Meeting of Two Worlds.

Her little cottage off the beaten track, so to speak, the knights were out back taking advantage of the sunny autumn day to train and exercise their mounts. Meagan sat in her library, behind her desk, which was now piled high with opened books, and a rather harried look upon her face. Every pagan book she had was opened on any flat surface in her library. Some were on the floor, in stacks or opened to pages that would have any minute similarity to what was going on, and to the shadows.

Absently she chewed on a pencil, the tip where the eraser had once been now split and uneven. Her hair was piled up loosely, a clip holding it in place, though long strands fell here and there as though she had hurriedly pinned her hair up with no thought to it at all. Her clothes were mismatched, and the shirt buttoned wrong. She mumbled to herself, moved to another book, took notes, scratched them out, and then mumbled some more.

Arthur paused a step inside the room. His gaze swept over the dozens of opened books, the empty spots upon the shelves where the books had been placed before today, and then upon the woman who stood behind the desk. He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. Did she realize how frumpy she looked? She reminded him of the scholars from Rome, the men who had ink smudges upon their faces and their clothes in disarray. They would forget to eat and comb their hair were they so intent upon their scrolls and notes.

“Goddess!” Lancelot came to a halt. “Meagan, were you attacked?”

Blinking in surprise she glanced up just as Arthur quipped, “No, I believe she did the attacking.”

Meagan blinked once more, and looked about. The sun was at an angle outside the window, and she realized it was on a downward arc. “Oh my! What time is it?”

“Mid afternoon,” Lancelot announced. “We are debating hunting a cow from the pasture nearby for dinner.”

Blanching she shook her head. “Goddess, no! You can’t just go killing things in this world.” When they both looked at her she rolled her eyes. “Those are milk cows, and belong to a man down the road. If you’re hungry I can easily cook.”

Arthur was glancing at some of the books littering the library. “Any luck finding what is needed to destroy the shadows and return us to our world?”

“Some.” She began to explain to him what she had found out so far, going into detail.

Lancelot rolled his eyes, and went to the window. “Oh, look. Tristan and Dagonet are going to kill a cow…” He chuckled as Meagan raced out of the room and out the cottage to shout at the knights. When Arthur frowned he arched a brow. “She would talk all day and we would starve.”

Arthur motioned towards the door, knowing his best friend was right. “Still. She is doing what she can to aid us.”

“You mean when she is not warming Galahad’s…”

“Lancelot…” The warning was enough, but the other knight still snorted in derision and went to wash his hands. Arthur watched Meagan herd the knights into the house. Not even Galahad’s charming smiles and eager hands deterred her from getting them inside the cottage.

“Suddenly I miss Vanora,” Bors quipped as a bossy and grumpy Meagan pushed them inside.
……………………………

Before the sun was set Meagan was outside. Arthur stood at the window watching her. She drew a large circle about the cottage with salt. She also placed herbs and apples down about the circle. Standing within she held the point of a dagger up to the heavens, and spoke, though he heard her not. She then lowered the point and used it to trace the entire circle.

“The sun is nearly set,” Dagonet announced.

Blinking Arthur realized the knight was correct. Moving to the door he opened it, and stepped out. After one step he came up against a barrier, and stumbled back at the shock of hitting it. Before him stood Meagan, on the outside of the circle, and his heart thudded loudly and painfully. “What do you mean by this?” he demanded.

“Answers must be found,” she told him.

Galahad ran out, crashing into the barrier. “Meagan! No!”

She stepped further away to another circle. Within it were her mortar and pestle, candles, herbs, and anything else she would need. First she drew a circle, and then knelt and lit the candles. She sprinkled herbs into a metal bowl, dropped in little snippets of hair from each knight she had taken from them with their permission with the excuse of making protective charms, and then lifted a hand and with a small sharp knife drew blood from her palm. Tilting her hand she let droplets fall into the bowl, and before wrapping a cloth about her hand she used some of her own blood to paint symbols of protection on her face. Finally she tilted a candle over the bowl to let wax fall into the bowl. Using the ceremonial athame she mixed it before dropping a lit match into the bowl. As it flamed she lifted her palms and face to the dark sky and spoke.

