far. “Now perhaps you will be so kind as to tell us why you brought us here.”
“Tal, who is she?” whispered Jackson, but Morgan, whose years had always been very sharp, heard him.
“Taliesin, could your little playmates be so ignorant as to not recognize Morgan Le Fay, half-sister of Arthur Pendragon and rightful heiress to the throne of Camelot?” Her voice, though superficially sweet, was dark with contempt.
Well, I hadn’t been wrong. We were screwed. Royally screwed.
CHAPTER 9: DESPERATE TIMES
Just when you think things can’t get any worse, they often do—and that was certainly the case here. Morgan would be a tough opponent under any circumstances, but in a faerie realm, since she had some faerie blood, she would be next to unstoppable, except perhaps by a full-blooded faerie, and we were fresh out of those.
“Well, Morgan,” I said, trying to project a confidence I did not feel. “Why are we here?” My manner was so totally different from normal that Stan and some of the others looked at me strangely, but I doubted Morgan would know what to make of current me. Taliesin 1, on the hand, she could understand and potentially communicate with, so I did my very best to sound as he would have sounded.
“You tell me,” replied Morgan coolly, eying me appraisingly. “If I had known you were such a handsome boy now,” despite myself I blushed just a little at that, “I would certainly have invited you. But this time you seem to have come on your own.”
“On the contrary, we were brought here against our will, and very abruptly at that. Who besides you would be powerful enough to do that these days? There aren’t a great many sorceresses of the first rank around anymore.”
Morgan smiled a little at the compliment, but her face had never been more than a flesh mask. One could no more tell what she was feeling by looking at it then one could tell how a regular guy was feeling by looking at the mask he wore on Halloween. “I’m not one to disclaim such an act of power had I done it, but I swear it is as much a surprise to me as to you. That said, now that you are here…”
“What can we do for you?” I asked without a trace of the foreboding I felt.
“From them I want nothing…except perhaps to serve as hostages for your good behavior.” I suppressed a shudder. “From you, on the other hand, I want to know where Lancelot is.”
I thought Morgan’s commanding presence might have kept my friends quiet, but looking around, I could see that most of them were either preoccupied by Dan’s condition (Eva and Mary) or completely befuddled, trying frantically to process a situation completely alien to their experience (Jackson, Carlos, and Aabharana). The last three, perhaps without realizing it, had backed away from Morgan, an instinctive response to the magnitude of the threat she posed. They whispered just a little among themselves and seemed more afraid of drawing her attention than anything else. Only Stan, comparatively unflustered, remained close.
“My lady, surely Lancelot cannot still be alive?”
“You are,” she pointed out, the edge in her voice growing more obvious.
“Yes, but I am a rather rare exception. Lancelot could have been reincarnated, but if so, he is of no use to you, for he will remember nothing of his earlier lives.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “What was done to you could very well be done to him.” Could it be? Was my situation more than some cosmic fluke? Had someone deliberately awakened my earlier selves and changed my life forever?
“But,” she continued, either not noticing the impact her words had on me or choosing to ignore it, “given how things turned out last time, it might be just as well if he did not remember anything.” Quite an understatement, considering that Lancelot had rejected Morgan, precipitating Morgan’s vengeful pursuit of his destruction that eventually engulfed Arthur and all of Camelot as well. “I could
“Tal, who is she?” whispered Jackson, but Morgan, whose years had always been very sharp, heard him.
“Taliesin, could your little playmates be so ignorant as to not recognize Morgan Le Fay, half-sister of Arthur Pendragon and rightful heiress to the throne of Camelot?” Her voice, though superficially sweet, was dark with contempt.
Well, I hadn’t been wrong. We were screwed. Royally screwed.
CHAPTER 9: DESPERATE TIMES
Just when you think things can’t get any worse, they often do—and that was certainly the case here. Morgan would be a tough opponent under any circumstances, but in a faerie realm, since she had some faerie blood, she would be next to unstoppable, except perhaps by a full-blooded faerie, and we were fresh out of those.
“Well, Morgan,” I said, trying to project a confidence I did not feel. “Why are we here?” My manner was so totally different from normal that Stan and some of the others looked at me strangely, but I doubted Morgan would know what to make of current me. Taliesin 1, on the hand, she could understand and potentially communicate with, so I did my very best to sound as he would have sounded.
“You tell me,” replied Morgan coolly, eying me appraisingly. “If I had known you were such a handsome boy now,” despite myself I blushed just a little at that, “I would certainly have invited you. But this time you seem to have come on your own.”
“On the contrary, we were brought here against our will, and very abruptly at that. Who besides you would be powerful enough to do that these days? There aren’t a great many sorceresses of the first rank around anymore.”
Morgan smiled a little at the compliment, but her face had never been more than a flesh mask. One could no more tell what she was feeling by looking at it then one could tell how a regular guy was feeling by looking at the mask he wore on Halloween. “I’m not one to disclaim such an act of power had I done it, but I swear it is as much a surprise to me as to you. That said, now that you are here…”
“What can we do for you?” I asked without a trace of the foreboding I felt.
“From them I want nothing…except perhaps to serve as hostages for your good behavior.” I suppressed a shudder. “From you, on the other hand, I want to know where Lancelot is.”
I thought Morgan’s commanding presence might have kept my friends quiet, but looking around, I could see that most of them were either preoccupied by Dan’s condition (Eva and Mary) or completely befuddled, trying frantically to process a situation completely alien to their experience (Jackson, Carlos, and Aabharana). The last three, perhaps without realizing it, had backed away from Morgan, an instinctive response to the magnitude of the threat she posed. They whispered just a little among themselves and seemed more afraid of drawing her attention than anything else. Only Stan, comparatively unflustered, remained close.
“My lady, surely Lancelot cannot still be alive?”
“You are,” she pointed out, the edge in her voice growing more obvious.
“Yes, but I am a rather rare exception. Lancelot could have been reincarnated, but if so, he is of no use to you, for he will remember nothing of his earlier lives.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “What was done to you could very well be done to him.” Could it be? Was my situation more than some cosmic fluke? Had someone deliberately awakened my earlier selves and changed my life forever?
“But,” she continued, either not noticing the impact her words had on me or choosing to ignore it, “given how things turned out last time, it might be just as well if he did not remember anything.” Quite an understatement, considering that Lancelot had rejected Morgan, precipitating Morgan’s vengeful pursuit of his destruction that eventually engulfed Arthur and all of Camelot as well. “I could
Similar Books
