The Solstice Bride Read online

  About The Solstice Bride

  It’s been twenty years after the Healing that restored Britain following a nuclear attack, but things are not as they should be.

  The dark priestess Morgaine has taken over the queen’s body, humiliated the king, and defeated his closest advisor and ally. She’s now the undisputed authoritarian leader of a dystopian nation.

  Falke Drunemeton has been in exile, biding his time, and studying the wisdom of the Goddessians. In a desperate mission to restore the rightful ruler, he must convince Morgaine’s daughter, Princess Ravenna, to travel back in time with him to stop her.

  As the depravity of Morgaine’s plans unfold, Falke finds himself falling in love with Ravenna.

  But victory over the monstrous usurper means changing the nation’s fate – along with his own. Will he be able to convince Ravenna to destroy her own mother? And if she does, will he ever forgive himself?

  The Solstice Bride is the second book in the Heirs to Camelot series, a dark adventure tale and bittersweet love story.

  Praise for The Midsummer Wife

  (Book One of THE HEIRS TO CAMELOT series)

  “Sex, magic, and power collide in this [Urban] Fantasy that begins when a devastating terrorist attack on modern London sparks the long-foretold return of King Arthur to heal Britain. Simonds boldly continues the Arthurian saga into the present day, as heirs to Arthur, Merlin, and the woman both men once loved struggle to understand and fulfill their destinies and outwit the sinister agenda of the sorceress Morgaine.” ~ Lisa Jensen, author Alias Hook and Beast: A Love Story

  “Imaginative, mesmerizing, and emotionally complex, Simonds’ unique story boldly expands the Arthurian legend into exciting new territory. The fantastical elements—rituals from old Celtic religions, dark magic, forces of fate—are well drawn and skillfully integrated into a contemporary setting. And then there’s the romance… the palpable chemistry between Ava and Ron (the Arthur heir), complicated by their respective destinies, makes their relationship a riveting read.” ~ Mary Fan, author of Starswept, Artificial Absolutes

  THE SOLSTICE BRIDE

  Book Two of THE HEIRS TO CAMELOT series

  by Jacqueline Church Simonds

  Strange Fictions Press

  Dedication

  For Donna Mineo

  Bright fire,

  Fierce spirit,

  Gone too soon

  Chapter One

  18 June 2049

  Seven Days to Midsummer

  Ravenna

  Go dark.

  Ravenna walked through the circle of standing stones in the Healing Circle, the heavy scent of crushed roses and snuffed-out torches still hanging in the night air. The Goddess Temple ceremony honoring the Rose Moon ended hours ago, but she’d felt compelled to return to the sacred circle instead of going back to her room and meditating as she should. Headmistress Helena would scold her for this waywardness and unfocused behavior tomorrow. But that was tomorrow. Besides, Ravenna knew the headmistress hesitated to correct her, even though the queen had given her permission to “Punish the girl as needed—and she will need it!” Ravenna got away with much at the Temple that others did not. She knew she should feel guilty about that, but increasingly, it no longer mattered to her. None of it mattered.

  Ravenna leaned against the largest sarsen. During the ceremony, they struck that stone and two other megaliths with wood batons. The giant rocks emitted a deep gonging sound, like great earthy bells. It was funny, but the sarsen she was resting against still seemed to echo that resonance. She felt a tingling along her back where she touched it.

  Daily, Ravenna sought out places to be alone, if only for a few minutes. Isolation and despair increasingly colored her thoughts. Being surrounded by the false cheerfulness of the Temple was beginning to feel like sickly-sweet poison to her soul. Perhaps it was because, at twenty, she was the oldest initiate who’d not been granted full priestess status. Or maybe it was the omnipresent sense that the world was not the way it should be, and she felt helpless to change it.

  The pleasant sensation of the ringing megalith was interrupted by an abrupt realization. Someone is watching me. Just over there, back by the rowans.

  For the first time in twelve years, she felt afraid within the Healing Circle.

  Slowly, a man stepped out from behind the heel stone. He was about her height, with sandy hair. He had the most remarkable aura: a brilliant violet and sky blue with sparks of white. There was something about his face that felt familiar. He stretched his arms out to the side, obviously trying to show he meant no harm. Did he know Ravenna had an alarm button hidden in her commbracelet? “Hello,” he said. “Are you Ravenna?”

  She pressed back into the sarsen, as if it could defend her. “How do you know who I am?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said, “and I would very much like to tell it to you. But here isn’t safe.”

  “The Healing Circle not safe?” Ravenna asked. “What could harm you here?”

  “Your Temple Guardians, for starters,” he said.

  Ravenna observed his aura again. She was fairly sure no one with a life-glow that remarkable could be dangerous. But as she was constantly told, she knew little of the world. She was caught between doing the sensible thing and wanting to find out more.

  “I mean you no ill,” he said.

  Ravenna could feel him projecting calm confidence at her and mentally batted away the weak spell. That all you got? But she said: “You could mean to hurt me and just be able to hide it.”

  “As with anything, you must trust your inner self to guide you in this.”

