Descendants of Avalon: Awakening Series, #1

By J. Lynn Else

Genie's parents are divorcing. Her friends suggest making a wish at the old town fountain.  She thinks its ridiculous, but what could it hurt, right?

Turns out it could hurt a lot.

After Beth is kidnapped, Genie and the rest of her friends must follow her into the magical world of Avalon.  There they meet the knights of the round table and other legendary members of the Arthurian legends they thought were just stories.  Together with their new friends, the girls set out to save Beth and keep Earth from being taken over by the evil sorcerer.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inklings Publishing
• Release date: Apr 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781944428891

J. Lynn Else

J. LYNN ELSE loves reading and writing about awesome women from antiquity. Besides history, she also gets nerdy with Star Wars, Star Trek, and MST3K. J. Lynn’s always had a flare for the dramatic, graduating college with a theater major and a dance minor. She’s self-published two historical fiction novels set in ancient Egypt, The Forgotten: Aten’s Last Queen and The Forgotten: Heir of the Heretic. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two kids where her shelves are overrun with books, her kitchen is overrun with loose-leaf tea, and her workroom is overrun with Funko Pop figures. She enjoys sketching, reliving her 1990s by watching the latest X-Files episodes, honing her Fruit Ninja skills, and randomly busting out into song and dance. She believes in unicorns and practicing random acts of awesome

Book preview

Awakenings Series Book 1

Descendants

Of Avalon

J. Lynn Else

Descendants of Avalon

Copyright © 2018 by J. Lynn Else

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Copyedited by Julian Kindred and D Tinker Editing

Formatted by Manon Lavoie

Cover Design by Verstandt

ISBN: 978-1-944428-90-7

by Inklings Publishing http://inklingspublishing.com

First US Edition

Printed in the United States of America

22 21 20 19 18 1 2 3 4 5

Dedication

For Ben

The Tristan to my Isolde,

no love potion required.

Foreword

Camelot is the castle and court associated with King Arthur. Generally thought to be located in Great Britain, its precise location has never been identified. While many scholars believe Camelot to be a fictional place, Arthurian scholar Norris J. Lacy once commented, Camelot, located nowhere in particular, can be anywhere.

Chapter One

Genie

We’re getting a divorce. I repeated the four words Mother had used to shatter my morning. All day, the words had been lodged in my throat like shards of broken glass. Now they pierced my heart. My emotions threatened to bleed out in the middle of the school cafeteria as I shared the news.

Slack-jawed, my trio of friends stared at me for what felt like an eternity. Mei was the first to speak up. But your mom was kidding, right? It’s all a joke or something.

If only, I thought, shaking my head. My mother’s words had replayed inside my mind during my first four classes. After dropping the divorce bomb in between my bites of Fruity Pebbles, Mom had tried to explain how things would change. But I hadn’t been able to listen. I’d run upstairs to my room and stayed there until it was time to leave for school.

I poked at the cafeteria food. My fork made a gross sucking sound in the potatoes, causing my appetite to retreat in fear. Now I missed the morning bowl of fruity deliciousness I’d left half-eaten. My stomach gurgled, but I ignored it. The cafeteria chicken nuggets tasted bland, like my hopelessness.

What did you say? Beth asked after a moment’s silence. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had beautiful brown skin, a gift of her Native American heritage, and her soft features brightened as she gave me an encouraging nod to continue.

A shrug was my only response. Sure, my parents fought a lot, but wasn’t that the norm? Everybody’s parents fought. It was something that happened to adults after getting married. I’d never once thought it would lead to an end for our family.

Stop! I can’t be thinking of this in the middle of the cafeteria. Unless I want to start bawling in front of everyone!

I focused my thoughts on the analytical, on the other girls whose parents were divorced already. The kids who hardly ever saw one parent, who had had to move into a smaller house, sometimes into the trailer park a block down from our high school, and who almost never wore new clothes again. Wonderful.

You could ask why, Whit said gently, her cornflower-blue eyes squinting. They did that when she was weighing different options in her mind, probably trying to figure out where things had gone wrong. But she didn’t know how much my parents yelled. Mom and Dad always plastered a smile on their faces when we were out of the house.

How could I tell my friends the truth? I knew the why, and it was me. It was all my fault, and I had to make it right.

