P.C. Cast - Goddess of Legend

Her focus, as her chest squeezed painfully, was all of the things she hadn’t accomplished yet. How could she have forgotten how much more she wanted out of life? The big one was that she’d never found love. Lust, sure. Attraction, sure. But not that elusive thing called true love. To look at a man and know, absolutely, they were meant for each other.

There were many others on her list, but she sure would have liked to experience the feeling of being desperately in love.

Woulda. Coulda. Shoulda.

And then, suddenly, she felt alive again. And she knew, just knew, that somehow, someway, she was being given a second chance.

“WOULD be best if you’d awake, Isabel.”

“Just one more hour,” Isabel murmured.

“I understand the need to nap. You’ve had a long journey,” Viviane said, giving Isabel a shake. You are my hope . “We must needs to begin this mission right away. I need my Merlin.”

When her new hope just moaned, turned over and said, “Coffee,” Viviane felt exasperation roil inside of her. “Awake your sorry . . . person, now! But not for me you would not be here lazing and making demands. Double-cream chocolate cappuccino, yes?”

Her hope roused instantly, brushing the lush golden hair from her face. “Oh, yes, please. Where am I? Did you save me? I thank you so much. There were so many shoulda—”

“—woulda, couldas, yes, I’m well aware.” Viviane snapped her fingers and a large silver stein of coffee appeared out of the mist. “Drink first. Then we shall talk.”

The beautiful woman stared at her but took the stein from her hand and sipped. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, then peered down into the cup. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had. How did you—”

“I learned quickly how to brew while visiting your time.”

“My time?”

“As I said, we have much to discuss.”

Isabel knew that she was either in heaven, because the coffee said so, or she was in hell, because the woman in front of her was so ethereally beautiful, she had to be the devil in disguise.

Then again, she wasn’t much into heaven and hell, but she knew a damn good cup of coffee when she tasted one. And it was waking her up fast, which was a good sign that it wasn’t decaf.

She looked around. She was sitting by a lake, but it definitely wasn’t Grand Lake. The flora and fauna were all out of whack. The misty fog that hovered over the water was shimmery, unlike anything she’d ever experienced there. Not to mention there wasn’t an electric pole or sign of civilization in sight.

And then she noticed her attire. Most definitely not what she’d almost died in. She was dressed in a jade green gown, long-sleeved, yet the sleeves stopped short of her shoulders and flared out at the wrists. The bodice was square and offered a view of cleavage she was most definitely not used to displaying. It was a beautiful gown to be sure, in fact it would make a thumbs-up on any red carpet, but it wasn’t hers.

“What is going on here?” she asked. “Where am I, how’d I get here, and who in hell are you?”

The woman smiled, again snapped her fingers, and while Isabel ogled, her silver mug refilled itself with the wonderful smelling coffee.

“I assure you, we, you, are not in hell.”

“Then where am I? You? Us? And why haven’t I ever photographed you, because you have to be the most excruciatingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen them all.” She sipped again, the delicious brew in her silver . . . chalice? “What’s the deal?”

“I’ve chosen you, Isabel, for a very special, very important mission.”

“I’d be flattered if I weren’t so spooked. And I’d run screaming if you didn’t conjure one helluva great cup of coffee.”

“Are you hungry as well? The Fates tell me you are partial to pastries. Some things called beignets.”

The woman went to do that snap thing again, but Isabel stopped her. “Much as I appreciate that, before you do that out-of-thin-air thing again, may I ask a few questions?”

“You deserve to have all of your questions answered.”

Isabel took that as a yes. “Were you the one who saved me?”

“Yes.”

“How? As soon as I hit the water and couldn’t get free, I knew I was in trouble.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, wiggled the toes encased in silver slippers. “All better, just like that. I was a goner for sure. And then I got this feeling of, I don’t know, a second chance.”

“Goner? You were, I think I’d say, a finder. And yes, this is another chance to fulfill some desires.”

“Well, that clears things up.” Isabel glanced around at the lush greenery, at the dense forest beyond this rocky beach. “We’re not in Oklahoma anymore, are we, Toto?”

“Toto?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as a slight. You seem to know my name and other kinds of creepy things about me. May I ask what your name is?”

“I’m known as Coventina. But you may call me—”

“As in the Lady of the Lake Coventina? As in the mythical Goddess of Water?”

The woman shined with a triumphant smile. “So you have heard of me in your times! Merlin assured me I’m but a long-lost myth.”

Isabel sat stunned. The shimmer that surrounded the Lady, her long, golden hair, the blue eyes that seemed to reflect the purity of the lake behind them. “You’re kidding, right? Am I being punked?” She glanced around. “Where are the cameras? You’ve done a great job of hiding them, because I can spot and smell one from a mile away.”

“I assure you, I am indeed Coventina. And none of those camera things exist, not in my knowledge.”

“I’d love that beignet now. And may I have them drizzled with—”

“—dark chocolate. Of course.” That snap thing again, and then Isabel was staring at a feast. The beignets, yes, just the way she wanted them, but also fried ham, over-easy fried eggs and potatoes with onions, peppers and bits of bacon, just how she cooked them herself. This was too good. Too perfect. Too crazy.

Then again, she was too hungry to actually be rude enough to decline.

“Do you mind if I’m freaked out?” Isabel said after licking her fingers? She started to get to her feet. That’s when she noticed that, with a wave of the woman’s hand, her slippers became glued to the earth beneath her. She tried to free herself from them, but they were definitely superglued to her skin as well.

“Please hear me out,” said the woman who, if the tales were true, didn’t really need to ask.

Isabel sat back down. “You’ll excuse me if I’m just a little . . . dumbfounded?”

“I understand.”

“You saved me from Grand Lake.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I have need of you. And I have hopes that this will all turn out so that one of your—how did you put it?—shouldas will also come true for you.”

“I’m alive. I’m not just in another world?”

“Oh, I am afraid you are definitely in another world. But it’s of this world, Isabel. Just not of your time.”

“Where am I?”

“If you’ve been taught about me, you’ve been taught about Camelot?”

Isabel again just stared at her. “Surely you jest.”

Coventina laughed, a sound that was so lyrical that even the lake seemed to respond to it. The lake bubbled here and there as if something beneath couldn’t help but enjoy the joke with her. “I enjoy a good jest, as do many of the men and women of the castle. But I assure you, beyond this forest is the castle of Camelot.”

“You mean like King Arthur and Lancelot and Guinevere and Mer—Oh. He really is your Merlin.”