The Camelot Spell - Laura Anne Gilman [66]
“She’s an enchanter as well…? Of course she is,” Newt answered himself. “She cast the spell. But why?”
“I don’t know,” Ailis said again. “Only that she hates Arthur. Horribly.”
“And she could not bear to think that Arthur might gain more glory or add to his reputation by claiming the Grail,” Gerard added in a grim tone. “But there’s a way to end the spell. She said as much. That we almost succeeded. We still have the rest of this day. We have to find out how to end it!”
“She was taunting us, Gerard! All of this…if Morgain was the one who cast this spell, then there’s no hope. Only Merlin can stand against her—Merlin and Arthur—and she’s managed to take Arthur down—”
“Ailis!” Newt’s harsh exclamation stopped her, making her realize that she was beginning to shout as well. She drew in a deep, pained breath, then let it go and nodded. “Yes. There’s always hope. Merlin’s guided us so far.” She only hoped he could do so again.
“‘Understand what it is you do….’” Gerard looked at the talisman in Newt’s hand. He reached out to turn it so that the glass ends were vertical. It somehow seemed right that way. “We have to understand what the spell is!”
“But how?” Newt was being the practical one again. “We don’t even know what language it’s in!”
“Merlin’s study,” Ailis said. “He sent us to this. It must be a language that he knows.”
“Must?” Newt asked, clearly dubious.
Gerard and Thomas were already out the door. Ailis gave Newt a one-shouldered shrug and rubbed exhaustion out of her eyes. “If we don’t believe, we have nothing. Haven’t you realized that already?”
“Even if you do believe, you still mostly have nothing. Haven’t you learned that already?”
Ailis looked at him with pity. “Trust, Newt. For once in your life, just trust.”
And with that, she walked out the door, leaving Newt alone in a room filled with motionless sleeping knights.
“Do you understand females any better, your highness?” he asked Arthur. The silent reply seemed to mock him.
“Don’t bother with those,” Ailis said, scowling at an ebony box filled with writing quills. “They’re not magical at all.”
“How do you know that?” Thomas had gathered half a dozen helpers along the way, and they all crowded into the rooms that were set aside for the enchanter. The young ones gaped and gawped at the strange instruments and manuscripts scattered everywhere.
“Because…I know.” She wasn’t sure how she knew, but whatever it was they needed, she was confident it was in here. It was like knowing the color of her own hair, or how her feet would move one in front of the other.
A young page reached for a crystal bowl. “Don’t touch that!” Ailis snapped, then whirled on Thomas. “Why did you bring them all in here? They’re going to break something, or worse, set off a spell accidentally.”
That made some step back with more fear than curiosity.
“Ailis.” Gerard tried to be reasonable. “We need all the help we can get. They’ll follow orders. They won’t touch anything we don’t give them. Right?”
All but Thomas nodded their heads in agreement. The squire folded his arms over his chest and watched Gerard until his fellow squire lifted one eyebrow and repeated: “Right?”
“Command me, great one,” Thomas said then. Ailis, not trusting herself to speak, handed him a particularly heavy book she didn’t think had anything worthwhile in it. In the meantime, Newt had placed the talisman on a small round table that he had dragged into the middle of the room so that everyone could see the lettering.
“Look for anything that looks like that,” Ailis said, pointing to it. “The lettering or the shape. But don’t read any of it out loud!”
She handed out parchments and bound papers she thought might be useful, suppressing a wince when she had to hand them to children younger than herself. None of them should be doing this. She shouldn’t be doing this. But they had no choice.
Closing her eyes, Ailis let herself sense the room. She reached