The Sorcerer's Calling

By Lexi Ostrow

The realm and knights of Camelot need a savior, and Gwendolyn wants a new life.

Gwendolyn Penn spent her life wishing for a different life in a different reality. She longed to live alongside the Knights of Camelot, to slay dragons, wear gowns, and fall in love with a handsome, courageous man. When a portal opens and a man steps through claiming to be Merlin with a prophecy stating Gwen is his kingdom's savior, she doesn't hesitate to run with him.

To Camelot.

Morgana wants Arthur's throne, and a vision placed Gwen at the heart of the battle. She doesn't understand how a boring, human woman could slay a sorceress. Until Merlin's blood mingles with hers and she can command the magic of the fae. Until she realizes her attraction to the three men unlocks a side of her she didn't know existed.

A side that might defeat Morgana.

Surrounded by Merlin, Arthur, and Lancelot, Gwen learns there's more to Camelot than the tales tell. There's more to her than the quiet librarian, as well. Her heart wants what her heart wants, and Gwen is going to listen to it no matter who it leads her to.

Gwen needs her magic to be enough.
Gwen needs her attraction to not one, but three, men to not distract her as she learns to wield her magic.
Gwen needs to save Camelot.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lexi Ostrow
• Release date: Nov 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201715649

Lexi Ostrow

USA Today Bestselling Author Lexi Ostrow has been in love with the written word since second grade when her librarian started a writing club. Born in sunny southern California she's spent time in various places across the country thanks to her husband's USCG career. Now, she's also mom to a far too adorable toddler, and a menagerie of pets, spinning fantastical worlds whenever she gets the opportunity. Lexi has been a writer ever since the second grade in some form or another. Getting her degree in creative writing and her master's in journalism she couldn't wait to get a chance to put her fantasies down on paper.  From paranormal romance to thriller there isn't a genre she doesn't love to spend her time reading or writing. With her BA in creative writing from UCR and her MA in multi-media Journalism from Emerson College, she's ready to take on the literary world one novel at a time. Reading and writing are her first loves, but her passion for shopping, love for yummy food and her love for all her many pets are not far behind. Lexi is an enthusiast Whovian and DC Comic Show lover who isn't afraid to talk someone's ear off about them. She hopes to one day help other readers fall in love with writing as she did.

Book preview

I’d been in love with Arthur and his court since before I could remember. I buried myself in retellings, in lore, in remakes.

So, wasn’t it only natural that I found myself being loved by them?

I didn’t think so, but I’m never looking back.

---

~~ Gwendolyn Penn

One

The pale blue puff of magic swirled in the air, dancing in the glow of the moonlight before taking shape.

A woman, with hair as dark as night and eyes as blue as the ocean, stared back at the men. She could not see them, and they could not look away from her. Her beauty alone could entrap a man. Her relationship with the men in the forest could destroy them all.

It will be she? Arthur’s gruff voice echoed in the empty clearing. That is the woman who will destroy Camelot?

Merlin nodded. They’d known the beautiful woman in the center of his magic since she was a youth playing about the halls of Camelot. They also knew precisely what she wanted and why.

A message arrived for Arthur - forged by magic - with a threat just that morning, but Merlin could not ascertain who created it.

Until now.

The magic spoke to me in dreams. Flame ravaged buildings, and the dead await your kingdom if we do nothing. I do not yet know when, but even I can see the golden thread of magic weaved around her like a tapestry. That woman is fae and only one in a string of those your father wronged. Unfortunately, she may just be the most powerful fae alive aside from me, something that will not bode well for Camelot.

She will not get near Camelot. The moment the words passed Lancelot’s lips, the magic bound him to the oath.

That is a tall order, my friend. Arthur narrowed his pale green eyes at the magic still dancing in the night. She is beautiful and powerful. There is no telling what she can do to manipulate men.

Camelot had not seen Morgana since she was a young girl, cast out by the man who took her in once he caught a glimpse of her magic. They all assumed she’d crossed through the Great Tree and the veil between the realm of Camelot and the fae, never to return.

Merlin and Arthur knew differently, but it was their secret to keep.

Then it is good I am not a man. Lancelot’s stark stare was the coldest Merlin had ever seen it.

Merlin scoffed. A knight is still a man, he waved his hand through the smoke, dissipating the magic, leaving just the woman’s haunting blue eyes behind for a moment longer. If any stand a chance against this woman, it will be I.

