CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THUS BEGINS THE FUTURE

Morgana opened her eyes and instantly regretted it. Her pupils were wholly unadjusted for the flickering orange light that hung above her, and it blinded her for a moment, sending shooting pains through her head. "Morgana?" Arthur asked, reaching out with a hand and shaking her shoulder gently. "Morgana, get up!"

"Where am I?" she asked, a little unnecessarily. It was then that the distant rumbles of the Draks destroying the city came to her ears.

"You're in Camelot."

"What happened?" she asked. Her memory of the events at the Kall's Keep were perfectly clear, but she wanted to know about the castle's situation.

"You vanished from the courtyard about two hours ago, then returned about a half an hour later, passed out and looking like you'd been chewed by a dragon. We brought you here, to the infirmary, and you've just woken up. What happened? Where did you go?" He looked suspicious, and she couldn't really blame him.

"I went to find out how to defeat the Draks," she said, sitting up. "And I succeeded."

"How can we defeat them?" Arthur asked, sitting back. She noticed that a couple of knights stood behind him, their swords out. "Why haven't you done so yet?"

She glared at him. "Why do you think?" she asked angrily, struggling to sit on the edge of the table where she lay. Teagan's magical blast hadn't missed her entirely, and she was still feeling some of the effects of the powerful spell. "I need a place to work."

Arthur opened his mouth to answer her, but was interrupted by an insistent tug on his arm. "Sire," a serving girl said, looking a little worried.

"What?" Arthur asked, turning to face her. Morgana noticed that it was the same girl who had spoken to her in the hall outside her room at her first visit to Camelot and turned her head away. The girl – Megan – had seemed very talkative, and Morgana wasn't sure if her forgetting spell had worked quite as it should have.

"It's the queen, sire. She's, um, something's happening..." The girl seemed lost for words, but Arthur had no trouble supplying them.

"Is the baby coming?" he asked her, grabbing her shoulders.

"Yes," Megan finally stammered.

"Morgana, come with me. Sir Griff, take the rest of the men and try to hold the Draks off until Morgana can banish them. You," he indicated the girl. "Get yourself someplace safe. I can find my own chambers by myself."

Megan nodded and left, the knights scattered, and Morgana followed Arthur out of the infirmary It was surprisingly empty, but she guessed that people were leaving the city rather than become trapped in the citadel, which was clearly the focus of the Drak's attack.

As they crossed the courtyard they felt rather than saw a Drak fly over them. They froze, like startled rabbits, and looked up. Wide black wings hung low over them, and a single glowing eye peered out from the inexorable dark. Then it opened its mouth and breathed fire. Without even thinking about it, Morgana conjured a shield to deflect the flames. They wreathed around the invisible barrier for a minute, then faded away, dissipating into the air. Morgana looked up at the Drak as it spread its wings and flew off again. The menacing presence was lifted and she let the shield drop.

"You … what … you just ..." Arthur stuttered, at a loss for words.

"Yes, I did just save your life," Morgana replied. "Come on, we need to get to Gwen and I need a place to work."

There was a resounding crash from above, and Morgana could see that one of the Draks had latched onto the side of the tower where the king's quarters were, and was pulling chunks of rock off the top. "GUINEVERE!" Arthur screamed, and dashed for the entrance to the castle. Morgana followed him. It was all playing out as her visions had shown her. Except that Arthur wasn't looking for anyone this time. He was following a straight path up to his chambers, still calling his wife's name. She smiled to herself. The future was not set in stone, not even her visions.

"Guinevere!" He burst through the door to his chambers, causing Gaius and Charlotte to jump about a foot into the air. "Guinevere!"

"Please, sire, sit down," Gaius said, taking Arthur's hand and moving him over the the table. "Everything is fine."

"Arthur," Morgana said from the doorway. "Do you want me to try the dismissal spell?"

"Yes," the king said, his blue eyes locked on his wife. "Right now." Morgana's eyes flicked to the bed, and the sense of déjà-vu took over her again. In the dream it had been just like that and right on cue, a shower of white rocks rained past the window from where they Drak had ripped them off the wall of the tower. "Morgana!" Arthur snapped. "Get a move on!"

"Don't you shout at me," she snapped back. "I need space to work." She looked around for a suitable surface, and found the table at which Arthur sat. "Stand up and get rid of all the chairs. I need the table."

"Why?" Arthur asked, in his usual obnoxious and overcurious manner.

"Because I need a flat surface, and the chairs are in the way," she responded irritably, grabbing one of the tall backed chairs and moving it away. Arthur followed suit and soon the table stood alone in its place. "Back up," she said to Arthur, a lot more confidently than she felt. Transportation spells had drained her power, along with the battle with Teagan and the shield against the Drak's flame. She could only hope that she would be able to hold up through the amount of energy that it would take to banish the Draks.

"What are you waiting for?" Arthur asked impatiently from where he stood. This time she didn't hold it against him. The combined stress of Gwen and the Draks must have been pushing him pretty hard.

"One moment," Morgana replied instead, reaching into her sash for the stone. It was still there, warmed by its extended exposure to her body heat. The instant her fingers touched it she felt as though all of her energy had been restored. It was like the past three days hadn't happened and she was ready to take on the world. Morgana blinked and looked at the smooth, glossy stone, seeing only her reflection.

"What is that?" Arthur asked, intrigued despite himself.

