Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

ARTHUR

The world swirled around me, a dizzying array of unfamiliar sights and sounds assaulting my senses. Attempting to shift, I felt the chill of metal digging into my wrists. Panic surged through me as I realized I was tethered to something living.

"What in the fates…?" I muttered, blinking rapidly to clear my vision.

Slowly, the hazy forms surrounding me took shape, revealing a forest unlike any I had ever seen. Trees with bark the color of rich chocolate loomed overhead, their leaves shimmering like distant stars, wet with rain. The air carried a thick sweetness that made my head spin.

I was sitting upright, strapped onto the back of a creature that defied description, its hide gleaming like burnished bronze, crowned with spiraling horns on its forehead. It was an Elhorn. Stories of these beasts were just that…stories. A fae horse breed created specifically for battle.

We were stopped, and the horse wasn’t even tied to a tree to keep it from galloping away.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice, filled with both concern and amusement, sounded from beside me. "Any inkling of where we are or how we landed in this rather...compromising situation?"

Turning my head gingerly, a fresh wave of pain shot through me as I did so. I caught sight of Merlin, similarly bound to another Elhorn. Despite our predicament, a smirk played at the corners of his lips, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

I winced as I tested my bonds, then gave up and shrugged. “Beats walking, don't you think?"

Merlin chuckled. "Always the innovator. You know, it’s always you who gets us into the strangest situations.”

It was impossible not to snort, even as my mind raced to make sense of our situation. The last thing I remembered was stepping through the portal in Avalon. Tristan and Merlin were right there behind me with Galahad, Gawain, Percival and Lancelot not too far behind. Then...nothing. How had we ended up here wherever “here” was?

"We’re obviously in Avalon," I said, vaguely gesturing with my chained hands to the towering magical trees. “But where in Avalon?”

Squishy moss carpeted the forest floor, and in the distance, I heard the tinkling of what sounded like crystal chimes. It was nothing short of magnificent.

Merlin's nose scrunched as he looked around. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say we've found ourselves somehow in Seelie forest."

“How do you figure?” I asked, a brow arched. How would Merlin know anything about the courts of Avalon?

His eyes met mine, and his grin was back. “Because if we were in the Un seelie forest, we wouldn’t be breathing.”

I opened my mouth to retort when a deep, resonant blast shattered the ethereal tranquility of the forest. The horn's call seemed to reverberate through the very earth, sending tremors up my spine and setting the leaves fluttering to the ground.

The Elhorns stamped their hooves, snorting and tossing their magnificent heads in response to the summons. I strained against my bonds, my heart hammering against my ribs as I scanned the tree line for the source of the sound.

Merlin struggled too, and I watched in horror as sparks of his magic flared up before fizzling to nothing, telling me that whatever these chains were, they were blocking his magic. Looking down in a sudden panic, I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Excalibur was still fastened to my hip.

Figures emerged from the shimmering foliage like apparitions taking form. They moved with an otherworldly grace, their lithe forms adorned in armor that seemed to be crafted from the very essence of the forest—leaves, bark, and all kinds of plating. Each rode an Elhorn of their own, the creatures' coats ranging from the deepest ebony to the palest silver, their spiraling horns and claws catching the dappled light.

As they drew closer, I realized immediately that these were no ordinary Sidhe fae. Their beauty was sharp and terrible, their angular features both captivating and unsettling. Eyes the color of mist shone out through the shadows, and mist swirled around their mount’s hooves.

But it was the sight of the figures riding amongst them that made my breath catch in my throat. Riding towards us with the ethereal procession were five familiar faces—Tristan, Galahad, Gawain, Percival, and Lancelot. Unlike Merlin and me, they weren’t bound, but rode freely.

Relief flooded through me as Lancelot urged his mount forward, his golden hair catching the light like a halo as he fixed the fae leader that rode in with them with a piercing stare. The male was so large that he dwarfed his Elhorn, and he wore a helm of black antlers.

"Release her," Lance commanded, his voice ringing with authority I had no idea he had in this place. "She is Arthur Pendragon, Queen of Camelot, and you will show her the respect she is due."

The fae man regarded Lancelot with an inscrutable expression. For a moment, I thought he would refuse, but he lifted a gloved hand and made a subtle gesture. The chains binding me to the Elhorn fell away, dissolving into mist before they touched the ground.

I slid from the creature's back, my legs unsteady, as I found my footing on the mossy earth. Lancelot dismounted in one fluid motion, catching me by the elbow as I swayed. His touch was warm and familiar, and more welcoming than Lancelot ever felt before.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a rush, his eyes searching my face.

