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They reached the pass into the Sky Meadows at dawn. It was an unassuming break in the rock, and on the other side an expanse of fields stretched ahead of them, encompassed by a ring of rock. Drifts of mist rose from the ground, mingling with the scent of wild flowers and grass.
High above them was a city in the air, its buildings shimmering in the pale dawn light, and in the centre of the meadows was a beam of light leading to the city above. The sound of water drew them to their left, and they found a stream running into a shallow pool.
“Thank the gods,” Arthur said, as they dismounted. “I stink of lamia blood.”
“Is it worse than dragon blood?” Woodsmoke asked.
“Actually I think it is. There’s more of it on me, anyway.” And he was right. The entire front of his body was covered in blood that was now drying in thick crusty clots. It was even in his hair.
Tom glanced down at his shirt where a broad splatter of blood from the lamia’s beheading had landed across his chest. “The sylphs will wonder what’s going on if we turn up like this. Honestly, Arthur. Two beheadings in one day.” He tried to push the memory of killing the servant to the back of his mind.
“I am not responsible for the second one!” Arthur exclaimed.
“Three beheadings in a week!” Woodsmoke reminded them. “You are responsible for the dragon, though, Arthur.”
Throwing off their clothes they waded into the pool, washing away the blood and dust.
“Does anyone need to rest?” Arthur asked.
Woodsmoke winced as he explored his bruised ribs. “No, let’s just get on with it. But I should warn you, if the sylphs choose to attack, we will have no chance.”
“Why not?” Tom asked.
“They’re a warrior race, much stronger than we are, and our weapons will be of little use against them. Even Excalibur. There’s a reason the other realms let them be.”
With Woodsmoke’s warning ringing in their ears, they tied the horses up next to the pool and set off on foot, striding through the waist-high grasses. It reminded Tom of the meadows outside Finnlugh’s Under-Palace.
The Sky Meadows seemed eerily devoid of life. There were no other fey or sylphs, and they crossed in silence. Soon they reached the beam of light which, close up, was much larger than Tom expected.
“What are we supposed to do now?” he asked.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Arthur said, and stepped into it.
“Arthur, wait,” Woodsmoke said, reaching to grab his arm.
But he’d gone, disappearing in a split second.
Tom looked around, alarmed. “Where’s he gone?”
Woodsmoke sighed. “Up there, I hope. Come on, let’s follow, and hope it’s not going to kill us.”
They stepped through together, and instantly Tom felt a sensation similar to that he’d experienced in the portals, although it was over more quickly. The feeling had barely registered before he found himself on a large platform facing a walled city. Arthur and Woodsmoke stood next to him.
Tom looked down and let out an involuntary yelp. “I can see through the floor!”
Far below were the Sky Meadows, a small patch of green amongst the mountain ridges. He clutched his stomach. “I feel sick. Is the floor safe?” he asked, tentatively stretching out a toe.
Woodsmoke took a few paces and looked back at Tom, grinning. “I think we’re good, Tom.”
“So this is the Realm of Air,” Arthur said, looking impressed.
The city was a white-walled vision. It stretched ahead of them, the curve of its walls disappearing into drifting clouds at either side. But more impressive was its height. A multitude of buildings soared high above them, disappearing into the clouds. Every now and then the clouds drifted away, and Tom could see towers glittering in rays of sunshine.
They headed to the city gates and were met by a sylph carrying a long silver spear. He was far taller than them, and his body-length wings were tucked behind him. Unnervingly he was dressed for combat, wearing a breastplate and armguards, and he had the hardened face of the battle-ready. He was pale and blonde, and Tom felt he was in the presence of an angel.
“Welcome to the Realm of Air. What do you seek here?”
“We seek Merlin,” Arthur said. “We believe he was brought here.”
“And you are?”
Arthur introduced them all. “We were with him at Ceridwen’s Cauldron.”
The sylph looked at them thoughtfully. “Yes, we who guard the city have been warned to expect you.”
“Warned?” Arthur asked cautiously. “We are his friends. We helped resurrect him. Can you take us to him?”
“No. You are to go to Adalyn, Commander of the City Guard. She wishes to see you first. Follow me.”
He led them up a series of stairs built into the walls, until finally they emerged into a circular tower looking out across the city. The broad windows were open and a chill breeze drifted into the room. Seated at a central table was an older white-haired sylph. She lifted her head from the papers in front of her as they entered, and Tom was shocked to see a large scar that began on her right cheek and continued across where her right eye should have been. It was rare to see disfigurement in the fey.
