The Fire of Merlin (The Return to Camelot #2)
Donna Hosie
Chapter One
Blasts from the Past
I could hear Arthur’s breath behind me. The thick grass was bouncing underneath the soles of my black leather boots. The worn heel sank into the dirt as I struggled to stay ahead of my brother.
But this race was mine to own.
That pinprick of light was getting closer. I could still hear the distant tone of the bell, but it was starting to melt away with the wind chimes. The other four figures were now running from the trees; they were having their own race. My race was to Bedivere.
It was real. He was here.
I leapt up at him. Tightening my legs around his waist, the air was pushed out of my lungs as our bodies collided. In my world we had been parted for five horrible long months. I had so much time to grab back. Bedivere held onto me so tightly I couldn’t see where my body stopped and his began.
“You found me,” I sobbed.
“You…survived,” was all he could stammer in that voice I had never forgotten.
And then his mouth was on mine and I wanted to own him in every way imaginable.
Bedivere put me down on the ground. I stared at him. He stared at me. The chorus of angels in my head was quickly beaten to a pulp by my inner devil.
Your hair is greasy, your skin is spotty, and did you get dressed in the dark? Get real, girl. He won’t stay. None of them will. This isn’t their time.
“I don’t believe it,” gasped Arthur. He and the other knights had now joined me and Bedivere. “How did you get here? When did you get here?”
The four other knights were smiling at one another. They looked relieved, satisfied. Tristram, the blonde curly-haired knight who was the same age as me; Gareth, plump-faced with friendly hazel eyes; Talan, the Irish knight who, at twenty years old, was the oldest of the five friends and who would rather sing than speak; and finally David, the youngest knight, who had been with me during the Solsbury Hill attack.
Were our five friends now five strangers once more?
Bedivere lowered his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes and whispered something that I couldn’t catch. I held my breath, waiting for his beautiful green eyes to open to me once more.
This isn’t their time.
His time is my time, I thought angrily. Don’t do this to me, not now.
Finally the windows of his soul opened up to me, and I knew Bedivere really was mine again.
“If I may, Sir Bedivere?” asked Gareth. Bedivere smiled and stepped aside. “Lady Natasha,” said Gareth, and he bent low in front of me and then gently kissed my hand. Tristram, Talan and David copied their friend and I giggled like a stupid idiot. Arthur rolled his eyes and I made a face at him. It was all right for him, Arthur was treated like a king by everyone. I was the freak, but these guys made me feel important and I liked it.
“How did you get here?” asked Arthur again. “What are you doing here?” I was trying to gauge his reaction by the tone of his voice. Was Arthur pleased or wary about the sudden interruption to our time? I couldn’t tell, and it made me nervous.
“It is a long tale, Arthur,” replied Bedivere, looking back at me. “Much has changed in the kingdom of Logres since you departed.”
“I can’t believe you found me - found us.” I gazed into Bedivere’s face. Screw Arthur. Who cared why they were here? They were, and that was all that mattered.
“
I told you I would find you, even if I had to travel through the boughs of time itself. ” The tips of Bedivere’s fingers brushed my lips and chin. I could feel his warm breath on my face.
“OY! There will be no more kissing my sister here,” called Arthur. “It makes me feel quite ill.”
Bedivere immediately dropped his arms. “As you wish, sire.”
“Oh, bite me, Arthur,” I snapped, and I grabbed Bedivere around the neck and pulled him towards me.
I could kiss Bedivere for the rest of eternity and it still wouldn’t be long enough. Blood wound through my veins like the golden ink on the Round Table, reawakening everything that had become a living death.
“Take care, Sir Bedivere,” said Sir Tristram. “Our king may yet remove your head and serve it to the hounds.”
The laughter that followed wasn’t quiet. Even Arthur joined in, once Bedivere had pulled away from me and had sheepishly turned around to face his…king.
Arthur was going to be impossible to live with now.
The five knights, Arthur and I had formed an uneven circle. There were a thousand questions now storming through my head. How did they get here? Where was that deep ringing coming from? What had passed since Sir Archibald had taken his revenge in that cold chamber in Camelot? Was Bedivere going to leave me once more? Why did my head hurt so much?
He’s only just arrived and already you’re thinking of him going. Could you be more needy and pathetic?
Fantastic. Just when I thought my darkness had become too depressing even for my inner voice to cope with, it was back like a nasty smell.
Speaking of which - or should that be witch?
“What the hell are they doing here?”
I felt Bedivere’s back stiffen as Slurpy caught up with me and Arthur. He swapped the briefest of glances with Tristram and the others, but all five knights nodded in some perverse kind of reverence as my brother wrapped his arm around Slurpy’s shoulders. Arthur seemed to relax, but Slurpy was glaring daggers at everyone, especially me, like I had somehow managed to summon them all here by simply wishing hard enough.