Two worlds flickered in and out of each other. In the one it was summer: shafts of light lanced through the west-facing windows of the great hall. In the other it was winter: thunder rumbled outside, and the great hall of Castle Eudaimon was full of dead men.
Some things were the same in both summer and winter: Epicene was on the far side of the hall, crumpled against the wall. The others had been broken free of their trance. Aglinda and Alisander were terrified by the things they saw in front of them, they pressed their faces into Piers’ apron so they wouldn’t have to see. The others – Palomina and Palomides, Agravaine and Melwas, Elia and Bellina – were all staring open-mouthed at the flickering world. Those who had weapons had drawn them.
The long table was empty in summer; in winter, dead men filled every seat, the remains of long-rotten food spilled before them. In the summer, Prince Accolon lay still on the floor; in winter he was replaced by the man with the ram’s skull staff, who also seemed to be unconscious. In summer Lady Bertilak sat sewing on her chair, but in winter the Questing Beast was in her place, roaring its many roars.
‘Drive it out!’ cried Melwas in both seasons, advancing on the beast in one, on Lady Bertilak in the other.
Piers pushed Aglinda and Alisander behind him and drew his sickle from his belt. Bellina rushed to the little ones and buried her face in Aglinda’s hair.
In winter, the Questing Beast snapped its jaws at the points of their advancing blades; in summer, Lady Bertilak ordered the children to sheath their swords, to not dishonour themselves in her husband’s house.
Epicene struggled to her feet. I did the same.
The others advanced on Lady Bertilak and the beast.
The whirl of seasons began to slow. Lady Bertilak bent and grew. Things began to claw at the insides of her belly, as if trying to scratch their way out of her and into the air.
Finally it was winter, and Lady Bertilak was the beast. She had always been the beast that stood in the way of our true quest.
The others formed a horseshoe, the beast snapped at them on the right side and the left.
There was a bright light in the corner of my eye. Epicene had stretched her hands out in front of her. A fireball was slowly forming between her palms.
I stretched out my hands, imitating her. I concentrated on a central point. Water vapour began to swirl in the air. It formed itself into a pea-sized ball of ice which grew and grew.
By making small lunges at the Questing Beast, the others had driven it back almost to the threshold of the hall.
Epicene flicked her hands at the beast, and I did the same. The fire-sorcerer’s fireball and my ball of ice sped through the air, as if they had been shot from catapults. The fire struck the beast on one side, the ice on the other. It screeched a many-voiced howl of pain, and retreated into the small courtyard.
‘The doors!’ screamed Melwas. ‘Close the doors!’
Palomides and Piers leapt forward and slammed the great doors closed. They drove its bolts home. Palomina and Melwas dragged the great table towards the door, the dead men dropping to the floor, the rotten food scattering everywhere. The rest of us took their lead, helping to haul the heavy table. We barred the door just as the Questing Beast’s courage returned. It threw itself at the entrance, shaking the old wood, but not coming close to breaking it.
We looked at each other in silence, getting our breath back.
‘What can we do?’ whined Bellina at the far end of the room. ‘Where’s Accolon?’ Merlin, like everything in the room, had remained in his true form when the season settled.
There was a crash of lightning in the distance, followed by a long roll of thunder. The first spots of rain pattered against the eastern wall; stray drops blew in through the now-broken windows.
The beast crunched against the door. Crumbs of plaster fell from the walls.
‘Oh Lord,’ said Agravaine, placing his sword in his table. ‘I remember now. Prince Accolon’s dead. He’s been dead for two or three years. Gawain told me he killed him when the lad tried to use Excalibur against Arthur.’
‘Huh,’ said Elia. ‘You tried to tell that story before, but you forgot it.’
‘Aye, I remember,’ said Agravaine. ‘In Mordred’s room, our first night here.’
‘That’s Merlin!’ shrieked Bellina, pointing at the man with the ram’s skull staff. ‘Accolon is dead? He said he would take me home. He said he would marry me and take me away from my stepmother.’
‘The Accolon we knew was always Merlin, or part of him,’ said Epicene. ‘Do not trouble yourself, child, he took the full force our discord spell. That fragment of him is finished.’
The beast threw itself against the door again. The door didn’t give.
Bellina crumpled to the floor, sobbing. I had never felt sorry for her before. Alisander crept towards her and touched her golden hair to comfort her. She batted his hand away.
The room no longer had the fresh smell of summer, though thankfully the food had been so long rotting, and the men at the table so long dead that the air was musty rather than putrid.
‘Who were they?’ said Palomina, nodding at the skeletons.
‘P-P-Previous guests of L-L-L-Lady Bertilak’s. They s-s-stayed too long.’
‘Killed by happiness,’ said Elia.
