Chapter 52
CHAPTER 52
I motion for Talan to hold his attack.
“Nia.” Raphael takes a step closer, his sword drawn. He looks confused, his dark eyebrows drawn together. A faint look of hurt shines in his silver eyes.
I swallow. “Raphael.”
Talan unsheathes his own sword, the scrape of metal piercing the tense silence.
I hold up my hand again. “Don’t, Talan.”
“It’s true,” Raphael says in a voice rough as broken glass. “You’re working for this living nightmare.”
“Not working for me.” Talan’s smooth, silky voice echoes off the high-vaulted ceiling. “I’m a terrible boss, ask anyone. She’s my wife. But I do recognize you. The Pendragon agent who broke out of our dungeons. With Nia’s help, of course. So lucky , having her watching over you.”
“This bejeweled psychopath is your rebound, Nia? Really?” Venom drips from Raphael’s voice. “How unfortunate for you.”
“You told me about him, didn’t you, Nia?” Talan says quietly, his eyes aglow with mockery. “The ex-lover who has a bad habit of running away from things. The one who chose his work over you. I believe I said he sounded fucking boring . And I must admit he has pretty eyes, but he is very tightly wound. Must be exhausting.”
Raphael’s jaw tightens. “I’m not a Pendragon agent. I’m the boy your army left for dead, the one whose mother your army killed in her kitchen while she begged for our lives. That’s who I am.”
“I know.” My voice wavers. “But that wasn’t Talan’s order. He tried to save the demi-Fey, you know that. Ask Ysolde about the Blue Dragon Project later, if we make it out of here. We don’t have time for this argument right now.”
He doesn’t lower his sword.
I take a step closer to him. “Listen, the Pendragons have created a plague to annihilate all Fey and demi-Fey. I have it here in my bag, and I want to destroy it. Talan is here to help us save the Fey. That includes you, Raphael.”
“I know about the plague,” Raphael says darkly. “That’s why I’m here. To finish the job. And I had to kill four Iron Legion bastards just to get into Merlin’s Tower, but of course, it’s been a bloodbath here for days.”
Neither man lowers his sword. I suppress an urge to scream. I’m going to lose my mind if the Fey die of a plague because these two are locking antlers.
“We’re all here for the same reason,” I say, “to destroy the plague. Nothing else. So, we’re all on the same side. Okay?”
Raphael’s eyes cut to Talan. “Same side as the man who ordered me tortured in prison? And you—the heir of Morgan—show up just like the prophecy said, ready to burn Avalon Tower to the ground. With him, the man who’s been trying to kill us all along. Seems like the prophecy was right.”
“I wish I’d ordered your torture,” says Talan, sounding utterly bored with this now, “just for the crime of being tedious, but that was my father. Stopped clock and all that.”
At this moment, part of me almost wants to smash the vials and end it all, but I restrain myself.
“Oh, my gods,” I say. “First of all, Raphael, I would never betray Avalon Tower. I’m not here to destroy it. I mean the Pendragons , yes, I’d betray them ten times before breakfast. They can die in a fire for all I care, but you, Tana, Serana, Darius? I’d cut my own heart out before I turned on my friends. So, either kill me now or get on our side.”
Footfalls sound in the hall, and I grip the hilt of my dagger again, but Tana rushes in, out of breath.
“See? I was right,” she says. “I told you she’d be here.”
Serana, Darius, and Nivene spill into the hall after her. Blood spatters their clothes. Nivene’s hair is a mess, and blood streaks her cheek from an ugly gash. All of them except Tana grip weapons smeared with crimson.
Rough day at Avalon Tower.
Talan’s body radiates tension. From the corner of my eye, I see his hand tighten on the hilt of his sword.
I hold up my hands. “We’re all on the same side. Okay? We’re all here to stop the plague.”
Talan narrows his eyes. “Hello, Nivene. Hard day at the onion farm, was it? I can see you’ve been grieving your father’s death.”
“Prince Talan, a delight as always,” she says coldly. “Pardon me if I don’t curtsy.”
“Why are you all pointing your weapons at each other?” Tana says, frowning in irritation. “We have no time for this. We’re here to destroy the plague.”
“With the Dream Stalker,” Raphael says acidly. “Who invaded Avalon Tower on a fire-breathing dragon? That’s who you want me to work with?”
“I mean, the dragon invasion was my idea,” I say, “and Talan’s really not that bad.”
“I’m humbled,” Talan says dryly. “Truly.”
“What about the prophecy?” Raphael says. “The descendants of Morgan will destroy Avalon Tower?—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tana says, “it’s just a prophecy. A prophecy can be interpreted in many forms. It can mislead. Who even knows what destroying Avalon Tower means? Does it mean the castle? The concept?”
“Its leadership?” Darius suggests.
“It could mean destroying the Pendragons,” I say, thinking of my deal with Mordred.
“Well, there you go,” Tana says. “Are we going to argue about prophecy semantics or do something about this plague?”
“Listen.” I raise my hands, placating. “It’s not just the plague. In about three days, Auberon is going to swoop into England with a legion of dragons and burn Bristol to the ground, so let’s stay focused on our real enemies, shall we?”
For a long time, no one says anything. Finally, Raphael sheathes his sword.
Talan follows suit.
Serana sighs and puts down her axe. “We’ve been fighting the Iron Legion for days. We couldn’t get anywhere near Merlin’s Tower until today.”
“They had the whole tower barricaded,” adds Darius, “but your dragon caused enough chaos to break it up.”
Serana’s freckled cheeks go pink. “We probably have a few minutes until some of their lot charge up here. So, like, let’s get the fuck on with things, yeah?”
“How were you planning to destroy the plague?” Raphael asks.
“We were arguing about that,” Darius says. “I figured we could bury the containers.”
“I thought we could spill it into the lake,” Serana adds.
I blink. “You wanted to spill a deadly plague into Camelot’s drinking water?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not a bloody scientist , Nia.”
“According to the notes I found,” I say, “The plague is sensitive to high temperatures. I’m not sure how high those temperatures have to be, but there’s almost nothing hotter than dragon fire.”
Nivene brightens. “Good plan. So, where’s the dragon? Last I saw, she was kind of circling overhead, breathing fire. I’d hoped she might burn Tarquin, but I’m probably not that lucky.”
“She won’t be able to land,” says Darius, “unless we can capture the anti-dragon gun.”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“We can take control of the gun on top of Shalott Tower,” Raphael says. “If we disable the gun, could she land on the turret there?”
Talan frowns. “Yes, if no one is shooting at her, the turret is wide enough for Tarasque to land. I can summon her there.”
I bend to pick up the bag of vials, taking care not to accidentally shatter them. Everyone watches me like I might, too.
“Be careful with those things, will you?” Nivene says. “If one vial breaks, everyone here is dead.”
I swallow. “Yeah, I know, Nivene.”
“I’ll lead us to Shalott Tower,” Serana says. “I know a route where we won’t run into the Iron Legion.”
I walk quickly after them, cradling the vials.
Raphael turns to me. “It’s good to see you alive and well,” he says softly.
I nod and smile back at him. “You, too.”
Behind me, Talan turns briefly, shooting Raphael a look that could cleave a man in two.
“Allies,” I hiss.