Magic is a disgusting habit. Arthur spat. If you were not like a brother to me, I would not allow your powers within my castle walls.

Magic danced on the tips of Merlin’s fingers. He and the great king danced this dance many times—especially right after Merlin saved Arthur from whatever danger he’d gotten himself into, always with the aid of magic. Still, Arthur looked down upon the most powerful man in his realm, choosing instead to place his confidence in a group of men with pointy sticks.

As you’ve said numerous times since we were boys. Merlin’s words were clipped. He could destroy Arthur with a snap, but he’d sworn his allegiance, and one day, Arthur would come out from under Uther’s shadow and remember how vital magic can be.

One day, following in his father’s footsteps will see Arthur in more peril than even I can save him from. Merlin sighed. It would seem that day is prophesied and there is naught I can do to protect him or my home.

Merlin had come to claim Camelot as his home nearly two decades ago. He had not crossed the veil between realms since he was nine, choosing to stay and protect Arthur after a vision showed him ruling over Camelot with a kind heart.

And he did rule.

Unfortunately, a lifetime with his father’s hatred of magic had not created an understanding man in Arthur. Unlike Uther, Arthur did not seek to destroy the fae. He did not hunt them down by the hundreds or burn them at the stake should they arrive in Camelot. Nor did Arthur welcome fae with open arms. They were not to step foot in Camelot unless invited.

The same went for the creatures with fae blood who were not human in visage. Four years ago, Arthur and his knights drove the dragons out. A year later, they rounded up the golems and cast them into the caves a day’s ride outside the castle. Merlin had since lost count of how many creatures Arthur purged from his land.

Still, Arthur ruled with a kind hand for his people and readily kept the peace with other kingdoms. Merlin didn’t agree with Arthur’s approach toward those with magic in their veins, but he loved Arthur like a brother and would never abandon him.

No matter how much the tree calls to you.

The transition between realms occurred thanks to the magic of a certain tree, and once long ago, Merlin could have left Arthur a hundred times over. All the fae could, but their realm was not one of peace, and even running from Arthur’s strict rule was a kinder fate than returning home.

Plus it would mean working with Morgana to unlock it long enough to allow many people through.

Merlin! Arthur snipped, his voice booming in the space.

Apologies. I was a bit distracted with thoughts of what is to come.

Take us home, Merlin. We’ve much to plan for and since you have not seen a vision of how to stop Morgana, my knights very well may need to lead the charge. Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. I respect that you are powerful, and likely the only worthy adversary of one with magic as strong as Morgana’s, but swords do just fine when they come in mass. I’d rather us seek her out than lay in wait for her attack on my kingdom.

Understood, Arthur. Merlin crossed his right hand behind his left, moving in a circle with his mind focused on the tall spires of Camelot’s Palace. His eyes narrowed and the muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed as he continued to spread his hands apart, drawing open the fabric of space to allow them to return to Camelot without a physical journey.

Magic worked better in the woods, but it was not a fast trek to this spot, and Merlin had it within his power to cast the magic.

Slowly, the blue circle of magic he formed began to grow transparent, bringing the magnificence of Camelot just in front of the thicket of trees Merlin faced. Three spires stretched toward the sky high above the white stone wall enclosing the small village at the base of the castle. Stained glass windows reflected the glow of the moon and beckoned them home.

Only when the view of Camelot widened to include the entrance to the village at the foot of the castle, did Merlin allow the magic to stop. With a smirk, he turned to Arthur. Magic has its uses. After you, My Liege.

Arthur didn’t dignify Merlin’s taunt with a comment, but, rather, walked straight through the portal, taking one step in a forest and another just outside his castle.

Lancelot followed, his eyes still cast with hardness. Only once the realm’s most revered knight walked completely from the portal did Merlin step through as well. The portal shut without a sound the moment Merlin twisted his right hand, sucking his magic back into him to avoid needing time to recover.

After all, he had a sorceress to find and destroy.

---

Gwendolyn, her mother looked at her over the paper. I know this isn’t the best time, but I think it’s time we had a talk about, her mother ducked behind the paper. About your living situation.

Gwen froze. Her mother only called her by her full name when she’d done something wrong. Well, I guess being thirty-three and living at home is fairly wrong. Swallowing, Gwen set her spoon down. You need me to move out.

