Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(51)

So he’d used potions to create the charms.

“It’s Merlin,” Roarke said. “Creating the charm with potion magic.”

I gasped. “No, two charms.”

In the scene below the one with the cauldron, Merlin stood with a charm dangling from a chain clutched in each hand.

“Guinevere was only wearing one.” My gaze raced down the stone. Where did that other charm go?

Roarke pointed to an image at the bottom of the first stone. “There he is, giving the first charm to Guinevere.”

I crouched down and peered at the carvings. Below, on a separate scene, Merlin gave a charm to a mounted knight. A large crown adorned the brow of the knight.

“Arthur,” I said. “One for Guinevere, one for Arthur.”

“Why would Arthur want a concealment charm?” Roarke asked.

“Maybe he didn’t.” My gaze raced down the stone, taking in the various scenes. “Maybe he needed something else.”

The bottom of the first stone showed Arthur and Guinevere parting ways, though it was impossible to tell how they felt about the separation. Happy? Sad? My heart thundered as I moved to the second stone.

The second stone showed Guinevere at a cathedral. She sat outside in a garden. Though the details of her face had been worn away by hundreds of years of wind and rain, her posture made her look content. There were other scenes of her life—her meeting with other people, her dancing, singing, and finally dying and being laid to rest in a crypt. I recognized the distinctive tower that had adorned Glastonbury Abbey. This stone finished her story.

I moved to the third and final stone. At the top was a scene of Arthur riding his horse toward a massive castle. I expected a battle in the next scene, but instead, he was welcomed to the castle. The pendant that Merlin had given him was clearly displayed around his neck. But rather than witnessing his life as I had Guinevere’s, I saw Arthur go down into a crypt beneath the castle walls. Several knights followed him as well. His knights of the round table?

“He’s going to his death,” Roarke said.

“How can you tell?”

“He climbs into a sarcophagus in the next scene. And look at the mourners.”

Roarke was right. Arthur was shown kneeling in a great stone box, unmistakable as a sarcophagus. And the people around him had their heads bowed. My gaze skipped to the next scene where Arthur was shown drinking a potion. The next carving showed him resting peacefully, his sword laid upon his chest just below the charm pendant.

“Why?” I asked. “Why would Arthur poison himself?”

“He doesn’t.” Understanding laced Roarke’s voice. “This is the only myth about Arthur that I ever really knew, because it explained why he never ended up in the Underworld.”

“You would know.” He’d sure noticed when I’d gotten out. “What happens?”

Roarke nodded. “Arthur puts himself into eternal slumber beneath one of his strongholds where he waits to rise again, should England need him.”

“Oooh.” That was good. Very romantic and self-sacrificing. My favorite type of myth. “But you said he never goes to the Underworld.”

“Exactly. Because if he did, he couldn’t come back and defend England in its hour of need.” Roarke turned to me, catching my gaze with his own, which pinned me to the spot. “It’s impossible to escape the Underworld and rise again.”

I swallowed hard. The undercurrent in his words was clear. You, Delphine Bellator, have done the impossible. Something even King Arthur knew he could not do.

“So what’s the deal with Arthur? How will he rise again?” I asked, hoping he’d follow my lead away from talking about me.

He gave me a sharp look, but continued. “No one knows. He wasn’t born immortal. No one is.” Roarke pointed to the final scenes.

Arthur, rising from the crypt while a horde of warriors attacked his castle. The pendant around his neck was surrounded by concentric circles that made it look like it was vibrating.

“The pendant,” I said. “Merlin’s charm. It must have kept Arthur from crossing over to the Underworld.”

“That’s why he never ended up in my domain. His soul has been waiting here on Earth, ready to rise when it is needed. Merlin’s magic made it possible.”

“Whoa.” I stepped back, my mind spinning. “So Merlin’s other charm can keep the wearer out of hell.”

“Yes. I’d heard rumors of such a thing amongst some of hell’s darker denizens, but thought they were ridiculous. But those rumors came from Merlin himself, bragging of his old magic.” Worry entered his dark gaze.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “There’s something worse about this kind of charm. That if you wore it once, you were imbued with its magic.”

“Wait, so if the Ubilaz demon even puts it on, it doesn’t matter if we take it from him? He’s immortal forever?”

“Precisely.”





Chapter Twelve





“No question, then,” Roarke said. “That’s what the Ubilaz demon is after.”

“Yeah, he could have learned about it in the Underworld. Ubilaz demons are ancient. He may have even spoken to Merlin in the Underworld and learned what the charm can do.”