Page 92 of Silver in the Bone

Flea’s brow creased in understanding. “I forget you don’t know nothing.”

“Explain it to me like I’m a baby,” I told her, amused.

“Well ... I was sleeping with the others in the tower and ’twas like I felt a warm glow come into my mind. It whispered a song only I could hear, and it tells me to sing, so I did. The warmth filled me like a hot bath, making me feel good and nice, and it made my feet bring me to the hall, to the image of the Goddess there, and Cait and the others heard the song and they came too. One priestess dies, one gets called, see?”

I did see. Avalon was once a place where there was no sickness and suffering. But even though magic could extend a life by hundreds of years, it couldn’t vanquish death. Eventually, everyone met their end.

Flea scratched at her nose in thought. “Except not me. I got called too soon, and everything’s been wrong since. Olwen thinks I’m just too young, that it’ll happen when I’m thirteen like the others. All I know is, the great stonking well of magic won’t open to me, and we don’t got years to wait.”

“So with the old High Priestess gone,” I said, “who becomes the new one?”

“Cait,” Flea said. “The others willed it so, ’cause she’s Cait.”

Flea turned to look back at where Cabell and Bedivere were working together, clacking practice blades over and over in different positions. Cabell was almost smiling. Beyond them, Caitriona and Betrys were dueling, demonstrating something to Arianwen.

Betrys stepped back, but Caitriona, glowing with sweat and vigor, held out a hand and said, “I’ll go again.”

“No,” Betrys was saying, “there’s no need—”

“I’ll do it again,” Caitriona said, assuming her stance. Her arms strained to lift the sword. “And I shall do it better.”

“All you’ll do is knock yourself on your arse,” Betrys said in her usual matter-of-fact way. “Rest, Cait.”

The conversation interrupted whatever Bedivere had been saying to his students. The old knight looked over and assessed the situation with impressive speed.

“Caitriona,” he called, catching her attention. “Will you assist me? I’ve need of your skill.”

She hesitated, breathing hard. He held out his hand and the priestess finally nodded, drawing in a deep breath.

She returned her long sword to the rack and went to join him. Cabell and the others followed along intently, leaving Bedivere to step back with a look of obvious pride.

“In a battle, whether it be against one foe or a hundred, it is imperative you remember this,” Caitriona was telling them behind us, her voice ringing out clear as a bell. “If you drop your weapon, you will die. Fight to keep it in your hand, even if it means battling your own fear first. Now, ready your blade.”

Cabell, a few feet away from her, nodded and glanced down at the practice weapon in his hand.

“I’ve a question for ye.”

Flea paused, and the pensive expression on her face had me dying to know what she was thinking. I wasn’t disappointed.

“Do ye think Arthur’ll still look like he does now when he comes back to life? All waxy and withered like a sun-dried grape? ’Cause he sort of smells, if I’m being honest.”

“I hope not,” I said with a laugh. “An undead king is already going to be a hard sell to the modern world without him looking putrid. Have you actually seen him?”

She shrugged. “Before the Children rose. ’Twas a dare. Mam was none too ’appy ’bout it. A long walk, that was.”

Before I could respond, a sly grin spread over her face.

Flea held up a penny—a modern penny that had apparently hitched a ride to this Otherland in my jacket pocket. My jaw dropped, but I was laughing, and so was she.

“I have nothing left to teach you,” I told her.

“Do I want to know what you’re teaching her?” came Neve’s voice.

We both turned to find the sorceress watching us, brows raised and arms crossed. She was in a simple dress with an apron that was splattered with what might have been food or dirt. It was almost impossible to tell for sure in the gloomy light.

“Oh, you know,” I said. “Just my musings on human nature and the great big world.”

“What I’m hearing is that you enjoy giving children nightmares,” Neve said, her hands on her hips.

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