Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

T he salty wind toys with my hair as our boat sails up the river. Up ahead, mist twines around golden towers, and dawn tinges the fog on the lake with rosy gold. The ancient snow-frosted city of Camelot spreads out on the shore, crowned by the castle. No matter how grim the future seems, the sight sends warmth spreading thorough my chest. Avalon Tower . This feels like home.

I am still clinging to a desperate hope that someone in MI-13 will be able to use this little bracelet. The alternative, seeking help from my father, is one of the most dangerous ideas I've ever entertained. According to a prophecy, those of his bloodline are fated to destroy Camelot, and Mordred has already tried. Centuries ago, he left Avalon Tower full of corpses—Arthur's and Guinevere's included.

To protect Camelot from the prophecy, Raphael has pledged to slaughter all of Queen Morgan's descendants. Long ago, the Fey king Auberon convinced the world that he was the true heir to Queen Morgan's throne. And since then, that's what everyone has believed. Raphael is sure he must kill Auberon.

But what, exactly, would my beautiful lover do if he learned that it was all a mistake? That I was the one on his kill list? Would he murder me, too, or would he sheathe his blade?

Right now, no one knows the truth about me except my father. It doesn't matter how much I distrust the man—our secret is a thorny vine that twines us together in a poisoned garden for two. No one else can come within these walls. It's an alliance I never wanted.

While I'm mulling this over, Serana and Tana join me at the prow to stare at the gilded docks as we approach.

"The city looks even more crowded than when we left," Tana says.

I nod. "More fugitives coming in all the time."

"Even if we take in only the families of the Avalon agents, we'll be running out of space soon," Serana says.

"We don't have any other option. We can't let people's loved ones get captured. They could be used as hostages to turn agents." Tana glances at me. "You haven't been eating enough, have you?"

My appetite has all but disappeared. I'm not sure if it's the loss of Raphael or the secrets that stuff me so full, there's room for little else. "When Raphael gets back, I'm going to eat a seven-course meal."

"Don't be daft, you can't wait for that," Serana says. "You'll wither away."

I tighten my grip on the ship's rail. "I will get him back soon, and I'm not in danger of starvation."

"Stress does the opposite to me," she says. "That whole time I was waiting in the alleyway, all I could think about was apple fritters."

As we glide into the narrow canal, the mist thins. The dawn-kissed stone of Avalon Tower rises above us. Apple trees line the canal, covered in a light dusting of snow. The rising sun washes the crooked timber-frame buildings in gold. Shouts ring out around the wharf as longshoremen and sailors bustle around the docks. I'm desperate to get moving, to jump into my next plan.

I may be home, but I won't rest until Raphael is home, too.

The moment the ship is properly moored, I hurry down the gangplank, my breath puffing in the air. I stride rapidly through the cobbled streets, Tana and Serana falling behind me. I march as quickly as I can beneath stone archways and through crowded streets, heading for the castle. As the street opens up into a square, Avalon Tower's walls loom over shops selling tarot cards and old books. Water streams from stony gargoyle heads in a fountain, and steam rises from the basin in the cold air.

"Slow down, Nia," Tana calls out from behind me.

"Nia!" Another voice—one I haven't heard in days.

I turn, surprised to see Viviane, dressed in a green cloak, poking her head out of a shop door. The sign above her reads Enchanted Brew Coffee in gold letters . Her blue eyes sparkle, and she beckons for us to follow her.

She hated me once. Threatened my life as soon as we met, and a few more times after that. Then she started to teach me everything she knows, and now, I'm deeply relieved to see her again.

The three of us follow her down a narrow road next to the café.

She turns to look back at us, and I'm surprised to see that there are dark circles under her eyes and her platinum hair is tangled beneath the cowl. She usually looks like perfection.

"I forgot you wake up stupidly early," I say.

"That's not the only reason I'm here. I knew you were coming this way, and I wanted to catch you as soon as you came in from the docks." She cuts a furtive glance over my shoulder. "Do you have it?"

I raise my hand to show her the bracelet. "Yes, but it's of no help. The portal closed days ago."

Her pale eyes open wide, jaw clenching. Her nostrils flare, and for a moment, I fear she's about to throw her hot coffee at me, but instead, she says coolly, "That's not good."

"Is there any chance we could use it to open a new portal?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Merlin would have known, but that knowledge was lost to time long ago."

My eyes sting. "Fine. We need a new plan. Should we get back to the Tower to work on it?"

"No. That's why I was waiting for you here. We can't talk about anything at the Tower right now. Let's go to Knight Fall. They've opened it early for us. There are people waiting for us already."

"The tavern? Why?" Realization hits me. "We can't talk around Wrythe and the other Pendragons."

"Exactly. They're getting worse. Wrythe now wants all missions to go through him. I have almost no authority at this point, and neither would Raphael if he were here. Wrythe has been disbanding demi-Fey task forces. He says we need at least one Pendragon agent in each team. Otherwise, he says we're vulnerable to betrayal."

