The Shadow Companion - Laura Anne Gilman [55]
“I don’t understand….”
“She lied, Ailis.” Newt’s voice was as cold as Morgain’s expression. “Everything was a lie.”
“Not everything,” the woman replied, smiling in a way that sent shivers down their spines. “I did indeed call my companion forth from this Well of Bitter Waters, with the spell inscribed just inside the rim,” and she gestured at their soot-smeared fingers. “And there was certainly a bargain struck, between us two.”
She paused. “In fact, had you discovered my companion’s name, it would indeed have been a thing of great power over it, enough for me to drive it from these lands. A pity that you did not have time to succeed.”
The shadow-figure behind her glowered at that, but Morgain did not seem to notice. Or perhaps she did not care.
“So no, I did not lie. I simply was not…forthcoming about the price that would be required, to pay for the bargain I made.”
“Not your magic,” Gerard said, things suddenly falling into place. He shifted the sword in his hand, testing to see if his leg would support his weight. “Not your blood. Hers.”
“Indeed.” The enchantress nodded her regal head once in acknowledgment.
“Morgain!” Ailis was having trouble accepting what she was hearing.
“It would not have been my first wish, or even my second,” Morgain said, meeting Ailis’s gaze squarely, without flinching. “But I am reminded that there are sacrifices which need to be made to achieve a final goal.”
The companion brought forth a soft envelope of cloth, unrolled it, and placed it on the ground. It was a map. But it shimmered, and the markings rose from flat ink into shapes and figures above the parchment that seemed to be moving.
Newt took a cautious step back, even as Ailis leaned forward, fascinated.
Morgain’s cold voice warmed, slightly. “You will become part of a new world, Ailis. Not gone, but reformed. A world in which the Old Ways are honored once again, where men are not the sole leaders, the sole rulers. A world in which women reclaim their rightful place, their rightful powers.”
“But I won’t be around to see it,” Ailis said, shaking her head. The shadow-figure, who had moved closer to her, hissed.
“That can be done without death,” Newt said. Despite his own fear, he inched forward to take her arm, move her farther away from the triple threat of Morgain, her companion, and the map. The companion turned its glare on him, and did not back down. “Ailis, I know it’s appealing, but think—”
Ailis found an outlet for her conflicting emotions. Turning on Newt, she said, “Appealing? What do you think of me?” She turned to Morgain, then. “And you. You speak of women having power. Where is my power, Morgain? Where is my right to decide what I want to do?”
“Child…”
“No!” Ailis knew that it was useless, but just as it had when facing Merlin, the anger she felt now reformed as power and welled up inside her. She felt it burn in her veins, a twitch forcing her arm out, throwing that power at Morgain.
The enchantress caught the spear magic easily, absorbing it without more expression than a gently raised eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Ailis. But the end result will be worth it.”
“What about the Grail?” Ailis shouted.
Morgain checked herself mid-gesture. “What of it?” There was a new tone in her voice, a hunger that made Newt shiver, increasing his desire to pull Ailis out of range, out of sight, out of danger.
Ailis only saw that she had the upper hand, at least for the moment. “You said that it was yours more than Arthur’s. That its ‘blood-infused power’ was more Old Ways than New—that it would be enough to bring you to power. Wasn’t that part of your plan as well? To find it, use it, to help you find an heir, and save the land?”
Gerard, sensing imminent danger, tried to silence Ailis, but he could not.
“The Grail came to us!” the girl continued, caught up in her anger. “We were deemed worthy enough to carry it, not you.”
“Grail? You have the Grail?” Morgain’s voice was scornful, but there was a terrible hope in her eyes.
“It matters not.” The companion’s voice was as terrifying