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To keep Thalia and everyone else out of my head, I pictured the mason, the man who laid the bricks around Arthur’s burial site. He worked inside my head, his labor much like it was that day in the cold snow, slow and deliberate, but it would serve me now to block out prying eyes and ears. It had been a wretched day for a burial. The snow had been relentless and numbing, yet I would not be moved. I didn’t want to leave Arthur. If I did, it would have to be true—my husband was dead. And he was. Or so I believed then. A part of me still believed that I should have stayed there and died. Too late now.
Move faster, bricklayer. Do your work! I recalled the horrible sound of thick mortar slapping the bricks. It was a unique sound, one I would never forget. Yes, I could see the wall go up. I pictured it perfectly.
The stone circle lay miles away. It was certainly much faster to get there through my dreams, but it was impossible to bring Lancelot and Arthur with me that way. But I knew where to go. Despite my attempts to push back any influences in my mind, I could hear a voice. It was only a whisper but clear nonetheless.
Nimue!
As she spoke to me through whispers and pictures, we quickly traveled to the stone circle. Only Lancelot appeared winded by the journey, but then again, he wasn’t the warrior in this life that he had been before. He hadn’t changed much: his eyes were slightly larger, his hair a little longer, his skin paler, but the more I studied him, the more I was astonished that neither Arthur nor I had recognized him at first. It was as if he had hidden in plain sight. What would Morgan think about this turn of events? No, I would not think of her. Bricklayer! Help me now!
“This way,” I said as I walked to the center of the circle and waited for the portal to reappear. We waited for some time, but nothing happened. Arthur looked at me expectantly and halfheartedly offered me Excalibur, as if it would be the key to opening the door to Camelot. I pretended that the sword did not hum my name once or twice, that I didn’t want to hold it in my hands, but I knew I fooled no one. Arthur could hear the sword like no one could, and knowing that it spoke another’s name hurt him. Yes, it must hurt him, for Excalibur had only ever called his name and his father’s. Briefly, I made the bricklayer disappear and spoke to Arthur with my mind.
Whatever you might think of me, Arthur, I do not want to steal your sword. I kept it for you, remember?
My husband’s ashamed expression said it all. He did not speak again. Lancelot sat on the rock at my feet, and Arthur stood behind me. Finally, I called out to Nimue. If it had been her magic that gave me entrance to begin with, it would be her magic that opened the door to us now. Calling her mind directly might be dangerous, but I didn’t seem to have any choice. I had hoped to surprise the Sleeping Queen, but perhaps that too was only fantasy.
“Nimue! I am here. I have brought...our friends. Open the gate, Nimue! Please! Open for us.”
Barely had I spoken the words when the shimmer appeared at the edge of the stone circle, right where I had seen it last. It was much larger than I remembered. The men did not notice the portal at first, but I leaped down from the stone and walked toward it, and both Arthur and Lancelot were on my heels.
“What is that?” Lancelot asked like a dullard.
“It is why we are here,” I answered. Before stepping through I said to them both, “Keep control of your mind. Queen Thalia can read your thoughts. Arthur, if the sun is up, if it is not dim like the last time I was here, I want you to...”
“I will protect you, Guinevere. Lancelot and I will push you back through.”
I was going to say, “Let me burn,” but I did not argue with him. There was no time for that.
“Wait...we are going through there?” Lancelot asked in astonishment.
“Time to put that theory of yours to the test, Doctor,” I answered with an attempt at a smile. I could tell by his response that I didn’t quite succeed. “Have a little faith in yourself.” With my head down, I walked through the shimmering portal and immediately stepped into the sepia world of Camelot. A few seconds later, Arthur came through behind me, swearing under his breath and gripping Excalibur. Lancelot screamed in surprise but muffled it quickly. Just like last time, my clothing had changed, only this time my gown was black, as if I were in mourning. Arthur’s and Lancelot’s clothing also changed. Both men were wearing a bright blue color, with a red rose emblem on the chest. This was obviously part of Thalia’s enchantment, and her message was clear. I was not wanted, but Arthur and Lancelot were in her service.
“What in the world happened?” Lancelot asked as he rubbed at the sleeve of his tunic.
“Magic, Lancelot. Deceptive magic. At least she could not harm the sword.”
“Where do we go, Guinevere?”
“To the left is Sun’s coffin, to the right, Moon’s.”
“Look, Guinevere. Who is that?” Arthur had his sword ready, and Lancelot touched my arm as if to push me behind him. I resisted, of course. Focusing my eyes, I watched the figure appear briefly and then duck behind a large, moss-covered tree. It was Nimue.
I stepped toward her and said, “Come out, Nimue. I will not hurt you again. Look, Arthur and Lancelot are here.” She remained hidden behind a massive myrtle with brown, dying leaves. Was everything dying here? Even the grass felt stiff, as if no rain had fallen in a very long time.
“Lancelot?” she whispered in awe.
“Yes,” he answered her uncertainly.
I walked a few feet toward her but stopped before I reached the tree. Nimue stepped out now; a head cloth covered much of her face, but what I could see was shocking. She was not much more than skin and bones, her skin was gray, almost translucent, with dark shadows under her eyes and cheeks. Her eyes expressed hunger; I recognized this, but I was probably the only one. She did not bare her teeth or threaten us in any way. As always, Nimue’s love for others was apparent. But the shee blood has a way of changing that, doesn’t it? Who knows what she is capable of now? After what I’d done to her, she had every right to attack me, but what about Arthur and Lancelot?
“Nimue?” Arthur said with some sympathy in his voice. “What happened to you?”
