Queen of Avalon (Broken Throne Book 3)

by Jamie Davis

  Then, the world went black.

  ———

  Garraldi and his team watched the speech continue on the monitor mounted by the building’s southernmost exit. Another roving patrol was approaching. He prepared to hand along Morgan’s password. He heard Kane’s words as he drew the forged ID from his pocket for the officer in charge.

  “But never fear,” Kane continued. “I have foreseen the attack on this building. My Red Legs are prepared to take down these subversives. We are eliminating the threat as I speak. Observe the monitors to see one such group — disguised as our own Red Legs — as they’re taken into custody.”

  The view changed, now showing a long hallway. It took Garraldi seconds to recognize that it was where he was now standing.

  And then he saw his own face staring back at him.

  He turned to his men, hoping to warn them, but it was too late.

  Garraldi reached for his sidearm, but was swarmed by a wave of guards pouring in from the stairwell doors on the exit’s either side. He struck out with his elbow at the first approaching Red Leg and was rewarded by a satisfying crunch to the man’s nose.

  The attacker went down, immediately replaced by two more and others coming from the opposite side. Garraldi swung around, working to shake the hands from his body.

  The clubs descended, battering him to the floor.

  Soon, he lost consciousness.

  Garraldi’s final thought before the darkness overcame him was how he’d failed Cait’s charge to watch over Winnie.

  ———

  Morgan was fixed to the screen, watching as Garraldi’s team was swamped by a horde of Red Legs. She had tuned out the Director’s speech and reached for her comm switch to change the channel to the all-hands circuit.

  A hand fell atop hers on the console. She looked to see a tall officer standing beside her chair.

  “I don’t think we need you calling for help, Officer Bennett,” the woman said. “There’s no one left to call. We’ve taken care of your conspiracy. Your compatriots have been captured. You’ll all be taken to court and charged with treason.”

  Her mind swam. She looked around for a way to escape. Everyone in the room was looking at her. Guards by the door were coming her way.

  Morgan tried to reach the comm switch; she had to warn the team.

  She winced, then yelped in pain when the woman guard gripped her wrist and twisted it to an awkward angle.

  “You swore an oath, Officer Bennett. You swore to protect and serve the people of this nation.” The woman’s spittle sprayed Morgan’s face. “I’ll relish watching your execution most of all.”

  Morgan tried to stand, tried to run, but the guards pushed her to the floor and kicked her with everything they had.

  She cried, trying to block the many heavy blows. Her arm snapped under a steel-toed boot. She looked up one last time before a blow struck her in the back of the head and turned everything black.

  ———

  Maria Ford, the Director’s personal assistant, was annoyed.

  She’d been sent off to pick up a special report from the executive mail room at the behest of Chief Inspector Holmes. The man was a respected part of Kane’s inner circle. But when she reached the mail room, Maria found no package waiting. It had taken a while to verify. The staff was all busy watching the wall screens.

  She heard Kane’s voice, but tuned him out, trying to manage her anger at being kept waiting. She finally got the supervisor to look through the incoming packages for anything resembling Holmes’s request. After long minutes of searching, he returned to Maria empty-handed.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Ford. There are no packages or letters matching that description. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Nothing at this time.” Maria pointed to the monitors. “What’s happening? Is the speech already over?”

  “Oh, it’s all quite exciting,” the supervisor said. “Director Kane has just exposed a plot to attack the building during the open house festivities. Chanter terrorists must’ve been planning to blow the place up or something. There was video footage of Red Legs descending on attackers throughout the building.”

  Maria felt suddenly cold. Had she been away from her desk too long, and missed something the Director needed her to do?

  The supervisor saw her expression. “Don’t worry, Ms Ford. Everything is fine now. The Director says all the attackers are in custody, thanks to our valiant Red Legs. It’s great to be on the right side of things, isn’t it?”

  “Uh, yes. Yes, it is.” Maria felt sick to her stomach. “I need to get back. I’m sure the Director will need my assistance when he returns.” She turned to leave.

  “Make sure you tell him how hard we’re working down here,” the supervisor called behind her.

  Maria checked her watch as she hurried down the hallway. She’d been away for more than fifteen minutes. Was that long enough to access the Director’s office without her knowledge?

  Surely the chief inspector couldn’t be in on this plot?

  Her heels clacked on the marble floors as she made her way back to the outer office. Once there, she saw no sign of Inspector Holmes, but the double doors to the interior office were open. Her shoulders slumped. She’d failed in her duties.

  Maria could hear Director Kane’s angry voice booming from inside.

  She was just about to go in and see what was happening when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and blanched at the number.

  She tapped the screen to answer then listened to the voice speak a singular word: “Talisman.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Winnie and Cricket opened the office doors and entered Director Kane’s inner sanctum. This was the center of power against which she’d fought for nearly two years. This was the man responsible for all the death and destruction against the chanters for whom she fought.

  She scanned the room. It was longer than it was broad. A sprawling bookcase occupied one entire wall. She grazed the room with her eyes, stopping when they reached the massive throne sculpture.