I mean, her mother cleared her throat but didn’t peer over the newspaper. I want you to move out. I want you to live again.

Gwen’s heart thumped in her chest. Her mother had not brought up Gwen getting on with her life once in the last two years.

Two years.

The familiar ache blossomed in her chest, but Gwen had long since learned to ignore it.

It’s not that I don’t love having you here, Sweetie, but it’s time to take your life back. You can’t let Randall have stolen so much from you.

The mere mention of her ex-husband’s name sent Gwen’s stomach twisting.

I understand. The words were curt even to her ears.

Gwen spent her life immersed in stories—specifically knights performing good deeds to save the damsel in distress and win the heart of the lady. So, of course, when her husband of eight weeks found it more suitable to tangle the sheets with some random woman, Gwen knew romance wasn’t real.

Bile rose in her throat as the image of Randall’s long, dark hair framing another woman’s face as his naked body thrust rapidly as a beacon of betrayal formed in her mind for the hundredth or so time.

Gwendolyn?

I’m fine. I’ve got plenty saved. I just…I didn’t want to be alone.

Finally, the newspaper lowered, and Gwen saw the tears shining in her mother’s icy gray eyes.

I know. I understand, I really do. But you’re still so young. While I’m not saying the option is to be swayed by the next devilishly handsome man who holds your hand, I want you to experience things again.

All her life, Gwen had been shut-in, surrounding herself with books on lore and history instead of going out and living. She’d chosen that path, preferring the tales and myths to the vile and horrible things occurring just outside her front door.

Meeting Randall on a trip to England had seemed like fate. He’d saved her from making a total mess of herself when she slipped in mud just outside Windsor Castle.

Gwen had taken one look into his green eyes and fallen in love with the Brit on sight. Supposedly, he’d done the same.

At least until he arrived here only to realize how handsome he was, and decided screwing other women was more important.

Gwendolyn? Her mother’s brows knit together, concern radiating from every inch of Polly Penn’s face. Are you listening?

You mean do I hear you telling me it’s time to get under someone new but not rush to the altar after six months or am I too busy daydreaming about knights in shining armor who would save me? A slight smile was all Gwen could do to let her mother know she wasn’t actually angry.

Just because your name has Penn in it does not give you a blood link to a fictional king. Do you know how common our last name is?

Gwen sighed. Yes, at last count there were just over thirty-one hundred people in the United States and Britain with the last name, Penn. And for the record, she set her spoon down, I was listening to you. I just don’t know if I’m ready.

How will you ever be ready if you do not try? Her mother sighed and rubbed her hands over her eyes. I love you, Gwen, and I am not trying to push you out of the nest. It just hurts me to watch you go back and forth to work and then return home like there’s nothing else out there for you.

I’m a thirty-three-year-old tenured professor of classic literature. I have no more than ten people each semester who actually want to be in my class. What else is there?

There would be love if you tried it again.

Like you did after Dad? She winced at how harsh it sounded.

Your father was the love of my life and god rest his soul. I have no need to honor his final wishes and move on with another man. I get out when I need to scratch an itch.

Gwen flinched. That is not a mental image anyone needs of their parents, Mom.

Polly smirked and lifted the newspaper. Then get out of the house, Gwen. Go to a bar after work. Go pick up some younger hottie and get out of the slump Randall threw you into.

Gwen wouldn’t ever admit to it out loud, but the reason she went to work and returned was the fear of running into Randall. They’d been perfect for each other in every way, right down to their shared love of classical literature, which landed him the only other tenure in the subject at NYU. It wasn’t Columbia, but it didn’t matter.

The city was large, but the circle she frequented surrounded the college and she would, without a doubt, run into him.

Go out to the Island. Hell, go into Jersey, her mother said the other state like it was a disease. Just please, Gwen, start living again. You deserve so much more.

Gwen closed her eyes and sucked in a slow breath, releasing it even slower before opening her eyes. I’ll join a dating app, okay?

While not nearly as romantic as simply bumping into a handsome stranger in a bar, I’ll take it. You’ll be ready to move out in no time because you want to, not because I’m kicking you out.

Whatever you say, Mom. Sounds wonderful, Gwen stood up. Time for class.

Two

Dark brown eyes stared into his soul.

