I hug my arms to my chest, willing myself to keep moving, to cross the room’s threshold. Gone are the pennants of the old knight families that used to hang proudly on the walls. Gone, too, are the chairs where the KORT members used to sit. And, floating above the spot where the round table once stood, is the portal, the air inside it shimmering as of extreme heat, the Siege Perilous standing innocuously beside it.
“I’ve got a little surprise for you,” Mordred says, his smile chilling me to the bone.
He motions me around the portal. My stomach feels tight. Slowly, I edge around the room, until I can see what he’s pointing at, and swallow a curse back down.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I manage to say, eyes fixed on the diminutive woman kneeling on the hard floor.
For some reason, Mordred’s decided to bring Irene out from whatever cell she’s been kept in. Despite her bound hands, the woman I once considered my mother turns to face me. Her hands have been tied behind her back, and her greasy hair, streaked with white, hangs over half of her face in clumpy strands. But it can’t hide the black-rimmed eyes staring at me with unabashed hatred.
At least that part of her hasn’t changed.
“I thought you might enjoy this present, at least,” Mordred says with a wolfish smile.
“Luther was right,” Irene says, her voice hoarse. “We should have drowned you as a baby.”
“Why didn’t you?” Jennifer asks. “I mean, you did marry the one who killed your fiancé, surely one more murder wouldn’t have been such a big deal.” She catches the confusion that flashes in my eyes, reflected on Irene’s grimy face. “Oh, don’t act like you’re surprised. Did you sincerely believe no one would ever find out?” Jennifer’s cheeks dimple in another of her signature cruel smiles. “I must say, though, that the face Artie made when I showed him the evidence was priceless.”
Irene blanches. “You ungrateful swine! What kind of filthy lies have you been feeding my s—”
Her eyes bulge out, a choked gurgle escaping her cracked lips. My gaze slides over to Jennifer. The girl’s left hand is clenched, a vein throbbing at her temple as she slowly strangles Irene from across the room. I grit my teeth together until my jaw feels like it’s going to shatter. No matter what Irene’s done, she doesn’t deserve this.
Yet I do nothing to save her. Don’t even voice an objection as Irene’s face turns purple, blood vessels in her eyes bursting.
“Stop.”
Mordred’s voice is barely a whisper, but it acts like a gunshot on Jennifer, and she releases her hold on Irene. The woman slumps to the floor, wheezing.
I turn questioningly to Mordred, and find that he’s watching me. Can he tell I didn’t want Irene to die, that my coming over is a sham, a trick?
“Why stop me?” Jennifer asks, seething.
Mordred shrugs. “She’s still a valuable prisoner. But if you’re so keen to have a little fun, I have other choice prisoners for you. I hear one of them was even a KORT knight, and is parentless. So completely useless to me.”
I feel myself turn white, aware of my brother’s allusion. Mordred knows about her and Lance, then. And as part of me rejoices in the news that Lance is still alive, another fears how Jennifer’s going to react.
“Would you, darling?” she asks prettily, sliding her arm in Mordred’s in a simpering way that makes me want to punch her so very bad. After everything Lance has done for her, sacrificed for her, this is her response?
But she doesn’t ask for Lance to play with. Instead, she keeps her mouth uncharacteristically shut, her eyes flickering to Mordred, gauging. My weariness increases a notch. For if the supposed love of Mordred’s life is jittery around him, then, brother or not, I need to be extra careful.
Chapter 33
“What are you doing here?”
It’s the tenth time Bri’s asked me that question since I’ve run into her, and still I don’t know what to say.
When Mordred sent me away, tired of my constant bickering with Jennifer, I found my feet automatically heading for the old storage room down by the kitchens, the very place where Arthur secretly taught me to control my powers. I needed some peace and quiet, so I could figure out a way to corner Mordred away from his sadistic girlfriend and work on having him switch sides.
