Chapter 15

Fifteen

Sleep was not possible.

Outside the door could be heard an occasional shuffling of feet—guards, probably, but little good ever came from wandering the halls by night. Only two nights ago, a woman had been murdered, her body left to be discovered by the palace guards. And yet, as dangerous as Westminster's halls might be, by first light, with Mordecai still at large, both Seren and Arwyn were contemplating escape.

It was impossible to say what could be keeping Morwen.

Day by day, the king was growing over suspicious, believing everyone was out to subvert him, particularly now that the Archbishop of Canterbury had steadfastly refused to confirm his heir, leaving his succession in question and reinforcing the illegitimacy of his reign. Rumors abounded that he had sent agents into his court to ferret out spies. Some were whispering lies to fill their purses. But, whatever the case—whatever had detained Morwen, there could be no doubt that when she returned, she would peel the skin from their bodies to attain what information she required. Both girls had recognized the look in her eyes as she'd walked out the door. It promised the worst of her hud du.

Neither Seren nor Arwyn were experienced dewines, and until that night at Darkwood, neither had truly understood what depravity could be wrought by magik of any sort, nor why good folks should fear them. But that night, they'd learned. And it soon became apparent that their mother was not to be bargained with. She reveled in their tears.

Resolved now—for what better chance would they have?— the girls moved swiftly through the chamber, gathering all the supplies they could carry. Every loose piece of silver and gold Morwen possessed—everything that was not locked away—they shoved into sacks. Then, they turned to more perishable items—anything they could find to sustain them.

With a bit of good fortune, they might find themselves reunited with Elspeth or Rhiannon.

Finally, when they were ready to walk out the door, Seren's gaze fell upon the scrying stone that had once belonged to their grandmamau.

It was too large to take in its current form. It would be impossible to travel with… and yet.

Rosalynde had the Book of Secrets, and here sat Merlin's Crystal. To leave it with Morwen was folly, because their mother would only use it to vanquish them—and more importantly, she would use it to find Rosalynde.

Seren herself had never witnessed its use, but they knew it was precious and powerful, and in its current state, their mother could easily use it to ferret them out.

Gently, Seren lifted up the scrying stone. The instant she touched it, the interior began to shift, the stone swirling and billowing through the marbled depths like a storm made of crystal. Helpless to do aught but watch, their eyes became affixed to the images forming…

Passed down through the ages, the scrying stone was powerful, indeed. As the story went, even as the Witch Goddess Cerridwen had been sucked into the depths of her watery prison, her screams had formed bubbles that drifted to the surface. The instant her breath returned to the aether, it solidified into crystals, the largest being the crystal Seren held in her hands—Merlin's Jewel. In the stone's opaque, vaguely shimmering depths, she saw lithe figures arising from mist… a man … kneeling… and… Rosalynde, seated on a stump in her nun's habit. Her glamour was gone, and she was watching some man kindle his fire.

Arwyn gasped, sounding dismayed. "She has revealed herself," she said.

Seren tilted her head to continue watching. "Not necessarily… the crystal would naturally reveal her to us; it would never be fooled by her glamour."

"What should we do?"

The sun was rising, sending tendrils of soft pink in through their windows. Soon the palace would wake, with a great swell of breath, like a stone beast arising from slumber.

And soon… Morwen was bound to return.

Some part of Seren longed to ask the crystal where she might be, but both she and her sister were still beguiled by the images the crystal had revealed to them—Rosalynde… in the company of… was he her champion?

And then Seren looked closer… recognizing the man. "Sweet, merciful Goddess!"

"What is it, Seren?"

Seren's hand flew to her lips in wonder. "That, my dearest Arwyn, is Giles de Vere."

Arwyn's entire face screwed with confusion. "Your betrothed?"

"So it seems."

The sisters lifted their gazes to peer into one another's eyes, blinking in surprise. Why would Seren's betrothed be Rosalynde's champion? Could it be that he was acting in her mother's behalf? What were they doing together?

"Will she be alright?"

Seren's brows drew together and she shook her head, but she said, "He did not strike me as an evil man, but who can say, Arwyn. The Goddess works in mysterious ways."

"What should we do?"

"I don't know."

"Should we warn Rose?"

Seren inhaled a fortifying breath, though she still could not wrest her gaze away from the crystal. "Nay," she said. "We daren't risk it… not now. Instead, we must pray he was sent to aid her."

The sounds of people stirring resounded from the hall, doors opening, whispers filtering in under the crack beneath their door. "If we mean to, we must go now," urged Arwyn, peering nervously at the door.

At last, Seren lifted her gaze from the crystal. "What about the scrying stone?"

"We cannot leave it."

But it was too big to carry afoot. Morwen had a special leather pouch that hung over her pommel, but they would have no horse to carry it, and even now, it felt inordinately heavy in Seren's hands, because within its hallowed depths, it bore all the possibilities of the aether—all things to come, all things past, and all things that lingered in twilight.

For a long, long moment, the sisters stared at one another, their gazes shifting back and forth, one to another, and each to Merlin's Jewel, where Rosalynde and her dubious champion remained visible.

Giles de Vere had abandoned the woodpile, and moved to sit beside their sister, and Arwyn said softly, "Do it, Seren. The Goddess will forgive you."

Ancient and irreplaceable, there was no other scrying stone of its worth in the entire World. There were certainly others with less power, but this was the only crystal born of the breath of the dragon. Like the Book of Secrets, it was priceless. "Do it," Arwyn said, urging her.

Seren, gave her sister a nod of accord, and with one last glance at the door—lest Morwen enter and surprise them—and an inhale of breath for courage, she lifted her arms high and brought them crashing down, releasing the ancient stone to the floor. It shattered at their feet, exploding into a thousand shards, its vague sea-green glow at once diminished, like a flame extinguished.

At once, both girls bent to grab a small piece—if only for posterity—and then, shoving the pieces of Merlin's Jewel into their rucksacks, they left what remained on the floor, rushing to the door.