So your dad was already gone? Mei poked at me with her plastic knife to get my attention. She knew all too well what I’d be going through—what happened when a parent moved out and left you behind. Her almond-shaped eyes held me in a way only a supportive friend’s could.

The door slammed, but I figured he was expecting a tough client at work, I answered flatly, keeping the emotions buried in my gut.

There’s only one solution for something this serious, Whit said after swallowing a forkful of potatoes. The wishing fountain.

Now it was my turn to stare, slack-jawed. You’re joking, right?

Excitement drove Whit’s words like a race car driver. Remember Alexis? Her parents were divorced. She went to the fountain, made her wish, and they got back together.

Whit was the dreamer of our group and loved stories involving fantasies and fairytales. It would take the other three of us to reel in this flight of fancy. Her expression told me the plane was already on the runway and ready for takeoff.

Yeah, but Alexis’s parents separated again, I reminded her, looking to my other friends for support.

Whit adjusted a barrette in her blonde hair. "That’s not the point. The wish worked! It brought her parents back together."

It was just a wish. What power is there behind a simple wish? I responded, somewhat irritated by Whit’s enthusiasm. A wish couldn’t bring back the fun my parents once had at swing dance clubs. It couldn’t erase the fall that tore up Mom’s knee tendons, making it too painful for her to swing dance anymore—the fall that was my fault.

Come on, Genie, would it really hurt to try? Whit’s eyes became large and round.

We’ll all go with you, Beth said, turning toward me. After school, we’ll walk over to the park together.

Seriously? I asked her.

Why not? Mei chimed in, her voice sugary sweet. Anyone have some change to use?

I leaned over to Mei. I have a feeling you’re agreeing just to irritate me. Kicking a girl while she’s down, huh?

Mei flashed a bright smile and whispered back, Why not have a little adventure? Besides, Whit needs this. She hasn’t heard from her brother in a while and has been really depressed this week.

She was right. I could give an inch or two and grant her request. Twirling a strand of brown hair between my fingers, I relented. Sure, let’s do it.

Beth rooted around in her pockets. I’ve got some coins, one for each of us.

And we could all make the wish together, Whit added eagerly. More wishes mean a greater chance for success! she added, clapping her hands quietly to herself.

It’s settled, then, Beth confirmed.

The five-minute warning bell rang. We picked up our binders and food trays.

Shall we meet outside by the panther statue? Mei suggested. Then walk over together?

The panther was our school’s mascot. I remembered walking by the statue with my parents and sticking my head in the cat’s mouth while pretending to be scared. It used to make all of us laugh.

Dang it! That errant thought left mist in my eyes. I blinked rapidly to clear them while dumping food off my tray.

It can’t be too long an ordeal, though, I said. "I have movie plans to see Fairy at Dawn with my par—with my mom, I guess."

Mei spun around to face me. Her straight black hair swung behind her shoulders. Oh, come on! You really want to go to the movies?

Trust us, Genie; it’ll be quick, Beth added as we stacked our trays and headed out the door. We’ll make the wish and go. If your mom still plans to take you, you’ll get home in plenty of time.

And why would you want to see that fairy movie anyway? Mei called back while striding off to her next class. I heard the book was better.

Deny it all you want, I called to her, but I know you’ve read it and want to go too!

Whit stepped up next to me. Beth stood at my other side. Sometimes Mei’s clipped comments were off-putting, but I knew she meant well. Her parents had separated a long time ago, and she didn’t hold onto dreams anymore. Sometimes she lashed out, but I knew it was because she missed her mom. Soon, that would be me. My shoulders slumped.

Well, I believe in fairies, especially movies about fairies, Whit said. I’ll take you to the movie myself if you need to go with someone.

You only want to see it because of that actor, I commented as we walked to our next period. Chris what’s-his-name, the one you’re totally crushing on—he’s starring in it. He’s the reason you want to go. Not because you believe in fairies.

Didn’t I tell you? We’re madly in love, and we’re going to be married one day, she said with a dramatic sigh. Her blonde curls bounced as she spun into a different hallway.

Beth and I turned to our right and entered the World History room.

Did you want to meet for doughnuts on Saturday? Beth asked as we took our seats.

It sounds fun, if I can. I’m not sure what will be going on in our house in a few days. Is it even okay to go out and have fun while my parents are getting a divorce? As soon as I spoke the question aloud, I regretted the words.