Nimue did not accuse me or even let on what had happened. “Do not fear for me, my king. Fear for yourself. Thalia knew you would return, both of you. She wants your blood, Guinevere. She knows it would make her stronger, strong enough to subdue Arthur, even with Excalibur in his hand. It would make her strong enough to change Arthur and forever make him as she is, as you are...as I am. You will be Pendragon no longer, Arthur, but the Sleeping King.” Her somber voice sounded dry and papery.
“Never!” Lancelot shouted indignantly.
“That is her intention, but with all of us working together, it will not be so easy now,” Nimue said with a nod of acknowledgment to our newly rediscovered friend. Suddenly, we heard giggling coming from the woods all around us. It was hard to detect where the sound came from. Yes, it was the laughter of children, devilish children. Clearly, Sun and Moon knew we were here.
And they were coming toward us.
Nimue waved at us and said, “Come this way. If we hurry, we can end Thalia while she sleeps in her bed. That is when she is her weakest. Her resting place is this way, in an old church. You might recognize it, Guinevere. It is in an orchard that belonged to your father.”
“Yes, I know it.” That was where I’d first laid eyes on my husband, where I’d stolen some apples and fallen in love with Arthur Pendragon. I looked at him now and saw that he clearly remembered too. He squeezed my hand gently. It was strange to feel such warmth, to feel love again. I hardly knew how to respond.
“Remember your love for one another. It will help you. Listen to me, Arthur. Queen Thalia will enchant you if she can. Men find it hard to resist her, not merely because she is beautiful but because her magic is powerful, like a web that wraps around you. Let us go.”
The four of us ran together toward the church, which was difficult to locate in this dense forest. Just when I thought Nimue had forgotten the way, she stopped.
“Her resting place is just past those trees. We cannot delay, my king. It is still dusk; thankfully, time moves much more slowly here. Thalia and her children are weakest at the time between day and night. This way,” Nimue said as she sailed in front of us. For someone who looked so close to death, so corpse-like, I sensed she was much stronger than before. Perhaps my blood did her some good after all. I felt hungry just thinking of my sharing blood with Nimue. I had tracked the Oaf earlier, surprised him in his own home and taken the blood I needed. However, as he was not yet a killer himself, I did not kill him. He would recover eventually.
I could see the crumbling structure. Yes, I remembered this place. The church once had two floors with an even taller bell tower. The front wall had crumbled, and only partial walls stood along the sides, but the back wall remained somewhat intact. Queen Thalia’s glass coffin was where the altar once stood—she’d apparently set herself up to be the center of attention, the focus of worship. Although it infuriated me to see her here in this holy place, at least she had not yet claimed Camelot’s throne room. Then I allowed myself a thought I had not permitted before: Camelot still stood! I’d seen the throne room in my dream. As Nimue said, time passed slowly in this realm.
Nimue interrupted my thoughts. I’d neglected to summon the image of the bricklayer to shield myself. Shh...she does not truly sleep. Protect Arthur!
I thought of the bricklayer now and focused on my surroundings. Queen Thalia was more striking than I remembered. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, with her rosy skin, slightly flushed cheeks and lips, long white hair and youthful frame. She appeared the picture of health, a sleeping beauty awaiting her prince. Woe to the prince who summoned the courage to open her glass coffin. She would certainly kill him.
“I’ll go,” Arthur said, his jaw popping with determination—or excitement. Excalibur glowed mightily. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I read my husband’s mind.
Arthur thought Thalia beautiful, too beautiful to be a murderous bitch. How could she be so terrible?
Look at her. She is just a girl... I hear your voice, Queen Thalia. I am sorry you are trapped in there. How cruel! Yes, I will free you now, with a kiss. I understand.
Before I could warn him properly, I saw what he missed. Sun and Moon appeared seemingly out of thin air and stood on either side of Thalia’s coffin. Arthur didn’t say anything but began walking toward the stairs. He was clearly under her spell. How quickly and easily she’d enchanted him!
“No! Arthur! It is a trick!” Nimue grabbed his arm and snapped her fingers in front of his face. He shoved her aside, and she hissed at him in an ancient language, the same one she and Merlin occasionally used to communicate. Arthur shook his head and clutched Excalibur tighter, and the blade hummed vibrantly. The sword spoke many words now, too many to clearly understand, in that same language.
Sun and Moon flew upstairs in tandem. Their pendants shone brightly around their necks, and I deflected the light with my hand. As suddenly as they flew up, they then dived from the second floor and landed about ten feet from us. Their faces said it all—they were here to kill us.
Arthur’s confused expression worried me. Once again, I listened to his thoughts and was dismayed to find that Thalia was speaking to him.
Arthur, King of Camelot! I offer you and your kingdom peace. I have no ill will toward you, Arthur, but surely you see that Guinevere cannot rule now. She is cursed, Pendragon. If she were to rule, her curse would destroy Camelot, destroy everything...Arthur...I offer you my friendship. Let us reign together...we can rule, together! We will bring a new reign of love and peace in Camelot.
Arthur raced toward the glass coffin and yelled, “There is only one queen in Camelot!”
As if it were a tangible thing, I felt the hatred of Thalia’s children focus on Arthur. They were enraged that he refused to fall under the Sleeping Queen’s spell, refused to give Thalia what she wanted. But what was that?
His life! His blood! His soul! Nimue answered me.
Then the scene changed, and we all danced around one another as if in slow motion. Everyone was moving at the same time. Arthur yelled angrily at Thalia’s children as Nimue charged Sun with her hands extended. Moon shook his head vigorously, like a big shaggy dog shaking off fleas, which sent Arthur and Lancelot flying against the bricks like two rag dolls.
Before I could help them, Thalia’s glass coffin began to shake and suddenly her eyes flew open. The lid shifted, and she moved so quickly that even my vampire eyes did not see her.
Until we stood face to face.
