Ever My Merlin (Book 3, My Merlin Series) (19 page)

A skinny kid, about six years old, ran up to us. His face broke into a toothy smile. He said in poorly accented English, “I can help guide you up, mister. I can get you up fast.”

“No—” Matt started to say.

I elbowed him and told the kid, “We’d love some help.”

The boy beamed and ran to the steps, gesturing at us. “Here.”

“What happened to discreet?” Matt hissed in my ear.

“What happened to helping the local economy?” I snapped back.

He sighed. “With what I have left, we’ll be lucky if we can afford our next meal.”

We headed up the steep path. Stone steps were carved into the side of the mountain. The path’s rock side was overgrown with vines and various ferns. On the other side, a sharp drop-off had no railings to stop you from tumbling into an abyss of wilderness. Because of the free lunch offered in town (I figured), we were the only ones at the site. That way, if we plunged to our deaths, we’d do so without any witnesses.

Our small guide went swiftly up the steps. Matt climbed steadily behind him. I was less steady. My tennis shoes were not designed for hiking. I wondered if Indiana Jones thought about getting better shoes for the girl he dragged along with him. Then, I remembered the snake crawling through high heels in one movie, and decided all guys were pretty much the same amount of clueless. After one terrifying stumble, I chucked my pride and grabbed Matt’s bag for some support. “I’m not taking another step until you tell me why we’re following Alexander the Great around this island.”

Matt glanced at our guide. The boy outdistanced us by several steps. He took a slow step forward.  “Al-sikandar. Sikander. Iskander is how he was known here. He conquered every piece of land from Macedonia down to the Gaza strip. In Egypt, he found the sanctuary of the oracle of Ammon-Ra, the sun god. The Greeks believed Ammon-Ra was the god, Zeus. Now, the kings of Macedonia maintained they were descended from Hercules, also a mortal son of Zeus. Alexander’s mother believed Alexander to be conceived by the god himself, disguised in her husband’s mortal form. Alexander gained confirmation of his demi-god status by the oracle, and thereby declared it to his kingdom.”

I took a few shaky steps up the staircase. “Let me guess—he used his divine status to rally the troops to conquer the rest of the world.”

“Right,” said Matt. “He conquered past the Middle East and India. Alexander’s horse, Bucephalus, his most prized possession, was killed in the battle in what is today known as Pakistan. This horse was said to be a gift from Poseidon. Losing this horse had a great effect on Alexander. The oracles at Delphi predicted that whoever should ride the beast would rule the world. It shook his image of immortality. After Bucephalus’s death, Alexander came down through India and old Lanka in search of one thing. I believe he employed a wizard to help him climb Adam’s Peak, a place said to be protected by numerous deities for this reason.”

“Which is?”

“Legend states that Adam’s footprint was once encrusted with gems from a grand tunnel.”

“Like the gem on the cross?”

Matt nodded. “A tunnel of gems in the mountains holds the water of life.”

“Water of life? Or the Healing Cup?”

“I believe so… another name for it may be the Holy Grail. All three legends have one thing in common—they promise immortality. However, Alexander didn’t get farther than Adam’s Peak. He didn’t find the cross.”

“But you’ve figured out what he didn’t.”

I slipped on wet stone. Matt’s arms caught mine. Hooded amber eyes caught mine. I pulled back.

“You stop?” our tiny guide said cheerfully. “We’re near,
Memsahib
.”

“You heard him,
Memsahib
. No stops,” said Matt.

“That’s not what he said.” I groaned and rubbed my thighs. Already strained from the climb up Adam’s Peak, they throbbed in pain.

Matt tugged me forward. “If you want me to tell you any more, you’ll come.”

I grabbed his bag again with a harrumph. “It better be earth-shattering.”

“I’ll leave that to my brother,” Matt retorted. He resumed the climb. “Alexander should have stopped to listen to the local legends a little more. In the epic Ramayana, King Rawana of Lanka kidnapped Prince Rama’s bride, Seetha. King Rawana’s ten heads signified his knowledge of the Vedas as well as magic and celestial events. Because of this, he was given the nectar of immortality by the creator god, Brahma. When Hanuman, the monkey god and agent of Rama, discovered Seetha at Ashok Vatica, Rawana’s grand palace near our hotel in Nuwara Eliya, Rawana had to escape with the princess. Rawana flew Seetha on a winged chariot to these secret caves. The caves serve as endpoints of a man-made tunnel system built inside these mountains.”

