Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

I t's late at night, but I'm thundering down the stairs, my heart slamming. My thoughts rage as I rush outside into the cold.

I lift my cloak to walk swiftly to the portal.

I have to get a message to Avalon Tower tonight. They'll have two days to prepare, to come up with a proper strategic response and coordinate it with the units on the ground. With Talan recuperating, I can easily disappear tonight without worrying that he'll show up in my room. I'll row the tiny boat to Camelot and then?—

I stumble and stop in my place, aghast, staring in disbelief at the jagged ring stones beyond the willow tree.

My breath leaves my lungs. Tonight, the portal is surrounded by guards.

To them, the portal is invisible, undetectable. As far as they know, they're standing around a few stumpy, jagged rocks with a new addition—a young sapling, freshly planted in the snowy earth between the stones.

What. The. Fuck.

I get my heartbeat under control and calmly stroll toward the guards, a tiny smile on my lips. As I get closer, I recognize one of them. It's the soldier I saw earlier in Talan's room.

Fear crawls up my nape.

"Evening, my lady," he says respectfully when I'm a few yards away. "How fares the prince?"

"He's doing remarkably well," I say. "He'll be up and about in no time. It'll take more than some iron to fell the grandson of Queen Morgan."

"That's good to hear."

I straighten, trying to gain control of the situation. "So, I see you're following your instructions." I nod at the tree.

He glances at the sapling, then turns back to me. He's clearly confused. "Oh. Um, yes. I wasn't sure if you knew about it. I assumed he might intend it as a surprise."

I let out a small, careless laugh. "Talan and I don't keep secrets from each other. Of course I know about it. I find it a bit strange, though."

The guard shuffles uncomfortably. "Well, the prince has an unusual mind. When he first told me to plant a tree to commemorate your love, I suggested that he wait until the end of winter. It is hard for things to grow at this time of year. But he liked the symbolism of it."

Sure, he does. "I see," I say, my heart sinking. "It'll be hard to get it to take root in this cold. On the farm, we never planted anything around this time."

"He was quite insistent. Perhaps if you suggest that we could plant later in the year, after the snow thaws…" He leaves the words hanging.

"Well, you know the prince," I say. "Once his mind is set…"

"Of course." He smiles at me.

"And I see you planted it right where he told you."

He tenses, looking back at it. "Yes. I checked several times. He was very clear that I must not get it wrong. This is the exact position he indicated."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Royalty. You'd think he'd ask me first. After all, I know more than the prince does about gardening. The ground here is incredibly rocky, and most of the day, it's cast in shadows from that giant willow. It'll be impossible for the tree to thrive here. It'd be better to move the sapling to a sunnier location. Maybe the eastern side of the fortress."

"The prince was very insistent," the guard says with a tight smile. "This is the location."

"That's probably the delirium." I sigh. "Iron poisoning. I think the prince will be most grateful if you move the tree commemorating our love somewhere it can actually grow. If it dies, I imagine the prince will be furious. It will seem like a bad omen, planted by you."

The guard swallows. "With all due respect, my lady, the prince told me that if the sapling isn't right where it is when he checks on it, we will all be executed on the spot. Specifically, he mentioned ripping my lungs out through my back. So, I will keep it here, I think."

I act exasperated. "And I assume he instructed you to guard it?"

The man nods. "Four guards, fully armed, at all times. Prince Talan knows that your love is…criticized at court. He doesn't want the tree vandalized."

I consider touching him, forcing my mind into his, prodding him to leave. But if Talan threatened all four guards, I would need to mind control each of them. Impossible.

"Of course. How thoughtful of him. Well, gentlemen, I hope you have a nice evening."

They bid me farewell, and I turn away, my heart hammering.

As I stalk across the courtyard, I glance back at the portal, my thoughts roiling.

I'm now trapped here.

This is, of course, a very Talan thing to do. A random, chaotic, outrageous demand that will get everyone rolling their eyes at the capricious prince. And it hides his true intention—to keep anyone from approaching the ley portal.

Obviously, a tree planted at this very position, constantly guarded by four men, is not a coincidence. Nor does it have a single fucking thing to do with our "love."

Panic bleeds into my thoughts. He knows about the portal, and he probably suspects that it's being used by human agents. The only bright spot is that he isn't connecting these agents to me, or I'd already be in the dungeons, my bones breaking on a rack. But why go through the charade of telling the guards that they're guarding a tree?

Because no one else knows about this ley portal. That must be the reason. Specifically, Auberon doesn't know about it, and Talan wants to control and use that knowledge for his own agenda.

Why now?

It must be because of Arwenna's attempt on my life. He's assuming that the iron was smuggled through the portal. Stupid of her to use an iron-tipped arrow right next to the prince himself. Clearly, the woman isn't in her right mind anymore. If she gets caught, I wonder if her family will have enough wealth and political capital to get her out of the consequences.

