Legendary (The Legendary Saga)

  Cover

  Title Page

  Legendary

  Book One of the Legendary Saga

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  LH Nicole

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  Omnific Publishing

  Los Angeles

  Copyright Information

  Legendary, Copyright © 2014 by LH Nicole

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  Omnific Publishing

  1901 Avenue of the Stars, 2nd Floor

  Los Angeles, California 90067

  www.omnificpublishing.com

  ...

  First Omnific eBook edition, February 2014

  First Omnific trade paperback edition, February 2014

  ...

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

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  Nicole, LH.

  Legendary / LH Nicole – 1st ed

  ISBN: 978-1-623421-04-5

  1. Fantasy—Fiction. 2. Fantasy— Arthurian. 3. Young Adult—Fiction. 4. Romance—Fiction. I. Title

  ...

  Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw

  Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

  Dedication

  This book is for everyone who loves a good tale

  of bravery, loyalty, and love.

  And it is for the Lady Knights of my Round Table

  who have supported me so much, in every way,

  since I began this project.

  I love you all.

  Prologue

  BLEEDING, BRUISED, AND ALL BUT DEAD, Merlin stepped from a swirling portal into the magical realm of Avalon. Behind him, his brother knights and friends, Sir Galahad and Sir Lancelot, carried a dying King Arthur between them.

  “Lady Titania, queen of the Fae and ruler of Avalon, I beg your help,” Merlin cried out. “All the realms stand in mortal danger, and we have no hope of victory without you.”

  The men stood silent as Merlin’s voice reverberated through the valley. Wind rushed around them, sending leaves and fallen petals aloft in front of the knights.

  A beautiful, regal woman appeared in the churning greenery. “I have heard your call, my dear Merlin.”

  With a pop, the wind died, dropping the foliage to the ground at the queen’s feet. Her copper hair fell in long curls, framing a face which looked as soft as flower petals, though Merlin knew there was nothing soft about her. The Fae queen was unpredictable and dangerous when tested. She stood as tall as the knights, her body a perfect hourglass shape with the top half covered by a tight, shimmering gold bodice. Her skirt hung from her hips and flared loosely around bare feet, which were decorated with Fae jewels and silver anklets.

  Still supporting King Arthur and suffering from their own painful wounds, the knights bowed to the queen of Avalon. Merlin dropped to one knee before her. “My lady, I have trapped Mordrid in a void between the realms, but I cannot kill him. Only someone of the Pendragon line can wield Excalibur and end his evil for good, but Arthur is the last of that bloodline.” Merlin looked up at the queen, trying to contain his rage. “If Mordrid is allowed to continue unchecked, he will soon break free of his prison and destroy our realms.”

  Titania studied him for what felt like an endless moment. Her cold, glittering emerald eyes betrayed no emotion, but Merlin knew she understood all that was at stake. Glancing back at King Arthur, she saw the wounds in his side, the blood pooling at his feet as he slowly bled to death. Arthur’s loyal knights did not fare much better—their jaws were clenched tightly against their pain and their bodies shook as the power of Avalon flowed over their wounds.

  “And what would you have me do, Druid? Did not my lord give you an army to fight alongside you?”

  “Yes, my lady.” Sir Galahad spoke for the first time, his voice labored and thin as he held back a groan of agony. “But Mordrid’s treachery knows no bounds. He delayed the arrival of the army long enough to drive his magic blade into our king.” The knight’s voice cracked, his eyes cast downward in shame.

  Titania scoffed at the knight. “But your king is a great strategist. Surely, he would have planned for such an event.”

  Sir Lancelot answered before the others could. “It does not matter how it happened! Mordrid is still a threat to everything all of us love, including your realms.”

  “Please, my lady,” Merlin begged. “Save Arthur. My magic is all but exhausted and I no longer have the strength to save him.” He rose, meeting her calculating gaze.

  Titania glided forward, stopping before King Arthur. She placed a long, elegant finger beneath his chin and lifted his face to hers.

  Arthur’s vision was so blurred that he could barely make out the figure in front of him. A cool breeze washed over his face, clearing his vision and causing the pain that had been gripping his body to vanish.

  “Arthur Pendragon.” The Fae queen addressed him in a silky voice.

  Arthur peered into eyes of the deepest green.

  “Do you want to live, Arthur Pendragon? To save the realms, to regain your life and find your happiness, will you do what is asked of you? If I save you, will you rise up and do what must be done to stop Mordrid and his evil?”

  Arthur’s intense gaze did not waver. “Yes, my lady. I swear on my life I will not rest until Mordrid’s dead body lies at my feet.” He would do anything to avenge his kingdom and his fallen brothers.

  Titania ran her fingers over Arthur’s cheek, gazing at him with a look akin to pleasure. “I have always had a fondness for you, dear king.” She stepped away and gave her attention to Arthur’s company. “Your king has given his word. Are the three of you willing to do the same?”

  “Yes, my lady. You have our oath,” they said together, their faces shining with pride and determination.

  Queen Titania smiled, triumphant. “Prepare yourselves.”