Beth shrugged casually. Getting an iced latte with whipped cream and caramel would be my suggestion for something like that.

I smiled sheepishly. Recalling Beth’s home life, I should have known better than to mention divorce. Her parents were the poster couple for a pro-divorce campaign. Her dad was almost constantly moving in and out. He gambled away most of their money. Beth’s family had even lost their house to his addiction. My mom would sometimes bring them hot dishes when Beth’s deadbeat dad left town to seek his fortune at Treasure Island. Beth’s mom always welcomed him back, leaving my friend in a terrible situation—total disappointment with both her parents.

If I wasn’t careful, I’d lose my parents and one of my best friends with my ill-timed words. I made up my mind: Doughnuts and lattes were a perfect Saturday activity. Nothing would stop me from getting whipped-cream moustaches with Beth.

Chapter Two

Genie

This was crazy. Four high schoolers throwing coins in a fountain? It wasn’t even an impressive-looking fountain, so the air of magic for this wishing quest was sorely missing. The decorations were cracked, and the drains were rusted. The rust even flaked off into the water, giving it a slightly orange hue. Not instilling me with much hope.

I remembered the big ceremony our mayor had held when the fountain arrived five years ago. It had been donated by a wealthy and anonymous entrepreneur from Minneapolis who thought the thing fit with the charm of our small town. The donation had come with a note, adding a hint of mystery to the gift: Any who wish with all their hearts will discover their innermost desire. This was also carved on the foundation stones.

Frankly, many of us believed someone had found the old, unattractive fountain and generously given it away to the nearest hick town they could find. Before the fountain, the park had contained a cheap-looking war memorial, which was relocated next to the interstate Pump and Munch rest stop. A few military jeeps were added for photo-op appeal in hopes of attracting tourists on their way north to Lake Superior.

Maybe I should keep looking at things practically. Perhaps instead of swing dance, my parents could learn ballroom. Something slow and easy, like one of those styles on the show about celebrities dancing with ballroom professionals. Mom watched it and always criticized them heavily. Look at those stiff arms. Ugh! His shoulders are hunched. Straighten up! Soften those hips and sink into the plié! She was a bit of a dance snob. Maybe I’d suggest the idea to her during next week’s season finale: ballroom dancing with Dad. That plan made much more sense over what my friends and I were about to do.

Still . . . thinking about it, what could a simple wish hurt? Though throwing up a prayer certainly wouldn’t hurt, either. Dear Lord, please don’t let a hot senior walk by and catch us doing this!

The fountain’s square was mostly empty. Some elementary kids were running around on the playground equipment before finishing their after-school walk home. Only a few joggers passed. It didn’t look like it would be too embarrassing as there were few people around to witness what we were doing. No one from school was in sight. Well, that was a good sign. Prayer answered!

Whit excitedly took a couple of steps closer to the fountain. Wow! It’s, like, bunches cooler over here.

Mei sighed loudly. Yes!

I wiped my brow. The humidity disappears by this fountain. We should hang out here all summer!

Let’s get our wishing on. Beth began handing out the coins. Her glossy black hair shimmered in the sunlight.

I looked at the quarter in my hand. It had the state of Wisconsin on the back. Taking in a slow breath, I thought about the best way to word my wish.

Mei rolled her brown eyes at Beth. A penny?

Sorry, it’s all I’ve got. Beth’s voice was laced with frustration. Genie gets the biggest one. We’re just her supporting cast.

Mei was the most vocal of our group. However, Beth was a natural at taking charge, so Mei usually left the decisions to her while occasionally adding uninvited opinions into the mix.

Looking thrilled, Whit exclaimed, Let’s do it on the count of three! She acted as if she had found a magic wand in her hand instead of a dime.

Everyone together? Mei asked.

Whit gently bumped her shoulder against mine, as if she could infuse me with a portion of her jolliness. Yes! It feels more magical that way!

Works for me, Beth agreed. Everyone wish for Genie’s parents to get back together, all right?

Mei asked, So, do we say it out loud or think it? She got a dirty look from Beth and added, I just want to do it right. If we’re counting down, we should at least know how we’re going to say it!

Embarrassed, I responded with Just say it in your head, guys.

This was getting to be too much of an ordeal, and I was beginning to feel stupid again. There was nothing magical about this anymore. I was tempted to walk away and say forget it, but Whit was so excited.