Instead, I’ve got to contend with a confused and suspicious friend. But if I tell her the truth, my whole plan might unravel, and would put her at risk too. Wouldn’t it be easier to let her assume the worst of me, and continue this whole thing on my own, like I’ve always done?
“I thought you were going to stay away until I finished working on those wards,” Bri continues intently. She’s grown as thin as a piece of stick in the last few days. But something sharp has entered her eyes. Self-confidence.
I blow out a sigh. Truth then. “We’ve found Carman’s Achilles’ heel, and I’m here to help pry it open,” I say.”
“You’ve found her weakness?” she says slowly. “The wards?”
Owen tilts his head at me. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, gathering books and papers. His presence alone explains how Bri’s managed to evade the enemy thus far, even when working in the middle of them.
I shake my head. “No,” I say at last.
Bri’s lower lip starts to shake, her act of bravado slipping. “So everything I’ve done is useless?”
“No,” Owen and I say together.
“Not at all,” I say. “OK. Let me go about it another way. How’s your work coming along?”
Bri looks down at her feet, her short dark hair forming little question marks around her head. “Slow,” she says at last. “It’s turning out to be harder than I thought.”
“The alteration will happen if you will it so,” Owen says, pushing to his feet, books and papers under an arm.
“You keep saying that, but nothing’s happening!” Bri says, her pale brow creasing more severely. “And I keep losing precious time trying to avoid that sneaky pig Brockton.”
I grab both her hands. “And that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” I say. “What if you don’t succeed?”
“She will,” Owen states calmly.
“Or not in time?” I continue. “Or you do, and Carman still manages to succeed in freeing Balor? We needed a backup plan, one to take care of Carman while you do your work, and Caamaloth gets ready for battle, so…” I shrug.
“So you decided to, like, sacrifice yourself?” Bri says.
I shake my head. “Not sacrifice, spy,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “As I said, we’ve found the chink in Carman’s armor, but we can’t take advantage of it from afar.”
I open my mouth to finally explain the whole plan, when the door to the storage room slams open, making us both jump.
“Well, well, well,” says Agravain, striding inside. “What have we here?”
My stomach does a backflip. The last time I saw him, he was leading the charge against the church, forcing Father Tristan, Lance, Jack, and Lady Ysolt to sacrifice themselves so we could flee. He must’ve seen me leave the KORT room with Mordred and Jennifer, and decided to follow me down here. And like the big dolt that I am, I didn’t notice a thing.
Agravain sniffs the air. “Smells like a couple of conspirators,” he says, smirking as I rush to place myself in front of Bri.
“Conspiring to get your ass kicked,” I retort with a sneer of my own, motioning for Bri to leave through the back door with her brother. “Again.”
Agravain’s smile turns into a frown. “Watch it,” he growls. “Nobody’s gonna save your skin this time around.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Owen gently pulling Bri away. “I don’t need anyone to save my skin wherever you’re concerned,” I say, to keep Agravain focused on me. “I can take you whenever I want.”
“Doubt that,” the boy says, turning to track Bri’s and Owen’s movements.
And what I see in his eyes chills me to the bone. This isn’t a boy anymore, but a killer.
<
br /> Without waiting another second, I charge, power rippling over my blackened fists. But before I can make contact, I slam into an invisible barrier. My power backfires, sizzling through me, and I’m sent flying across the room. Wood explodes into splinters as I crash into the old wardrobe.
Agravain lets out a low laugh. “What is it with you people trying to be all noble all of a sudden?” he asks. “Do you really think I don’t know about your little friend? It’s only a matter of time till I get my hands on her, too.”
I hear him lunge, and roll to the side just as a flaming fist swings down. Agravain’s knuckles hit the floor, blasting through the flagstone in a shower of sparks, and leaving behind a small, burned out crater where my head was.
I swallow hard, neurons firing in all directions. I’m not used to fighting in close quarters. My power is too erratic, wild. If I keep this up, I might bring the whole school down. If Agravain doesn’t take me out first.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
I turn around and run.
