Air: Merlin's Chalice (The Children of Avalon Book 1) by Meredith Bond Page A

had been shocked to see the two young Vallen working together to subdue her storm. But Nimuë was not worried. She could still easily best them if needed. The trick was to keep them alive—she wanted their powers. She would need to drain them before she could kill them.
    “Right now they do not trust each other,” Nimuë continued, partially thinking aloud.
    “After your storm? Yes, I am certain you’re right. They will each think the other responsible for starting it.”
    “It is just as I had planned. I have planted the seeds of distrust into fertile ground.”
    Morgan laughed. “And you are hoping they will blossom?”
    “They will bloom and grow, I assure you.”
    “Well, they had better be quick–growing, because you do not have much time. They are sure to meet the third one soon.”
    Nimuë agreed and then thought about this. Was her sister aiding her? Making suggestions on how to accomplish her goal? No, that was not possible. There must be a trick somewhere.
    “Why are you helping me?” she asked Morgan.
    “I am not.” Morgan’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile as she faded away.
    Nimuë sat back in her chair, wondering what her sister was up to. She did not trust her. Not for one moment. The golden girl of Avalon, the one who could never do wrong. Oh, how Nimuë hated her sister. Hated her with an anger that seethed and undulated inside of her like a snake writhing in a cage. It would get out someday. In fact, Nimuë looked forward to it. But she had other work to do first.
    She had to capture these three—the Children of Avalon—or else how was she to become the most powerful Vallen? Then one wielding the power of three, the greatest earthly force will be. It was her destiny, and if it was not, she would make it so.
    She would get them and drain them of their magic—and she would start with the blond.

Chapter Fourteen
    I looked down into the pale, drawn face of Sir Dagonet. Had his cheeks been so sunken before? I couldn’t remember, but I didn’t think so. Maybe they just looked that way because of the two days’ growth of beard on them. I hoped that was the reason. I didn’t want to think of the alternative. I closed my eyes for a moment and said a quick prayer.
    Removing the warm, damp cloth from his forehead, I dipped it into the bowl of cold water on the bedside table. The cold bit into my hands as I wrung out the cloth, dipping it once more to make sure it was as cold as it could be, and then wrung it again with all of my strength.
    “You’re going to tear that piece of cloth right in half if you wring it so hard,” the old man croaked. His voice was dry and thick with the congestion in his head and chest.
    I gave him my best smile and tried to hide my frustration. “It’s all right.”
    He reached out and patted my cold, chapped hand with his burning one as I gently placed the cloth over his forehead. “You poor girl. You shouldn’t be here tending to a sick old man like this.”
    “It’s all right, sir, truly…”
    “No. You should be out searching for your parents.” He paused as a coughing fit overcame him. His frail body bucked with the violence of it, and the cloth slipped down his face to cover one of his eyes. Such fits terrified me. I’d seen men die from coughing like that.
    I plucked the cloth off of him and used it to wipe his face and the back of his neck while pushing my fears to the back of my mind. “Dylan is out doing just that, although I wish he wouldn’t. He’s supposed to be searching for a healer for you, and yet all he does is come back with news of this person or that who could be my parent.” Even I could hear the frustration in my voice. I clamped my mouth shut and wrung out the cloth in the cold water once again.
    Sir Dagonet sighed.
    I put the cold cloth on Sir Dagonet’s forehead once again. “He had no right, no right to keep that rain falling the way he did. Not only was it wrong to try to disrupt our journey, but it was also wrong to