The Cleaving by Juliet E. Mckenna

Author:Juliet E. Mckenna
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781915202277
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2023-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

BOOK THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Nimue’s magic carried her to Camelot, still transformed. Dusk was drawing on and that was a relief. No one would think twice to see a bat flit around these lofty towers and battlements. Moments later, her relief turned to concern. The castle looked very different, and not only because winter’s snows had melted.

How long had she been gone? Nimue smelled rising sap and fresh growth on the breeze. This could not be the spring after the winter when Sir Balyn had been cursed and died though. Even in this dim light, she saw stains of lichen on masonry that should still be pristine. Moss softened the cobbles of Camelot’s yard. The wood of the doors, gates and drawbridge was no longer the fresh gold of newly sawn timber, but weathered to silver grey.

She flapped her translucent little wings harder, flying higher with increasing unease. Rising above the great curtain wall, she saw a substantial village beyond the dry moat. The track that had once led to this remote place was a broad road. Great tracts of the forest had been cleared for crops and grazing.

Use your magic sparingly, and always with caution. You can never know what consequences could follow.

Nimue fought a surge of panic. How many years had passed? How could she explain her absence? How would she explain her return? What answers could she possibly offer when Arthur asked where Merlin had gone? Was Arthur even still king?

She swooped lower on silent, leathery wings. Her magic was very nearly exhausted. She had to find a safe place to land and resume her human form before the bat’s nature overwhelmed her. But which form should that be? Youthful Nimue or an aged facsimile? She had no idea.

Fighting a surge of panic, she realised she was close to the tower where Ygraine had lodged during that long-lost summer. Nimue saw a shutter was ajar, opening onto the spiral stair. Small and deft, she slipped through the gap and let her enchantment unravel. As her feet touched the stone steps, her body slumped, impossibly heavy. She could barely move her clumsy limbs. Stricken with dizziness, she clung to the wall to save herself from a fall, but her fingers were blunt and useless, not tipped with needle-sharp claws.

Somewhere below a door opened. A sharp voice echoed up the stairwell. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

“Morgana?” Nimue summoned up the last of her magic to take on the appearance she had worn when they had last seen each other. She felt more at home in this body now, but she still dared not move, unsure of her footing on the stairs. “Is that you?”

“Who–?” The voice broke off.

Nimue heard footsteps and Morgana appeared, holding a lantern high to banish the shadows in the stairwell. “It is you. I thought I felt–” She shook her head. “Come quickly, before anyone sees you.”

Morgana turned around. Nimue followed her cautiously down the steps into what had been Ygraine’s sitting room. Comfortable chairs for conversation over needlework or a glass of wine were long gone.

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