The Solstice Bride Read online

  “Okay. So, they made a mistake,” Ravenna whispered back, defensively.

  “On a historical recording?” Falke asked.

  “Point taken,” she grumbled.

  Falke continued: “Dad activated the Oathstone with a wand that generated the exact light frequency as found at the top of Glastonbury Tor at the Summer Solstice.”

  “What’s this Oathstone?” she asked.

  “It’s the talisman that our foremother Anya—also a priestess—forced Morgaine to swear upon that she would return when called upon to heal Britain. You do know who Morgaine is?”

  “Of course. The entire country can recite the high points in the life of the first King Arthur. Morgaine was Arthur’s half-sister, the powerful Priestess of Avalon,” Ravenna said.

  “Tell me what is said about Morgaine,” he asked.

  “That she had pledged to help the heir of King Arthur when a priestess called to her from the future.”

  Falke shook his head. “Close, but not quite.” He paused, watching the Guardians draw near for a few seconds, then fan out across from them, nearer the road.

  “What else?” Ravenna’s hand felt slick with sweat.

  He whispered, “There was a chalk depiction of the Druidic Eight-fold way on the ground, and eight poles treated with a substance that would keep all psychic power within the circle. There were also eight priests in blue robes from Eight Lights standing at each one, to guard against Morgaine and her eight priestesses—in black robes—escaping.”

  “This is all so different,” Ravenna said, sounding puzzled. “The story we hear is that then-Priestess Ava was the head of a secret group that guarded the heirs of King Arthur until The Time Foretold. She came when the future King Arthur II unsheathed Excalibur during a ceremony in the Sacred Grotto at Drunemeton House.”

  Falke grinned into the dark. “Positively diabolical! That’s a brilliant re-weaving of the facts. They’re almost correct, but not … quite.”

  The Guardians headed back toward the Healing Center.

  “What else?” Ravenna asked.

  It was clear the men were focusing their search on the back of the building, but Falke wanted to stay put a little longer to make sure they wouldn’t be spotted if they came out of hiding. He continued in a low voice, “There were no rose petals falling out of the sky. I have no idea where that came from. Maybe to hide the chalk on the ground? The king never groveled. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Dad and Ava, and defended Ava from Morgaine with Excalibur itself.”

  “Morgaine attacked them in the Healing Circle? Why?” Ravenna asked.

  Falke said, “She and Ava were ancient enemies. She also didn’t like Dad—the direct descendant of Merlin—either.”

  “Merlin the bard?”

  Falke felt shaken. Morgaine wrote Dad out of the picture completely! “Merlin was a powerful Druid-priest—what some called a wizard. He was also King Arthur’s chief advisor. Dad was Merlin in his past life.”

  “We’re taught that the Avalonian Priestess Morgaine was King Arthur’s advisor back in the Round Table days,” Ravenna said.

  “I’m sorry, that’s not the truth,” Falke said. “Morgaine was exiled to Avalon by Merlin to keep her from interfering with Arthur’s reign.”

  Ravenna fell silent, clearly disturbed by what he’d told her … or maybe just frightened.

  The Guardians were concentrating their flashlight beams on the missing fence section Falke and Ravenna had climbed through earlier. All of them were turned away from Falke’s hiding place. He helped Ravenna up and urged her silently to trot toward the nearby road.

  Just as they reached the other side of the park, Falke distinctly heard a shout in his mind:

  “Why have you come back now, Falke Drunemeton?!”

  Chapter Four

  Ravenna

  Ravenna and Falke went out through the gap in the fence and struck out toward the city. Cars and vehicles of every description buzzed so close to them, Ravenna was sure at any moment she would be hit. Screeching brakes and wild honking stretched her nerves further. With no room to walk, they edged down the lane, backs scraped by the dying bushes that lined the road, until they reached the narrow sidewalk in front of some shops. There was a human hum all around them, like a hornet’s nest just after it had been disturbed.

  Will my alarm still call the Temple Guardians from this distance? Because I’m thinking this is a terrible mistake. I want to go back to my dorm room and hide under the covers.

