Chapter 12

Locked in her room, Ursula passed the hours staring out the window at the churning waves, trying to picture her mother. But when she thought of Mount Acidale, a man’s eyes flickered in her mind—a pale gray, his skin golden—the colors of honeyed light piercing storm clouds.

A shudder crawled over her skin. Bael? Had she seen him in Mount Acidale?

It seemed everyone knew more about her than she herself did. Even Bael—supposedly her betrothed—couldn’t bring himself to let her in on the secret. And where exactly was he now, as she sat here locked in this room above the sea?

When the setting sun began to stain the sky lurid shades of cherry and lilac, a knock sounded at the door, echoing off the stone walls.

A girl with curly brown hair, tawny skin, and large, mahogany eyes cautiously poked her head in. “Hello. My name is Niniane. I brought you dinner.” She carried a tray into the room, and dropped it on the small table by the bed. It held a large hunk of bread and a steaming bowl of stew.

Ursula’s stomach rumbled at the rich scent. “Thank you, Niniane,” she said. “Can you tell me where Bael is?”

“He’s being cared for in the infirmary. He was bleeding badly.”

“Can I see him?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Ursula bit off a hunk of her bread. “But tell them not to heal the wounds on his back, or he won’t be able to get his wings back. It’s very important to him.”

The girl stared at her, eyes wide.

Ursula cocked her head. “Is there a reason everyone here is so scared of me?”

Niniane stared at her with a mixture of fear and fascination. “Is it true that you’re a hound of the fire goddess?”

“Yes, I’m a hound of Emerazel’s, but they made me give up my fire when I arrived. I don’t have any magic. So unless you believe whatever the queen was scared of, you have nothing to worry about.”

Niniane visibly relaxed. “I’m only a novice. I don’t have any magic either. But Elaine is teaching me.”

“What are you learning?” asked Ursula, desperate for conversation at this point.

“Elaine has taught me the song for calling the rain and the verse of light. I’ve been working on the light spell for ages. Would you like to see it?”

“I’d be honored,” said Ursula.

Niniane closed her eyes and spoke slowly in Angelic, carefully enunciating each word. When she finished the spell a small orb appeared in the air. It hovered—a perfect little glowing sphere—for an instant, before bursting into a shower of sparks.

“Oh no!” Niniane’s hand flew to her mouth. “I must have forgotten a word.”

“I thought it was very good,” said Ursula. “I still don’t know that one myself.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I lost my memory when I was a girl. I don’t actually know very much about magic.”

“Then how did you become a hound?”

“I’m not sure of that either.”

“I bet Nimue could help you remember.”

“I don’t think so,” said Ursula. “She saw something in me she didn’t like. That’s why I’m stuck in here until morning.”

“Nimue is a good queen,” said Niniane. “There must be a good reason why she asked you to stay in here.”

Ursula nodded, but this conversation had revived a cold dread that washed over her skin. What had the queen’s magic revealed—what did Nimue know that made her so afraid? The queen, Bael, Emerazel, even Abrax had all sensed it. What was it about her that made them uncomfortable? Bael had practically attacked her when she’d asked him about Mount Acidale.

Ursula bit her lip. “Have you ever heard of Mount Acidale?”

The girl’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Why do you ask?”

This time I won’t make the mistake of mentioning that I was born there.“My friend Kester mentioned it a few times,” she lied. “Maybe it has something to do with his disappearance.”

Niniane’s jaw tightened, and her forehead creased.

“What is it?” asked Ursula. “How come whenever I say Mount Acidale?—”

“Shhhh.” Niniane put a finger to her lips. “We are forbidden to say the name.”

“Why?”

Niniane took a deep breath, the ruddy sunlight glinting in her eyes. “A long time ago there were two cities, Avalon and… the other one. Nimue says it was very beautiful. They existed in harmony for centuries. Then, King Vortigern was crowned.”

“In Avalon?”

“No, in the other place.” Niniane took a deep breath. “He never left the castle. He was obsessed with fire magic. He went insane. Then, the demons of darkness descended, and a terrible battle ensued. We’ve never heard from them since. No one knows the outcome of the battle.”

