Page 46 of The Sword & the Stone

For a moment, there was only silence. Everything seems to stop. The bridge stopped shaking, the walls stopped crumbling, and the infernal glow returned to the stone guardian’s eyes.

Then, with a groan that sounded like the earth itself was sighing, the statue shifted, revealing the final stretch of the bridge.

Chapter Fifteen

ARTHUR

As we reachedthe end of the stone bridge, I felt a strange tingling sensation wash over me. The air seemed to shimmer and pulse with an otherworldly energy that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I glanced at my companions, seeing the same mix of wonder and unease reflected in their eyes.

"Look," Lancelot breathed, pointing to a shimmering orb of light that had materialized before us. It bobbed and weaved in the air, leaving a faint trail of stardust in its wake.

As I approached, the orb pulsed brighter, and a melodic voice echoed in my mind. "Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future Queen," it whispered.

“In the realm where legends weave, A queen awaits, her fate to cleave. In shadows deep, where whispers call, To Avalon, the fabled hall.Through the Wandering Wood, you must tread, Where paths entwine and secrets spread. The fae will guide with a shimmering light, But only the brave will win the fight. Seek the place where time stands still, A chalice awaits to test your will. Embrace the quest, let courage swell, For the Holy Grail's tale is yours to tell.”

The riddle's meaning crystallized in my mind with startling clarity, as if the words had been etched there all along, waiting for this moment to reveal themselves. Avalon would be the stage for our final trial.

I turned to tell the knights, but the words died on my lips as I saw Tristan's eyes roll back, then glowing white, his body going rigid. Tristan's voice, usually so gentle and measured, took on an otherworldly timbre as he spoke.

"The chill of the air, that carries despair, It wraps around your throat, a noose of thin air. Discover the rune of wind, in its haunting snare. When gathered in silence, beneath the black sky, Murmur the incantation, let your souls fly. But beware, noble knights, for the darkness will test, Only the purest of souls can withstand this quest. For Avalon beckons, but not without cost, Step forth into shadows, for all else is lost. The portal shallopen, with a wail and a moan, Face the final trial, where the lost are alone.”

Tristan’s body gave a jolt, then his eyes faded back to their usually icy silver. He took in a long breath and staggered back a step. Gawain caught him by the shoulder and steadied him.

“I didn’t catch a lick of that,” he muttered with a nervous laugh.

Tristan righted himself, giving Gawain a nod of thanks. “It means we’re going to Avalon for the final trial, but it has to be Arthur who opens the portal.”

My chest tightened. He was right. The riddle spoke of a rune that would carry us to Avalon. But I didn’t know how to create runes. I said as much, and the knights turned almost as one to Merlin.

He met my eyes, his expression still as closed off as it had been the night before. “I’ll teach you,” he said. “We don’t have much time, so you have to pay attention.”

Lancelot stepped between us, his hand resting on Merlin’s shoulder. “Let’s get away from the bridge first. We need to find a place to camp for the night.”

I turned, looking longingly at the stone bridge, but I couldn’t see past the fog to where our horses waited. There was no going back for them, so we’d be traveling the rest of the way on foot.

As we walked, Merlin fell into step beside me, his expression still guarded. "To create a rune, you need to focus your will and channel your magic through a physical medium. In this case, we'll use Excalibur."

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my heart skipped a beat at his proximity after being so viscerally angry with him. "How do I do that?" I pulled the sword free and held it tightly. The bladeglowed ever so faintly golden. “I can feel the magic running through it, but I still don’t know how I’m supposed to wield it.”

With a furrowed brow, I tried to focus on the magic thrumming through Excalibur as we walked. The blade pulsed like a heartbeat, sending tingles up my arm. I imagined the magic was a glowing thread, and I tried to grasp it mentally, to pull it from the sword and into myself. But it was like trying to catch mist with my bare hands. The harder I focused, the more it seemed to slip away.

"You're thinking too much," Merlin chided gently, his voice startling me from my concentration. "Magic isn't something you force. It's a part of you, like breathing. You have to let it flow naturally."

I shot him a wry look. "Easy for you to say. You've been doing this your whole life."

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "And you will too, in time. For now, just relax. Clear your mind and let your instincts guide you."

I took a moment to breathe, trying to let the tension drain from my shoulders as we walked. The air was cool and damp, filled with the earthy scent of moss and decaying leaves. Shafts of pale sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the forest floor in a patchwork of light and shadow.

Ahead of us, Gawain and Galahad were deep in conversation, their voices low and conspiratorial. Suddenly, Galahad let out a bark of laughter, quickly stifling it as Gawain punched him in the shoulder. Gawain grinned, his gray eyes sparkling with mischief. I strained my ears, trying to catch what they were saying, but their voices were too low.

Merlin muttered, rolling his eyes. "Those two are ridiculous."

Glancing up again, right as Galahad peered over his shoulder, I laughed. He sent me a cheeky wink that had a warm flush running through my body.

I tried to follow Merlin's advice, letting my mind drift and my body relax. I focused on the sensations around me. On the crunch of leaves beneath my boots, the whisper of the wind through the branches, the warmth of Excalibur's hilt in my palm. Gradually, I became aware of a subtle thrumming sensation, like a second heartbeat pulsing in time with my own. It was the magic, I realized, flowing through me like a river of molten gold.

I released a soft gasp, and Merlin glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. "You feel it, don't you?"

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