"How do you do this?" Ginny asked, waving her hand at the mist as she urged her horse to walk at Myrddin's side the instant the narrow path allowed her.

"It is a pretty simple yet effective magic, Princess Guinevere," the wizard replied. His warm brown eyes, so similar to Garreth's, were the only dots of colour on his ancient face, as they sparkled with amusement from beneath his hair and beard as silvery-white as the fog.

"Garreth can do it too now," she said, observing him intently, not sure how openly she should talk to him, how little he wanted her to know...

"I noticed." Myrddin smiled. "I would never have left the four of you travelling alone so often during the past week if I did not know how strong your cousin's magic is. He has a lot to learn yet, but he is already stronger than many other wizards his age."

Ginny nodded, wondering about how proud he sounded, curious if he had talked to Garreth finally, if he had told him that... Surely her cousin deserved to know what he might have been suspecting his whole life-- that he really was a wizard, and moreover, Lord Myrddin's son.

She opened her mouth to ask even as the old wizard, as if he could read her thoughts, silenced her. "No more questions, child. There are more pressing things to be done now than chatter; let us hurry."

Pressing his heels into his horse's sides, he urged it into a trot, leaving Ginny, frowning and more curious than before, behind. Well, she would ask Aunt Ealasaid, she resolved, as she rode behind the old man in silence.

They found Aunt Ealasaid pacing the courtyard of her castle, waiting for their arrival impatiently.

"Finally, you are here, both safe and well!" she called even before Ginny and Myrddin crossed the drawbridge.

Just why are they so worried? First Myrddin and now even her aunt acted as if they had an army of Saxons at their heels... But it was not so, this part of the country was safe. It was the men gathered on the northern borders of King Uther's Caledonia who were facing the danger, fighting the enemies for them... Her heart skipped a beat or two as she realised that her knight might be risking his life in that very moment.

When her feet touched the cobblestones of the courtyard and her, or better Sir Lancelor's black horse was led to the stables while her bags were carried inside the castle at her aunt's orders, she felt so faint and weak that she did not even feel surprised when old Myrddin morphed into the middle-aged bard they had met in Saintsbury before her very eyes even as he dismounted his steed.

Aunt Ealasaid bestowed a quick peck to Ginny's cheek then rushed to him, lacing her fingers through his hair and pulling him down for a kiss which he reciprocated willingly, pulling her into him, his arms wrapping tightly around her.

At last, Aunt Ealasaid remembered her niece and pulled away from Myrddin, rosy-cheeked and out of breath like a young girl.

Ginny giggled. "Go on, don't mind me, I have figured you two out."

Ealasaid smiled, happy that at least to Ginny, she did not need to explain anything.

"Come inside. The lunch is ready," the Countess said, taking Myrddin by the hand to make him follow.

He brought their joined hands to his lips as he said, "I can't, Ealasaid. They are waiting for me in Celidon Wood, and before I reach them, I must stop in Avalon..."

Ealasaid took a deep breath as her eyes followed Myrddin's finger, pointing to the Sword hanging from Ginny's belt. "So it's true... Then the other rumours must be true as well, King Gwynedd..."

Ginny frowned, not understanding what King Gwynedd of Combrogia had to do with her Excalibur, but Myrddin, shaking his head seriously at her aunt, bidding silence, did not give her time to think about it.

"I'll leave this young lady in your care, Ealasaid. I'll cast my protective charm over your castle-- so you better don't stray far from its walls, Guinevere. This magic won't protect you if you leave, it might not even be strong enough to block all other wizards' charms, I had never had a reason to use it before... But this is the best I can do." He sighed. "And you, Ealasaid, try to talk some sense into your niece. She says she won't marry Prince Arthur."

"But didn't you say you saw them ki..." Ealasaid said, puzzled by this piece of news, nearly forgetting that Ginny could hear them. "Fine. I'll try. You be careful," she told the wizard then, seeing how impatient to leave he looked.

Even as they kissed goodbye, Ginny asked, unable to resist her curiosity any longer, "Have you spoken to Garreth, Aunt? He should know who his father is. He's old enough to understand."