Serana edges forward into the conversation. "He can't do that. Can he?"

Viviane closes her eyes, sighing. "Until Sir Kay returns, the Seneschal is the top-ranked commander in Avalon Tower. I'm afraid it's within his authority."

I turn to my friends. "They'll be serving breakfast soon at Avalon Tower. You two go back. I'll work on a new plan at the tavern."

Tana blinks sleepily. "Are you sure?—"

"Sounds good to me." Serana grabs Tana's arm. "It's Tuesday. They'll be doing scones, and Nia doesn't have an appetite, anyway. Thanks, Nia, you're my favorite person ever. Come on, Tana, let's go. I could eat my way through the stone walls of the Tower at this point."

Viviane stares after her. "She didn't put up much of a fight. Come along."

She briskly leads me back into the town square and past the burbling fountain.

We pass shops and pubs with painted signs and magical symbols. We sweep past a bakery, the mullioned windows stuffed with fresh bread, pies, and sugary marzipan confections. For the first time in ages, I actually feel hungry.

Viviane's long legs carry her past the crowded shops at a fast clip. I wheeze, trying to keep up. My asthma worsens in the winter. I pull out my inhaler for two more puffs, and my breathing opens up a bit.

As we reach another small town square, the Knight Fall Tavern looms over it. Made of aged stone with a steeply pitched roof, the tavern almost looks like an gothic manor house. Warm light beams from lead-framed windows, and esoteric symbols glimmer on the door frame. When we get closer, I feel a familiar thrum of magic from within, a tug between my ribs.

Nivene, the other Sentinel, is in the tavern, waiting for me.

As if hearing my thoughts, Viviane turns to me before she pulls open the door. "Nivene is trying to convince me to lead a coup and throw all the Pendragons out. Which, frankly, sounds tempting at this point."

"Of course she is."

Avalon's other Sentinel has no patience for diplomacy, but a war with Wrythe would be dangerous beyond belief. The Pendragon leader would probably rather help the Fey kill us all than give up his seat of power.

I step inside behind Viviane. The tavern has crooked stone walls, rough-hewn wood columns, and cozy alcoves lit by candles. At this hour, the tavern is mostly empty, apart from a man in a cloak nursing a steaming cup of coffee by the fireplace.

Across the room, I spot Nivene sitting at a round table in one of the corners, her red hair fiery in the candlelight. She beckons us closer, already impatient, and I slide into an empty seat beside her.

Viviane pulls out a chair. "Tell her the bad news, Nia."

I shake my head. "We have the key, but the portal closed days ago."

Nivene's shoulders sag. "Well, fuck."

I swallow hard. "Do either of you have another idea? Anything ?"

The disappointment on their faces is answer enough.

Viviane drops her head into her hands. She's desperate to free Raphael, too. She's known him even longer than I have, and she depends on him. Now, she seems lost. In Avalon Tower, it can be hard to find someone you can truly trust, so when you do find that person, you want to protect them with your life.

"This just makes it all the more urgent," Nivene hisses. "We can't have Wrythe running the show. He'll destroy us all. Without Raphael or Sir Kay to hold him back, he'll take apart Avalon Tower stone by stone?—"

"I am not about to start a mutiny right now!" Viviane snarls. "It would be a gift to Auberon."

"Don't be an idiot," Nivene says. "Wrythe has already pitted us against each other. Pendragons and humans on one side, demi-Fey on the other. And anyway, who said mutiny? I'm simply suggesting a slight shift in the command structure."

Viviane's fingers tighten into fists. "You said we should arrest Wrythe and kill anyone who gets in our way."

"I was brainstorming. If you have an issue with slaughtering the Pendragons, we can put a pin in that and circle back later. I'm open to alternatives. I mean, we have both Sentinels on our side?—"

"I don't want to join a mutiny," I say.

"All I'm saying is that if you both do come around to my plan, the other agents will join in," Nivene adds, folding her arms. "If we get rid of the Pendragons, we can invest every available resource into finding another way into Brocéliande. It wouldn't hurt to kill the people stopping us from making progress. Think about it: we kill a few in a brutal fashion, and the rest will fall in line out of fear."

Viviane sighs and looks at me. "Okay, let's ignore the mob boss here for a second. We need Raphael back, and your psychic friend thinks we can free him. She's seen it in her cards. And she said specifically that it's supposed to be you. So, if anyone has an idea, it would be you."

My breath catches, and a storm rages in my thoughts. Mordred claims he can get me to Brocéliande. Viviane said that the knowledge of opening new portals to Brocéliande is lost to time—but Mordred is literally from the time of Merlin. He fought and survived a battle against the great wizard.

But what will my allies do if I tell them the truth? I don't imagine they'd be into the idea of forming an alliance with Avalon Tower's worst enemy.

