Page 28 of Queen Takes Camelot: Gwen
Symbols of the Great Mother. Three spirals.
Triune. Triskeles. Triple Goddess.
The same ancient symbols replicated through dozens of civilizations. We were all united. All descended from Her. Mother Earth, Gaia, Danu, Dea Matrona. So many other names across all the cultures of the world.
Aima or Tuatha dé Danann. Vampire or fairy queen. We were descended from Her daughters.
At last, it was time for this vampire queen to pierce the veil and retrieve my wizard.
I didn’t open my eyes as I stepped into the dark hole within the tree’s trunk. I trusted it would take me where I needed to go. Lance held my right hand, Mordred my left. Bors walked at my back, gripping each of my other Blood’s shoulders. Soon I would have Merlin before me. I would be surrounded by my Blood.
Four corners. Four points. I needed that fourth point before I encountered Arthur again. I had to be complete.
Power hummed all around me, amplifying with each step. I wasn’t deliberately calling my power, but I felt the dance and spark inside me. I didn’t try to suppress it. For all I knew, I’d need every drop available at my fingertips to survive.
Vibrations rumbled my bones, making my fangs throb with my heartbeat. No blood, not yet, but it would only take a second and I’d tear my lips open and release the full weight of my power.
I felt an opening ahead, a sense of widening that made me open my eyes.
Covered in ancient symbols, a flat stone lay before us. A dark doorway lay beyond in a stone wall that rose to a gently domed roof. The waning moon hung low in the sky in a sprinkling of brilliant stars. Something red blazed across the sky, a brilliant flaming meteor gone in seconds. But it seemed momentous. The air weighed heavily, and the vibrations deepened, a throb that hurt my ears even though there wasn’t any sound. Magic pulsed in the heavy air, lifting the delicate hairs on my nape.
I paused and looked back over my shoulder. We hadn’t exited a tree, or anything, really. But a pair of standing stones marked the front entrance on either side of us.
“Imagine this place thousands of years ago,” Mordred whispered reverently. “How much magic would have held here when all the standing stones lined the boundary. It would have eclipsed the power at Stonehenge.”
Still holding my Bloods’ hands, I stepped closer to the mound’s entrance. A flat lintel stone covered the low doorway. The waiting passageway was too narrow for us all to walk side by side.
Bors brushed past us, taking the lead down the dark hallway. My light still shone, illuminating the carved stones. Above, an immense weight of earth and stone pressed downward. Entombing us. The walls closed in, the channel narrowing. The smell of ancient earth and old, old blood tantalized my tongue. Not human blood. Not animal.
This smelled like… Her, the Mother of all things. The pulsing magic around us was Her heartbeat. This tunnel, Her birth canal, from which all life had flowed. That was how old and powerful this site felt.
My light gleamed brighter as we went deeper. I shone like the full moon on pure white sands or pristine snow. This place called to the White Enchantress, welcoming me home with open arms.
:Was Guinevere ever here?:I asked my Blood.:This place feels familiar.:
:No tale places her here that I’m aware of,:Mordred replied.:But it’s possible. It’s certainly not far from Glastonbury Tor and Stonehenge. If she was as powerful as we think, then it’d be likely that she would have visited and even used all of these ancient sites.:
I halted before a low stone altar. Images flickered through my mind, whether imagination or fragile memories from past lives, I wasn’t sure. Torches flickered on either end of the altar. A woven white cloth covered the stone. Flowers and freshly baked bread. Flasks of wine or mead. Offerings to the Goddess.
I was suddenly glad I’d worn white. The simple cotton gown looked more like a vintage nightgown than anything a modern woman would wear, but it’d felt right. Even if it would show dirt or blood.
That was the point, after all.
I punctured my bottom lip deeply enough to allow blood to dribble freely down my chin, splattering my bodice. “Great Mother, we honor You. I seek my Blood, Merlin, whom I believe is held in the Otherworld beyond the veil. Please grant us passage to the Land Beneath the Waves so that I might hold my beloved once more.”
I suddenly smelled the salty sea, even though we were surely too far from the coast to smell the ocean. I turned to my right, letting the salty air guide me. Lance went ahead of me, leading the way. Bors hesitated, and I felt a surge of terror in the bond. He’d drowned before. He didn’t care to drown again.
“Stay here and wait for us.”
He shook his head, his mouth hardening to a grim slant. “Never, my queen. I said I’d drown a million times to be with you, and I meant it.”
I held my hand out to him and he seized my fingers in a death grip. Lance took my other hand, and I paused a moment, waiting for Mordred to take Bors’ hand, or at least touch him so we were all connected. My necklace’s glow rippled in the air ahead of us. Tiny sparkles and diamonds reflected the light back to us in a complicated design. Almost as though a spider had woven her web across the tunnel, though it seemed to be more of a transparent curtain. The threads wove toward the center in a circular spiral that caught my light in glistening dewdrops, brightening as we neared.
“The veil,” Mordred whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t know we’d actually be able to see it.”
Lance ran his hand over the surface, and it waved and rippled like an airy tapestry made of nothing but gossamer web. “At least we won’t get wet. Ready, my queen?”
I closed my eyes and focused on my will. From Guinevere’s memories, I pictured Merlin in my mind. Shoulder-length hair, shining silver with a delicate lavender tint he’d always sworn to be natural. Large midnight blue eyes, slightly tilted and deep set, giving him an elven look, emphasized by his high, chiseled cheekbones. He’d once sworn to never bow to anyone. King, queen, dragon, demon—it didn’t matter. He had his own power. He didn’t need anything or anyone.
