Morgana Trilogy Complete Series

by Alessa Ellefson

  “Then what would…” Sir Eric starts.

  Lady Parcenet hiccups in shock. “No!” she exclaims.

  “We thought this might be an issue,” Arthur says, “which is why we sought you out first. But we fear this may be our only choice, and that is why I hereby formally request the authorization to send a delegation to the Fey.”

  Lady Parcenet lets out a sharp squeak.

  “I can see your point,” Sir Pelles says after a moment’s reflection. “However, finding a Fey of such power will be a very dangerous enterprise. Not to mention the fact that our relations with them are rather…strained.”

  “But such an alliance has been formed before,” Arthur says. “That’s how Carman was imprisoned in the first place.”

  “That may be so,” Sir Eric says dismissively, “but I doubt our ancestors had been waging an ongoing war with them at the time.”

  “What if I could prove to you that our relations with them might not be as bad as they seem?” Arthur asks.

  “Your proposal has its merits, however tenuous it may seem,” Sir Pelles says, “but it is a decision I cannot make alone.”

  Arthur bows respectfully. “I thank you for your consideration,” he says. “I will bring it up again with the Council then.”

  “Good luck with that,” Lady Parcenet says. “Nobody would be fool enough to allow anyone to get friendly with the enemy, especially with the perpetrator behind the fall of the school wards still on the loose.”

  “But you do have a great bargaining tool at your disposition that might be able to tip the scales in your favor,” the chinless woman says, speaking for the first time. “Perhaps an exchange of sorts could be negotiated.”

  Arthur tenses up. “No,” he says.

  “You may have no choice in the matter,” Sir Eric says, resuming his birdlike head-bobbing.

  I lean forward, my breath fogging the glass before me. What are they talking ab—

  My hair gets yanked back and I let out a cry of surprise.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Jennifer asks. “I’ve called you ten times already, but instead of doing your duty I find you spying?”

  Her icy blue eyes sweep over the courtyard and I see her pupils contract when they alight upon the Board delegation. Her grip tightens until it feels like my hair’s going to be ripped out of my skull.

  “Eyeing things that don’t belong to you again?” she whispers harshly in my ear.

  “Which one are you talking about?” I ask back through gritted teeth. “The official one or the secret one?”

  Jennifer pushes me into the glass door with a snarl, and one of the windows shatters as I ram headfirst into it.

  “Lady Jennifer!” I hear the teacher exclaim in shock.

  I wince as I straighten up, blinking at the blood slowly dripping down my face.

  “Jealousy is not a good trait to have, you know,” I say, turning to face Jennifer, “as you’ve just demonstrated.”

  “You, changeling, need to be taught a lesson in manners,” Sophie says, advancing upon me as the rest of the class crowds in around us.

  “This is most outrageous!” I hear Sir Nigel whimper somewhere beyond the wall of students circling me.

  “You are a stain on the Squires’ honor,” Jennifer’s pimply-faced squire continues. “Nothing you do can hide the fact that you’re a demon: Ever since you got here, we’ve been hit by one disaster after another. I think that makes it abundantly clear what needs to be done, don’t you?”

  “Why don’t you just shut up,” I say, my mouth gone dry, “or this Fey’ll make sure those pustules never leave your face.”

  “Squire Morgan!” Sir Nigel’s falsetto says over the din. “Threatening your classmate is inexcusable. You’ve forgotten all about the five knightly virtues: courtesy, piety, chastity, genero—”

  “I always knew there was something nasty about you,” Jennifer says, cutting the professor off. “I sensed it the moment Arthur decided to bring you down here.”

  “Whatever,” I say with a shrug. “There’s no point talking to a pathetic smellfungus[66] like you.”

  I hear someone choke back a laugh, and the pink drains from Jennifer’s cheeks.

  “What did you call me?” she asks.

  “A smell—fung—us,” I repeat, enunciating every syllable. “An overly critical, ignorant fool. Hasn’t anybody told you only the dumbest of the dumb think they know everything already?”

  Jennifer’s hand whips around and connects with my jaw in a thunderous clap.

  “Guess that hit close to the truth,” I snarl, cupping my burning cheek.