Before I have a chance to form a sentence, I see Viviane's eyes flick up over my head, and her jaw clenches.

A cold and familiar voice echoes behind me. "Well, what do we have here?"

My skin chills, and I swivel in my chair to see Wrythe Pendragon standing in the doorway, arms folded.

"Hi, Wrythe, grab a seat," Viviane says, not missing a beat. "We were just about to order breakfast."

"No thanks, I'll stand." As he walks closer, his gaze slides to me. "I see that our illustrious Sentinel has returned from her mission. But for some reason, she decided to stop in a tavern instead of reporting to me in Merlin's Tower."

I drum my fingertips on the table, trying to act casual. "I ran into Viviane by sheer luck. And she's the one who sent me on the mission."

His blond mustache twitches, and he adjusts his scarf, probably to remind us who he is. The scarf is embroidered with the Pendragon insignia, a shield with a crown and a severed head in the center. He lifts his chin. "I'm the Seneschal, lest you forget. Everyone should report to me."

"Is that right?" Nivene mutters. "Because I'd rather report to a drainage pipe." For once, she doesn't shout.

"What was that?" Wrythe takes another step closer, narrowing his eyes.

"She said she likes to report to the manager types," I blurt. "Like you."

Wrythe arches an eyebrow. "Right. Good. I wouldn't want to have to court-martial anyone for insubordination."

Viviane claps her hands together. "Fantastic. Well, if that's all, I actually do need to finish hearing Nia's report."

Wrythe nods. "As do I. So, Dame Nia, did you manage to find a key into Brocéliande?"

Reflexively, I let my sleeve drop a bit, hiding the bracelet. "Unfortunately, no. The portal is already closed."

He nods. "Perhaps your next mission requires the experienced hand of a Pendragon officer, like my niece Genivieve or my nephew Tarquin."

Tarquin, who tried to beat me to death. That Tarquin?

Viviane's lips tighten into a thin line. "Her team included three knights, one of them with Avalon Steel, which is more than any of us have."

"And yet, they failed." Wrythe shrugs. "I think we need to disband that particular team. It's not working out.'

I stare at him in shock. "The portal would be closed no matter who went on that mission."

Wrythe yawns, but I think he's faking boredom. "We have a new policy enacted as of today. Every team we send into the field will contain a human agent, preferably a Pendragon. We deem this safer for everyone."

"Are you suggesting we will be safer with humans, who move sluggishly and have zero magical skills to help us?" Nivene says acidly.

Wrythe ignores her, keeping his eyes on mine. "Furthermore, all newly appointed demi-Fey agents need to go through a mandatory three-month training course in which they'll learn more about what it means to assimilate into human society. What our traditional human values are. You are, after all, living in our world. And we have welcomed you here, but you must learn our ways."

I stand, stunned. Wrythe glances at me, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of fear cross his face.

"I'm from L.A. I don't need to learn about the human world."

He winces. "Be that as it may, the moment we start making exceptions for one person, it's going to be chaos. I'm afraid we will be taking a hard line on this."

I stare at him, and I notice his hand slide almost imperceptibly toward the pommel of his sword.

During the final trials, I mind-controlled him. Since then, he's made sure to stay as far away from my touch as possible. His obvious fear is a little satisfying, but it's probably not helping my situation. "Well, I'd better get to work learning about humans, I guess," I mutter. "Though I suspect I know a great deal more about normal human behavior than you do, Sir Wrythe."

Furious, I stride out of the tavern. The morning sun has risen higher in the sky, and I blink in the light. My heart thuds, and my face is hot with anger. I now understand what Nivene was talking about. Wrythe is trying to kneecap the demi-Fey until we're no longer a functioning part of Avalon Tower.

Maybe Nivene is right. Not about the slaughter, but…

I catch sight of a person with blond, gleaming hair marching toward me between ramshackle stone shops, and my heart sinks. Great, the only person who could make this day worse.

His pinched nostrils flare as he grins at me. "Hello, hello," Tarquin croons. "None other than the illustrious Dame Nia. The Avalon Steel, or so they say."

"Fuck off, Tarquin, I'm not in the mood."

He puts his palm on his chest, his expression hurt. "First of all, it's Sir Tarquin now. And is that any way to talk to someone who looks after the safety of your loved ones?"

"My loved ones?" My stomach flips as I try to figure out what he means. Is he talking about Raphael?

Behind him, a woman runs toward me, waving and smiling like a maniac. My pounding heart registers her identity before my brain does. For a second, I stare at the familiar face so out of place here: large lips overdrawn with red liner, bleached blond hair growing in dark at the roots, thin frame and gaunt cheeks.

"Nia?" Her voice is too loud, and it echoes off the stone buildings.

My jaw drops for a few seconds before I manage to find my voice.

" Mom ?"