"Yet tell me you will do what you can," Lancelet pleaded, and she said, "I have told you I will look into the mirror. But it will be with us as the Goddess wills. Come."

The sun was high now, and as they walked down the hill toward the Sacred Well, a raven croaked once overhead. Lancelet crossed himself against the evil omen, but Morgaine looked up and said, "What did you say, sister?"

Raven's voice said in her mind, Be not afraid. Mordred will not kill Galahad. And Arthur will kill Mordred.

She said aloud, "Arthur will be King Stag still ... ."

Lancelet turned and stared at her. "What did you say, Morgaine?"

Raven said in her mind, Not to the Holy Well, but to the chapel, and now. It is the time ordained.

Lancelet asked, "Where are we going? Have I forgotten the way to the Holy Well?" and Morgaine, raising her head, realized that her steps had brought them, not to the Well, but to the little chapel where the ancient Christian brotherhood held their services. They said it had been built by the brotherhood when the ancient Joseph had thrust his staff into the ground on the hill called Wearyall. She put out her hand and took a sprig of the Holy Thorn; it pricked her finger to the bone, and hardly knowing what she did, she put out her hand and marked Lancelet's forehead with the streak of blood.

He looked at her, startled. She could hear the priests singing softly, Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison. She went in quietly and knelt down to her own surprise. The chapel was filled with mist, and it seemed to Morgaine that through the mist she could see that other chapel, the one on Ynis Witrin, and hear both sets of voices singing ... Kyrie eleison ... and there were women's voices too; yes, this must be on Ynis Witrin, for in the chapel on Avalon there were no women, these must be the nuns in the convent there. It seemed for a moment that Igraine knelt beside her and she heard her voice, clear and soft, singing Christe eleison. The priest was at the altar, and then it seemed to her as if Nimue was there, her golden hair hanging down her back, fair and lovely as Gwenhywfar had been when she was a young maiden in the convent. But instead of the old jealous fury, Morgaine looked on her with the purest love for her beauty ... the mists thickened; she could hardly see Lancelet kneeling at her side, but before her, kneeling at the altar in the other chapel, she could see Galahad with his face raised, shining, and on it was the reflected brightness ... and she knew that he, too, saw through the mists, into the chapel here on Avalon, where the Grail stood ... .

She heard from the other chapel a ring of tiny bells, and heard ... she never knew which of the priests, the one here in Avalon, or the one on Ynis Witrin ... but in her mind it was the gentle voice of Taliesin ... murmuring, "For in that night in which the Christ was betrayed, our Master took the cup and blessed it, and said, All of you drink of this, for this is my blood which will be shed for you. So often as ye drink of this cup, do it ever in remembrance of me."

She could see the shadow of the priest who lifted the cup of communion, yet it was the damsel of the Grail, Nimue ... or was it she herself who set the cup to his lips? Lancelet rushed forward, crying out, "Ah-the light, the light-!" and dropped to his knees, his hands shielding his eyes, then slipped further forward and lay prone on the ground.

Under the touch of the Grail, the shadowed face of the young man became clear, solid, real, and the mists were gone; Galahad knelt and drank of the cup.

"For as the wine of many grapes was crushed to make a single wine, so as we unite in this bloodless and perfect sacrifice, then shall we all become One in the Great Light which is Infinite ... ."

And even as the rapture glowed through his face, the light shining there, he drew a great breath of absolute joy, and looked full into the light. He reached out to grasp the cup in his hands. .. and fell forward, slithered to the floor of the chapel, and he too lay there without moving.

It is death to touch the holy things unprepared ... .

Morgaine saw Nimue-or was it she herself?-cover Galahad's face with a white veil. And then Nimue was gone, and the cup was standing on the altar, only the gold cup of the Mysteries, without any trace of the unearthly light ... she was not sure it was there ... it was surrounded by mist. And Galahad lay dead on the floor of the chapel in Avalon, cold and still beside Lancelet.

IT WAS a long time before Lancelet stirred, and as he raised his head, Morgaine saw that his face was shadowed with tragedy. He whispered, "And I was not worthy to follow him."

"You must take him back to Camelot," Morgaine said gently. "He has won the quest of the Grail-but it was his final quest. He could not bear that light."

"Nor could I," Lancelet whispered. "Look, the light is still on his face. What did he see?"

Slowly, she shook her head, feeling the cold rise up her arms. "Neither you nor I will ever know that, Lancelet. I know only this-that he died with the Grail at his lips."

Lancelet looked up at the altar. The priests had gone quietly away, leaving Morgaine alone with the dead and the living; and the cup, surrounded in mist, still gleamed there, softly glowing.

Lancelet rose. He said, "Yes. And this shall come back with me to Camelot, that all men may know the quest is ended ... and no more knights seeking the unknown to die or go mad ... "

He took one step toward the altar where the Grail gleamed, but Morgaine flung her arms around him and held him back.

"No! No! It is not for you! The very sight of it struck you down! It is death to touch the holy things unprepared-"

"Then I shall die for it," he said, but she held him hard, and soon she felt him give way. He said, "Why, Morgaine? Why must this suicidal folly go on?"

"No," she said, "the quest of the Grail is ended. You were spared to return to Camelot and tell them that. But you cannot take it back to Camelot. No man can hold and confine it. Those who seek it in faith"- she heard her own voice, though she did not know what she was going to say until she said it-"will always find it-here, beyond the mortal lands. But if it should go back with you to Camelot, it would fall into the hands of the narrowest of the priests, and become a pawn for them...." She could feel the tears thickening her voice. "I beg of you, Lancelet. Leave it here in Avalon. Let there be, in this new world without magic, one Mystery the priests cannot describe and define once and for all, cannot put within their narrow dogma of what is and what is not ... " Her voice broke. "In the day which is coming, the priests will tell mankind what is good and what is evil, what to think, what to pray, what to believe. I cannot see to the end-perhaps mankind must have a time of darkness so that we will one day again know what a blessing is the light. But in that darkness, Lancelet, let there be one glimmer of hope. The Grail came once to Camelot. Let the memory of that passing never be sullied by seeing it captive on some worldly altar. Leave one Mystery and one source of vision for man to follow ... " She heard her voice go dry until it seemed like the croaking of the last of ravens.

Lancelet bowed down before her. "Morgaine, or are you truly Morgaine? I think I do not know who or what you are. But what you say is true. Let the Grail remain forever in Avalon."

Morgaine raised her hand, and the little folk of Avalon came and lifted up Galahad's body, bearing it silently to the Avalon barge. Lancelet's hand still in her own, Morgaine walked down to the shore, where she looked at the body lying in the boat. For a moment it seemed that Arthur lay there, then the vision wavered and vanished, and it was only Galahad, with that uncanny peace and light on his face.