Reluctantly, I said, I’m ready.

Whit, why don’t you count us down? Beth suggested.

Great! Whit flipped her blond hair back behind her shoulders and closed her eyes. Her face scrunched in concentration. We all took her cue and began to think of our wishes.

I began to think of all the fun times I’d had with my parents. I remembered the laughing, the dancing, the snuggling, Christmases, Thanksgivings, Fourth of July celebrations, my birthdays. I tried to call up every moment we were happy as a family from my memory bank. When I had a large enough collection withdrawn, I poured them out from my heart and wished with everything inside me to save my parents’ happiness. Please let them be happy again!

Whit’s voice cut into my thoughts. One.

An image of my mother laughing in front of the Christmas tree replayed itself. She opened a gift from my dad, which made her laugh. Some inside joke they had shared from before I was born. The joy reached her eyes and crinkled the corners.

Two.

I could see Dad wrapping his arms around Mom. They were singing happy birthday to me. A friend in kindergarten had told me we were no longer friends, so I’d been upset all afternoon. To cheer me, my parents danced around the table like drunken sailors. It was so silly that my five-year-old self giggled. Dad held Mom close and looked into her eyes. I had thought they were about to kiss, so I covered my face.

Three.

With my lids closed, I flipped the quarter into the air. I heard the plop of coins dropping into the water . . .

Tink.

. . . except one.

When I opened my eyes, my gaze fell upon the quarter. It had landed on the concrete lip surrounding the water.

How had I missed the water while standing mere inches away from it?

Those were some strong wishes, a feminine voice said behind me.

We all spun around. I narrowly missed getting smacked in the face by Beth’s ponytail.

An unfamiliar woman stood gripping a crooked tree branch that was taller than any of us. The woman was old—not quite my grandma’s age, but definitely older than my parents. Her facial features were soft but slightly indented, like the whisperings of wrinkles that had yet to settle into her face. There was silver in her hair around her temples and forehead. The rest of her hair was red like a leaf in full-bloom autumn. She had a few skinny, gnarled twigs protruding from her hair. Weird. I hadn’t thought we had homeless people in town.

Whit asked, Who are you?

Beth put her hands on her hips. How do you know what we wished?

Mei elbowed Beth. She probably overheard us. To the woman, she snapped, Why are you eavesdropping on us?

Eavesdropping is not how I know. The woman’s voice sounded rich, like thick maple syrup. Which one of you is Genie?

None of us answered, but my friends kept flicking their eyes toward me. Like that wasn’t a total giveaway! We would have failed an FBI interrogation. It’s a good thing wishing wasn’t a federal offense.

The woman walked up to the fountain and picked up my quarter. She turned it around in her hand and inspected it as if the coin would tell her the answer.

I crossed my arms. Why do you want to know?

This, she said, holding the quarter up in front of my eyes, is a very powerful wish. And very dangerous. If you make this wish, you may be in for more than you bargain for.

Stunned, I snatched it out of her hand. It’s just a quarter.

You embedded it with powerful images. It carries a part of your soul. Are you sure you want to throw it away?

Annoyed, I threw the coin into the water in answer to her question. It hit the surface and floated for a second, which surprised me. I’d never seen a quarter belly flop before. After a moment, it was quickly sucked into the pool.

The woman looked me straight in the eye. Her irises were raging storm clouds. I took a step back as she continued. You all must be very brave for what lies ahead.

My friends looked as confused and frustrated as I felt. This wishing thing was turning out to be a very bad idea.

Whit’s eyebrows shot up. What do you mean?

Cold gusts of wind curled around us as the woman spoke. You will be tested. Your fates are bound by one wish. It is one of the most powerful I have seen. You will need to be kept safe from the sorcerer before all is lost.

Beth tried to keep her hair out of her mouth as she said, You make no sense!

Wind rushed, and the sound filled our ears. The woman called to us over the freak weather, I will send someone for you soon.

We covered our eyes while street debris encircled our heads. Then, as suddenly as it picked up, the wind died away.

The four of us looked around. The woman had disappeared. All that remained of our encounter were the ripples in the fountain’s waters. The ripples were centered around the spot where my quarter had been sucked down.

Beth was the first to speak. I didn’t know the crazy train had a stop in our town.

