Ides of the May (Children of the May 2 - updates weekly)

Chapter Forty-One: A New Master

I woke with a ringing in my ears and dust in my mouth. I felt water pressing at the back of my head, and through that water I felt my sister – no, my nephew – my sister. I felt a hand on my cheek, a smooth, adult-sized hand. I opened my eyes. It was still black. Warm stones shifted above me, stinking of dust and steam and broken magic.

'Uncle,' said a voice close by me. 'Uncle?'

Galahad was no longer in my arms. I tried to stand up, but found that there were rocks only inches above my head.

'Wh-Wh-Wh-Where is he?' I said in panic. 'Where's G-Galahad?'

'I'm here, Uncle. It's me,' said the voice next to me.

'W-W-W-W-What? Wh-Where am I?'

I felt the watersnakes shatter as they complete their work on the back of my head and my scalded back. I coughed and spluttered. I reached out to touch the man beside me. He was fully grown, dressed only in a few rags. There was something round his neck: a smooth wooden cross.

'W-W-W-W-What?'

The stones shifted above our heads. I heard scrambling footsteps. Someone was clambering over the rubble above us.

'Help!' I shouted. 'G-G-Get us out!'

The feet scrambled away. I heard laughter, Arthur's gleeful laughter.

I was close to panic. I thrashed around the small space, dislodging stones and rocks. I felt two strong hands holding me still.

'Uncle,' said the voice. 'Uncle, stop. It's alright.'

'D-D-D-D-Don't call m-me that.' Tears overtook me. 'C-C-C-C-Christian!' I wept. 'Where are y-y-y-you, b-boy?'

'It's me. Breathe, Uncle Drift. Breathe. Calm yourself.' When the stranger had convinced himself that I wasn't going to bring the rest of the rocks down on us, he spoke again: 'Do you remember how Merlin rescued my mother and the others from the ruins of Castle Spar-Longius; what Garnish told my mother when she was pretending to be Norma?' he said. 'I mean, I know you do. I saw it in your mind. We've got to do the same thing. We'll make a bubble to throw the rocks off us, yes, and then scramble out as quickly as we can before any more come down.'

'H-H-H-How long h-have we been here?'

'A few minutes, I think. You took a nasty blow to the head.'

'B-B-B-But y-you're a child. Y-Y-Y-You can b-barely s-s-s-s-speak one w-word.'

'Uncle Drift, please stop.'

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing brain. I remembered the cavern falling, the tunnel collapsing around Galahad and me. I remembered – I remembered the tear that had flown from Neave's hand to her boy's lips.

The magical interference from the Cave of the Dragon had fallen away to nothing. There was no jaggedness in the ground beneath my hands. It felt as if Merlin's disturbance had melted away from beneath Britain. But in the young man beside me I felt my sister's water-magic, only not quite; it was tinged with something that felt like Christian.

'Are you ready now, Uncle?' said the boy.

'Y-Y-Y-Yes.'

'Take my hand.' I felt his long fingers curl around my palm.

'R-R-R-R-Right,' I said. 'Now.'

The quality of the air changed as a hard bubble of water formed around us. When we were surrounded, we pushed it outwards, and the stones above our heads began to shift. This was not the violent explosion Merlin had used to throw the red rocks of Spar-Longius into the air, but a slow shifting that pushed the debris away from us. Soon we could stand, and a moment later we saw daylight. The remaining steam from the Cave of the Dragon drifted towards the few fluffy clouds in the blue sky.