The Pendragon's Challenge (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 7) by Sarah Woodbury

Author:Sarah Woodbury [Woodbury, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Morgan-Stanwood Publishing Group
Published: 2016-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Goronwy

“How do you want to handle this?” Goronwy said. “Straight up to the front door and knock like at Caer Ddu or go in the back way like at Caer Dathyl?”

Taliesin chewed on his lower lip as he studied the castle, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Which do you think turned out better?”

“Both have their merits. I think the straightforward approach is preferable to sneaking around, but this isn’t my world, and I’ve never been here before.”

“Neither have I,” Taliesin said.

All three of Taliesin’s companions gaped at him. “Then—then—” Catrin started to speak but immediately gave up.

“I have never been here before.” As he spoke, Taliesin’s voice deepened and grew scratchy, as if he’d spent too much time in a room full of thick smoke. “I didn’t say that that I didn’t know the way.”

Goronwy felt a chill run through him. He didn’t know very much about who or what the bard was, but from the few comments Cade and Taliesin himself had made about Taliesin’s past, Goronwy had inferred that he’d lived many lives, as impossible as that sounded, as if his soul had been transferred from one body to another as soon as the physical shell had worn out.

It was an uncomfortable thought, though no different in principle from the idea that Cade was the return of King Arthur. Which was a known fact.

“I’m not going to ask what you know that we don’t, Taliesin,” Goronwy said, “because you’ll only say everything, so instead I’ll ask to whom that castle belongs.”

Taliesin didn’t respond immediately—and this time it wasn’t as if he was lost in thought. Goronwy would have recognized that particular vacant expression if it were on Taliesin’s face. Instead, it was as if he’d suddenly aged a hundred years. His back curved like an old man’s, and his steps shortened.

Mabon was oblivious to the undercurrents and to Taliesin’s physical transformation—or at least he was ignoring it. He kicked a rock out of the path and sneered, “Caer Wydr belongs to my grandmother. I cannot believe you brought me here.”

“Dôn isn’t here just now,” Taliesin said.

“I know that, but she could return at any moment!”

“I imagine she has other concerns—or at least I’m hoping she does,” Taliesin said.

“You’re hoping?” Goronwy said.

Taliesin canted his head, and for a heartbeat he was his young self again. “I have had no vision of this moment. It was one of the reasons I came. It seemed to me that something has been directing my sight—masking it, rather—and it was time to confront that power.” Then he looked directly at Goronwy. “I would ask you to try again and see. Your abilities go beyond the strength of your arms. Catrin and I both sense the magic here, but you can see more than we can in this instance.”

“How can you possibly think that?” Goronwy said.

Taliesin stepped closer and lowered his voice, so that his words were for Goronwy’s ears alone. “I knew you as a boy, though you don’t remember it. You can see auras, not only around people but around things.

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