“I am earth. I carry the seed and birth that which grows.” Her head fell back, her face lifted to the heavens. “Though water, fire, and air are not present, I beg you, Mother Goddess, to gift me with the power needed for what I must do.” Holding the athame point up to the sky she let her head fall back. “So mote it be!” She stabbed the blade into the bowl, and the contents erupted.

Galahad battered at the barrier, shouting and calling to her. Gawain finally drew him back. “It is no good. We cannot reach her.”

Lowering her head Meagan opened eyes that sparkled with blue and white lights. “Through my veins runs the blood of ages of Children of the Old Ways to the Goddess Herself and the children she bore. With her power do I call the shadows before me.” She did not move. She did not have to. Three shadows rippled out of the darker ones that the night cast. They converged about her, wispy and malevolent. “Germanus! You have been named. Show yourself.”

Germanus sneered as he appeared in human form.

“Show yourselves!” she commanded to the others, the energy crackling from her eyes and sparking up from the bowl. The sparks raced about the remaining two shadows, making them writhe and scream until they took human form.

“Do you know them?” Bors asked Arthur.

The commander shook his head. “I do not.”

Meagan turned her face towards one. “Cynric, son of Cerdric. I name you.” Those crackling eyes turned to the other man. “Cerdric, son of Baemon, I name you.”

“You have no right to call us forward,” Cynric snarled. His father eyed her carefully. “Pitiful mortal, you have no power over us.”

“Do not mistake this body for the spirit within it,” Meagan coldly replied. “It is but a vessel for my greatness. A power you could never aspire to equal. Your world is not this world. You will return to your world, or be destroyed.”

“None can destroy us,” Germanus retorted. “None could destroy us even in the other world.”

“Too long have you strayed from the bowels of the fiery pit you were condemned to,” Meagan retorted. “No longer.”

“Goddess!” hissed more than one knight as shadows lifted from the ground, growing into misshapen form and racing at the three men. The men howled, shouted, and screamed. They struggled, but to no avail.

A man rose from the ground, towering above normal men, and dressed in a hooded cloak and carrying a candle. Meagan glanced towards him. “Arawn, you let these creatures wander for too long.”

“They do not belong to me,” he replied. “They belong to Rome and the Norse. I will take them, and they will suffer for not being in their own worlds.” One long thin hand went through the flame of the candle, making it flicker and grow. It snaked out, engulfing the misshapen forms and the three men. Once their screams died away the flames did also. Arawn gave a small bow, turned, and sank into the earth.

The night was silent. The blue and white energy within Meagan rose above her, moved over before her, and coalesced into a tall beautiful woman in sheer green gown covered in vines and leaves. Vines and leaves were in her red hair. “Your price.”

Meagan blinked, and swallowed hard. “Gladly will I pay it. Anu, Mother Goddess, I would say goodbye to him.”

The barrier about the cottage disappeared, and Galahad tore from Gawain’s hold and ran to Meagan. Falling to his knees by her he drew her near. “Meagan! Goddess, what did you do?” Warily he glanced up at the Goddess that stood over them.

Meagan touched his cheek and made him look at her. “What I had to do. The shadows are gone, and you will return to your world.”

Swallowing hard he shook his head. “But at what price? I do not want to leave you, Meagan. I would stay here with you.”

“This is not your world,” she whispered. “You are a knight. You should be with the others, and in your world where you’d be happier.”

“I would be happier with you in my arms,” he told her. Shaking his head he repeated. “I will stay here with you.”

“But I won’t be here,” she told him. Before he could say anything she kissed him deeply, and had to break the kiss when a sob choked her. “Now, Anu.”

Galahad shook her. “Meagan,” he warned. She sighed, fell against him, and he froze. “Meagan?” Shaking her he cried out when she fell back, lifeless. “Meagan! No! No, do not do this! You have no right!”

“Her price was her life,” Anu announced as the other knights neared warily. “It cannot be undone. And now to return you to your world.”

“No! Wait!” Galahad threw up both hands. Swallowing hard he blinked away the sheen of tears. “I beg you, do not take her from me. I would die.”

“Galahad,” Anu smiled amusedly. “You are already dead.”

“My soul would die,” he told her. “Goddess, I would give anything to have her back.”

“A bargain was cast, and the price paid,” Anu announced. “I am sorry, Galahad.” Waving her arm she set the world to shivering, and when it halted the familiar sights and sounds of the outdoor tavern where they often took drink and ate surrounded the knights.