Free Lucan: The Pendragon Legacy by Susan Kearney Page A

enough to grab Marisa’s shoulders. They had only minutes to find a way out before hypothermia set in.

    He pulled her close. “I’ve got you.”

    When she didn’t reply, fear poured through his system. Fighting to lift her head above the surface, he shined his light around the cave in search of a shoal or a shallow pool.

    Marisa lifted a quaking hand. “There.”

    Just ahead, the river forked. One side widened, the other narrowed.

    Using most of his remaining strength, he steered them toward the wider fork, praying it wouldn’t take them deeper underground. His prayers were answered when they rounded a bend and the water leveled out onto a dirt embankment.

    He pulled Marisa out of the river, and together th8 kpJey lay on the bank, panting, shivering, and exhausted. When she didn’t speak, he aimed the light on her. Her eyes were closed, her face pale, her lips blue. He wrung some of the water from her clothing, then rubbed her limbs with his own freezing hands.

    Her eyes fluttered open. “One word… about my hair, and I’ll s-smack you up side the head.”

    “You look good in mud.”

    She slapped at his shoulder but didn’t have the strength to land the blow.

    He smoothed her hair from her eyes. “Save your strength. I don’t want to have to carry you.” She needed to walk to keep the hypothermia at bay.

    “W-wuss.” She crawled up the bank until her back rested against a dirt wall.

    Lucan focused on survival. “We’ve got to get moving or we’ll freeze.”

    “You wrung the water from my clothes. What about you?”

    “I’m fine.”

    “Of course you’re fine. J-just like when y-you were in Namibia and that black mamba bit you?”

    “I lived.”

    “Barely.” Marisa took his hand and tried to stand, but her knees buckled. She grabbed the wall behind her for support and it began to collapse on top of them.

    Lucan lunged and threw his body over hers, shut his eyes, and prayed they wouldn’t be buried alive. Clumps of cold mud cascaded over them and bounced aside.

    “You okay?” Lucan asked.

    “Oh, now I’m really having f-fun.” Marisa spat dirt. “So glad you s-suggested”—her teeth chattered uncontrollably—“th-this little vacation.”

    Lucan shoved to his feet. “Think what a great adventure story you’ll have to write.”

    “I don’t want to
be
the story.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “But you love this shit. You’re probably getting off on—”

    Wow.
Her telepathic thought interrupted her words midsentence. And her amazement came through in waves—surprising waves that peaked with astonishment.

    “What?” He spun around to see exactly what had shocked her, and he froze. He focused his flashlight on the unearthed urn, hardly believing his eyes or his luck. The intricate design made dating the piece easy. “It’s Tintagel ware.”

    “Tinta-who?”

    “Tintagel ware is an ancient indigenous pottery. Fifth or sixth century. More evidence that Cadbury Castle really was King Arthur’s home base.”

    They both jumped aside as another slice of wall and more pottery crashed down, revealing a hidden room. At the sound of breaking terra-cotta, Lucan winced. An ancient scroll poked from the shards, and he dashed to pull the paper from the muddy earth before the dampness reached it.
    Old and fragile, the antiquity had survived in amazing condition. He balanced the flashlight between his shoulder and chin, unfurled his find, and squinted, wishing for his lost glasses.

    Marisa peered over his arm, her reporter’s curiosity evident. “What is it?”

    Lucan stared, his pulse racing in excitement. The astrological map revealed the Sun, the Earth, planets. And many stars. But what had his heart battering his ribs was the line drawn from Earth to a star far across the galaxy. He was looking at an ancient map of the heavens. His mouth went dry. “This is a star map.”

    “Why do you sound so surprised? Even the most ancient cultures were into