But where did she get the iron? There is no iron in Brocéliande. The only people who might have it are likely to be working with me.

But that's a problem for later. Right now, I have a much more urgent problem. I have two days to get a message to Avalon Tower about Talan's trap.

And I have no conceivable way of getting to them.

The tavern's lights beam warmly onto the dirt road, and as I step inside the Shadowed Thicket, the smell of stale beer hits me.

My heart thrums as I look around me. This late at night, there are a few drunks here and there. A group of men are laughing uproariously at some joke one of them made, and the jokester seems positively pleased with himself. I suddenly envy them. I wish that could be me, having a simple night with friends with no immediate worries except for tomorrow's hangover.

I cross to the barman. "Hey," I say. "Remember me?"

He wipes a glass, his expression bored. "What can I get ya?"

"I need to see Meriadec. It's urgent."

"Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name. I have a niece called Merielle, but she turned into a right twat when her girlfriend dumped her."

I grip the bar. "Oh, come on. I was here just a few weeks ago."

"And now you're here again. It's understandable. Best mead in Corbinelle."

Vaguely, it reminds me of the pass phrase that Nivene used. "Right. Okay…give me a glass of that mead."

He puts the glass he had been wiping on the counter and pours a measure of a nefarious looking liquid. I take a sip. Ghastly.

I eye him. "This is good. Almost as good as the mead I drank at my coming-of-age dance, back in, uh…" My mind is drawing a blank. "You know. Back in that place. Where I had my coming-of-age dance."

"Uh-huh." He picks up a new glass and steadily begins to wipe it.

"Come on! This mead is good . That's the phrase, right? It tastes like piss in reality. You can't possibly hear that often. Or really, ever."

He stops wiping the glass and fixes his stare on me. "That mead is my ma's recipe."

"Oh."

"She died in the famine."

"I'm, uh…sorry for your loss. But I really need to see Meriadec."

He nods. "I can see if my niece is interested. You might be her type."

"It's all right, Brados."

I turn to see Meriadec shuffling over, and he takes the stool next to me. "She's good."

"Didn't know the pass phrase," Brados says pointedly, "and she insulted my dear ma's mead."

"Well." Meriadec shrugs. "Can't account for different tastes. Pour me a glass."

Brados does so and walks off, leaving us alone.

"What's going on, Nia?" Meriadec asks. "If any of your darling prince's spies see us here together, they might wonder what you and your drunk father are doing so far from home."

I eye him. "I'm going to need you to get back to the farm for a few days, at least. Talan might look for me there. You'll need to tell him that I stopped by, but I've gone into hiding. Make him think I'm still in Brocéliande, okay?"

"What do you have planned?"

I'm trying to think of how much I should share with Meriadec. I lower my voice. "First things first. Did you smuggle iron through the ley portal?"

He takes a thoughtful sip from his mug. "Nivene did, and she handed it to me for safekeeping."

"But you sold some of that iron, didn't you?" I hiss.

He shrugs. "I had a good offer for it. Some noble wanted it to off another noble. What do I care? I spent decades here starving. Every day a noble dies is a good day for us. And the revolution needs money."

" I was the noble!" I snarl.

He frowns at me, looking unimpressed. "Oh. Well, you seem fine. And arguably, this only helps your cover, right?"

"Except for the fact that this caused the prince to station guards around the ley portal," I say. "He knows that's where the iron came through. I'm trapped here now."

"Oh, shit."

"Yes. Very much, ‘Oh, shit.'"

"I didn't know the prince even knew about the ley portal." His eyes sharpen on me. "It's your job to find those things out."

"Yeah, well, he's a secretive person. He probably didn't know anyone was using it. But once he found out about the smuggled iron, he realized the truth." I pause, deep in thought, then slap the counter. "Saxa!"

"What?"

"That's where I had my coming-of-age dance. Hey, Brados, my coming-of-age dance was in Saxa!"

Brados lifts his eyes from the glass and glances at me, clearly unimpressed.

"Anyway, I need to get back to Avalon Tower," I say. "I have some information I desperately need to pass on."

"From what you're describing, that's a problem."

"Worst-case scenario, I fight my way to the portal to get through. But that'll blow my cover, so I won't be coming back."

"That's not an option," he says emphatically. "Plans are in motion. You can't just blow your cover and leave us hanging."

"There's another possibility," I say slowly. I put my hand in my pocket, feeling the portal key I stole from Talan's room. "But I think I'll need help. How quickly can you get Raphael here?"

"He's in hiding on the outskirts of town," Meriadec says. "I can get him here within an hour."

"Good. Let's do that." I sip my mead. "Hey, Brados, did a young woman recently show up here? Silver eyes? Really pretty?"

Brados nods. "Ysolde. She's been here for a while. Staying in one of our rooms."

"Good. We should get her here, too. Raphael will want to meet her."