  Ravenna dipped her head to the side, a gesture meant to convey he’d made a nice point.

  He rewarded her with the warmest smile, and it was as if the sun had come out on a cold and cloudless day. Ravenna’s heart felt like it was melting. That’s odd. “And so, my inmost self says to trust you—with reservations.”

  “A wise woman,” he said, still smiling.

  She felt an answering smile forming on her lips. “No. A wise woman would summon the Guardians and have you taken off. But I’m told I’m neither wise nor sensible.”

  “The queen underestimates you in many things,” he said.

  It was as if he’d thrown a spider on the ground. “You know the queen?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” the man replied. “I can feel our time here growing short. Is there someplace you can hide me? Then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  Amazing aura, kind of nice, rather cute, makes me feel good … but knows the queen. Not a good combination. I really should call the Guardians, or leave, or something. What is it about him? She felt something inside, nudging her, telling her to take a chance. “Come this way.”

  Ravenna led him down a narrow path to the south of the circle. There was a tall fence protecting the holy site, but she peeled back a section of metal and stepped through to the other side, motioning for him to follow. They approached the back of a darkened building. She went to one of the windows and gently jiggled the security screen until it came away in her hand. Putting it to the side, she indicated he should go in first. He shoved open the window and pulled himself up and into the building.

  Ravenna climbed over the sill, then shut the window. “Several of my novitiate-sisters and I use this as a get-away from our minders.” She turned the window to opaque and switched on the light. They were surrounded by the sort of boxes and crates one usually finds in a storeroom.

  She looked him over, head to toe. He’s older than I am, but I like older men. Nice gray-blue eyes. Why does his face look familiar to me?

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “This is the Goddess Temple and Healing Interpre
tive Center,” Ravenna said. “How could you not know that?”

  “I’ve been away a long, long time.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Falke Drunemeton,” he said in a quiet voice.

  The name sent shockwaves down Ravenna’s spine.

  “That’s right, Ravenna. I’m your brother. Half-brother, actually.”

  “They said you were dead,” Ravenna said, then realized she was whispering. Her heart was pounding so!

  “I expect the queen told you that, yes,” Falke said.

  “If she found you here …!” An immediate image of those angry green basilisk eyes sprang into Ravenna’s mind.

  As if in answer, Falke’s empty belly emitted a loud growl.

  It was the last thing Ravenna expected, and it made her giggle.

  He put up his hand woozily. “Is there something to eat here? Maybe something to drink as well?”

  Ravenna recalled spotting a food dispenser in the employee break room. “Come on.” She took him down the hall, and they came out right in front of the main display of the memorial to the Healing. Twenty-one years ago, Queen Ava had summoned the power of Avalon and cured the country of the nuclear wasteland it had become. People still came to stand in awe of that moment.

  Falke stopped and stared. “That’s not how it was at all,” he muttered. He stepped a little closer to peer at the scene, a hologram with a short running cycle of perhaps two minutes.

  “What do you mean? That’s what the historical record shows,” Ravenna said.

  Falke chuckled. “I bet.”

  The hologram showed Queen Ava hanging over the center of a ring of ancient monoliths, resplendent in a red robe, with her silver wings arcing wide over the ground. A heavenly light shone down on the future queen’s head, and rose petals fell from a star-filled sky; a bright full moon stood just off its apex. The king-to-be genuflected at her feet. Eight priestesses in yellow robes danced and sang Ava’s praise. The top of the hill was surrounded with an adoring, cheering crowd numbering in the thousands.

  “Absolute rubbish,” Falke said.

  Ravenna could feel his reaction—a complex mix of revulsion and … admiration? “Are you saying that didn’t happen?” she demanded.

  “Oh, it happened. Just not this way,” Falke said.

  “I’ve seen the recording taken at the time!” Ravenna said.

  “Those are faked, too,” Falke said.

  “That’s a lie! What a strange and monstrous thing to say,” Ravenna exclaimed.

  He shook his head, then staggered back. “You were going to help me get some food, I think.”

  I don’t care who he is! How dare he say the historical record is fake … But I know the queen is a liar, so maybe he knows something I don’t? Ravenna felt torn between anger and a weird sort of trust. Did the queen put him up to this as some sort of test?

  Ravenna went to the staff entrance on the other side, her mind in a whirl. Falke followed closely, as if afraid she would abandon him there. And I really should leave him or call the Guardians. There’s something about him … a feeling, as if I have to be with him, hear him out. But if the queen found out!

  Somewhat reluctantly, she took him to the breakroom. The food dispenser offered tea with and without milk, and those awful thin biscuits. His hands shook as he drank the tea thirstily. Then he ate a whole stack of the nasty cookies.

  “Are they good?” Ravenna asked, curious.

  “Terrible,” he said, laughing a little. “But I’m starved. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I was afraid of being spotted or tracked.”

  Ravenna grabbed an antiseptic cloth out of the dispenser and wiped up the crumbs he was making, along with attempting to clean the filmy tabletop. Don’t these people ever wash up behind themselves? “They said you left when I was just a year old. Where have you been for nineteen years?”