Morgana was shaken from her thoughts. "It's what's going to help me get rid of the Draks," she said shortly. "Now don't bother me." She put the stone in the center of the table and stepped back, closing her eyes and focusing her energy. The power burned within her, a bright golden ball of force, usually repressed but finally allowed to be free. It pushed against her skin, fighting her control for mastery over her body. If it was ever allowed fully out of its chains it would consume her and she would be lost to a desire for destruction.

With little struggle Morgana mastered the power and channeled it into her soul, shaping it into what she needed it to be. When she had it dominated she opened her eyes and extended her hands, concentrating on the little black rock. Her eyes glowed gold, and the stone began to glow in response, a dark glow, if such a thing could exist. Morgana began to chant quietly in the language of the Old Religion. The links that bound the rock and the witch together were strengthening, and as the final connection slid into place, she gasped in shock.

She could feel the entire mountain range as though she was a part of it. The ancient history that dwelt there was open to her, but she had no time to examine it as she wished to. Instead she began to speak the incantation that would chain her mind and soul to her body as she worked fierce, compelling magic. The type of enchantment she was casting held the ability to steal her into oblivion.

"To the fire within my soul, I call. To the air within my lungs, I call. To the blood within my veins, I call. To the earth within my flesh, I call. Hear ye and harken to my cry, for thou art the root of my being and the home to my mind and so I bid thee hold me safe 'til I return." Instantly the majority of the magic of the mountains was cut off as barriers were erected around her mind. A narrow passage was left, lined with magical sentries designed to sense any danger and leap in to rescue her. She breathed an inward sigh of relief that that had worked as it was supposed to. "To the Mountains I speak, ancient strongholds of sorcery and wizardry." That was where the English bit of the spell ended.

Morgana took another deep breath and shut her eyes. Then she began to chant in the language of the Old Religion once more. The spell was long and complicated, but she eventually got through it, speaking the final words with mild joy. Her mouth was getting dry. But this was where the spellbooks had gotten a little fuzzy. None of the books had seemed to want to describe what had happened once contact with the Draks was made. They had been very clear though, no bargains were to be struck with the beings. The only contact was to be the words of the dismissal, and in Teagan's case, the words of instruction.

Her mind's barriers were slammed with such might that she physically shook. It was only due to her fortifications that she was not annihilated completely. The sensation encompassed her, and she knew that it was the Draks, searching for a weak point in her walls. Without waiting for them to find one, she began the dismissal words. They were fairly simple, and basically told them to return to their homes and go back to sleep for another couple thousand years.

Morgana, sinuous voices whispered. She didn't falter, despite her surprise at their speaking to her. Morgana, we want to serve you. Think of all the power you could have, if we were at your command. Kingdoms would fall; cities would be razed. Listen to us. The Draks put images into her head. The great castles of Albion fell, and the gold seal of the Pendragons fluttered above them. The Draks stood before her, bowing their mighty shadowy heads as she commanded them to the next battle. They never lost. Army after army fell to their indestructible power. Then it was Morgana herself, seated on a throne, a crown on her head.

It was that image that pulled Morgana's mind from the dreams. She could not say that they weren't tempting, but the last reminded her of what had been shown in the MirrorHall, when she had sat on the throne of Camelot, her eyes hard and unfeeling. It was terrifying, and she had vowed never to be that power hungry. With renewed authority, she finished the dismissal spell, and the presences receded swiftly, returning to their mountain home and darkened lair.

Silence fell over the city, eerie after the catastrophe that had preceded it.

"You did it," Arthur said in astonishment. Morgana severed the ties with the stone, let down her barriers and opened her eyes.

"No need to sound so surprised," she said, mock offense in her voice.

"Thank you, Morgana," the king said. "Now please leave. Gaius needs to be able to concentrate on my wife."

Morgana nodded, picked up the stone, and left his chambers, closing the door on her way out. Her fingers clenched around the black rock, and a somewhat familiar voice spoke in her head. I told you that you held power. Well done.Morgana didn't bother trying to respond. She knew that the spirit would offer no information that it did not wish to give up, and so she just took the compliment at face value. She proceeded down into the city and walked the streets, using her magic whenever necessary to put out fires and help people. When she finally returned to the citadel night was falling and she was both hungry and exhausted. Life was returning to the city and many of the people were hard at work repairing their damaged lives. The servants who had hidden in the bowels of the castle were emerging and the kitchen was bustling once again.

Surprisingly, Arthur was already sitting at one of the rough wooden tables waiting to be served dinner. Morgana took a seat across from him. "How's Gwen?" she asked, a little fearful for the answer.

"It's going to be a long labor," Arthur replied, twiddling his thumbs and looking nervous. "Gaius said she'd be fine though."

"That's good." Morgana decided to tell him of the state of the city. When she had finished her report, Arthur was looking at her in astonishment.

"That's amazing, Morgana. That you would do so much to help the people even after I had plotted against you."

She smiled, a genuine face-splitting smile. "I want to help. We need to come to some sort of an arrangement, and the only way to do that is if we work together."

The king smiled back as two plates of food were set before them. "You should come live in Camelot for a little bit. Show the people that we are allies of magic, and that magic can be used for good as well as evil. Bring your twins... Cade and Emlyn right? I would like to meet them."

"Of course," she said as he began to eat. Her eyes fixed on his face and optimism bloomed bright and new within her. There was hope for the future after all.