  The buildings were tall, functional-looking gray or silver slabs of concrete and steel. Many had no windows at all. Most had holograms dancing around the surface—ads for things like Celia’s Sweets, Bummies Hemorrhoid Wipes, Bug-Off Spray. The jingles shrieked for attention at ear-splitting levels. The colors were garish and flashed with unpleasant strobes, making her queasy.

  A giant brown eye blinked down at her. “A new look in just one hour! Come by any New Eye store,” shouted the ad. The pupil of the eye changed to an odd marigold color.

  The naked arm of a woman from one ad swept through the traffic and seemed to touch Ravenna. She emitted a little shriek.

  “Shh!” demanded Falke.

  Ravenna bit back her cry when another ad appeared to throw a roll of towels at her. The noise and fear were giving her a fierce headache.

  Horrid-smelling fumes and smoke boiled out of the ground and the buildings. Some of the stores tried to counter this with a heavy haze of perfume that made Ravenna cough and sneeze. It was almost as bad as the noxious odors.

  Cables of various thicknesses snaked overhead, as if tethering each building to another.

  The lines crisscrossed over the road. Bundles of them ran along the sides of skyscrapers. The thinner, droopier ones were flopping about in the moist breeze.

  There was filthy water and trash everywhere she looked. For a city only twenty years old, it looked as if it was about to melt into rubbish.

  “Stop staring,” Falke hissed.

  “I’ve never been into New London. We don’t leave the Temple,” Ravenna said, just above the din. “It looks nothing like the New London in the vids.” That metropolis was sleek and clean looking. “Is it like this in all cities?”

  “I have been to most of the world’s major metro areas. London’s the ugliest place I’ve ever seen in Europe,” Falke said.

  Even the people seemed repellant and cartoon-like. The strange outfits they sported—covered with animal fur of many colors matched with crazy printed fabrics—seemed almost hallucinogenic. Men and women all wore some sort of iridescent make-up that lit up pink and green and orange in certain lights. They looked like phantasms—nothing like the modern, gorgeous people she saw on the Net. Ravenna felt as if she’d stepped into one of her bad nightmares.

  “Put the hood up on your poncho. Pull it way forward,” Falke said.

  “Is this really the way people are living?” Ravenna drew up the crinkly fabric. The hood was edged with some kind of yellow faux-fur, and it stank of dust, sweat, bad breath, and alcohol. She sneezed and shuddered in revulsion.

  Falke grabbed Ravenna’s upper arm and turned her abruptly toward the window of a dress shop. She could feel his fear rise.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Policebotsquad. Right behind us,” he whispered.

  The window of the shop reflected Ravenna’s image, then started showing Ravenna images of her in various outfits the store carried. First, was a red off-the-shoulder dress with candy-pink fur lining the hem; then a peach unitard with swirls of green and umber fur in random spots; then a wild purple top with silver fur patches and a huge bow over tiger-stripe pants.

  This stuff looks ridiculous!

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the click-stamp, click-stamp of the robots walking behind them. Falke’s grip on her arm tightened. There was a crackling in the air and a surge of power from him.

  Please Goddess, let them pass us by, she prayed.

  Click-stamp, click-stamp.

  Ju
st to their left, the law enforcement machines stopped a black woman whose clothes had no fur. A light projected from one of the bots and scanned her face. The other bot quickly arrested her.

  Falke led Ravenna around the commotion. “That was close,” he said in an undertone.

  “What were you going to do?” Ravenna asked.

  “Whatever was necessary,” Falke replied.

  He released her arm, but she took his hand, desperate for a human connection, afraid all the noise and filth would drown her. There was that sparking sensation again. She wanted to think about why that was happening, but everything was going so fast, it was hard to focus.

  There was a strange metallic wall just up ahead. It was over twenty feet tall and split the city in two. Falke steered her toward the entrance. There were actual human guards holding very large guns watching people pass by.

  Ravenna struggled with a fierce urge to run away. Maybe I should let the guards know I’m being kidnapped?

  “Keep calm,” Falke whispered.