  Falke sank into a metal chair and tugged at a lock of hair at the top of his head. “Nearly everywhere on Earth.”

  “That’s an interesting non-answer.”

  He smiled wanly, then asked, “Why were you alone in the Healing Circle?”

  “I like to be alone, even in places where I’m not supposed to be. Only certain people are allowed to be in the sacred circle when there isn’t a ceremony. I think you’re the first man to be there,” Ravenna said.

  He shook his head. “Our father was there the day the stones were set up.”

  “What?!”

  “The old sarsen stones were hidden beneath the barn at Drunemeton House—our house—for nearly 650 years,” Falke said.

  Ravenna was afraid cracks would appear in the walls. It was as if he had just shaken the room. “The Healing Circle hasn’t been there since the beginning of time?” Ravenna searched her memory. No one had ever said the circle had always been there. I just thought, since the stones were so ancient … It was always implied ...

  “Wait. The megaliths were in place for the Healing.”

  “Nope.” Falke shook his head. “They were installed almost a year afterwards.”

  “But the hologram shows them there!”

  “That’s a lie, for whatever reason,” Falke said. “Dad had them transported to build the Healing Circle twenty years ago. That would have happened shortly after you and your brother were born. The queen, still nursing you two, supervised via a vidlink.” He looked worried. “Really. I’m telling you the truth.”

  Ravenna could feel he was afraid she would walk out. She glared at him, caught between going back to the Temple and staying in her seat. But that feeling remained … as if she really needed to listen to him. “Did you know I was going to be in the circle?”

  “The Goddess told me you would be there, at that time,” Falke said, as if it was a perfectly natural thing to say, like, “I brought an umbrella because the weatherbot said it would rain.”

  Ravenna’s limbs felt watery and trembly. She flopped into a chair, crossing her arms and legs to hide their sudden shaking. “So, why have you come back after all these years?”

  “I need your help,” Falke said.

  “To do what?” Ravenna demanded.

  “To put right what went wrong at the Healing.” Falke looked so calm and composed for someone who had just tossed a grenade into her world.

  “What are you talking about? The queen saved Britain!” Ravenna said defensively, an automatic response.

  “That depiction in there,” Falke tilted his head toward the display in the other room, “is an interesting rewrite of what actually occurred.”

  “So, the vid everyone’s watched countless times on the Net and in here is a fabrication?”

  He nodded. “It happens all the time in today’s world. Tell a lie but tell it really big. In the meantime, use bots to search out every instance of the truth that exists on the Net and swap out your version. That’s what happened in the Ukraine and Argentina.”

  “Those are dictatorships. Everyone outside of those countries knows the historical accounts are faked,” Ravenna said.

  “Exactly,” Falke replied.

  Ravenna felt an odd kind of hope; as if all of her suspicions were being crystallized. Is it possible he knows what I’ve only guessed at? “You’re saying the world thinks of Britain as a dictatorship?”

  “They think something is very wrong here. But people are willing to extend a magical queen some slack,” Falke said.

  “Everything here, this whole building—the Healing Day Interpretive Center—is filled with lies?” I’m not imagining things. Other people see this, too.

  “What do you think happened?” Falke asked.

  Ravenna was about to tell him what she’d been taught but stopped. Is it safe to let him know I’m not buying the official story? “I’m … not sure.”

  “Well, that’s a beginning,” Falke said. “You have your doubts about the Healing. What you’ve been made to believe, versus what you may think actually occurred.”

  “I don’t know anything other than what I’ve been
told and shown. Everyone else believes it,” Ravenna said carefully.

  Falke smiled thinly. “Or they say they do. Those who don’t, disappear.”

  Ravenna said quickly, before she could stop herself, “I had a teacher who once told me in private that she recalled events differently than we were being taught. She was gone the next day.”

  “That happens a lot in Britain these days.” Falke leaned forward. “I’m sure the teacher wasn’t the first you heard a different version from. Given that, you may have reached your own conclusions.”

  Others know something is wrong. I’m not the only one. It was a heady feeling.

  “You know something about Queen Ava, something she doesn’t want anyone else to know,” Falke said.

  Ravenna gasped out loud. She’d worked very hard to suppress any thoughts like that. “How do you know that?”

  “You’ve no one to confide in, do you?” Falke asked.

  “Why should I trust you? We just met!”

  “You are my sister, child of my father, who I loved more than anyone in the world,” Falke said in a sorrowful voice.

  Those words, uttered with so much gentle kindness, did more than any explanation he could offer. Ravenna swallowed hard and said: “The queen isn’t Ava Cerdwen.”

  “No, she’s not. She’s Morgaine—she took over Ava’s body just before her own dissolved. And that’s why I’m here—to put a stop to her,” Falke said.

  Ravenna’s heart beat wildly. “You’re planning to kill her?”

  Falke shook his head. “No. She’s too strong now. We have to do something else.”

  In some ways, Ravenna was disappointed. “Like what?”

  “Let’s get to know each other, decide if we want to work together, before we go into the details,” Falke said.

  Ravenna sat back down. I have to know if he’s for real. She reached out to search his mind.