  “I know what rankles you,” Jennifer says. “You have the hots for my boyfriend and you hate that he’d never go for you.”

  I grin. “I think you have our roles exchanged,” I say. “What is it that bothers you most? That your title’s your only appeal or that he’s been more inclined to spend time with me lately instead of you?”

  Jennifer’s eyes blaze with fury. “Hagalaz!” she intones, flinging her hand towards me.

  I instinctively recoil, expecting a blast of hail to hit me straight on, but nothing happens. Blinking, I lower my arms to find Jennifer’s surprised face staring at me, and burst out in a relieved laughter.

  “Did you not charge my ogham back properly?” Jennifer asks her squire through clenched teeth.

  “I swear I did,” Sophie whispers back to her. “But a lot of oghams haven’t been functioning lately.”

  She looks positively alarmed, and there’s no denying she should be: Jennifer’s bound to have her skinned alive for this, even if the incident isn’t her fault.

  “I had heard your title as a knight was only honorary,” I say, redirecting Jennifer’s fury onto me against my better judgment. “I guess I’ve got proof now. That’s the trouble with people who brag without having the skills to back it up, it always ends up biting them back in the ass.”

  Maybe it’s because I’m still somewhat disoriented from cutting my head on the door, compounded with Jennifer’s slap, or maybe it’s because I’ve gotten too cocky myself, but I don’t see Jennifer spring towards me. Her knee suddenly digs sharply into my stomach, and air whooshes out of my lungs.

  Gasping, I slowly sink to the floor as a tingling sensation starts deep in my guts and quickly travels through my veins, eager to be let out.

  No, I tell myself, willing my energy back into its hole. Not now…not here….

  “That’s right, cower at her feet, you disgusting piece of trash!” Sophie yells, spittle flying out of her mouth.

  I curl up as she kicks me, her booted foot breaking my nose upon contact and splitting my lip, before she stomps hard on my chest. I scream in pain as I feel one of my ribs crack, the sound drowned out by the cheering crowd.

  “Stop,” I breathe, tears flowing down my cheeks. “Please!”

  “They should’ve cut out your tongue,” Jennifer says, as her squire kicks me in the stomach, redoubling the jubilant cries of the excited classroom.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to hold onto my power before it can pulverize the ballroom. My ears start to buzz, or is that a hiss?

  There’s a sudden scream and the kicking stops abruptly.

  “It bit me!” Sophie shrieks.

  Someone shakes me. “Morgan!” Keva shouts in my ear. “Morgan, are you OK?”

  I slowly uncurl from my fetal position and gasp in pain.

  “I’ve called for help,” Keva says, as I blink back tears, my powers still whirling within me, demanding to be released.

  I lick my cracked lips, tasting blood. “Wh-what happened?”

  “A snake bit Sophie,” Keva says, helping me up. “She’s on the floor and—”

  “Move away from her!” Jennifer snarls, stepping towards us.

  Her face is twisted in an ugly rage. I see her reach under her skirt, then something metallic gleams in her hand. I watch in horror as Jennifer aims her gun at me, Keva still oblivious to what’s going
on.

  “No!” I yell, shoving Keva to the side as the gun fires.

  I feel my head snap back, glass exploding behind me as I fall backward, then agonizing pain blooms behind my eyes, and all goes black.

  ◆◆◆

  The whole earth is shaking. A man in a hazmat suit is drilling right next to me, the jackhammer bouncing up and down in rapid successions, the ambient red light reflecting off the machine’s dull surface.

  I’m back inside the tent.

  The light flickers and the man pauses. What is he trying to dig up? The red light goes back on for another long second before going out completely.

  “What the heck, Arch?” the man calls out, his voice muffled by his mask. “I’m not done here!”

  The man’s heavy footsteps move away from me, towards the exit. Suddenly, I hear him grunt, before two loud thumps tell me he’s fallen to the ground.

  My eyes dart about the darkness frantically, my heart racing. I can feel something close by, reaching for me.

  “Don’t touch me!” I scream, but no sound comes out.