“Adalyn. Merlin’s companions from the Cauldron are here.”
She sighed. “You have come. We weren’t sure you would.” She turned to the sylph. “You may go.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Arthur asked, bristling with annoyance as the door shut behind them. “My reunion with Merlin was interrupted. I thought I’d try again.”
She stood up, towering over all of them. “I do not apologise for rescuing Merlin when he summoned us. He felt vulnerable with the witch Nimue in your company.”
“Nimue was not with us,” Arthur retorted angrily.
Adalyn held her hand up to stop Arthur. “I do not accuse you of betraying him,” she said softly. “All those who are twice born feel weak on awakening. Her presence was an unpleasant reminder of his imprisonment.”
Tom took a deep breath of relief as the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, and sensed Arthur also taking a moment to gather himself.
“So, we can see him?” he continued. “We have travelled a long way.”
“What is your intent?” she asked, moving around the table.
“Just to see him. I want to make sure he is all right, and then we leave. That’s all.”
“You are?”
“Arthur, King of the Britons. Merlin’s very old friend,” he added, a little defiantly.
“Yes, of course.” She smiled, looking far less severe. “He has talked of you recently. Where is the witch now?”
They shuffled nervously as Arthur answered, “In Dragons’ Hollow, defending the city and rebuilding the spell.”
Adalyn looked confused. “Why does she need to rebuild the spell?”
Crap. Tom glanced at the other two, who like him were trying to look as innocent as possible.
“Because Raghnall has died, and therefore the spell has ceased to work,” Arthur said vaguely.
Arthur looked the most uncomfortable Tom had ever seen him, and they must all be wondering the same things. How well did the sylphs get on with Raghnall? Would they be upset at his death? And how much trouble would they be in if they knew Arthur had killed him?
But all Adalyn said was, “So the passage to the Sky Meadows may close again.” She shrugged. “It does not concern us. I shall escort you to Merlin’s house.”
As they followed her to the top of the city walls, where the winds were strong and cold, Tom sensed her shrug of indifference was not quite what it seemed.
Adalyn pointed to where towers pinnacled into the sky and the sylphs flew, their wings catching the light. “Merlin’s house is on the edge of the city, where there are roads. For those without wings, the inner city is impossible to access.”
She was right, Tom noted uneasily, he couldn’t see a single road or staircase.
Adalyn led them down the length of the wall to where a bridge, which seemed to made of gossamer-thin glass, spanned the drop below. Crossing it, they came to a tower of smoky white glass. She led them up another spiral staircase until they reached an arched doorway.
“I’ll leave you here,” she said. “I presume you can make your own way back.” Without waiting for an answer, she went over to an archway in the wall and stepped out, expanding her wings as she dropped, before soaring not to the city walls, Tom noticed, but over them to the Sky Meadows below.
Arthur was already knocking on the door, but Tom looked at Woodsmoke. “Did you see that?”
“No, what?”
“She flew down to the Sky Meadows. I think we’re in trouble.”
Before he could explain further, the door flew open and an irate Merlin stood before them. “Why are you disturbing me?” He fell silent as he registered who they were, and then said in shock, “Arthur, I didn’t think you’d come.” He stepped forward and grabbed him tightly.
Merlin ushered them into his room, and Tom immediately noticed its resemblance to the tower in the spell. It was full of tables and books, rocks, herbs, and gemstones, and on the far side was a large messy bed. But this room was much bigger, and its walls and ceiling were made of smoky glass that dimmed the dazzling light from outside, casting strange shadows in the room.
Merlin was as Tom remembered him. His hair was long, grey and tangled, and his beard grew thick and strong, halfway down his chest. But now his expression was full of life and vigour, and he seemed none the worse for his long imprisonment and death.
He looked at Tom and Woodsmoke, his face creasing into wrinkles as he smiled. “And who are these?”
“Woodsmoke is a good friend from the Realm of Earth,” Arthur said, squeezing Woodsmoke’s shoulder. Woodsmoke nodded and shook Merlin’s hand, and Tom felt relieved that his anger with Arthur seemed long forgotten.
Then Arthur turned to Tom. “And Tom is a long-distance descendant of mine. He woke me from my long sleep. I’m sure you remember that bargain, Merlin?”
Merlin’s piercing blue eyes fixed on Tom like a bird of prey. “Of course I remember.”
