Song of the Sword Read Online Free Page B

moment, she felt luminescent, ablaze with light, like a living star, so much so that as she became aware of the chamber again she thought she could see light streaming from her skin, outshining the diluted rays of the sun far above.
    But then the Lady thrust her away, and the light disappeared. Instantly Ariane felt the cold embrace of the water again, up to her knees now, pulling and sucking at her calves. Her teeth began to chatter.
    “Go!” the Lady cried. Her once-perfect form dripped and sagged. “This place will soon cease to exist! Go! Accept the power! Find the shards of Excalibur! Stop him!” She turned her dripping face toward the boy. “I charge both of you with this quest! You must help her!”
    “Both of us?” Ariane shot a startled look at the strange red-headed kid, but he was already splashing toward the exit, his malfunctioning phone lost beneath the water. Ariane followed, but she paused at the dissolving archway. She looked back, hoping for a farewell: a final charge or a benediction.
    Instead, she saw the figure of the Lady melt away. One moment she was there; the next, a column of water splashed to the floor of the chamber, raising a wave that raced out and lapped around Ariane’s waist. Ariane stared, then fled, splashing up the stairs through the descending torrent like a salmon swimming upstream.
    ~ • ~
    Merlin raised his aching head from the surface of the desk and ran a shaking hand through sweat-soaked steel-gray hair. His racing heart began to slow. It had taken all his strength, but he had driven the Lady’s consciousness back into Faerie, out of this world – his world – once more.
    But had it been in time?
    Two and a half years ago, the last time she had tried this, had been his moment of greatest peril. He had been weaker then, his thin-stretched web of magic able to sense what was happening but unable to transmit any of his sadly diminished power to put a stop to it. But for whatever reason, the Lady failed to bestow her power on the human woman she had called to herself, her heir in this age. He didn’t know why. Nor had he been able to discover who the woman had been, though he had tried.
    Now the Lady had made a second attempt. This time a thread of his magic had been close enough that he had not only sensed her presence but had been able to respond swiftly. But had he been swift enough?
    And to whom had she attempted to give her power? The same woman, or someone else?
    He frowned. If the Lady had succeeded, if some mortal now had the Lady’s power, then he faced a potentially dangerous adversary. In Faerie, the Lady had had some skill with water; on Earth, she ruled over water like a goddess. And though she could never return to Earth in her own body – the door between Earth and Faerie would have to swing wide for that to be possible, and the Faerie Queen and Council of Clades would never permit it – anyone she had given her power to would have far more magic to draw on than he did. His magic came entirely from Faerie, and with the door so nearly shut, he could draw on only a sad trickle of the vast might he had once wielded. But the source of the Lady’s power was all the fresh water of the Earth. From Faerie she drew only the ability to use that power.
    One day, with Excalibur in his hand, he would force that door open from this side, regain his full strength, and march through at the head of a mighty army to unite both worlds under his reign... as should have happened long ago ...but until then...
    Of course, had they been able to, the Queen and Council would have long since closed the portal between the two worlds completely, cutting him off from Faerie, tearing away the last vestiges of his magic, and sentencing him to live, and soon die, as a mortal man. He rubbed the ruby stud he wore in his pierced right ear, and smiled. But they could not close that door completely. He had seen to that. And so he still lived – as did his vision of a united Faerie and