  She stared in disbelief. “It can’t be,” Winnie whispered, not even realizing that she’d spoken aloud.

  “What, Boss?” Cricket was standing beside her. He glanced up, curious.

  “I’ve seen that sculpture before.”

  “So?” Cricket pointed at the throne. “It’s too small to hide his files. We’re looking for a door to another room.”

  “That’s the stone chair from my dream. And the twins — they’ve dreamed about it, too. I don’t know why, but it’s important.”

  Cricket gripped her arm and swung her around to face him. “I need you to focus. Maybe the chair is important, but we’ll have to work it out later. Right now, we have to find the secret room and get out of here. We don’t have much time.”

  “You’re right. Let’s split up. I’ll check around his desk at the far end. You check on this end. We’ll meet in the middle.”

  Cricket nodded and got to work. He was running his hands along the walls, searching for signs of a door or misaligned paneling. He’d shown Winnie how to do the same thing. She walked to the far end of the room to search the walls, using her hands and eyes. But her attention kept drifting back to the sculpture.

  She tried to remember what she’d done in the dream. Something about the sword.

  Cricket had moved to the wall of bookshelves and was checking the seams between the bookcases, efficiently working his way towards the center of the room.

  Winnie dragged her attention away from the sculpture, continuing to search for a room, a hidden filing cabinet, or anything that might indicate where Kane was hiding his files.

  Cricket shouted with glee and pointed to the wall. “I found it. There’s a door built into this section of the shelves. We just need to find the latch that holds it closed and we’re in business. This has to be it.”

  Winnie was glad one of them could pay attention. She hurried to where he stood and looked at the bookshelf. But she di
dn’t see anything. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Cricket. He pointed, then ran his hands along the wood between bookshelf sections.

  “See, the seams don’t match up the way the others do. There’s a bit of a gap, too. This is the door, I’m sure of it.”

  “So, what next?”

  “We have to find the catch that opens it,” Cricket explained. “It’ll be a lever or a button to depress. Something like that.”

  Winnie felt along the tops of the books, using her fingers to probe behind them, searching for the lever Cricket was sure had to be there. He was searching on the lower shelves but Winnie thought it would be something at eye level for her or perhaps a man of Kane’s six-foot height. She was about to move to a new shelf when her fingers brushed something behind one of the books.

  She stopped and looked at the book — a thick, leather-bound tome entitled, The Magical History of Europe. She pulled the book out and reached into the gap to find a round lever behind the book.

  Winnie slid the lever to one side then heard a click. The bookshelf section popped open a few inches. Winnie stepped back as Cricket gripped the shelf’s edge and pulled.

  It swung open to a small room with a table and a few filing cabinets on the other side.

  “Damn, Cricket, we found it!”

  “Did you ever doubt me?” Cricket smirked.

  “Come on, we’ve got to find the files that prove Kane’s a chanter, then we can get out of here.”

  Cricket entered, then Winnie followed. He started with the filing cabinets while she shuffled through the papers on the table. There was so much here, and they didn’t have long to mine the most damning evidence.

  She found several mentions of magical experiments and eventually discovered one detailing the spells Kane personally used on his prisoners. She found another description of the Harvester as a concept to capture magical energy from chanters.

  Winnie scooped everything into a bundle and looked over at Cricket. He was still only halfway through his files. Winnie pulled out her radio and dialed Morgan. She had to check in and see how much time they had.

  “Top floor checking in on progress,” Winnie said.

  No answer.

  She waited a few seconds and repeated her request. “Top floor checking in on progress.” She turned to Cricket and shrugged.

  “Maybe this room is shielded or something,” Cricket suggested. “Try from outside.”

  Winnie nodded and held the radio to her mouth as she walked back into Kane’s office from the hidden room. “Top floor to communications — come in, Morgan. Are you there?”

  “I don’t think your friend will be answering, Ms. Durham.”

  Winnie froze and turned.

  Nils Kane stood there, flanked by a dozen Red Leg guards. Two of them held Victor and Danny — both with their hands cuffed and mouths gagged. Their eyes conveyed the words their mouths could not. They implored her to run, do anything she could to get away.

  Since Kane and his Red Legs blocked the room’s only exit, Winnie didn’t see escape as an option. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything she could use to escape or defend herself.

  Her gaze settled on the strange sculpture and the sword hilt jutting from its body.

  The sculpture was only a few feet away.

  Kane must have seen her eyes dart to the sword. He laughed. “Oh, don’t be fooled by that, my dear. It’s an old art piece that’s been in my family for years. That old sword won’t come free, no matter what you do. Believe me, I’ve tried. Unfortunately, my dear, there’s nothing you can do.”

  “I won’t just go along without a fight, Kane.”

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  Cricket charged from the small room, trying to reach Kane.

  With a slashing motion, Kane sent flows of magic coalescing around Cricket and forcing him to the floor. “Are there any more traitors in there, my dear?”

  Winnie shook her head. She reached out with her mind, drawing in as much magic as she could, wove a fist of air and sent it at Kane.

  He laughed, and faster than she thought possible, wove a counter spell and batted the magical punch aside. “My dear, you can never best me at battle. I’m much more accomplished at my use of magic than you are.”

