Chapter 29
Just before we crash into the white rock, a portal gapes open, and we soar through into a clear, starlit sky.
I exhale, my muscles relaxing, and Tarasque arcs lazily over an ivory castle with towering spires on a gently rising hill. Camelot.
Two sets of golden stone walls enclose an inner ward of halls and towers. In the grasses beneath us, crowds are gathering, staring up at us, even though it’s past midnight.
It seems that even here at Avalon Tower, a dragon is still cause for excitement.
Slowly, we arc lower, until Tarasque touches down near an apple grove.
Distantly, the sounds of gunshots ring out from a battle, and Tarasque rears her head again, tensing. I slide off her, my heart still racing. And yet, I feel like we’re old friends now, so I rub her neck a little.
As I step away from her, I scan the courtyard. From where I’m standing, the ivory castle looms over us, and the stone carving above the door marks it as Merlin’s Tower. The walls connect gothic towers, sweeping around the flowering courtyards and a few Tudor-style cottages.
A man stalks toward us from the shadows, a silver-eyed Fey with sun-kissed skin and dark, wavy hair that falls to his chin. Demi-Fey, perhaps. Blood stains his white shirt, and the scent of it hits me from here.
“Léon!” The man calls out Tristan by his surname. “You actually fucking did it.”
“Of course I did.” Tristan sidles up next to me. “Syn, this is Raphael, our Seneschal, although frankly, he’s far too young—”
“Pleased to meet you, Syn,” Raphael says, cutting him off.
“And you.”
I smile at Raphael. I trust demi-Fey more than anyone, I think, considering everyone else is always trying to murder us for being tainted by one side or the other.
“Is there a reason you’re covered in blood, Sir Raphael?” Tristan asks.
“The paramilitaries are still here. The Iron Legion. But we’ve got it under control now.”
“How did the Iron Legion get into Camelot?” I ask. “I thought this whole place was protected by magic.”
Raphael’s silver eyes slide to me. “Some of them are former members of Avalon Tower. Pendragons. They know how to get into Camelot, but they haven’t breached our fortress walls yet, so there’s no need to panic. Nice halo, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
Tristan crosses his arms. “Raph—are we at war with the British government?”
Raphael shakes his head. “They have the backing of some members of government. But it’s not anything officially sanctioned, so let’s not lose our heads and set everyone on fire.”
“It would end the battle decisively if we used the dragon,” says Tristan.
Raphael takes a step closer. “I’m ordering you not to. I don’t want to have to lock you up for murder. Again. Or for starting an actual civil war, which would be a new one for you, but I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Tristan nods at Raphael’s shirt. “You’re literally covered in human blood.”
“It was self-defense. This isn’t technically a civil war, and they’re just a splinter group of paramilitary extremists. In the current political reality, we have to treat them more like civilians.”
Tristan’s eyes gleam. “In the current political reality, what’s the bloody point of bringing the dragon?
The humans have guns. They have their own weapons.
Our moral imperative is to protect the weak and to fight for the Round Table.
It’s not to get ensnared in mortal political squabbles or care about fucking paperwork and petty legal designations. You’ve become very human.”
Raphael raises his eyebrows at me. “Well, I’m done with that conversation.
Sir Tristan, you’re going to debrief with me in an hour.
I need to hear every detail about the Veiled Court.
But stay with the dragon right now, will you?
Make sure she doesn’t eat or burn anyone while I take Syn to our soothsayer. ”
He turns and strides away at such a fast clip, I have to jog to keep up with him. I glance at the tattoos that coil over his forearms—thorny vines.
“Why did you want us to bring Tarasque?” I ask.
He shoots me a look that could freeze dragon fire. “You’re not getting any more information until Tana clears you.”
I don’t feel like we hit it off very well, but I also gather that Tristan wasn’t the right person to introduce me to Raphael.
I follow Raphael to an oak door in one of the inner walls, its surface carved with chalices and serpents. He pulls open the door, and I’m greeted by the scent of a cedarwood fire mixed with the smell of yarrow tea.
Raphael stands by the doorway, arms folded, and I take a step farther into the room.
A beautiful woman sits at a cluttered table, firelight casting a warm, shifting glow over her clear brown skin. Long braids trail down over a red dress, and a tattoo of vines curls around her neck.
Hundreds of candles flicker around the room.
It would be a real fire hazard, except I assume she can predict any disastrous conflagrations.
In here, the shelves are crammed with strange objects—crystal balls, skulls, mortars and pestles.
Moonlight streams in from a stained-glass window behind her, depicting a sword and a crown.
She hasn’t even looked up at me yet. Instead, she’s staring into a flickering candle flame, apparently oblivious to the fact that I’ve entered the room.
“You must be Tana,” I say.
She looks startled for a moment, then smiles at me. “Ah, right. Today, yes? Come in, Syn. Please, have a seat.”
I pull out a rough-hewn oak chair that creaks when I settle into it. “I’ve heard so much about you. In fact, no one will tell me a bloody thing until I meet you. From what I can gather, you’re the most important person here.”
“Well, that isn’t a widely held belief,” she says airily.
“Yesterday I spoke to King Arthur, and he’s certain he’s the most important person here.
But that’s also because he doesn’t know he’s dead.
And Merlin mistakenly believes he is dead, though he’s not.
He’s just in an oak. Very mixed-up business.
” She pushes a plate of small golden pastries toward me. “Have some honey cake.”