“Built by Rawana?”

“No one knows. The tunnels are said to hold many secrets, including Rawana’s tomb.”

“Rawana. The master of celestial events and holder of the nectar of immortality lies in these caves.”

“It gets better,” Matt said. “Lord Shiva, the god of destruction, gave Rawana a divine sword much like Excalibur. Prince Rama the avatar of Lord Vishnu, the maintainer god, used a bow and arrow to dislodge the nectar. I believe Rawana’s tomb is not here but his body was taken here and sent elsewhere. I sent Bors, Perceval, and Galahad after Bran of Pellam. We know Pellam died on the mermaid island. The stories say while Bors and Perceval made it back to Camelot, Galahad found the Cup and became desirous to leave in this world. Angels carried his body up into the gates of paradise. The place where the Healing Cup originated. I think Rawana’s body was taken to the same place.”

We reached the end of the steps. At the top, only a muddy path remained.

“I wait for you?” our guide asked.

Matt shook his head and paid him. The little boy quickly pocketed the bills. From the same pocket, he drew out a squashed red flower, handing it to me. “For you,
Memsahib
… Seetha’s flower for one as pretty as Seetha herself.”

I smiled and leaned down to take the offering. The smiling boy whispered loudly in my ear. “If the thin-lips
sahib
doesn’t want you, I’ll take you.” He flattened his lips, accurately mimicking Matt’s sour expression.

I let out a startled laugh and handed him a generous tip. While Matt scowled, the kid hurried off with a wave of his hand.

“Can we go anywhere without you charming the locals?” Matt groused.

“You’re just jealous, Thin-Lips.”

“Considering we’re about to go into a cave infamous for the supposed seduction of Seetha, you might want to reconsider before I feel challenged to defend my thin lips.”

“I’m sure you would rather kiss the gates of paradise,” I said dryly. “Do you want to tell me what this cave has to do with them?”

Matt walked up the hill to the entrance of the cave. “There have been many names attached to the gates of paradise. One is the Isle of the Blest.”

“Isle of the Blest?” I squeaked. “It’s practically required for anything with a name like the ‘Isle of the Blest’ to have a booby trap.”

Matt sighed. “It has other names. The Greeks called it the Elysium Fields, a sanctuary of healing, peace, and tranquility. Located past the River Lethe, the stream of oblivion and mortal life, it is the final resting place of all heroes. In yet another legend, a hero was brought to the island by the Lady of the Lake.”

“King Arthur?”

“I’m not sure I believe that one, but yes, after his death at Mt. Camlan.” With a grin, Matt gestured at the yawning mouth of a cave. “Arriane DuLac, I believe the Healing Cup lies in Avalon and the door to it lies in these caves.”

***

Two hours later, I sat down on a slab of barren rock. “Nope, no dead heroes, creepy demons, or supernatural gateways in sight. It’s just an ordinary cave.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled,” Matt commented.

The inside of the Rawana Ella Cave had an ordinary dirt floor, barren interior, and endless sloping rock. No writings. No treasure. No Healing Cup. Decently roomy, the front cave expanded to one hundred and fifty feet in length. Other openings, the size of small rooms, could be found here and there as offshoots of the main chamber.

A tunnel opened at the back of the cave. Matt used drops of a magical liquid to mark our trail and a floating orb to light the way. Not that I knew why we needed magic for this. A rope would have worked (Theseus used a plain string to get out of the maze when he went after the Minotaur), and I would have been more comfortable wearing hard hats with head torches.

The tunnel didn’t lead us far. Over time, the rocks shifted to block the networked passage. I looked up at the slanted ceiling and inhaled damp dirt and moss. I wondered about my own Minotaur. Was Vane really trailing us as Matt thought?

Matt threw a vial of green potion against a random wall. The hollow chamber shuddered as he blasted a small hole. Rock fragments fell from the ceiling and smacked me on the head.

“Merlin!” I brushed rock bits off my head. “Are you trying to kill us?”

“The dampness has to be coming from somewhere, but the cave just drops off here.” He huffed in frustration and drew out a guidebook. “All of these caves around the mountain were supposedly interconnected at one point.”

“Don’t you have a map? Like one that tells us where to go?”

“I meant to get one from the government, but after Robin, I don’t want to contact anyone. Surprisingly, none were marked ‘X’ for Avalon.”