I nodded, my voice trapped somewhere in my throat. I glanced over to see Merlin being similarly freed, Percival and Galahad flanking him protectively.

"Who are they?” I whispered, so low that only Lancelot could hear.

He straightened, his eyes going up and over my shoulder, his brows dipping sternly. “They’re called The Wild Hunt. Queen Tatiana sent them when she felt the portal open. We’re too close to the Seelie palace for her to ignore it.”

I nearly choked as I processed what he’d just said. The Wild Hunt… Terror surged through me, and every hair on my body stood up. I took a step towards Lancelot and, almost instinctively, his large arm wrapped around my waist.

I looked around at the Hunt gathered around us. They were both terrifying and breathtakingly beautiful. One fae had hair that moved as if caught in an invisible breeze, each strand a different hue of the rainbow, but his limbs were made of what could only be described as tree branches. Another had intricate patterns etched into their stone-like skin. A female had wings like a dragonfly, iridescent and delicate, fluttering gently behind her.

Their armor was equally mesmerizing, seeming to be crafted from the elements themselves. One wore a breastplate that appeared to be made of intricately woven leaves, while another had gauntlets that shimmered like ice. A helm adorned with twisting vines and delicate flowers rested on the head of a particularly fierce-looking male with eyes so black they were depthless.

Idly, I wondered how a breastplate made of leaves could be beneficial in a fight.

Even their weapons were works of art, each one unique. I saw swords with blades that seemed to be forged from starlight, bows that looked as if they had been carved from the bones of ancient beasts, and spears tipped with crystals that pulsed with energy.

The commander stepped forward, his piercing gaze sweeping over us. "We must move out," he declared, his voice deep and resonant, carrying an undercurrent of power that seemed to make the very air tremble. "Queen Tatiana is expecting you, and we’ve wasted time here long enough."

He turned to Lancelot, Galahad, and Gawain, tilting his head in a gesture of respect. "It’s only due to my regard for you as former knights of the Seelie Court that your companions remain unbound. Do not make me regret this decision."

Lancelot bowed his head in acknowledgment, his grip on my waist tightening almost imperceptibly. "You have my gratitude, Commander."

The commander's gaze lingered on us for a moment longer before he turned, mounting his Elhorn in one fluid motion. The rest of the Hunt followed suit, their ethereal mounts pawing at the ground, eager to be off.

The Wild Hunt moved around us like a silent, dangerous royal escort, their massive mounts leaving no hoofprints on the mossy ground. As we rounded a bend in the path, the trees parted like a curtain, revealing a sight that stole the breath from my lungs.

Before us was a sprawling palace in the trees. The walls were crafted from what looked like living wood, as if the trees themselves had grown around the fae, creating archways, corridors, grand rooms and balconies. Windows of stained glass cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the ground, painting the earth in hues of amethyst, sapphire, and emerald.

The path led directly to a grand arched doorway, flanked by two towering statues. They were Elhorns, rearing up on their hind legs, their spiraling horns stretching towards the heavens.

Fae were everywhere. The hustle and bustle of a city full of vibrant life was familiar, reminding me of Camelot, only…cleaner and more alien.

Eyes followed our procession as we were led through the heart of the inner city, past shops, markets, and homes. I suddenly felt incredibly aware that I was dressed in dirty, smelly riding clothes that had seen far better days.

The Wild Hunt dismounted once we reached a massive archway crafted from stone. Lancelot helped me down from my Elhorn, his hand lingering on my waist for a moment longer than necessary. I felt the warmth of his touch even through the layers of my clothing, and it had me looking up into his eyes in surprise.

“Remember, stay close to me,” he whispered, his lips close to mine.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one in charge here? I’m a queen, remember?”

Lancelot's lips quirked into a smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?"

I couldn't stop my answering grin, even as nerves fluttered in my stomach. "Unfortunately, it’s permanent."

He laughed, but before he could respond, the commander of the Wild Hunt stepped forward, his antlered helm glinting in the soft light. "Queen Tatiana is ready for you," he said, leaving no room for discussion. "Follow me."

He led us through the archway and into a vast hall, its ceiling so high it seemed to disappear into the shadows. The tree bark walls were lined with tapestries in every color imaginable.

As we walked, our footsteps echoed on the polished mosaic floor, inlaid with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change with each step. Fae of all kinds moved through the halls, their beauty and grace leaving me awestruck. Some had wings like butterflies, others had horns, and still others had skin that shimmered like precious gems.

