Page 116 of Silver in the Bone

And if he didn’t, it would mean he belonged somewhere else, in a different world, and a part of him might always yearn to go there, even if he never knew why.

The minutes gathered into hours. Each turn of the page brought me deeper and deeper into the manuscript I was poring over; I was so captured by my reading, it took someone clearing their throat to pull me away. When I looked up, it was to find Emrys standing in the library’s doorway, his face like thunder. Cabell hovered behind him, visibly confused.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Neve emerged from her own reading trance, blinking. “Is it the soil?”

“Oh, the soil beneath the stones was fine and the seeds are well on their way to sprouting, thanks to a little infusion of magic from Deri,” Emrys said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “But I think I found something. Something else.”

His eyes were overly bright, almost feverish, contrasting harshly with the sunken shadows beneath them.

“Something else implies that I’m already behind,” Cabell said. “Anyone want to fill me in? I tried to get here earlier, but Sir Bedivere needed help.”

“Speaking of Sir Bedivere ... ,” I said. Cabell’s expression fell into pure horror as I quickly, and quietly, told him what Emrys and I had found last night.

“So what’s Bedivere’s connection to all this?” Neve asked.

But Cabell, of course, had understood. He remembered Nash’s stories about Arthur’s journeys to Annwn as well as I did. “Sir Bedivere was said to be one of the knights who accompanied King Arthur to Annwn. But I thought the cauldron they recovered had something to do with food?”

“See!” Neve said.

“Could you try fishing for some information about it?” I asked. “Just ... feel him out.”

“Feel out an immortal knight of the Round Table,” Cabell said, rubbing his hands over his face. “Sure. Why not.”

Emrys had been all but vibrating with impatience as I caught Cabell up, and it was clear he’d reached the end of his fuse. “Can we please get going? It’s really important you see this.”

“Have you slept at all since we got here?” Neve asked, cocking her head to the side as she studied him. “Maybe you should take a nap first. I have a potion that could knock you out in a few seconds. It tastes like bat hair, but, you know, night spells from night creatures and all that.”

Emrys sent a pleading look my way, and a part of me, one I didn’t want to acknowledge, went soft. I’d been steadfastly avoiding the memory of our interlude in the wardrobe, but now it came rushing back.

“All right.” I sighed, closing the book. “Whatever it is can’t be worse than last night.”

It was clear from the emptiness of the tower that the hour was even later than I’d thought. The doors to the sleeping hall were partly shut, but I could see well enough inside to spot Olwen, Flea, and Arianwen huddled up nearby.

Emrys led us down to the tower’s entrance, waiting for Betrys and the others on watch to turn their backs before we darted across the courtyard. I surveyed their efforts from the day; half of the stones were gone, revealing a dark belly of soil that had been carefully sowed in neat little rows.

Cabell glanced at the guards overhead one last time. “Coast’s clear.”

Emrys motioned for us to follow him to the armory.

The small building was surprisingly well lit and, if I had to guess, had likely once been a gatehouse. Now the air was perfumed by the animal fat and linseed oil used to polish tools and blades.

Beside me, Cabell wrinkled his nose. “What now, Dye?”

A battered full suit of armor, blood-red with rust, kept silent watch over the room. Emrys moved Neve and me into position directly in front of it. He watched us, waiting for something, and a moment later, I felt it. A cold draft of air exhaled from the floor beneath us. Neve jumped as it ruffled her skirt.

“What is that?” she asked.

“That was my question as well,” Emrys said. “Anyone want to make—”

“No one wants to make a bet,” I told him. “Or play a game. We are tired.”

“All right, all right,” he said. He lifted the visor of the rusty armor and reached into the emptiness behind it. He pulled on something—hard—and the floor rattled beneath us.

Cabell offered a steadying hand to Neve and me as the section of floor beneath us lowered.

“What in hellfire ... ,” he breathed out. My whole body tensed as the platform sank into the darkness of a tunnel—as ancient and crudely hewn as the tunnel beneath the great hall.

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