“No one knows what happened in Mount Acidale?”

Niniane shook her head.

“But the queen must have sent messages.”

“Most never return. They say dragons block the roads to… that city.”

“Like the dragons that attacked New York?”

Niniane shrugged. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“I don’t understand. Why is everyone here so scared of dragons? Why is it that no one can speak the name of the city?”

Reluctantly, Niniane turned back to her. “It’s because of the prophecy.”

“What prophecy?”

Niniane’s face paled. “I must go. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

She hurried out the door, shutting it behind her. Ursula could hear Niniane apologizing again from outside the door—but she also heard the clink of metal as she locked Ursula in.

Ursula lay in bed,staring at the shimmering canopy of stars through her narrow window. As the sun had set, the mist had cleared and a pale moon had risen in the sky. A deathly quiet enshrouded the castle, and she pulled a blanket over her shoulders, shivering as her breath fogged the air.

She sat up in bed, glancing at the empty bowl of stew and the few crumbs of bread. Niniane had returned a few hours later to take her to the lavatory. She shuddered at the thought—calling it a lavatory was generous. A more accurate description would be ‘hole in the floor.’

A fluttering noise turned her head, and Ursula stared as a large, tawny-feathered owl landed on the sill. The bird’s golden eyes shone brightly in the darkness. And what do we have here?

Ursula frowned. “Have you come to keep me company?”

The owl ruffled his feathers. Then, in a thin, slightly nasal voice, he spoke. “No, I have not.”

Ursula’s mouth fell open. “Are you a shifter, perchance?”

He ruffled his feathers again. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself first. I’m Taliesin.”

“You can talk?”

“Obviously.”

“I’ve just never seen a talking bird before.”

Taliesin blinked. “Are you coming? I really must return.”

Ursula rose, rubbing her eyes, and the night breeze kissed her skin. “Coming where?”

“Oh, right. I forgot to give you the invitation.”

The owl puffed his feathers, then lifted one of his taloned feet, offering her a tiny, rolled piece of parchment. With a surprisingly dexterous flick of his claw, he tossed the letter toward Ursula.

Ursula unfurled the parchment and read it by the silvery light of the moon.

Dear Ursula,

I would very much like to make your acquaintance. I have been following your exploits with keen interest, and I must say that it is not often that Avalon is visited by someone as distinguished as yourself.

I very much hope that you will take the time to stop by for tea. Taliesin will fill you in on the particulars.

Yours,

Merlin

Of course. Merlin was a real person, and he wanted her to come over for tea. At least he wasn’t afraid of her. “Merlin sent you?”

“I run the occasional errand for him.”

“And Merlin is a mage, I take it?”

The owl moved in such a way as to appear to be shrugging. “Merlin, High Druidic Mage and Ancient Bard of the Wilds. Are you coming or what?”

“I’d love to chat with the High Druidic Mage, but I’m imprisoned here, and without my magic, I can’t travel anywhere.”

“Oh, I can fix that.”

Before Ursula could ask what ‘fixing that’ entailed, the owl had launched into an Angelic spell. Warm magic tingled over Ursula’s skin, then a flash of sharp pain pierced her muscles as her shoulders hunched together involuntarily. As her bones snapped and popped, feathers sprouted from her skin, and she rapidly shrank. From the cold flagstones, she stared up at Taliesin.

“Okay, enough messing about,” said the owl. “Merlin was quite keen on meeting you.”

Ursula studied her new body—the beautiful copper plumage, her feet curled into talons. She twisted her head around, eying the sheen of silvery light on her feathers. She couldn’t quite tell, but she thought she might be an owl. At least it was a way out of here for now.

“What sort of bird am I?” she tried to say, but instead of words coming from her tongue, she emitted a sound somewhere between a screech and a squawk.

“Well, that settles it.” Taliesin turned, and spread his wings. “Follow me.”

And with that, Taliesin soared into the glittering night sky.