  Nils pulled in magic for a counterstrike. Winnie could see his undeniable power. It was daunting. At the last instant, she managed to draw in enough strength for a magic shield. It blunted but didn’t stop Kane’s attack, striking her with enough force to knock her down.

  Winnie tried to stand, rebuild the shield which had shattered under the Director’s blow. But before she could rise, another strike slammed her between the shoulders, driving her to the floor and knocking the wind from her body.

  Winnie couldn’t stop him. At least, not with her magic.

  She didn’t know what to do, but refused to stay down.

  She’d fallen behind the sculpture and she used the rough-hewn rock to find handholds to pull herself slowly back to her feet while Kane moved into position.

  As Winnie pulled herself up, her hand grasped the hilt jutting above the back of the throne. She yanked it in an effort to regain her feet and felt the blade shift a bit in the stone.

  She managed to stand, then turned to see Kane drawing fresh magic for what must be an even more powerful attack.

  Without thinking, Winnie pulled upward.

  The blade slipped free of the stone with no resistance.

  Kane stood, frozen, staring in disbelief.

  Then he suddenly swung his arms towards her, releasing his massive attack. Winnie cried out and held the sword in front of her, reflexively slicing the air between herself and Director Kane.

  The blade somehow cut through the waves of advancing magic, parting them as the bow of a ship might split the waves.

  The magic slid harmlessly past her, dissipating into nothing.

  Kane fell backwards when he saw what she did with the sword. His eyes were crazed, his expression almost concerned as he stared. “Give me the sword, Winnie.”

  “I don’t think so,” Winnie said. “This sword might be our ticket out of here.”

  “That sword has been in my family for centuries. It belongs to me.”

  Kane gestured with one hand at the Red Legs behind him. Two of them unholstered their sidearms and pointed them at Victor’s and Danny’s heads.

  “Release the sword or I’ll have your friends executed in front of you. You have until ten to decide.”

  Winnie looked from Kane to Danny and Victor. Both shook their heads, telling her to not give in. But how could she not?

  “Ten … nine … eight … seven … ”

  They might live if she turned over the sword, though they’d surely all be executed as traitors eventually anyway.

  Kane continued to count down as Winnie agonized over her answer.

  A woman in a dark blazer and skirt entered the room behind Kane and the Red Legs, drawing her attention and distracting Kane. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to Winnie, smiling.

  “She’s no help for you, my dear. That’s my assistant, Maria. She already knows what I’m capable of doing. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Five … four … three … two …”

  Kane never reached one.

  Maria shouted a single word, pulled a gun from under her blazer, and fired at the two guards aiming pistols at her friends.

  “Talisman.”

  CHAPTER 43

  Winnie stared, confusion washing across her.

  She’d been about to give the sword to Kane when the woman burst into the room. Her well-placed shots dropped the two guards about to execute Danny and Victor and her single shouted word seemed to have an even stranger effect.

  Four of the Red Legs from the group’s rear pulled out their pistols and started shooting the guards in front of them.

  Danny and Victor fell to the floor as bullets started flying.

  Winnie was afraid they’d been hit by one of the bulle
ts, but she saw Victor wrestling to free his hands with the keys from a downed guard’s keychain. Danny was trying to push himself away from the action on his belly.

  A bullet whined past her head. She dove behind the stone throne to avoid the crossfire.

  After a few seconds of rapid fire pistol shots careening around the room, the shooting stopped, and Winnie poked her head up around the throne.

  All the guards were down, save three in the back. They must be with the woman who’d freed them. Victor had managed to free himself and was unlocking Danny’s cuffs.

  The woman was barking orders to the three guards still standing. “Get all the wounded Red Legs cuffed so we don’t have any wannabe heroes. I’ll see to our charges.”

  She circled around the pile of moaning and writhing bodies on the floor to approach Kane, crouched to the floor, as shocked by the events as Winnie.

  “Get up,” the woman said, gesturing with her pistol. “Don’t try any magic or I’ll have to kill you, no matter what Artos wants me to do.”

  “Maria?” Director Kane said. “You’ve served me so well. How could you betray me like this, after so many years? What is Artos paying you?”

  “Nothing, you fool,” Maria said with a loud burst of laughter. “Not all of us are sheep waiting for slaughter by you and your kind. There are middlings like myself who know what you are. Now, we have what we need to discredit you once and for all. With the recordings I’ve made of you casting spells and trying to murder that girl, you’ll be finished once and for all.”

  Maria walked to the bookshelf then reached up to retrieve a book. She pulled it down and flipped it open. The interior was cut out; a camera was secreted inside, capturing video through a hole in the spine. Maria removed the camera and looked over to Winnie, still crouched behind the sculpture.

  “You can come out now. We don’t have much time. There are only a few of us in the building, and my other compatriots are working to free your friends. We need to leave. Now.”

  “What about him?” Winnie pointed to Kane, thinking of all the people who’d died at his hands. Thinking of Cait. “Why can’t we kill him? He deserves to die for all that he’s done.”