I marched over to him. “You make a terrible pirate.”

He flipped through the guidebook. “I’m better at magic—if I had any.”

“Poor you,” I snapped. “Forced to use ingenuity instead of your easy button. Why don’t you tell me exactly why you brought us to this tunnel? Or is that still a big secret?”

“The tunnels lead off into the various places in the kingdom… or they all lead into one place. There are several openings. We’re in Rawana Ella Cave. Then, there’s Isthripur Cave at Welimada, Senapitiya Cave at Halagala, Ramboda—”

“So why this one?” I interrupted him.

“Rawana came here first with Seetha after Ashok Vatica. It makes sense he would take her to the place he considered the safest.” He mumbled under his breath, “And this was the closest to Adam’s Peak.”

I grabbed the guidebook from his hand. The pages were open to a section marked “Exploring the Epic Journey of the Ramayana.” I skimmed over the passage detailing Rawana’s hiding of the kidnapped Princess Seetha in the mountain gardens of Ashok Vatica. After Hanuman, the monkey god, discovered her at the gardens, Rawana took her in a flying chariot to the caves we stood inside. The caves across Lanka connected to the same tunnel network. I turned the page.

The Rawana Caves were built inside Rawana Ella Rock. On the other side lay a pool where the princess bathed under a wondrous waterfall. The picture of the Rawana Ella Falls caused my heart to speed up.

“When are you going to figure out you can’t do this alone?” I turned the book around to Matt, my thumb on a picture of the falls. “We’re on the wrong side, oh wise one. I’ve seen this before in the vision Vane had.”

Two hours later, we stood on a road that ran directly in front of the falls. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. Clouds covered the late afternoon sky, chilling the air. It took us awhile to go back out of the winding cave and down through terraced gardens to get to the falls. I leaned my elbows on steel railings at the edge of the road.

“During the wet season,” read Matt from the guidebook, “the waterfall is one of the widest in the country. It resembles an upside-down areca flower with drooping petals—”

“Looks like a palm tree to me.” My eye caught one of many pins on my bag of a Buddha, sitting on top of a lotus flower. I pointed to it. “Or this.”

Matt gave me a withering gaze. “If you keep arguing with me, we’re never going to make it through this.”

“I’m arguing because I know what you’re going to ask me to do.” The waterfall, nestled in a V-shaped crevice in the hill, cascaded from a rocky outcrop above and fell about a hundred feet down over tiered boulders. Green fronds, shrubs, and trees lined the perimeter past limestone bedrock. Water dropped into a pool at the waterfall’s base and trickled down onto more rock. Underneath the road where I stood, it became a mossy creek.

Despite threatening grey clouds and cold blustery wind, people stood knee-deep in the legendary pool where Seetha was supposed to have bathed. Against one boulder, level to the road, metal pipes had been installed above the pool to facilitate the flow of water and made a nice shower for bathing. A few women in wet sarongs held tin buckets.

As the blowing wind shifted to a full-on howl, everyone hurried out of the falls.

I played with the zipper of my jacket. “In Vane’s vision, we were on one of the ledges above the pool. That’s where you get knocked off and plunge to your death. Have you noticed your visions have a nasty habit of coming true?”

“Had.” Matt grabbed my hand to stop my fidgeting. “I don’t have them anymore.”

I resisted rolling my eyes. “What if you do go over the ledge? What then?”

“You can rescue me.” His hand tightened briefly before he released mine. “If you care to do so.”

If you care to do so.
In that accent of his, it sounded even more condescending. I ground my teeth. “How about I strangle you now and save myself the trouble?”

“It’s always been your choice.” Matt walked off toward the opening that led to the base of the waterfall.

Your choice.
The same words Vane said to me. I bit my lip until I felt the sharp sting of pain. For a second, the teetering edge of my control balanced. It didn’t last.

I forced my drooping shoulders to straighten. The rush of the water soothed the jagged edges inside a brittle soul. I hugged the sound deep into myself.

Monkeys hugged the railing just before it ended at a slanted, grassy area that led up to the right side of the waterfall. The pool stood several feet above road-level. I bought quartz stones from one of the street sellers that traversed the field. By the time I caught up to Matt, he was standing beside the pool. I looked up. On the side of the falls where we stood, tiered boulders stacked uphill like stepping-stones for a giant... or a monkey god who once stood at the top of this rock and scoured Rawana’s realm for a lost princess.