Merlin knew he was wrapped in the vestiges of sleep but could not ignore the thrum of magic swirling around the woman before him.

She dressed strangely, in pants of a thick material and a tunic with a hood, but the faint glow of blue fae magic hovered all around her, covering her like a shield.

Though she stared in his direction, she gave no indication she could see him. The loneliness in her eyes seemed to swallow Merlin. An intense pleasure washed over him as he watched the beautiful stranger cook.

It was a mundane task, and one far below the station of any woman he could ever set his eyes on to marry, but with her, it was magical. It was as if fae blood rushed through her veins in some distant time, or even land. She called to him without saying a word as she cracked an egg against a green and copper pan on a device made from the same material as a knight’s armor that he’d never seen before.

The woman was perhaps the most enchanting creature Merlin ever saw - awake or otherwise. This stranger could combat Morgana for the title of the most beautiful woman ever to be seen in Camelot and win with every eligible knight lining up to be her champion.

She stood there, dripping egg from a shell into a pan, and Merlin was captivated. So much so he almost missed as the yolk of the egg shifted from a sunny yellow to a crimson red.

Suddenly, Merlin did not look upon the woman behind some monstrous cooking device, but on a field of battle.

Her dark hair blew behind her, untied and dangerous in combat. Her armor was indistinguishable from that of Arthur’s knights. Blood dripped from Excalibur, sliding down the legendary blade Merlin couldn’t understand how she held.

Forcing his consciousness in the dream, Merlin glanced away from the mysterious woman as she swung Excalibur again, this time driving it across Morgana’s chest, drawing a deep gash of scarlet in the sorceress’s otherwise pale blue robes.

Merlin bolted upright in the bed, gasping for air as his heart beat frantically. He’d witnessed a woman defeating Morgana in battle. A woman who clearly was not from Camelot, the Fae Realm, or perhaps anywhere Merlin knew of.

How can you find a woman you do not know? Shaking off the final holds of his fascination with the woman, Merlin threw his legs off the small bed. Regardless of where or who this woman was, Merlin needed to speak to Arthur.

Grabbing his cloak off the bedpost, Merlin twirled it around himself, securing the silver button around his neck.

He held no doubt Arthur would be furious upon waking him, so transporting himself directly into the king’s chambers was not an option.

Walking around the castle in the middle of the night is much better, Merlin scoffed, crossing the space and tugging open the door. I have had a vision. I need to see Arthur. He did not wait for the sentry outside his door to respond, just continued down the hall.

The guard did not try to stop him, as he was not there to monitor Merlin, but to protect him.

Despite his rank in Arthur’s Court, Merlin had far more enemies than friends. As the single fae permitted inside Camelot, many held hatred for his magic. Others were fae who’d banished their magic, who despised Merlin for his open ability to wield his.

Camelot was not all it appeared to be to the outside, and Merlin could only hope that one day, Arthur would live up to the vision Merlin’s magic presented him with nearly two decades ago. A kingdom teetering on the brink of war was one that would most assuredly fall.

Torches ominous flickered around Merlin as he quickened his pace up the spiral staircase. Merlin’s chambers were only separated by a set of stairs, but those stairs were an inconvenience now.

Merlin, Percival’s eyes snapped wide as Merlin approached. What news do you have for the king at such an hour?

News that pertains precisely to why a one of Arthur’s best knights is posted outside his door instead of tucked away in his own bed. Merlin snapped.

Percival's navy eyes narrowed, but he reached behind him and twisted the knob, sending the door inward. Your Majesty, he spoke as he turned. Your Majesty, Merlin has arrived with important news.

Though Percival did not move from his spot, his voice carried well through the enormous royal chamber.

Merlin stepped in and went to the king’s side. If Arthur didn’t wake on his own, a little shock from Merlin would do the trick.

Arthur, Merlin tested when the king did not rouse.

This had best be important, Arthur grumbled, rubbing his eyes but not sitting up in the bed.

I know how we defeat Morgana.

Arthur bolted up, his jade eyes almost gleaming they opened so quickly. This had better not be a jest, the king growled, his voice alert and his threat palpable.

I have had a vision of a battle in which Morgana falls.

I knew we would best her in battle. Battle is what my knights do best. Arthur grinned like a cat. Tell me, which knight will save my realm?

