Daughter of Darkness & Light by Shannon Drake

Author:Shannon Drake [Drake, Shannon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-26T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Kyleigh had no concept of time; days and nights had fallen into one another. When she awoke, she remembered slowly where she was.

And then she started, almost screaming aloud.

Somehow, not doing so.

There was a man in her room. Or not a man. The image of a man in mist, one that was both darkness and light, somehow shimmering, somehow like a dark cloud.

The whole of the room seemed to be bathed in a strange, quiet light, making it neither night nor day.

He was tall, clad in a long dark cape, carrying a long staff with a dragon’s head.

He was old, with wild white hair, and a shaven face that was handsomely contoured but with deep grooves and wrinkles showing the passage of his time on earth.

Merlin?

She whispered the name softly.

“Magic,” he warned her sternly, “must not be abused!”

He spoke with the voice, of course, that had come to her before. The voice that sometimes seemed to radiate from the sword.

She sat straight in the bed, staring as time passed and she fought with herself to gain speech.

She shook her head. “I did not abuse it in any way! This man Brogan intends to kill everyone. I have only used it to stop his onslaught.”

“Ah, and to sneak out and watch the comings and goings of a friend! That is great strength, the cloak of invisibility. It can weaken a sorceress when the magic she holds is desperately needed.”

“I was afraid for him!” she whispered.

The figure shook his head. “The strength of good magic cannot be found in lies.”

“I did not lie to anyone!”

“Not speaking is often a lie.”

The figure, hands clasped behind his back, paced the small room thoughtfully. “Trust me. I leaned magic must be most carefully used. Especially when magic resides among others as well. At all times, you must take care. The craft should be practiced and tested!”

“I did not have much time to practice or test anything!” Kyleigh said.

He swung on her. “Watch your tongue before your elders. And take care. Be friends. But you must not come too close to the Celt, Padraic.”

She shook her head with a sinking feeling.

“He cannot be a traitor!”

“Did I say that he was a traitor?” the figure snapped.

“Then—”

“Take care.”

“Why?”

“Because he is your brother!”

“My brother? Oh, no, he cannot be! There was never rumor of Mordred having a second child.”

“Mordred? What is this talk of Mordred?”

Kyleigh shook her head, confused. “Alistair believes I am the child of Mordred, the infant he was rumored to have fathered before he died. Since I was brought to him so mysteriously in the night, I believe that—”

“Alistair! The best of men. And so mistaken!”

“Then—I must admit. I was in the lake. I held a fish, and then I held a sword. I believed perhaps, as horrible as Mordred had been, something of the honor within Arthur had been granted to me—”

“The Lady of the Lake did not give you the sword. You are not wielding Excalibur.”

“I thought at least if I was Mordred’s

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