  “As if,” she squeaked.

  The guards were focused almost exclusively on those trying to get out—checking their IDs, questioning them on where they were going. As Falke and Ravenna got closer, she heard a patrolperson quizzing an elder who looked in need of a shower: “Where you going, Grampy? Who’d want to hire the likes of you?” One of the guards scanned his face with a hand-held device.

  “I’ve a job cleaning,” the old one said in an accent Ravenna associated with her professors on the CambridgeNet. “The Suliphs on Borq Avenue hired me to tidy up after a party.”

  The guard tapped his datapad. “The Suliphs are on holiday,” he snapped.

  “Yes,” agreed the elder. “To the Canaries for three weeks. I’m to clean the place top to bottom for them. They said I could stay there till I got the job done.”

  The guard glared at him. “Why would they hire a half-dead old fart like you?”

  “I’m Mr. Saliph’s uncle. He kindly hires me for odd jobs,” the elder said.

  The guard harrumphed but allowed the old one in. He eyed Falke and Ravenna.

  The fattest of the guards waddled over. “Never seen anyone take a hooker in to the Zone!”

  Falke’s grip on Ravenna’s hand tightened. “I like three-ways,” he said in a high voice, and then giggled vacuously.

  She felt a surge of power from Falke. What’s going on? But she puckered her lips, hoping to look … hooker-ish.

  The guards burst into laughter.

  The fat one whacked the side of his hand-held machine. “Damn thing’s on the fritz again, Herb!”

  “Don’t worry about it. They’re going into the Zone, not out of it,” Herb replied.

  The fat guard motioned Falke and Ravenna through.

  “Ever been here before?” Falke whispered.

  “No. I didn’t even know it existed,” Ravenna said.

  “Prepare yourself for poverty the likes of which you have never imagined,” Falke said in an undertone as they started in. He pulled her through the gateway, stripping off the fur patches on his jacket as he went.

  Ravenna started to ask him what he was doing when she realized what her eyes were showing her. There had been no pictures of this part of the city on the Net. She was sure she would have remembered something this awful, this horrific. As far as Ravenna could see, there were hovels and packing crates and old shipping containers being used as housing. The stench of open sewer was overpowering. Unwashed people in shabby clothing shambled along muddy trails, never looking up, backs bowed, shoulders hunched. The lack of hope was a miasma that floated at eye-level, casting a gray pall upon the scene. “Goddess! How is this even possible?”

  “It has the tacit approval of everyone who lives in London,” Falke said, leading her down a narrow alley.

  “Nonsense. I’m sure if people understood how bad things are…” She stopped, stunned to silence. Hundreds of people were sitting or lying on the ground staring into space. She knew why they were doing it but was staggered by the sheer numbers. There had been spates of initiates who looked like that when someone smuggled the virtual reality drug wo’onra into the Temple. But it seemed as if almost half of the inhabitants of the Exclusion Zone were hooked on it. The queen knows about this? How can that be?

  “It’s just down here,” Falke said, turning down an even narrower, dark passage.

  “What is?” Ravenna was starting to freak out. It was all so dirty and awful and achingly hopeless. It couldn’t be real. How could this happen? She felt the grime on her skin, in her hair, and seeping into her lungs. She wanted to dash back to the Temple and take a long steam bath. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of the filth.

  “This is the compound where I’ve been staying. I can’t say more out in the open.” He went down a line of planks over a quagmire of mud. Ravenna started to hyperventilate as she stepped quickly over the slippery wood, afraid she would fall and end up wallowing around in the muck like the others.

  They emerged in a wider, drier place. There were few lights there, and the moon illuminated some of the area. Ravenna could just make out several metal shipping containers stacked two-high together in a U-shape. She heard a metallic click. More of those policebots?

  “Who’s that, then?” A raspy voice demanded. There was an antique weapon pointed at them.

  “It’s me, Bogart,” Falke said.

  “Thought you’d cleared out.” He was an ugly, short, bow-legged man. Despite his truculence, his aura was a bright orange. Ravenna felt both reassured by the man’s life-glow and frightened by his behavior.