“Wait here, you damned coward!” Agravain shouts, tearing after me.
Heat burns down my back as I burst into the staircase, barely avoiding a second attack. I stumble forward, veering into the staircase so fast my head hits the sharp edge of the railing. Stars dance before me, but I make myself keep moving, taking the steps three at a time.
“When I say stop, you stop!” Agravain bellows, entering the staircase behind me.
The flames dancing above his outstretched hand sear my vision as I turn to face him again.
“When I say roll over, you roll over,” he continues, eyes sparkling brightly in the firelight, rabid with bloodlust. “And when I say play dead, you keel over and die.”
He punches his fists out and the fire blazes out toward me. I fling my arms up, gathering wind around me. The flames hit my shield, spreading wide instead, before I shift the tide and send them leaping back the way they came.
Agravain drops to the floor, flattening himself to the stairs before he can get roasted. I don’t wait for him to recover, and dash the rest of the way up.
“You’re gonna pay for that, bitch!” Agravain shouts.
“I’ll aim better next time,” I tell him as I burst onto the main floor.
A demon grunts in surprise as I barrel into her. I trip over a fallen torch. Scramble to keep my feet under me. The demon shrieks behind me. Bones crunch.
I glance over my shoulder as I pelt down the long hallway. Agravain’s there, a long, angry red patch where his hair’s been burned. The demon I ran into is lying in a heap at his feet, motionless.
“You should stop following me,” I shout at him. “You’re only going to make a bigger prat of yourself if you let me beat you again in front of thousands of witnesses.”
Agravain storms after me, and I speed up. The exit is just a dozen feet away. Five… I’m already reaching out to push the door open. Then something cold punches into my shoulder with the force of a harpoon, and I spin sideways to crash into the wall.
“Fiiiight!” someone bellows out excitedly at the opposite end of the hallway.
I grunt, hand going automatically to the ice pick sticking out from beneath my clavicle. “OK, now you’re really pissing me off,” I say.
I let my temperature flare up, melting the icicle in seconds, then bring my arms together, before pushing my hands out. For a long second, nothing happens, then I can feel them. Small tremors in the floor that are growing stronger. Someone screams in the distance. Then a dozen vines puncture the wall around Agravain like deadly tentacles to wrap themselves around his limbs, long thorns lacerating his flesh.
“I did warn you to leave me alone,” I say, pushing away from the wall, my shoulder already healed. “But you wouldn’t listen to me, would you?”
“No reason to,” Agravain replies with a smirk. I frown. Something’s off. He shouldn’t be that cocky, considering I’ve got him tied up.
Footsteps echo all around us as more demons hurry to watch the spectacle. I flex my fingers and the vines tighten around Agravain, constricting his airway. All it would take for me to end his miserable life is to have that large thorn by his neck pierce his jugular. Cold sweat breaks out over my back at what I’m contemplating to do.
“What’s it to be, Agravain?” I ask, my voice tight. “Truce, or death?”
“You don’t even have the balls to end me,” he replies.
I clench my teeth together, getting angry with myself. He’s right. Despite knowing that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Just as I didn’t hesitate when I faced those demons and Dark Sidhe. My chest tightens at my hypocrisy. What makes Agravain so different that he deserves to live, when the others couldn’t? Wasn’t it I who condemned the Order for treating the Fey like soulless tools and weapons? And here I am doing exactly the same.
Agravain smirks as I drop my arm back down. We lock eyes, and his grin falters.
“Remember you chose this,” I say.
I jab my index finger inward. The long thorn follows the movement, piercing Agravain’s neck. It’s just a tip, but it’s enough for it to leach him of blood, to show him his life is now in my hands. Perhaps now—
There’s a bright flash as Agravain swings his leg up, then the vines are falling off him in pieces, spraying black sap across the floor. Demons grunt and whistle in appreciation as he brings his leg back down with a sharp metallic click. I stare at the silvery limb in confusion, pants ripped where the blade cut through.