  A shower of sparks blazes in the air in front of me and I hear a sharp yelp. But in the brief light, I saw a familiar profile. Nibs?

  “At last,” the clurichaun breathes, jubilant.

  There’s a click as he flicks a lighter on, its tiny flame barely dispelling the shadows on his scarred face. Nibs’s long fingers reach out then, but stop a handspan away, as if fearful of touching me.

  “Not quite done though,” Nibs says to himself, licking his lips in excitement. “But soon.”

  His face draws nearer until his eyes look like golden crystal balls. He sniffs, pulls away, then lets out a high-pitched giggle.

  “Oh, yes,” he says, “very soon! I can feel the power building.”

  He releases his hold on the lighter and the ball of light winks out of existence, plunging me back into complete and utter darkness.

  Chapter 21

  A startlingly white, bald, round face is staring at me. Boy do angels in heaven have a Humpty Dumpty look about them. Or is this hell?

  “You’re awake.”

  The gravelly voice makes me jump and I smack my head on a solid wall.

  “Ouch!” I mutter, rubbing the back of my skull, only now taking in the infirmary’s antiseptic smells.

  “Praise the Lord for your Fey blood, huh?” the albino guy asks me. “I don’t think anyone else around here would have managed to survive a bullet to the head.”

  I shudder as I remember the agony that followed the gunshot. My fingers shake as I touch my forehead, only to find smooth and perfectly hole-less skin.

  “What happened to Jennifer?” I ask.

  The albino man sits back with a shrug. “What do you think would happen to the de Lyonesse heir?”

  “Jail for a month or two,” I say, “with a dash of torture. It would only be fair to have her punished for what she’s done, for a change.”

  “It would, wouldn’t it?” The albino man scratches his bald pate thoughtfully, his pale blue eyes lost in the distance. “But change has never been the Order’s forte. Humans like routine, they find it comforting. Especially when they’re not at the bottom of the food chain.”

  “How come you’re here?” I ask.

  I look about the room for a sign from the doctors or at least nurse Harry, but the whole infirmary seems deserted.

  “I am your intermediary bodyguard,” the albino man says, “until the next one comes in.”

  “Bodyguard?” I repeat. Then I recall the hissing, Sophie screaming. Keva mentioned a snake…. “Sameerah? Where is she? And what happened to Sophie?”

  “Gone, and gone,” the albino man says. “Sameerah to Avalon with Lugh—she couldn’t readily stay here after what happened. She’ll probably thank you for that, by the way. As for Sophie, she was treated here for a couple of days then discharged. Unfortunately for her, her arm will never be the same.”

  “But she’s alive?” I ask, my hands clutched around my covers.

  The albino man nods and I breathe out in relief.

  “Where is everyone, anyway?” I ask, swinging my legs off the bed. “I’ve never seen this place empty before.”

  “I suppose they went to see the Board members off,” the albino man says, playing with a strange, bulging pouch hanging from his neck, “or perhaps to see the Sangraal one last time. I suppose some may be sad at its departure, but methinks it’ll be safer locked away at Camaaloth than here.”

  “I thought the Board members were going to stay here for a while,” I say, shivering as my feet hit the cold tile floor.

  “They have. You’ve been out for four days already.”

  Another shiver runs down my back, raising goose pimples along my arms.

  “You had your knight quite in a fright,” the man adds.

  Arthur. “Yeah, I bet he wasn’t too happy,” I mumble, taking a quick look outside at the sound of a rising clamor.

  Unfortunately, the infirmary’s windows give out onto the training arena and not the landing docks. I turn away then do a double take as an explosion makes the school rock on its foundations.

  “What was that?” I ask, catching myself on the edge of my bed before I can fall.

  The albino man gets up quickly to scan our surroundings. He ducks as a comet of sizzling blue flames whizzes over our window and hits the school, shaking its walls.

  “Looks like we’ve got ourselves another invasion,” he says.

  I feel my innards drop. “Again?” I whisper, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “Maybe they left something here the last time,” the albino man says with a sardonic smile.

  “Or maybe they’ve decided they need something else,” I say.

  “That would make more sense.”

  I just hope it isn’t me, I silently add.