  “No. I’ve been visiting with this lady, which Tami knows about,” Falke said patiently.

  “Visitin’ with her someplace else is fine. Bringin’ her here ain’t,” the man said.

  “It wasn’t something I planned, Bogart—” Falke began.

  “What’s all this?” Someone ran at them, and Ravenna was confronted by a tall, thin person with digital camouflage tattooed on their face. The eyes were completely silver. A shock of short white hair spiked with bare wires stood straight up. Studs and piercings covered nose, lips, and eyebrows. The person’s aura was a fierce orange and red; their psychic power felt like a physical blow.

  “Andi, I—” Falke started.

  “You brought her here? Here? Are you barking fucking mad?” Andi demanded.

  Ravenna gasped involuntarily. No one cursed like at the Temple! And certainly no one behaved this violently toward another.

  “Yes, I did. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to talk to Tami about this. You can join us if you like,” Falke said.

  “Tami’s too sick. Leave her right out of this,” Andi demanded, then looked Ravenna up and down. “Could you have dressed a bit less conspicuously?”

  “It’s better than her priestess robes,” Falke answered for Ravenna. “The Goddess directly intervened. I must be allowed to speak to Tami about this.”

  Andi’s spiked hair seemed to express exasperation, but she muttered, “All right.” Andi gave a hand signal to the gun-wielding man and stalked off toward the shipping containers.

  Ravenna whispered to Falke, “You aren’t really welcome here at all, are you?”

  He shrugged and followed Andi, leaving Ravenna to keep up on her own.

  Andi climbed a ladder up the side of a shipping container. Falke indicated Ravenna should go next. At the top were all sorts of pots and boxes with plants in them—what was growing, she couldn’t tell in the dark. There was a tattered awning over the entrance to the shipping container.

  The heavy cover over the doorway was pushed back, and an older Caucasian woman with long white hair and a bent back stood at the entrance. “Goddess! I was wondering if I would get to meet you.” The speaker had a deep violet aura, but there was gray and black seeping out one side, as if she was leaking spirituality.

  “Tami, he insisted on bothering you,” Andi started.

  “I’m delighted he brought this particular visitor,”
Tami said. “Come in.”

  Falke placed his hand on Ravenna’s back—a sparking sensation—and indicated she should follow the elder inside. He was smiling a little.

  He knew this would be the reception I’d get, and that this Andi person would give him trouble. Interesting.

  Ravenna went inside. It was a humble place but not uncomfortable. There were two well-worn armchairs, a battery-powered light, a kerosene stove, and a bed—or rather a mattress on the floor. On the walls were beautiful art quilts of the seasons. Tami indicated Ravenna should take a seat in the far chair, then poured tea at the hob. “Can’t offer you much, just what I have.”

  Andi took the tea things from Tami and gently made her sit down. She served Tami first, then Ravenna, and waved at Falke that he could help himself. He barely lifted his fingers, indicating he was fine … and Andi’s studied slight of him was ruined. Ravenna almost laughed out loud at their by-play.

  From the bitter smell, Ravenna could tell it was an ersatz tea. But it seemed a shame to reject it after that little dumb show, so she took a sip. It tasted a bit like boiled tree bark; however, it was hot, and she was grateful for it.

  “We’re honored to have such a visitor. Welcome Princess Ravenna,” Tami said.

  “How did you …?”

  Tami smiled. “I’d know whose child you are by your eyes. Queen Ava’s are that exact shade.”

  Ravenna bit her tongue. She would have loved to have had the queen’s auburn hair, but she hated that her eyes looked like Queen Ava’s. I may have her color irises, but not their look.

  Falke chuckled. “Despite the fact everyone knows who you are, perhaps formal introductions are in order. You’ve met Andi, an adept of note.” Andi’s eyebrows went up. Ravenna guessed Falke had never said anything nice before. “Your host is Priestess Tamesis McKnight, formerly of Drunemeton Chapel, and the leader of this small band. Friends, may I introduce you to Princess Ravenna Modron Ygraine Cerdwen.”