Invincible by C.A. Gray

Author:C.A. Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, legends, young adult, science fiction, fairy tale, ya, myths, arthurian
Publisher: C.A. Gray

Chapter 19: circa 10,500 BC

Peter and Isdemus were transported to a primitive forest. The water flowed quietly over rocks along the creek bed, beneath the canopy of a thousand enormous trees. Crickets chirped softly and the wind rustled the leaves. Ahead of them stood three figures in a little triangle. Two were obviously penumbra, transparent, and they stood with their backs to Isdemus and Peter: a siren and a hag. The other was a man, whom Peter could see plainly. He looked barely twenty-five, with deep-set eyes, a sunken chest and a surly expression. Peter could tell they were all speaking the Ancient Tongue, and yet in this place, he understood them anyway.

“Go on now, what are you waiting for?” hissed the hag to the human. “Make the vow!” It leaned towards him, hands outstretched like he was ready to pounce.

But the man did not look threatened in the least. His beetle-black eyes glinted back hungrily. “Very well,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I, Sargon, King of Mesopotamia, grant you, the penumbra, the power of the Ancient Tongue on behalf of all my subjects—in exchange for absolute power and eternal life!”

Peter shuddered as if he had a chill, and looked at Isdemus, who was too riveted upon the scene to pay him any notice.

Then Sargon’s face clouded, as if something was wrong. He clutched his throat. Then he began to squawk.

The siren started to laugh musically. “Excellent!” she cried. “Most splendid! Quick, Vortigem,” she turned to the hag, “Command something! Command the stream to dry up; try that!”

Happily, the sallow hag focused upon the stream and cried in a resounding voice, “Sruth tirim suas!”

But nothing happened.

He blinked, and looked at the siren, perplexed. Then he tried again.

“Sruth tirim suas!”

But he got the same result.

“You try!” he demanded of the siren as he turned a seething expression on Sargon. Sargon continued to squawk, glaring back at Vortigem dangerously.

The siren turned her gaze upon a rock instead, and commanded it, “Eitilt!” But nothing happened.

Sargon roared in frustration, and Vortigem stomped the ground. “How is it that it isn’t working for either of us?” he demanded of the siren. But she did not look back at him. She began to pace, thinking. It was then that Peter got a good look at her: she was tiny, with black hair, violet eyes, and skin like porcelain. Something about her manner demonstrated that she was clearly the leader.

“Sir,” Peter whispered to Isdemus, “who is she?”

Isdemus wrenched his eyes away long enough to reply. “That,” he said, not bothering to speak in a whisper, “is the future queen of Camelot.”

“Guinevere?” Peter gasped. But Isdemus put a finger to his lips to indicate that they should keep listening.

“Because,” Guinevere said at last in reply to the hag’s question, “we have only completed half of the bargain. Come, Vortigem!”

She tore off through the forest at a breakneck pace, Vortigem following after, and Sargon had no choice but to run along behind them, wheezing asthmatically through his concave ribcage.

“Where are you going, Your Viciousness?” called Vortigem after Guinevere, irritably.

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