  The Fae queen threw her arms above her head, and the valley was consumed with the potency of her magic. Galahad and Lancelot covered their eyes against the force, curling their bodies to shield their king. Merlin held himself still—he could not show any more weakness to Queen Titania.

  When the magic subsided, they found themselves in a chamber hidden deep in the mountains of Avalon. In the center of the chamber was a stone bed, lit from above by a small opening in the mountain’s wall.

  “Do you have the Grail of Power?” Titania asked Merlin.

  Arthur’s Druid reached under his cloak and pulled the coveted Grail free, handing it to her.

  “Lay Arthur on the stone,” she commanded. Lancelot and Galahad carefully placed their king on the stone bed, stepping back as the Fae queen lowered the cup to catch several drops of Arthur’s blood. “Each of you must add your own blood to the Grail.”

  Lancelot exchanged a guarded look with his friends. Galahad nodded to his brother-in-arms, pulling a dagger from his belt. The knight slashed a new wound in his palm, squeezing a few drops of blood into the golden, jeweled cup. Taking the dagger, Lancelot cut a matching wound, adding his blood, which was followed by Merlin’s. Facing Titania, the three men wore expressions of determination and hope, along with ones of guilt and regret.

  Titania pricked her finger, adding a drop of her own enchanted blood, and whispered ancient, binding words. She then tilted the Grail over her open palm. The blood poured out, transforming before their eye
s into a glittering ruby.

  As Merlin studied his king and friend lying helpless and as pale as moonlight, guilt choked him. His fellow knights felt the same sense of failure. If they had foreseen Mordrid’s curse, their king would not have been on the verge of death and they would not have had to retreat to Avalon.

  As they looked down at Arthur, the ruby rose from Titania’s palm and hovered above the king.

  “Arthur Pendragon, you are the once and future king. I command you to sleep until the one who is destined to awaken you seeks you out and calls for your aid.”

  The blood ruby consumed Arthur’s consciousness, slowly darkening everything in the king’s sight. He wanted to reassure his loyal knights and friends, but all he could see and feel and hear was Queen Titania. Her mighty emerald eyes demanded his acceptance, and he found he could not fight her power. The ruby returned to Titania’s hand as she stepped away from the shrine.

  Galahad and Lancelot relaxed as Titania moved away from their king, but the calm did not last long.

  The queen fixed her gaze on them. “I have done what you asked and saved your king’s life, but now you three must accept the cost. Never again may you reenter the mortal world without Arthur by your side. Your lives are now bound to his, and you will only be freed after his quest is complete.” Titania’s commanding voice was as hard as diamonds as she examined the knights. Sir Galahad was drowning in his guilt; Sir Lancelot was struggling to balance his desire to defend his king with his wish to rejoin his wife. Merlin’s eyes were downcast, his fists white from tension, his shoulders shaking as he tried to rein in his anger at the woman who had betrayed them—the witch, Morgana LeFay.

  “I warn you now, break your vows to me, to your king, fail in the tasks set before you, and you will pay a dire price.”

  “We will not falter,” Sir Galahad swore.

  “See that you do not.” Titania smiled, calling on her magic to hide her from the knights’ view.

  “My queen, what have you done now?” Titania’s husband, Oberon, king of Avalon, materialized at her side, visible only to her eyes.

  Tempering her voice, the Fae queen answered, “I could not stand by and let Mordrid go unchallenged, my lord.” If her plan was to flourish, it would take centuries, but Oberon could not know her intentions. Her husband was a master deceiver, the only one to ever challenge her own skills of deceit.

  He stepped in front of Titania. “You know my laws. Directly interfering with mortal affairs is forbidden,” he thundered.

  “Yet you gave them an army, my husband.” Her eyebrow rose, almost mocking her king.

  “I am king of Avalon. It is for me alone to decide if or how we influence the mortal realm.”

  Titania bowed low. “My apologies, my king,” she said, her voice honey-smooth and placating.

  “You know the laws of Avalon and the consequences of your actions. You are no exception to them.”

  Indeed, she did know what her punishment would be for her interference, but it was a small price to pay for what it would accomplish. She would be banished to the mortal realm until Oberon saw fit for her to return. There would be much work for her to do during her banishment.

  Queen Titania rose to her full height, her chin held high, and met her husband’s unwavering gaze. “Indeed, my lord.” She turned from him and looked at the knights. “But you must agree that their story—and what is to come—will make a tale worthy of legend.”

  King Oberon studied his queen silently before vanishing from the cave.

  “So it begins.” The queen departed for the mortal realm, a cunning smirk on her lips, satisfaction bright on her face.

  1

  It has weakened! For the first time in centuries I can feel the barrier thinning. She must be there—my escape—my queen. I am so close to having my revenge! I can feel her. Her strength is unbelievable, a siren’s call. Her emerald eyes have haunted me since the first time I saw her. She will be mine! My Destined One!

