Read Air: Merlin's Chalice (The Children of Avalon Book 1) for Free Online Page A

bother to rise, my dear.”
    Grateful for his understanding, I said, “My name is Scai.”
    “Scai, eh?” he chuckled. “Appropriate, wot, wot?”
    “What?”
    “I said…er, never mind.” He laughed.
    I looked up at Sir Dagonet and couldn’t believe what this kindly old knight had encouraged me to do. The words inadvertently spilled from my mouth. “You’re a witch?”
    He looked horrified at the thought. “No, I most certainly am not! I am Vallen,” he said with pride.
    “You’re what?”
    “Vallen. We are a magical people, you and I.”
    “Me? I’m not... ‘Vallen’,” I said. My mind still hadn’t decided if this was all real or just some odd dream.
    “You most certainly are. You just did magic, did you not? And you’ve done so before.”
    I swallowed hard. What did he know? “I’m not a witch!”
    “Said you weren’t, didn’t I?” the old knight shook his head. “Vallen, that’s what you are.”
    “What’s the difference?”
    “Ah! Excellent question. A witch is someone who deals with herbs and potions and uses the magic created by them. Vallen are magical from within.”
    “Oh.” Oddly enough, that made sense to me.
    “Anyone can learn to be a witch. Vallen are born with magic, wot, wot?”
    “And you’re Vallen?”
    He nodded. “And so are you.”
    “How do you know? Can you tell just by looking at someone?”
    The old man laughed. “Oh no. Only the most powerful, and well, I suppose not even them, don’t you know?”
    “Then how did you know that I was… one?”
    “Oh, well… er, ha!” The man began to laugh. “Feeling better, wot?”
    “What?”
    “Exactly so!”
    My mind was still feeling a bit muddled. I needed to understand this better. “So if you’re not a witch…”
    “Most certainly not!” the man interjected.
    “Then you’re not afraid of being burned at the stake or swum?”
    “Oh, er, that. Well, no, not really,” he admitted.
    “Why not? Anyone could easily mistake you for a witch, couldn’t they?”
    “Yes, yes, they could. But, well, I’m rather old, don’t you know. I don’t think they’d burn an old man like myself, wot?”
    “Oh.” I thought about that. It did make sense. They wouldn’t kill an old man—they’d probably have a hard time believing he was a witch or Vallen or whatever. “I wish I were in the same position.”
    “What? Being old? It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be,” the knight said, pursing out his lips and huffing a little.
    I laughed. This man was funny. But then my very real fears shouldered their way to the front of my mind again. “No. I meant that I wish I didn’t have to worry about being burned at the stake.”
    “Oh! Yes, er, well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much, honestly.”
    “Why shouldn’t I?”
    “Oh, er, I don’t know, really.”
    Well, at least he was honest, if not entirely reassuring.
    “But still,” he went on, “you shouldn’t worry about it. You just be the best Vallen you can be and you leave all that worrying to… er, well, to others, wot?”
    I couldn’t help but laugh again. “But I’m not actually Vallen…”
    “Not Vallen? I’m sorry? Didn’t you see what you just did?” he said, pulling at his sword to remind me that I had just removed it from the tree using only my mind.
    My face grew warm. “I… I honestly don’t know how I did that. Or, even if I really did do that.”
    “What?”
    “Well, my eyes were closed,” I began to explain. I really didn’t want to be Vallen or a witch—and not only because I would be burned at the stake if anyone were to find out. Being magical was… different. Frightening.
    Sir Dagonet just looked at me with complete disbelief. “Oh, my dear, if you only knew. If you only knew how powerful you were.”
    A cool wind tugged at my hair. I pulled my shawl closer around my shoulders. “But…”
    “No, no. Let’s not stand here talking of this anymore. We’ve got to get moving. What? Oh, yes, get moving! Can’t