Dark Sorceress: A Sapphic Retelling of the Legends of King Arthur by Clara Ann Simons

Dark Sorceress: A Sapphic Retelling of the Legends of King Arthur by Clara Ann Simons

Author:Clara Ann Simons [Simons, Clara Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-24T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 17

Ana

The wizard before me is a riddle wrapped in an enigma, setting my nerves on edge. I don’t trust him at all. If he’s my ticket back to my own time, I’m in some serious trouble. The guy’s coming off more like a carnival con artist than a mighty sorcerer.

“Can I ask something?” My voice is barely a whisper, and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

“I would imagine you have a million questions that will be answered in due time, Ana, with a curious mind.” His cryptic talk is his usual spiel. “Some of which you are not yet ready to hear the answers to,” he adds.

“But seriously, can I just ask?” I’m pushing it now, my patience running thin with the wizard while Nimue looks on, clearly taken aback.

“You may ask, though I may choose not to answer,” Mordred says, unruffled.

Great. The freaking wizard is driving me up a wall. As if popping into the middle of Camelot wasn’t enough of a curveball. I’m at a point where I’m not sure if it’s worth pressing on or not. It feels like he’s yanking my chain instead of lending a hand.

This is not the Camelot I’ve seen in movies: wizards are supposed to be helpful. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my fraying nerves, and decide to give it another shot. This time I’ll throw him a curveball that’s not about me, see how he reacts.

“How come the stories from my time paint Camelot so differently?” I ask, genuinely puzzled. “I mean, in my time, Arthur’s a great king, not a usurper. Merlin’s a celebrated wizard, and there’s no mention of the Primigenii, and you are not even a wizard but a knight. There are so many differences.”

Mordred looks at me, surprise flickering across his face like he’s clueless about what I’m talking about.

“I will answer your question,” he says slowly, stroking his long beard as if trying to draw out its length even more. “There are two possible explanations. One is that Merlin used the same portal you did—or a similar one—to reach the future and alter history. Or, it may simply be that Arthur does rise to power with Merlin’s aid and shapes the narrative to his liking.”

“Well, that’s just great,” I mutter to myself.

I maintain a poker face as the wizard lays out the options, neither of which appeals to me in the least. But my unease pales in comparison to the looks of downright alarm etched on the faces around this bizarre gathering.

Uther’s face has crumbled into a mask of dismay. Nimue’s turned ghostly pale, and the old king buries his face in his hands, shaking his head in utter despair. The only one unfazed, maybe even pleased, is Igraine, and for some reason, I’m starting to really hate her.

“Nimue mentioned the time portal had a rune that limited how long it stayed open. If Merlin’s gone through to the future and I’ve come back, could he still be there?” I break the silence, hoping to slice through the thick tension in the air.



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