So, she used it, wrapping her sisters and their sorcerer in a web of gossamer tendrils, their arms pinned at their sides, and then she tossed them aside with a brush of her hand.

  When she saw Arthur, she laughed. She laughed at all of them. Their ridiculously weak men coming at her with their swords. She flung them aside, too.

  “Mordred,” she growled, in front of him, “you have chosen their side, I see.”

  “You know,” Sebastian said silkily, “I already killed the man who finished raising me, and I tried to kill my real father. Your odds are bad. I suggest you forget I’m your son.”

  She wanted to kill him. She wanted to smash him like a snail beneath her foot. But she couldn’t. Not her child. Her eyes slid to the woman behind him—and then to his father. She was too delighted that she had them all, all his children, including Mordred—under her power, to let her son’s hateful words affect her.

  “Which one of you should I kill first?”

  “Morgan,” Arthur ground out. “I’m going to end you.”

  She laughed. “You can’t even move, you fool. You are not going to do a thing but watch as I destroy everyone you love, beginning with your wife.”

  “No!” more than one of them screamed, proving the queen was well-loved.

  It made Morgan hate her even more. She pulled an arrow out of the air and threw it at Guinevere. She turned to Mordred’s woman next. She heard a sound behind her, the clink of metal against metal. She looked over her shoulder to find her arrow on the floor a foot away from Guinevere, and a savage-looking man standing in her defense. His sword was long and there was a hint of illumination to it. Who was he?

  The one she’d flung across the hall.

  She fired another burst of power at him, but he sliced at it and it burst into a dark vapor, no longer dangerous. She fired another. She tried an incantation to bind him, to blind him, to cook him from the inside out. He stopped every spell, breaking them apart, moving toward her as he swung.

  Who was he? How was he stopping her magic? Was he going to kill her? Could he? Well, first she would make Arthur pay for all this. She snapped her wrist and the son he had with his queen grasped his throat and fell to his knees.

  She was going to kill them all! Let her assailant stop all this! She waved her hand across the entire hall and everyone began to choke to death.

  But like a pesky insect, the man with the sword slashed and smashed her spells to pieces before anyone died.

  Oh! She’d had enough of him! She produced ropes and wound them around everyone’s necks at the same time.

  They were dying. Some stopped writhing. A woman screamed mournfully. Guinevere. Morgan smiled.

  And then she stopped, and everyone fell loose when Morgan felt the cold blade going through her warm body. She felt every inch of it. He was trying to reach her heart.

  But it stopped short.

  “Brother,” she heard Fin’s voice above her, “withdraw or I will kill your wife.”

  He held a bow, arrow nocked, and aimed at the king’s daughter, Camelee. Morgan smiled at him. Yes, kill the one named after his beloved home.

  “Fin!” his brother shouted. “What are doing? You are under her spell.”

  Fin pulled back the string.

  “Please, Brother! Look at me!”

  Fin did. “I’m going to kill her.”

  It didn’t work! Noooo! The sword plunged deeper, piercing her heart, ending her spells.

  Fin dropped his weapon and covered his face with his hands.

  Wolf pulled him into a tight embrace and then yanked his sword from Morgan’s body.

  “Is anyone hurt?” he called out.

  “You killed her,” Arthur said with awe in his voice. “It’s really over.”

  “No,” Nim told them as a hush fell over the hall. “Her heart needs to be removed.”

  Morgan listened. Nimue was right. She wasn’t dead. She sat up and turned to Fin, her spell over him broken. Did she not fulfill his dreams? Was there nothing tender in him toward her? “Which one of you is cold enough to do it?”

  “I am,” her lover proclaimed and flung the sword at her.

  She caught it in her hand, blade first, ignoring the injury. But he was on her in seconds. He fell atop her and looked into her eyes. She cursed herself. Did she love this human savage?

  “Fin.”

  He pushed the metal inside her with all his weight. “Farewell, Witch.” His words were tender and familiar, not insulting.

  He cared. He wasn’t going to—

  The blade went through her heart. He stayed where he was and cut it out of her chest and held it up.

  The last thing Morgan heard before she was ended was a collective sigh of relief.

  *

  No one had to stay. They were free to leave Avalon and go back to their original century alone, or back with their loved ones to their century. They all chose to stay with their partners.

  Wolf vowed that he would help his wife grow accustomed to the rugged mountains of his home. He would make certain she was happy, and safe.

  Hild would be staying on in Avalon, with the queen and the sisters. She was happy there and would grow strong. Wolf and Camelee would always be there for her whenever she needed them.

  Fin swore his fealty to the queen and though he was not permitted to remain in Avalon, he would come to her side if ever she called upon him. He also swore to look after Alric and to teach him well.

  Kestrel and Nicholas promised to send word to the sisters when she gave birth.

  Michael and his sister didn’t want to part and Camelee swore she wouldn’t let them go unless the sisters promised to bring them together once every year. Maybe at Christmastime, she suggested.

  The sisters agreed and sent Michael and Charlotte, Nicholas and Kes home first.

  Sebastian took a bit of time leaving his father. It was clear to see that things were different between them.

  “I’m looking after everything in New York,” he told Arthur. “I will see you then, at Christmas.”

  “Yes,” the king agreed and pulled his son into a tight embrace. “Son of my youth. I’m sorry about your mother.”

  “Her end was her own doing, Father,” Sebastian said into his father’s neck. “I’m just thankful I didn’t kill you.”

  “So am I.”

  They laughed and Arthur patted his son’s shoulders. “You are strong, Sebastian. More than you were ever taught, for you resisted her power. Well done.”

  Sebastian pulled back and smiled, then nodded and returned to Noelle. He faced her and held their hands between them. And then they, too, were gone.

  “Ulf,” the king said, “I trust you with my daughter’s life.”

  Wolf bowed his head. The honor was too great to speak of. “I will never disappoint you, my lord.”

  The king and his wife and daughter smiled at him.

  “As a way of thanking you for saving those I love,” the king continued. “I will ask the sisters to grant you one thing, but remember, you can only have it here in Avalon.”

  Wolf nodded and looked down at the woman who burrowed her way under his skin and laid waste to his heart. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. Her smile widened and she nodded her approval.

  “We want a night of music and dancing. Slow music,” he added, remembering how his new family had danced with each other.

  “Fast music, too,” his wife corrected quickly and with a smile. “Some rock and roll. Don’t worry. You’ll love it. The louder the better.”

  He turned a worried look at her father. Had he chosen the wrong thing? He had anything to pick from, after all. He chose a night of music and dancing.

  And then Camelee smiled at him, and he knew whatever they chose would be perfect.

  Certainly, he would learn how to dance if it made his wife happy.

  Wasn’t that what husbands were supposed to do?

  The End

  About the Author

  Paula Quinn is a New York Times bestselling author and a sappy romantic moved by music, beautiful words, and the sight of a really nice pen. She lives in New York with her three beautiful children, six over-protective chihuahuas, and three adorable parrots. She loves to read romance and science fiction and has been writing since she was eleven. She’s a faithful believer in God and thanks Him daily for all the blessings in her life. She loves all things medieval, but it is her love for Scotland that pulls at her heartstrings.

  To date, four of her books have garnered Starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She has been nominated as Historical Storyteller of the Year by RT Book Reviews, and all the books in her MacGregor and Children of the Mist series have received Top Picks from RT Book Reviews. Her work has also been honored as Amazons Best of the Year in Romance, and in 2008 she won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for Historical Romance.

  Website:

  pa0854.wixsite.com/paulaquinn

 

 

  Quinn, Paula, The Warrior’s Echo

 

 

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