Ealasaid did not look at her-- her eyes bore into Myrddin's as she replied, "He asked me last night, just before he left. But I could not tell him, not without you at my side..."

"We will tell him as soon as this war is over, my love. Now take Guinevere inside. Don't worry about anything. I'll be back soon."

Ealasaid nodded, laced her arm through Ginny's, and walked inside. Myrddin mounted his horse again and headed for the drawbridge, a translucent protective barrier shimmering above him like a gossamer veil made of fog for an instant, before it spread like a huge tent above the whole castle, becoming perfectly invisible.

Ginny, still looking over her shoulder, feeling awed, asked her aunt in reverential whisper, "Can he really find his way to Avalon through the mists of the Lake?"

"He has never spoken to me about Avalon before... but if he says so, he surely can. And now you must stop asking questions and tell me what's this nonsense about not marrying Prince Arthur? And how did you get that sword?!"

While Ginny recounted her adventures to Aunt Ealasaid, explaining how she had pulled the Excalibur from the stone and then confessed about her having fallen in love with Sir Lancelot of the Lake, the Countess couldn't stop shaking her head.

Oh Myrddin, she thought. It was just like him to confuse 'details' like which of the two knights he saw kissing Guinevere... What a predicament. But she would not force her niece to marry the prince if she loved his knight. She knew too well how it felt, marrying a man against one's will. She would rather speak to the girl's father. As Guinevere's mother's sister, she had a right to disagree about whom the girl should marry. She did not care if King Uther was Leodegrance's friend or not. If Ginny did not like his son, she would not marry him.

"You'll help me, Aunt, won't you?" Ginny's words disturbed the Countess' reverie.

"Of course. But you'll have to listen to me, and stay here until the war ends and your father, or your knight, will come back to protect you from..."

"What's that nonsense about King Gwynedd?" Ginny asked, pushing her food around her plate.

Ealasaid sighed. "I'll explain if you eat."

While the Countess told her niece all that she had heard, Myrddin-- his mist allowing him to travel much faster than the one Garreth could produce-- reached the shores of the Lake. He let his mist dispel, freeing his horse to find its way back to Warwick alone. Then he stood still, his hands raised towards the placid waters of the Lake, his lips moving in a silent request to the inhabitants of Avalon to come for him if they wished to speak.

And even as the last traces of his magical mist vanished, a different mist appeared above the waters, thickening, churning like the clouds before a storm. As a gust of wind caught his dark travelling cloak, twisting it around his body, revealing his grey wizards' robe he wore underneath, a low barge glided out of the otherworldly fog, still and perfectly undisturbed by the wind.

The High Priestess of Avalon apparently had something to tell him.

Only when the barge that had picked him up brought him back to the shore, did Myrddin realise that he had spent a lot more time than he had wanted to in Avalon.

A deep layer of snow covered the flat countryside as far as he could see; the lakes which had spilt out of their confines turned the solid ground into an infinite, treacherous swamp. It must have been a month at least, the wizard mused, and the winter came early this year...

He looked over his shoulder towards the island where the time passed at a different rhythm, where summer was endless, the seasons never changed, but he could not see it. It had vanished already, along with the barge, in the low mists clinging to the water's surface. He could only see the snow-covered rooftops of Glastonbury, hear the peal of the bell in the tall church tower calling the monks and nuns to their prayers.

But he had no time to reflect upon the ancient magic of Avalon now, he needed to rush to the Celidon Wood. He had left the kings and their men waiting too long.

Pulling his dark cloak tighter around his body-- its thin fabric offering no protection against the winter's chill-- the wizard disappeared with a loud pop.

Only a few hours after Myrddin had vanished from its shores, just as the early winter twilight replaced the weak sunlight of the day, Ginny and Morag reached the edge of the Lake, exhausted by the long, perilous but adventurous journey.

Ginny pulled at the reins of Sir Lancelot's horse, patting the animal on his large black head fondly to smooth his temper; he didn't like to stay still for long. She glanced at Morag, smiling thankfully, then turned towards the Lake, trying to spot a boat that would take them to Glastonbury, while she let the memories of the past few weeks play out in her mind.