Page 30 of Vale of Dreams

Mordred’s suggestion is so unnervingly similar to Darius’s words from earlier that a shiver runs along my spine. “Use him, manipulate him, and kill him. Are you speaking from experience?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. It’s what I did with my first wife, Cwyllog, a human from Camelot.”

Terrific. I’m surrounded by psychopaths. I rub my temples. “I barely kept him out of my mind. The first time I fall asleep near him, he’ll tromp through my dreams and learn everything about me.”

The moonlight illuminates half of Mordred’s face, sparking in his eyes. “You can protect yourself from that. Summon a veil in your mind, like I already taught you. Do it before you go to sleep, when you wake, and whenever you feel the Dream Stalker near. In time, you’ll gain more control over it. You just need to practice. And of course, your magic will only grow stronger in the Fey realm.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

He looks at me in surprise. “Well, I thought it was obvious. According to the prophecies, you’re the Lady of the Lake.”

“So?”

“Magic begets magic. If you spend a long time in a magical domain surrounded by Fey, your magic will grow. Your powers as a Sentinel, as a telepath, and as the Lady of the Lake will increase.”

I shake my head. “I’m not doing that. We have an agreement: you help me get Raphael out. And I need you to find out where Raphael’s sister is, because he’s refusing to leave without her. That part of the bargain isn’t completed. He needs to get out of Brocéliande. I’m assuming the silver moth works?”

He tilts his head slightly into the shadows, and for a few seconds says nothing. A golden speck flickers in his eye, looking almost like a moth taking flight. “Auberon is in his library, talking to one of his generals about an upcoming assault. In the kitchen, the staff is cleaning up after tonight’s banquet, and a maid just hid an unfinished loaf of bread in her bag, probably taking it home. The guards are patrolling the walls of the fortress, though the one in the eastern tower is nodding off. The moth works. I have eyes and ears throughout Auberon’s fortress. We will get your sweetling out.”

“Can you also find out what Auberon’s plans are?”

“Eventually, but it’ll take time. It would be much faster if you’d just seduce the prince.”

“No.”

The branches cast sharp, claw-like shadows that rake a ghostly dance over the planes of his face. “Have it your way.”

Exhaustion washes over me. What time is it, anyway? I desperately want to be back in bed. “I have to get back. I need you to remove the glamor before I go.”

He shrugs and brushes his fingertip over my ears, and I feel his magic buzz and tingle over my skin, my eyes stinging. “There. Now you look human again.” There’s more than a faint note of disdain in the word.

I nod. “I’ll return tomorrow.”

He smiles at me. “Will you? How considerate. But haven’t you forgotten something?”

I fold my arms. “What?”

“Your part of the deal.”

I shake my head. “I’ll help you take down Avalon Tower once Raphael’s sister is located and we get them both back here.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m aware that humans become frail and stupid as they age. I assure you, it’s not the same with Fey. I may be over two thousand years old, but I’m not an idiot, Nia.”

“Our deal was?—”

“Our deal was that we work together. I get your man out; you help me take down Avalon Tower. And I have your first errand.” He retrieves something from his robe. Another silver moth. “You planted one in Auberon’s fortress. Now do the same in Avalon Tower. I need eyes and ears there, too.”

My stomach clenches. “I’ll do that after Raphael is here.”

“You’ll do it today, or you’ll never find your way back to this island. I’ll make it disappear. Brocéliande will be out of your grasp, and the man you claim to love will linger there forever. He’ll likely be captured again, returned to their dungeons. Executed. I know he just broke your heart, but you’re not going to let him die, are you?”

My heart slams. I can do it. Plant the moth, then tell Viviane about it so that she can take measures of precaution against it. It’s a dangerous game, but the alternative isn’t great, either.

This isn’t just about Raphael. Maybe he can even free his sister and find a way to survive there in hiding. But the prize I can’t give up is the portal. I can’t relinquish access to Brocéliande.

But there’s one little problem—I have only Mordred’s word about what the moth does. How do I know it’s not a weapon as well as a magical wiretap?

“I don’t even really know what this moth is.” I narrow my eyes. “It could be a bomb that kills us all.”

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