I’m starving, and I take one of the little cakes, biting into it. It has a delicious, faintly spiced center with hints of nutmeg and cloves.
Tana starts to pour some tea. The table in front of her is littered with crystals, mismatched teacups, and a chipped teapot with a rendering of a dragon on it.
She hands me a dandelion teacup full of tea that smells of yarrow. “There you are. We will do tea and tarot. I’ve already done some mirror scrying.”
“And what did you see in it?”
“Absolute disaster,” she says wistfully. “Brocéliande lies in ruins.”
My pulse quickens. “It what?”
She cocks her head. “Something to do with a ruined world. I’m not sure if it’s your fault or not, but it might be.”
I stare at her. “I’m going to need more information.”
“So am I,” Raphael says quietly from behind me.
Then, Alis’s words return to me.
You could destroy the world. Cursed is the hour you were born.
Because of you, the land will lie in ruin, the powerful will sicken, and sorrow will reign in our kingdom.
I clear my throat, suddenly at war with myself.
Should I tell them what Alis said? I don’t particularly want to, because it doesn’t seem like the sort of information that would get someone clearance.
It quite clearly makes me seem like a liability.
By the way, another psychic said I’m going to destroy the world. Can I get that secret intel now?
On the other hand…what if I am, in fact, fated to accidentally cause a disaster? It seems like something people should know.
I narrow my eyes at Tana. For all I know, she can hear everything I’m thinking.
“Are you a telepath?” It comes out too loud, and it sounds like an accusation.
“No, darling, you can relax. I can see the future and the past, but I don’t know what you’re thinking.” She frowns at my teacup. “I can, however, see that you are gripping the porcelain so tightly that it seems you might break it.”
“And why would you be scared of someone overhearing your thoughts?” Raphael asks from behind me.
Alis’s cursed words rattle inside my skull, refusing to be quiet. You could destroy the world…
I try to relax my muscles so I can strike a casual tone. “I take it you’ve both been briefed on the Lady Alis situation?”
“Of course,” Tana says with a smile. “You killed her and took her spot in the Veiled Court. And now, Raphael wants to know if we can trust you.”
“I killed her in self-defense,” I say, echoing Raphael.
“Anyway, as she attacked me, she said I’d destroy the world.
Those were her words. She said the powerful would sicken, crops would fail.
All because of me. Cursed be the day I was born, that sort of thing.
I think it’s because she overheard me thinking about killing Auberon.
” I clear my throat. “I just thought I should mention it.”
Tana stares into the flickering flame of a candle on the table, and its light dances in her dark eyes.
“World can mean many different things, you know. For some people, their lover is the whole world.” She meets my eyes again.
“For someone else, the world could be a book they’ve been working on for decades. The meaning isn’t set in stone.”
I nod. “The baroness was very aggressive about the point that one must never hurt a king. Maybe to her, the monarchy is ‘the world.’”
“Exactly.” Tana’s eyebrows rise. “But maybe not.”
“What do you think of Auberon?” Raphael asks.
I turn to look at him, standing with his arms folded, leaning against the wall.
I take a deep breath. “I won’t trust that fucker is dead until I see his head on a pike, and if I see him again, I will kill him.
I spent ten years with him. He’s nearly indestructible.
But everyone thinks he’s a usurper now. If he’s still alive, he’d be just another ruthless contender for the throne, one among many. ”
He nods curtly.
I turn back to Tana, who leans forward and hands me a deck of tarot cards. “Shuffle and think of the Veiled Court.”
I take the cards from her and close my eyes.
I shuffle the cards together, and my thoughts drift back to the Veiled Court, with the burning tower that flickers against a starry sky.
I think of Goch, looming over me in the Rhiannon Garden.
And then, against my will, I think of Rion’s silver eyes and the way they darkened to a midnight blue when I was close to him.
My eyes snap open, and I hand her the cards. “Finished.”
She starts to lay them out. I consider taking another spiced honey cake, but I seem to have lost my appetite. I’m actually nervous about what Tana will discover in the cards.
I take a long sip of tea, draining the brew.
Tana lays out the strength card—a woman with a lion. Because it’s reversed, I wonder if it’s my lost magic.
“Is that me?” I ask.
She nods, laying out the emperor card, reversed. Then the devil, followed by a bunch of bloody swords, some of them jutting out of dead men’s backs.
“Danger,” she mutters, rather unnecessarily.
She looks up at me from the cards and holds out her hand. “I’ll need your teacup.”
I hand her the empty cup, and she stares into it.
“Interesting...” She looks up from the tea leaves. “Most people committing evil think they’re doing something good, you know. Something to help their kingdom, their families, the world.”
I’m not sure I like where this is going. “What does that mean in this context?”
Instead of responding, she returns to the tarot cards, flipping them over onto the table. She lays down pictures of people leaping from a burning tower, a skeleton decapitating people with a scythe, a heart pierced by blades, a reversed magician wearing a dark cloak…
It’s not exactly getting more cheerful. Outside, thunder booms.
She mutters again, “Death chases you.”
Nervousness skitters down my spine. “Anything good at all?”
More cards—a man hanging upside down by his foot, a priestess on a throne, and the Wheel of Fortune.
At last, she takes a deep breath and looks up at me with that startled expression that suggests she forgot I was here. “Ah, yes. Syn.”
My chest is tight. “So. Is there any good news?” I ask again.
We lock eyes. “Ah, yes. It is your fault. You will destroy the world.”