  Someone screams in the distance, a long, desperate yell. My body reacts immediately and before I know it, I’m pelting out the door, down the hallway, then out into the open air, my feet pounding the packed earth towards a group of fleeing students and the horde of Fey after them.

  “Over here!” I yell at the terrified pages.

  “I think they’ve got the gist of that,” the albino says, easily keeping pace with me.

  “Why are you following me?” I ask him.

  “I told you,” he answers, “I’m your intermediary bodyguard.”

  I glance up quickly, expecting to see clouds of Fomori darkening the dome of the sky-lake, but find it strangely clear. One of the Fey creatures bounds ahead of the children, cutting off their escape route.

  “S-stay back,” one of the pages yells, and I recognize Elias as he shuffles the younger students towards the arena’s outer wall as six half-human, half-tapir-like Feys surround them. One of the creature’s long, blue tongue flicks out, displaying a series of sharp brown teeth, before it lets out a loud bellow.

  “Can you fight?” I ask the albino man.

  “I’ve got my ways,” he replies, fiddling with his strange pouch again.

  I point to the side, away from the group of Fey. “I’ll try to draw them away,” I say, “then you can take the pages to the school.”

  “Sorry, that’s not possible,” he says.

  “I really don’t have time for arguments!” I exclaim.

  One of the tapir Fey notices us and swings around in our direction eagerly.

  “Like I said—” the albino man says in a calm voice that really doesn’t match our situation.

  “—you’re my bodyguard, I know,” I reply through clenched teeth.

  If he’s going to be like that, I’ve got no room for error or we’re all cooked. I swallow the bile rising to my mouth. I just hope my powers aren’t going to go completely bonkers on me or, worse, not work at all.

  “That’s right, you big sack of flees,” I shout to the Fey watching us with a pair of beady eyes. “I’m the one you want! Didn’t I tell you I killed your cousin?”

  I flinch as the lie makes m
y innards shrivel up, but who cares? All I need is to keep these pea-sized creatures from eating up those terrified kids and focus instead on terrified old me.

  I skid to a stop twenty feet away from the pack of Fey, trying to feel for this temperamental power of mine.

  “Blessed be the Lord my rock,” I pray under my breath, “who trains my hands for battle…”

  I raise my hands, willing whatever it is inside me to come forth. But this time, there is no answering warmth in the pit of my stomach.

  The long snout of the creature facing me rises in a strange, snorting laugh, tepid saliva dribbling down its brown and white fur. The Fey flexes its hands and long, black talons spring forth. Then, with a loud grunt, it lunges forward, surprisingly fast, tearing at the ground with its claws.

  The albino man whips his arm, throwing a small pebble at the creature, and I repress a groan, only now remembering that he was one of the asylum’s occupants.

  The pebble hits the ground and explodes as the Fey creature runs over it, and the tapir-like creature squeals in pain, its body torn apart, then falls heavily back down in a shower of dirt.

  “That’s a nifty trick,” I say, coughing on the billowing cloud of dust.

  I blink, trying to see where the pages are, when a large, dark paw swings at me.

  I duck out of the way, but lose my balance and fall. I gasp as the Fey’s long tongue wraps itself around my throat, squeezing till my eyes are about to pop out. I grab the tongue, trying to pull it off me, but my hands keep slipping on the slimy organ. Then my stomach does a backflip and I feel a familiar tingling sensation wipe through me, increasing as it hurtles through my arms.

  Finally!

  A ripple of energy blasts through the creature, making him sizzle and smoke, and the Fey finally lets go of me with a squeal of pain.

  “Look, I really don’t want to hurt you,” I wheeze, as the creature rounds on me again, its beady eyes glaring furiously. “If you could just leave without hurt—”

  The Fey charges, its claws flinging upturned earth in its wake.

  I slam my foot on the ground. Just like during my practice session with Lugh, I feel a bouncy resistance meet me, but this time I don’t hold myself back and I’m propelled into the sky. The Fey rears on its hind legs as I surge overhead, its talons barely missing me. I turn in the air, instinctively trying to keep my opponent in my line of vision, only to find myself suspended thirty feet in the air, unable to get back down.