Tom almost stuttered as he said hello.
“It seems Tom has a knack for breaking long sleeps,” Arthur added. “He helped break Nimue’s spell, too.”
“I really didn’t,” Tom repeated, for what felt like the millionth time. “Herne broke the spell, not me.”
“But you helped! The shaman said so,” Arthur insisted.
“Herne was involved? How?” Merlin asked.
“The Cervini summoned him.”
“Herne,” Merlin repeated, “and the Cervini. Names I have not heard in a long time. The Cervini were there when Nimue’s spell was broken?”
Arthur nodded. For a few seconds, Merlin was lost in thought, then he turned to Tom. “How did you help?”
“I used your spell books, actually.” He shrugged. “I was desperate.”
“And Vivian still lives? She summoned you here to wake Arthur?”
“Sort of, in a very indirect way,” Tom said, trying not to say something mean about Vivian.
Merlin took a deep breath as if steeling himself for bad news. “And Nimue, where is she now?”
“In Dragon’s Hollow. She will not harm you further, Merlin,” Arthur reassured him.
“I do not fear Nimue – except for those few seconds when I awoke. I was so confused,” he said. “So much noise, so much light. It was too much. I cast the first spell I could think of to take me to the securest place I knew.” He gestured around him. “As for Nimue, everything she did, I let her do. Even while I was teaching her the spell, I knew she would turn it against me. I almost welcomed it.” His eyes lost their intensity for a moment as he stared back into the past.
“Do you remember it all? The imprisonment, I mean?” Tom asked.
“It was like a beautiful dream,” Merlin said softly.
“Come,” Arthur insisted, “I want to hear about everything that’s happened.”
They sat before the fireplace, and while they talked Tom drifted over to the smoked glass walls, peering through to the city beyond. Of all the places he’d been so far, this felt the most alien. The sylphs were very different to the other fey, both in appearance and demeanour. Their appearance at the Cauldron had been swift, aggressive and unnerving, and they had seemed so pale they shimmered. Now he was here he had a feeling they shouldn’t have come.
Woodsmoke joined him. “Why do you think we’re in trouble, Tom?”
“Arthur killed Raghnall,” Tom said quietly. “What if this breaks some sort of deal they had with him? You said it yourself, they are a warrior race. Warriors need weapons. What better place to get them than from the Hollow?”
Woodsmoke looked thoughtful. “Didn’t Raghnall say the meeting he was going to was something to do with trade agreements with the sylphs? Trade with them would be very lucrative, even if the sylphs got their weapons for better prices than everyone else.”
“If the city falls, the sylphs’ main source of weapons will be gone,” Tom said, his worry doubling. “They’ll be very angry.”
“But now Nimue is the key to protecting the city, and Arthur is surely protected by Merlin.”
They talked quietly for a while, discussing the possibilities, and then Merlin called them over. “Come, you must join us.”
Merlin had placed food and drink on the table in front of the fire, and Tom realised he hadn’t eaten for hours.
“If you’re sure we aren’t interrupting you,” Tom said, lowering himself into a chair and reaching for a glass.
They talked for hours, Merlin asking them all sorts of questions about the other realms and the other Earth. It was obvious that Arthur and Merlin had real affection for each other, and for a time, Tom’s worry disappeared. They were finally interrupted when long shadows flashed across the room, and the door flew open.
Adalyn stepped into the room with three sylphs behind her, and glared at Arthur, Tom and Woodsmoke.
Merlin stood. “What’s going on, Adalyn?”
“Arthur and Woodsmoke, you are under arrest for the murder of Raghnall, Sorcerer of Dragon’s Hollow. Tom, you are arrested for the death of Grindan, Raghnall’s servant.”
Tom and Woodsmoke sat momentarily stunned, while Arthur leapt to his feet and unsheathed Excalibur. But Merlin stepped in front of him, his face thunderous. “How dare you arrest Arthur! And here, in my home!”
Adalyn advanced, her face rigid with anger. “Raghnall is dead, Merlin. Killed by Arthur.”
Arthur squared up to her. “Because he was trying to kill all of us! For this,” he said, brandishing Excalibur. “Do you think I would stand there and let him?”
Adalyn briefly looked at Excalibur, then said icily, “And Nimue stands in his place to protect the city! It seems you have divided loyalties, Arthur. She is currently under guard while she completes the spell, and then she will come here to answer to us. In the meantime you will be locked away until the trial.”