‘Oh my,’ said Agravaine, leaning over Merlin’s broken body. He looked at Melwas, and then back to dead man. He stepped back, tripping over his feet. ‘Gods and monsters.’
‘What is it, Agravaine?’ said Epicene.
I went towards him, fearing that he was going to faint from his two wounds.
‘It was him. Oh gods, Melwas.’ He looked imploringly at her. ‘I’m sorry, lass. I thought it was you coming to my room at night,’ he gulped. ‘But now I remember it was him. For the love of the gods... Thank Cupid he never shared my bed when I asked him to.’
‘Hey, lad,’ said Piers, with an angry edge in his voice. ‘What’s wrong with sharing your bed with a bloke?’
‘Nothing, Piers,’ said Agravaine. ‘But look at this one. He’s old. And I think he’s probably evil. And I thought I was with Melwas.’
Piers took his hand from his sickle and sat back down on the edge of the table. ‘Aye, I think that’s fair,’ he said to Palomides.
‘Mon Dieu! My God!’ said Melwas. ‘We must get away from this island.’
‘The spell is broken now, is it not?’ said Palomides. ‘My sister’s boat should no longer be trapped by that unnatural mist.’ He turned to Epicene for support.
‘That is another spell entirely. Drift and I merely revealed the truth of things to you – the spell keeping us trapped here is another.’
‘You can break that as well?’ said Palomina.
‘Certainly. But it will take more study.’
‘N-N-N-No it won’t. I-I-I know how to break the spell. You n-need to sacrifice a Christian. Y-You n-need to sacrifice me.’
‘You’re not a Christian, feller,’ said Piers.
‘I-I-I am. The hermitess cast a spell on me with water. I’m a C-Christian now.’
Elia had climbed on to the table to listen at the door. The beast hadn’t tried to break through for a while. ‘It’s gone. It’s given up.’
The rain drummed hard on the roof, and the room became darker. We heard many howls.
‘That was from outside the walls,’ said Palomides.
‘We should guard Mordred,’ said Melwas.
‘And Christian,’ said Palomina.
The others began dragging the table away from the door.
‘B-But, b-but.’
‘We’re not going to sacrifice you, Drift; deal with it,’ said Piers as he clambered over the table and followed the others through the half-open door.
I helped Bellina up onto the table, and was going to follow when Lady Bertilak’s completed tapestry caught my eye. It had crumpled on the floor when she turned into the Questing Beast. I went over and spread it out with my foot.
In summer, it had been a simple depiction of the castle. All of the windows had been blank. In the winter there was more to it. A representation of the beast prowled in front of drawbridge. There was a figure in each window of the north tower. I looked closer and saw that they were portraits of our group, all but Accolon, each of us wearing a vacant smile.
* * *
Mordred was not in his bed. There was no sign of a struggle. His clothes were gone too.
‘Where’s the baby?’ said Aglinda.
‘I-I-In one of the chambers upstairs, I-I-I heard him c-crying before.’
‘Fetch him,’ said Melwas. ‘Everyone else spread out and search the castle. Mordred must be here somewhere.’
I ran up the stairs of the north tower, throwing open the chamber doors as I went. Each of the rooms was more untidy than I had ever seen them. Despite the sky blackening with the coming storm, none the candles in the rooms were lit; all of them had burned to stubs. Their light had been as illusory as the long summer. Even as I worked up a sweat dashing up the stairs, I could feel the chill of winter in my bones and in the stones of castle; the place had not been warm in months.
I found my own chamber empty, and with a heavy heart climbed the remaining steps towards the room that was to have been the Margaret-thing’s. When I got there, however, I found that there was no chamber door, just smooth stone. The only door I could see was the small one that led out to the turrets and the roof. I climbed outside and ran the whole way around the turret, the rain soaking me. No one else was up there. Far below, the Questing Beast was disappearing into the forest.
The others had gathered back in Mordred’s chamber.
‘C-C-C-C-Christian’s not up there,’ I announced as I ran in, out of breath.
‘Neither is Mordred,’ said Palomina. ‘We cannot find him anywhere.’
‘I-I-I saw the beast g-going into the forest.’
‘The beast,’ said Melwas. ‘The beast has them. We must rescue them.’
‘I’m not going out into that storm!’ whined Bellina. ‘The beast will eat us all.’
Melwas squared up to the other girl. ‘As you wish. Stay here on your own. Don’t get killed.’
Bellina fled up the stairs. We heard the door of her chamber slam closed, and its bolt clunk into place.
Melwas crouched down and spoke more gently to Aglinda and Alisander. ‘You two should stay here. Lock yourselves in a chamber and keep an eye out for Mordred and the baby from your windows.’
‘We’re not staying,’ said Aglinda. ‘We’re coming to help you find them.’
Melwas nodded. ‘Is this also your decision Alisander?’