At the end of the hall was a massive set of double doors, crafted from wood so dark it was almost black. The doors creaked open, revealing not the grand throne room I expected, but a stunning library that seemed to go on forever.

Towering shelves lined the walls, reaching up to a ceiling wrapped in a warm, golden glow. Scrolls and books filled the shelves by the hundreds. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and ink, mixed with a sweet aroma that reminded me of honey and spices, with hints of wildflowers and autumn leaves. It enveloped me, leaving me a little dizzy.

In the center stood a massive tree, its trunk so wide that a dozen people could hold hands around it. Its deep brown bark shimmered with gold veins, and its branches spread out like welcoming arms, draped in leaves of vibrant greens, rich reds, and burnished golds.

I spotted a figure beneath its sprawling branches. She wore a gown woven from nature itself—deep green leaves, vibrant petals, and shimmering threads that caught the light like dew on a spider’s web. Her hair flowed like spun gold, crowned with delicate blooms. Behind her was a pair of ivory wings that reminded me of a butterfly.

Surrounding her were hooded figures in rich purple robes, each wielding slender staffs topped with glowing crystals.

As we approached, she turned, and I was met by eyes the color of the summer sky—piercing blue. Her features were regal; high cheekbones, a slender nose, and a gentle smile, her skin a warm clay hue that contrasted beautifully with her bright hair.

"Welcome, Knights of Camelot," she said. "Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad, Percival, Tristan—it's good to see you all again."

My knights stepped up around me, and as one single unit, they brought their closed fists up to their chest in a sign of respect. Not a bow, but an acknowledgement, I noticed.

Queen Tatiana's eyes widened as they locked onto mine, her breath hitching in surprise. She took a swift step forward. The cloaked figures parted without a sound to let her pass. It was almost as if the Seelie Queen embodied the essence of her own kingdom. As if she were the beating heart of it all.

She moved with an otherworldly grace, almost floating on air. I wondered how old she was. By appearance alone, she looked no older than maybe thirty years, but the fae didn’t age like humans. For all I knew, she was thousands of years old.

Her hand lifted and hovered just inches from my cheek. The warmth radiating from her skin and the scent of wildflowers and honey that clung to her was intoxicating. "I’ve waited for you. You have your mother's eyes."

I blinked several times, not sure I heard her correctly. "What did you say?”

Tatiana's smile was tinged with sadness. “I never thought I’d see her face again. But here you are, Arthur Pendragon…” She stepped closer. “May I?”

I had no idea what she was asking, but I was in no position to deny this queen anything, all I could do was nod.

Tatiana gently placed her hands on my cheeks. Her hands were soft and warm, but there was an unexplainable energy emanating from them. As she cradled my face, I found myself drawn to her, unable to resist the pull.

Then something extraordinary happened. Tatiana's eyes, which were already mesmerizing with their deep blue color, began to glow. It started as a faint shimmer, but soon turned into a bright silvery light that illuminated her face and the entire library.

As I stared into her luminous eyes, time seemed to slow down and everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, connected by some unknown force. Images flooded my mind. A hundred, a thousand, a million different faces and places.

I saw a woman with hair the color of mine, with amber eyes and a mischievous smile. She was laughing, her head thrown back as a man placed gentle kisses on her neck.

The vision shifted, the laughter fading into the shadows as a new scene took shape. I saw the same woman, her belly swollen, walking through the halls of a grand castle with red and gold banners.

As she turned a corner, she came face to face with a woman of striking beauty, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of obsidian. But her eyes, a piercing green, were filled with rage.

"You," the woman hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You dare to show your face here, you filthy little whore?"

The pregnant woman stepped back, her hands instinctively cradling her stomach. "Please, your highness, I meant no disrespect. I only wished to speak with the king..."

The dark-haired woman let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "The king? You think you have the right to speak with my husband, after what you've done? After you seduced him into your bed like the harlot you are?"

I realized with a start that this was Uther's queen, Mordred’s mother, Adriana.

My mother shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “It was a spell, Adri! I never would have?—”

“No more lies, Morrigan! I’m sick of looking at you.” The queen spat on the ground at Morrigan’s feet.

A spell? What did she mean it was a spell? I opened my mouth to ask just that, when suddenly, as if they both sensed my presence, Morrigan and Queen Adriana turned to face me, their eyes looking straight through the vision back at me.

I stumbled backwards, and Queen Tatiana’s hands left my face, taking the vision with them.