“You like it?” Agravain asks, pulling the long thorn from his neck and tossing it aside. I frown as the leg shimmers, returning to its normal, human shape. “I actually don’t mind so much what you did to me now,” he says, admiring his leg. “I find it to be an improvement, actually.”
“Too bad you couldn’t alter your face,” I say, taking an unsteady step back. I knew he wasn’t a boy anymore, but this…this makes him so much more dangerous!
With a furious growl, Agravain lunges at me, before stopping dead in his tracks again.
Silence builds around us, spreading across the wide hallway. And in it, I can finally hear the first notes of thunder rolling in. And quickly drawing closer.
Shit.
A gust of wind slams the door open, revealing a dark figure outside.
This was definitely not how I’d planned our reunion, but as the cousins like to say, I need to roll with the punches. Eyes never leaving the pale-faced woman, I bow. “Greetings, Carman. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter 34
Carman’s laughter raises goosebumps down my arms. “Greetings?” she repeats. “You mean goodbyes are due, sweets?”
I clasp my hands behind my back, trying to look non-threatening as I straighten up again to stand in front of her, almost her equal.
“No, no, you heard me right the first time,” I say, working hard to keep my smile in place. “I came here offering peace.”
“There is no peace to be had between gods and mortals, only serfdom from the latter.”
I cock my head. “I didn’t mean for all the human race,” I say. “Just myself. Considering we’re in the same basket, you and I.”
Carman lowers her eyelids. I’m really bad at innuendos, but I think she’s caught my drift, so I press my advantage.
I lean forward until the slightly putrid stench of her breath tickles my nostrils. “I know what it is that you want,” I whisper, “and I can give it to you.”
Whatever she needs to keep me at her side.
In a blur of movement, Carman catches my jaw in her hand, and I have to bite hard on the inside of my cheek not to cry out at the pain that tabs all the way down to my chin.
“Will you kill your mother for me, then?” she asks, eyes boring into me.
“No,” I say, deliberately slow, as if talking to a dull-witted child. “I would kill her for me.”
Carman takes my declaration in silence, her flinty eyes never leaving mine, and I know she’s waiting for t
he tell-tale gut-wrenching agony that accompanies each lie I make. But the pain doesn’t come.
Danu’s already dying, she’s said so herself, and mostly because of this war for which I’m partially responsible. In a way, I’ve already killed her.
I cough back a laugh. “Why do you even think I’d dare lie to your face?” I ask. I shake my head, using the movement to free myself from her painful grasp. “I’m not as stupid as I look.”
“I wouldn’t be quite so sure,” Carman says.
She snaps her fingers together and this time I let out a surprised grunt as the dark vines I’d called upon spring to encircle my own wrists, lifting me up until my feet can no longer touch the ground. But the vines do so gently, their long thorns curving away so as not to scratch my limbs. Slowly, Carman circles me,
“Is this why you decided to trade your allegiance?” she asks, trailing her fingers down my bare back, leaving a burning trail where hours ago Sister Marie-Clémence’s henchman whipped me. “It seems so light compared to what I had to put you through. Yet here you are, begging me to take you back. How very intriguing.”
I shiver against my restraints. “What you did was nothing compared with a lifetime of poisoned lies,” I say, meaning every word. A flesh wound can heal, whereas the deep cuts Irene’s willful neglect of me over the years have left numerous scars that will never go away, even if I like to pretend they never were.
“So here you are,” Carman says, caressing now the vines holding me up. “And Dother’s briar has decided to adopt you, it seems. As if to encourage me to trust you.”
“I am your best solution,” I say.
“You would like to think so, wouldn’t you?” Carman says.
“What Mordred can do for you, I can do better,” I say. “Weren’t you the one who once said so?”
“Only with regards to the Sangraal, but that’s already taken care of. I don’t see any further use for you. But let’s ask your brother, shall we?”
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