  ~Mordrid

  ALIANA FAGAN’S EYES SNAPPED OPEN the instant the voices stopped. “Not again,” she moaned, pushing up onto her elbow to look at her bedside clock only to see that it wasn’t even five in the morning yet. “Why can I never sleep past dumb o’clock in the morning?” the eighteen-year-old asked her empty room, turning to glance out her bedroom window.

  This was the third night in a row that this strange dream had plagued her. Then again, compared to the tragic, fiery nightmare that had haunted her for the past two years, this new one was like a fairy tale.

  She’d dreamed that she had been in a thick forest, wandering on an unfamiliar path, being pulled toward something she didn’t understand. The path had led to a huge, beautiful lake and a hidden cave covered with hanging vines and small white flowers. A woman’s beguiling voice, mingled with deeper, pain-ridden voices, called to her. Beseeching her to come to them, begging for her help.

  Knowing she wasn’t going to get any more sleep, Aliana threw off her comforter and padded down the hall of her family’s London flat where she now lived, and started up her father’s old computer. Her current home had been in her family—or rather her adoptive family—for three generations. Her eyes fell on the framed picture by the computer. It was an old photo of her with her parents at the beach behind their house in South Carolina.

  She looked away from the happy photo and pulled up her father’s digital files about Avalon and his studies into the King Arthur mythoi. She couldn’t explain why, but each time she woke from the new dream, her first thoughts went to the legendary story.

  Aliana’s father—adoptive father, she reminded herself—had been a renowned anthropologist and, for the last decade of his life, a well-respected history professor. His life’s mission had been to uncover the truth of King Arthur and Camelot, as well as Avalon’s possible roots in the real world.

  The hidden cave from her dream invaded her thoughts again. What was beyond that wall of ivy and flowers? If it was real, like a small voice in her head insisted that it was, maybe she was close to finding Avalon! Just the thought sent excitement racing through her body. Uncovering the truth behind Avalon was a dream and passion she had shared with her father all of her life.

  Even though the wound from her parents concealment of her adoption was a constant ache, she couldn’t deny that they had loved her just as much as they had loved each other. Growing up surrounded by that love had made dating difficult, because she would always compare what she had with the boys she dated to what her parents had with each other. And after the last guy she had cared for had left her heartbroken after nearly raping her, she’d made a promise: she wouldn’t let another guy get so close to her again unless she felt the same love from and for him that her parents had for each other.

  But having someone love you won’t stop them from lying to you, she thought bitterly. She shoved her resentment aside to focus on figuring out the dream, and started a search for wooded areas and forests that would correlate with her father’s studies. If the dream was reality—the woods, the lake, the cave—then the answer might be in this research.

  Aliana poured over the files, her excitement and passion for the legends flaring bright again. Her father had tons of files and research about King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, the Druid Merlin, and the evil Morgana and Mordrid. But her father was the only one who spelled it like that though—Mordrid. When she had asked about it, he’d shown her a copy of an aged parchment he and his old mentor had discovered in the eighties. The battered scrap referenced Arthur and Mordrid, and next to the villain’s name had been an ancient symbol many believed represented wizard or sorcerer. Her papa may not be around to finish his work, but maybe she could do it for both of them. It was seven o’clock by the time she’d made a solid plan, showered, and changed.

  Her eyes dropped to the phone lying on her dresser as its alarm went off. It was her reminder about lunch with Wade Edrick and Owen Nyhart, her best friend and newfound cousin, respectively.

  “Son
of a biscuit!” She couldn’t meet with them today. She needed to follow through with her plan. The need to search for the lake, and the hidden cave, and those strange voices was a compulsion she couldn’t ignore.

  Knowing her cousin would already be awake for his daily swim, Aliana called him to cancel.

  “Well, isn’t this a fantastic surprise,” Owen said. “Now what reason could my absolutely smashing cousin have for calling me this early in the morning?”

  Aliana laughed at Owen’s exaggerated British charm. “Morning to you too! Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

  Owen groaned. “Blimey, in the month and a half since we met, you’ve said those exact words to me three times, and they always precede you canceling our engagements.”

  Aliana sighed. “I’m sorry.” She had meant to tell him about her dream and what she was going to search for. He knew about her love of Camelot and her slight obsession with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. But maybe it was a good thing he had interrupted her—if she’d told him she was going exploring in a heavily wooded area by herself because of a dream, he’d call her totally potty and make sure she was locked away.

  Heck, she was ready to lock herself away, but she couldn’t fight the overwhelming desire to try to find those voices and that hidden cave.

  “I got a call from a magazine and they want me to get some pictures of the English countryside.” Aliana chewed her lip, a nervous habit of hers. She didn’t like lying to Owen.

  They had only known each other for six weeks, but the bond they had forged seemed to stretch back much longer than that. Like her, Owen had no family left. Aliana had come to London over a month ago to find her real mother, but had found him instead. Since then, they had been nearly inseparable. He had even told her several nights ago that he had always felt like he’d been missing a part of himself and that since her arrival, she’d helped to fill that gap. He also shared her enthusiasm for Arthurian legend and she often thought that he’d have made an amazing Knight of the Round Table if he had lived in Camelot.