Chapter 2

Where the notion that Arthur is in grave peril is enough to set me trembling, the idea that he hasn't even been alive these past months is horrific. Can I trust my sanity enough to take what I think are memories over the proof I just witnessed? Perhaps some evil sorcery has befallen Megan to make her forget- perhaps someone wants to erase all memories of Arthur.

I'm not even sure it isn't going too far to indulge these thoughts, but anything is better than a reality without Arthur, mistaken though this one may be.

The lake is as turbulent as the high-tide ocean when I arrive, and pitch dark. Lightning has begun to strike, however, and flashes almost constantly in what is the worst storm I've ever seen around Avalon.

"Arthur!" I cry out repeatedly as I walk down the shore, often drowned out by the thunder's rumbling. I can make something out up ahead now, and while it's too large to be a person, it raises my hopes and I hurry forward.

Only when I'm up on it, feeling its bow do I realize it's a boat, and with as much speed as the lightning bolts all around, a memory strikes.

"Merlin!" Arthur was calling my name. We were out on the lake, standing in this very boat upon my last memory. His voice- he sounded so afraid. What could have happened to him?

It's long been a fear of mine that the Sidhe would somehow take Arthur back beneath the waters of Avalon. I can't let that happen- I won't- but what if it's already been done?

Without further thought, I drive the boat back into the water. Though the tide objects, I push away from the shore, using all my strength to paddle with the oar.

Then I remember that no sane man will be out in this storm to see me here. I replace the oar to the boat floor, and propel the small vessel with magic thereon. I can't keep it entirely steady against the waves, however, and crouch low as my boat sails to the island at the heart of Avalon- where I found Arthur washed up onto the shore four months ago.

I hobble upland after landing, and begin to circle the island. Whatever it is I'm looking for, I can't seem to find it.

Arthur is nowhere in sight.

Uneasiness creeps over me as I search within the ruins of the first floor of the tower. Fortunately I needn't go any farther, for the stairs have long broken away. The top half of this tower crumbled down centuries ago. It's through these fragmented stones scattered across the back half of the island that I now search.

The eerie feeling only heightens as I wander farther through. It's a bit of a maze really, some of the stones rising a few feet over my head, and sometimes I lose all sight of the lake. As I reach a place where I can again see my surroundings, I realize that I'm once more out of breath, this time in fright, and I stop to catch it.

I open my mouth to call Arthur's name again, but something stops me. Some instinct, or perhaps a purely ungrounded fear warns me to be silent. I can pinpoint this feeling, and it comes from behind me.

Slowly, I turn around.

There, on the farther shore, stands a figure with white, ghostlike skin, cloaked in black. I rub my eyes and shield them from the rain to be certain when I take a second look.

Even now, can I be sure? If I can hallucinate Arthur, am I not capable of imagining others as well? For I know by the dread in my heart that the person across the lake bodes evil, and cannot be an ordinary man.

He doesn't move. I suppose I'd be more startled if he did- but there's something altogether unnerving about the stillness. Familiar, almost.

I can't get out of here fast enough. I hurry through the rest of the ruins, cold panic causing my heart to race when I'm in those blind spots where all I can see is the stone around me. I have to get out… I can only hope that Arthur is safe somewhere- somewhere far away…

"Emrys."

I turn and stand as still as death itself. No. I didn't hear that. It just isn't possible.

…But if Arthur can come back from the dead- why couldn't Mordred?

The moments pass slowly before I'm able to force myself to move again- though after I've begun, it would be no use to try to stop me. I race down the side of the island, not daring to look back because I know that he'll be closer somehow.

My fear gains further control with each passing second and when I hit the boat, I'm already ordering it to move. It does my will of course, but not fast enough, especially on the raging tide which still seems to run against me. I've not gotten far from the island when I turn around, almost without thinking.

He's there. Just as I'd feared, he now stands on the edge of the island shore, close enough to be easily recognized. He holds a sword in front of him, its point resting in the sand.

And he's completely still- just watching me. I stare back with pure shock that I don't even think to conceal. What right has he to be here?

I force myself to look at him, worried that if I turn away, he'll move to the shore that I'm hastening to reach. But when my boat goes over a particularly rough wave, I fall face-forward to the floor. I've caught myself, but in the moment I wasn't looking at Mordred, he's disappeared. In fact, he's on none of the shores within my sight.