Our experience (as my friends and I were calling it) at the fountain made it hard to concentrate on anything, including my mom. She tried talking to me on the way to the theater, but the only thing my brain grabbed hold of was that my dad was staying with a friend for the weekend. After receiving enough one-word responses, Mom gave up on any sort of conversation with me. Honestly, I still didn’t know how to respond to her . . . or Dad, if he hadn’t stormed out of the house this morning. The twenty-minute drive to the two-screen theater didn’t provide any spontaneous moments of clarity, either.

On top of that, my thoughts kept flying back to the fountain and the woman who had mysteriously disappeared. Her words kept invading my thoughts: You all must be very brave for what lies ahead.

What the heck was there to be brave about in our town? Carlisle was so small, there wasn’t even a cell phone tower. We had to drive to Sandstone or Hinckley to get any sort of service, particularly when it came to receiving a text within ten years of sending it to your friends. The exception was at school, where the reception, oddly, was excellent. This often drove our teachers insane.

Midway through the movie (when, in dramatic fashion, all hope seemed lost that the fairy and human would ever be together), a short man came in and sat in front of Mom and me. On his head was a puffy mushroom-shaped hat with flaps that hung down past his ears. The way the hat was shaped, soft lumps stretched the fabric in odd places. It appeared to be stuffed full of hair. Though it was dark in the theater, short curly red strands could be seen poking through the material.

The thing that most grabbed my attention was the aroma. He smelled like the autumn air, pumpkins, and candy corn—some of my favorite smells. My nostrils pulled me forward, toward the man sitting ramrod straight before us. I wanted to wrap myself in a blanket of his aroma. I wanted to reach out and touch him.

My arm lifted. I leaned in . . . and as I did so, the man’s head twisted my way. Despite the dark theater, his eyes glowed. As his gaze approached mine, a strong tug pulled at the center of my chest.

A slap on the fleshiest part of my arm broke the trance. As the pain pulsed, up and down, the scent of salty popcorn crawled up my nostrils and the fall-like smells were gone. Sitting back and massaging my sore arm, I looked at Mom. No need for violence!

What are you talking about? she whispered innocently between kernels of popcorn.

You hit me.

No, I didn’t. I’ve been watching the movie.

You just slapped my arm, Mom! My voice began to rise in volume.

I didn’t spend twenty dollars on tickets and greasy popcorn to slap you, silly. Will you please watch? she hissed out of the side of her mouth.

Someone shushed us from behind.

When I turned, the sight made me literally jump out of my seat. I slipped and landed hard on the floor.

Leaning forward in between my mother’s seat and mine was the woman from the fountain. Her pointer finger was pressed to her lips, making her look like an obsessive librarian hushing me into submission.

I wanted to scream at her, Why are you following me, creeper? But my voice refused to work. Instead, I stared like an idiot. Oddly, no one noticed that I was sitting on the theater floor. Even Mom didn’t glance over, and she usually had a very sensitive mommy red-alert button. It triggered whenever she thought I was doing something wrong, like taking too long to walk home. Lying on a sticky floor with Icee residue soaking into my pants would typically flip the alert switch.

They can’t see you right now, the maple-syrup-voiced woman said softly.

What is that supposed to mean? I responded irritably.

You are one of the chosen humans who can see me. When I’m near you, my presence keeps your actions hidden. All eyes will be directed away from you.

I shook my head and stood. Leave me alone, I snapped before resituating myself in the seat.

"Just remember, things on the inside are not always the same as they appear, or smell, on the outside."

Before I had a chance to respond, her image dissipated. Her body became so transparent, I could see through it. Then she evaporated into smoky tendrils, starting from the outside and working inward. It was like she was made of water that was boiling away to steam. The smoky wisps filled the space, finger-like tendrils swirling around my seat. I leaned away, suddenly worried her evaporated lady parts were going to brush against my skin. The tendrils swept around the mushroom head in front of me before lazily drifting up to the ceiling.

Mouth hanging open, I stared at the spot she had been for long enough that the girl behind me waved and made a sour face. I whipped back around, clenching my jaw shut. Clearly, people could see my actions now.

What’s happening?

Mushroom Man began to fidget in his seat. He was staring at the ceiling and nibbling on his pinkie nail, which was longer than three of my own nails. Not taking his eyes off the ceiling, the man stood up and inched out of the theater. He had stubby