The little boy was less sure, but he indicated he would come too.
‘I’ll make sure ’Sander’s safe,’ said Aglinda, putting her arm around her friend’s shoulders.
‘Very well,’ said Melwas, standing. ‘Everyone?’
We all agreed that we would go with her.
‘Agravaine?’
The fair boy looked away from her. He bit his lip. ‘Aye. I’ll come if you’ll have me with you. Let’s get them back.’
* * *
The rain sliced down from the black clouds, breaking the surface of the dirty snow. The ground was sodden: where there was no snow there were cold, muddy puddles. Within moments of leaving the shelter of the castle we were all soaked to the skin.
Melwas led us across the larger courtyard. The drawbridge was down, the chains that had held it in place in summer were broken. Parts of the bridge’s surface had rotted and collapsed into the moat of spikes, leaving only a slim bridge one or two planks wide to get us across to the bleak grassland on the other side.
The stand at the tilting ground had disappeared, but the herd of wild horses was waiting for us at the edge of the trees. Melwas helped those of us who were unused to riding mount. She pushed me up onto a young, light-brown mare behind Epicene.
‘Can you do anything to find them?’ Melwas asked us.
Epicene shook here head. ‘I can light our way, but I can feel all the magic in the island now, and it obscures the location of the Bertilak-beast.’
There was a flash of lightning over the castle. ‘Into the forest, then; that’s where we’ve seen it before,’ shouted Melwas over the thunderclap that followed. She threw herself onto her red mare and clicked her tongue. The horse understood at once where her rider wanted to go, and walked into the shadows beneath the trees. The rest of our horses followed in line.
Melwas ordered us to fan out, so that we were covering as much ground as possible, but when the darkness of the storm was amplified by the darkness of oncoming night, she moved Epicene and me to the front of a single file. Epicene conjured a light above her head. The fireball cast strange shadows in the trees. I could feel the warmth of the fire on my face, but it did not penetrate my cold, drenched clothes.
We forded the stream and went on until we came to the river, which was swollen by the rain and impassable.
‘We should have brought torches, we could have split up,’ said Melwas.
‘W-W-W-W-W-We should try the falls,’ I said.
She nodded, and wheeled her horse to face upriver.
‘Melwas!’ hissed Elia, who was riding with Palomides at the back of the line.
I turned, nearly toppling from the horse’s bare back as I did so. Elia was pointing behind us. I caught a glimpse of dark fur moving through the trees, tracking us.
‘Epicene, the light,’ I whispered.
The fire-sorcerer closed her hand, and we were left in darkness. I could hear the rush of the river, the rain pouring on wind-blown leaves, and the stamping and huffing of the horses.
There was a flash of lightning directly overhead. In the brief moment of illumination I saw Agravaine in the process of dropping from his horse onto his good leg, and drawing his sword. His blade glinted.
The horrible mass of the Questing Beast was leaping out of the darkness, teeth bared.
The rest was confusion.
There was screaming in the darkness. The horses scared. I felt Epicene dropping to the ground moments before our horse reared, throwing me into the fast-flowing waters of the river.
The current was strong, and I was thirty feet downriver before I was able to find purchase on a rock and haul myself back towards the bank.
There was a flare of firelight. I felt a rush of animal panic through the river-water. One of the terrified horses was trying to flee the beast. It was in the river, struggling against the flow to reach the far side. I grabbed handfuls of mud and grass as I slid and scrambled up the bank. I felt the horse’s relief as its forelegs found the mud, and it leapt onto the far bank.
I slipped, and slithered back into the water. It was then that I heard him, just the faintest trace of Mordred flowing past me.
He was alive, but very weak. The Questing Beast did not have him. He had Christian with him at the waterfall.
I stumbled towards the fire – I had to dive out of the way of Melwas’ mare, which was charging, riderless, away from the fight.
They were silhouettes against the fire. I could make out the shapes of Piers wielding his sickle, Palomides with his thin sword, and the enraged beast itself, thrashing amongst them.
The beast caught Palomides with a swipe of its huge paw. The Saracen was thrown into the forest by the blow. Piers took a swipe at the beast with his sickle, landed a blow, and ran to help Palomides.
The beast turned, chasing them. As I stumbled back towards the fight I watched Epicene and the others give chase.
By the time I reached the place where the beast had attacked, all of them, children and horses alike, had scattered into the trees. I was torn between two impulses: I could run into the darkness of the woods to try and help them, or I could go after Mordred.
My fleeting contact with Mordred through the water had not revealed his intentions, but I knew that he had Christian. He had heard my conversation with Hilda: he knew how to break the spell keeping us on the island. I had no choice: I couldn’t run into the woods hoping to save my friends who I might never find in the dark. I had to find Mordred. I had to stop him doing something terrible.
I ran against the driving rain, towards the falls.