Merlin shifted his weight from side-to-side. It is not a knight, My Lord, but a woman.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as anger spread over his expression. I would never allow a woman on the field of battle! That is preposterous!

I saw what I saw. A woman with hair the color of rich chocolate sweets and eyes to match met Morgana on a field of battle. She wore your crest on her armor, and though she too bled, her sword sliced through Morgana.

Arthur was silent, and Merlin knew why. As much as Arthur hated magic because he could not wield it. He did not question a vision. He never had, not since he lost his mother and father to Merlin’s visions. For a time, the king assumed Merlin plotted against him, but he came to his senses and took things with the degree of severity they required.

Bring her to me. I do not care where in the kingdoms she resides, bring her to Camelot immediately.

Merlin sucked in a deep breath. His body tingled as he blew the breath slowly out, preparing for the worst. I am afraid that is not quite possible at the moment.

And why is that? Where Uther would have exploded, Arthur exhibited a deadly calm.

I do not yet know who she is.

You came to me. Arthur threw off his blanket and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. In the middle of the night, with the most important news one could bring. The king paused as his feet connected with the plush rug beside his bed and walked to Merlin, stopping just before him. But you do not know who she is or where to retrieve her from? A seething anger darkened his pale eyes.

That is correct, but that we know she exists is the important part.

The important part is saving Camelot! Arthur hissed, spittle flinging from his lips to land on Merlin’s skin. How will you find her? Mighty and powerful sorcerer? How will you keep peace in my kingdom? A vision is not action. Though his voice did not lower in volume, Arthur’s tone was slightly calmer the second time he spoke.

Merlin was not certain if he truly was calmer though. He’d known disclosing partial information would make Arthur irritated, but he’d believed the knowledge of hope would bring the king some peace while Merlin sought the woman out.

What did she look like? Flyers will be drawn up.

Her hair was long, the dark strands intermittently woven with an almost golden hue. Her eyes were round and dark, soulful, yet disconnected all the same. She was of average height and did not feature child-bearing hips, but her curves were plentiful where it could count. She appeared similar in skin tone to you, My Liege, and her teeth were perhaps the straightest, whitest coloration I have ever seen, even among royalty.

It sounds as if you fancy her, Arthur smirked. Can you not cast a spell to show you your desire?

I do not believe she is from our realm. Merlin did not confirm or deny that he found the woman enchanting.

And can this spell not reach into your own realm?

Merlin didn’t believe the woman came from his realm either, but it did not feel like the proper moment to bring that up.

Truthfully, the spell should reach anywhere if my desire is not strong enough.

I believe the desire to save Camelot should be enough alone. Arthur raised a blond eyebrow as if to question Merlin’s loyalty.

Blowing out a breath, Merlin tapered his ill-ease. He could not lie and say he did not find the woman attractive, but did he desire her enough to cast a spell and have it work?

I will need to prepare and consult my spell book. I do not cast true spell work often. I will need to go over it.

Lie.

Merlin knew every spell back to front. It was a matter of survival. Over the years, he’d learned Arthur didn’t expect exact perfectness. In this instance, lying about needed to study the spell it would buy him time to cast the spell multiple times should it not work the first time, because not having an answer was not an option.

Merlin blew over the blue smoke, wafting it away from the large pot until he could see the side of the copper pot.

Perfect. he sighed, knowing full well even the slightest mistake in measured ingredients or cast would have led to a clouded liquid. Now I merely need to scoop this up in the ladle and sip it.

Merlin held no aversion to using his magic on himself, but it was so rare he’d almost forgotten it was possible for him to feel the cast of his own handiwork. The wooden ladle seemed to hover above the liquid as if it were alive and uncertain of the best angle to dip into the potion.

Shaking his head, Merlin dumped the utensil in, swished the liquid around, and lifted it from the pot. He opened his lips before the potion was near, and tilted the ladle back, swallowing the tasteless magic.

"Seall dhomh mo mhiann." The Gaelic moved freely off his tongue. Show me my desire. Merlin added the thought as he repeated the phrase a second time.

Everything went black around him, leaving the area in an almost nighttime state but without the stars. He held perfectly still as a brilliant orange sun began to form in the distance. Smaller rocks - planets like his own he assumed - formed just in a line from the flaming star. The third rock grew larger and larger until it wrapped around Merlin.

She’s there, he whispered, staring at her before a horse. "I don’t begin to