Page 52 of Awakening

Having sat long enough, Trystan stood and slowly wandered a few steps away. Staring out into the darkening sky, he crossed his arms over his chest. Something about Emrys was bothering him. Emrys was still hiding something. He could feel it. After everything else he’d revealed, Trystan wondered why he still held back.

Trystan turned around and found both men watching him. Why did he feel torn between them? If Marc was his cymara, he shouldn’t be drawn to Emrys at all, but his heart reached for both. He shook the thought from his head. They had more important issues to consider.

“Does Morgaine know of the prophecy?” Trystan asked.

“I do not know, but we should assume that she does,” Emrys answered. He looked at Trystan with soulful eyes. His tone gentled. “Trystan? Is Lundain still our destination?”

Trystan turned and looked across the land. Uncertainty clouded his thoughts. He shook his head slightly. He turned and paced, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t know. Something keeps changing.”

Emrys gave Marc a sideways glance and pushed to his feet, sauntering toward Trystan. “What do you mean?”

Marc joined them.

“The path. It’s… almost as if it is moving. Changing course.” Closing his eyes, Trystan sighed. “What felt right earlier no longer does.”

“But you cannot see the new path?”

“No.”

“Then we follow the original plan and make for Lundain. You were right in that we will need the Regent King’s armies.”

Trystan hesitated, his mouth scrunched and twisted as he regarded Emrys. “I suppose you’re right.”

Emrys gave him an empathetic smile. “You’ll understand your gift in time, Trystan.”

Trystan nodded, and as the three of them rode out across the darkening countryside, he couldn’t help but think he was overlooking something vital to defeating Morgaine. The feeling gnawed at his insides, a veritable truth hiding in the dark breaches of his mind.

The blood of Arthur.

The words drifted on the wind like a whisper. An image flickered before his eyes. A monument of colossal stones arranged in a circle. Stonehenge.

“It’s not a person,” Trystan muttered. His horse altered its course slightly to the north, increasing its speed as it raced toward a new destination.

The sound of pounding hooves tapered. Emrys glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Trystan pulling away. Marc saw it too, and they both adjusted to chase after him.

“Trystan!” Emrys yelled. He glanced to Marc riding by his side. “We mustn’t lose him.”

“We won’t.”

Trystan knew he was outpacing Emrys and Marc, but the growing sense of urgency pushed him onward. The fact that the horse somehow sensed his need didn’t escape him, but instead of dwelling on its impossibility, he put it to the back of his mind. Something awaited them among the ancient ritual stones, and the mystical qualities Stonehenge was said to possess seemed right, given the circumstances.

The fine mist in the air thickened into fog as he rode on. The sound of hoofs beating the ground still followed behind him, though not as loudly as before. The enveloping fog didn’t slow him down. The horse seemed to know exactly where to go, never once hesitating, as if it could see clearly.

The Wynford slid to a halt just outside the circle of stones. Trystan nudged the stallion forward, but the beast held its ground, refusing to pass between the stones. He kicked it harder, but the stubborn horse whinnied, shaking its head erratically, and backed away from the ruins.

“All right. Settle down.” Trystan rubbed the horse’s neck. As he dismounted, Marc and Emrys rode up. They climbed down from their Wynfords and approached Trystan.

“Stonehenge?” Marc asked, his eyes fixed on the dense fog beyond the stones.

Emrys watched Trystan approach the towering rocks. Trystan paused, staring into the dark, obscured space encircled by the ancient stones. “It’s not a person.”

“You saw something, didn’t you?” Emrys said.

Trystan nodded. “The prophecy said the blood of Arthur must unite. There’s something here we need in order to do that. Only, I don’t know exactly what it is. I only know it’s in there.”

“Trystan, this place… there is a dark magic here. Are you certain?”

His gaze vacant, Trystan didn’t respond. He’d thought this was right, but now he doubted himself. What if this was another mind trick like the one that led him to the lake? The horse clearly sensed the evil within, having refused to pass between the stones, and he trusted Emrys’ assessment that there was dark magic here.