The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(44)

“Are you okay?” Cybele’s hand came to rest on his upper back.

“Yes. No.” He expelled a breath. “Damn it, I don’t know.”

“Well. So long as we’ve got that straightened out.” A bubble of laughter escaped her lips. The sound steadied him.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” she said. “What’s the first thing you remember?”

“I was... I mean, Merlin was...walking. Carrying a pack and his staff. The shaft of the staff was oak, rowan, and yew, all twisted together. At the top, the branches separated to hold a stone. A sphere of colorless quartz, bigger than my fist.”

“Go on.”

“A woman was with me. She was...very beautiful.”

“Of course she was,” Cybele said dryly. “Was she a Nephil?”

“No. A witch. My student. More than that. I loved her.”

“Merlin loved her, Arthur. Not you.”

Her disgruntled tone made his lips twitch. “Right. Merlin had found Nimue in the forest, close to death. When she regained her strength, she told him that a year before, she’d been brutally raped. She’d given birth to an infant boy. She abandoned the baby at a monastery and went into the wilderness to take her own life. Nimue had considerable magical talent. Merlin decided to teach her to defend herself with it. In the course of awakening her power, he fell in love.”

“Where did they go? In the memory, I mean.”

“They circled a hill. There was boulder, split in two. They passed through the halves into an underground cavern. There was a wide pool in the cave, with an island in the center of the water. Merlin and Nimue made love on that island.” His heart beat faster. “It was—”

Cybele cleared her throat. “Too much information, Arthur.”

He flushed. “All right. Let’s just say...it was good. Afterward, I—”

“He. Merlin.”

“Yes. Afterward, Merlin fell asleep.”

“What happened when he woke up?”

“That’s where it gets fuzzy. The legends say Nimue trapped Merlin in that cave. I don’t believe that—no human witch could contain a Nephil. But it’s said Merlin died in the cave, alone. With his staff beside him.”

He lifted his eyes to hers. “My father searched for Merlin’s cave his entire life. He followed every story, every rumor, visited every place that claimed to be the final resting place of the great sorcerer. He wanted to be the one to find the lost staff. It wasn’t to be. It’s my duty to complete his quest.”

Cybele’s eyes flew to his. “Does that mean you know where it is?”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “It does.”

***

Maweth eased away from the attic window. His wings shook badly. He didn’t quite trust them to carry him. Crunchy poop on a cracker! He was lucky Arthur had lingered in the garden long enough to find the spell. Double lucky the Nephil had been too distraught to see it for what it was.

He shivered. If Arthur had any sort of reasonable control over his magic, Maweth would be screaming in agony right now. He’d had a narrow escape. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Scrambling up to the peak of the roof, he grabbed onto a chimney and waited for his limbs to stop twitching.

The twenty-four hours since Lucky’s impetuous leap to Maweth’s defense had been hell. Upon realizing he actually had an angel in his power, Dusek promptly took off for Wales, of all places. He’d visited a chilly cave—a place no Nephil, unescorted by celestial magic, could have entered. Fat lot of good it’d done him. He hadn’t been able to get what he wanted from the place.

But Dusek wasn’t one to let a little setback derail his cause. It was straight on to Plan B, a plan involving Arthur Camulus. Maweth thoroughly disapproved. The young Nephil was extremely unstable. Any scheme involving his magic was sure to backfire. He’d told Dusek as much. Had the stubborn Nephil listened? No, oh no. He had not.

Maweth gazed longingly to the south. He wanted to fly that way, rather than north to Dusek in Wales. An instant later, he was consumed with shame for even thinking such a thing. He couldn’t, just couldn’t, abandon Lucky.

Stupid angel.





TEN


“Tell me what your Ordeal was like,” Cybele asked.

Arthur, startled, cut her a glance. Her green eyes gazed steadily back at him. Damn it, she was serious. “I hardly think a train station is the best place to discuss it,” he said.

“I don’t agree. We’re stuck here in freaking Bristol for the next two hours. We have to talk about something. Or...” She gave him a pointed look. “We could just fly to Carmarthen.”

She had a point, Arthur conceded. It was barmy to take public transport when they could fly. That, however, would require shifting to demon form and carrying her.

It was a risk he wouldn’t take. Lust and unstable magic was a dangerous combination. Cybele already had the bruises to prove it. Even sitting on a hard plastic bench, shoulder to shoulder with her, was chancy. He was the driest of tinder, she the spark that could ignite him into a roaring inferno.

And now she wanted to talk about his Ordeal?

“You know why we can’t fly,” he said irritably. “Could you kindly quit nagging me about it?”

“Let’s talk, then. What was it like, being that close to death? How long was it from when you took the overdose to when you entered the Ordeal?”