Page 104 of Vale of Dreams

“This undercover position was a terrible idea from the start,” Raphael says sharply. “I told Nivene to refuse to go along with it. Nia should be back in Avalon. It’s incredibly dangerous here.”

“Fine. Nobody asked you,” I say, my patience at an end. “This is where we are. There’s a trap prepared for the human allies in Scotland. If I can get there in time to warn them, we can prevent it, perhaps even turn it to our favor. But I can’t use the ley portal anymore. The prince found out it’s being used by spies, and he has soldiers guarding it.”

Raphael gestures at me, frowning. “Then your cover is blown.”

“It is not blown.” At least, I fucking hope not. “But for now, I can’t use the portal. Which leaves only this.” I place the portal key on the table.

“What’s this?” Raphael asks.

“It’s a portal key that can be used to take up to four people through. Talan had it in case he was going to join the fighting weeks ago, but he didn’t use it. I don’t think it will take us to where the battle is now, but it will get us to Scotland.” I flip it, showing Raphael the runes etched on its interior. “The portal on the Fey side will be open in Penro. Do you know where that is, Ysolde?”

“Yes. It’s about two days’ ride from here.”

My heart sinks, and I shake my head. “Well, we need to get there within a day at most.”

“That’s impossible,” Ysolde says.

“It’s possible. We’ll have to ride all night,” Raphael says, “and switch horses once or twice. Meriadec can help us.”

“The guy from the pub?” Ysolde asks.

“A friend.” Raphael takes the portal key from my hand and inspects it. “What if it lands us in the middle of a Fey camp?”

“My source indicated that we can use it safely. He wouldn’t have told me about it if it would deliver us to certain death.”

Raphael’s silver eyes pierce me. “Who, exactly, is your source? Can we trust him?”

Oh, sure. The Butcher of Lothian Tower is super trustworthy. You’ve seen pictures of him murdering innocent women all over Camelot. You plan to kill his entire family. And by the way, he’s my dad. “Absolutely. We can trust him implicitly.”

A sorrowful expression shines in his silver eyes. “I need to think this through. I need to plan the best course of action and?—”

“We’re out of time. I’ve already thought this through. I’ve planned the best course of action. I rescued you from prison. I saved your sister and found a way to get you home, and I found out about the Fey battle plans. Does Avalon Steel mean something or not? Maybe, Raphael, I know what I’m doing.”

He stares at me, unmoving, until a muscle flexes in his jaw. “Fine. What’s your plan?”

I drum my fingertips on the table. “The prince is recuperating from an injury he received after an assassin tried to kill me but missed. I left a note for my maidservant saying that I’ve gone into hiding because I’m scared for my life. I think it’ll buy me a few days. You two know this kingdom much better than I do, and that’s why I need you. We need to get to Penro in a day at the most, preferably even less. We go through the portal and find a way to get in touch with Avalon Tower command. I know enough about the Fey trap to use it against them, but to do that, we have to get there as quickly as possible.”

“This is all moving too quickly for me,” Ysolde says. “I was still thinking of going back to the refugee fortress.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, my voice softening. “I know how you feel, but in our line of work, we always have to think and move quickly. You know this landscape better than Raphael or me. So, for now, I have to ask you to trust us. You want to help those kids? That’s great. In the long run, stopping Auberon and Talan is the best thing for them, too.”

And once again, I find myself desperately hoping that I’m right.

Raphael runs a hand over his close-cropped dark hair. “We’re going to need weapons.”

CHAPTER 39

Dressed as Auberon’s black-clad messengers, we ride through the cold night, our horses kicking up sprays of snow. I wear a bow and a quiver, but even fully armed, galloping through the darkness on icy terrain is a never-ending exercise in managing fear.

Brocéliande’s silver moon is a slim crescent, hardly casting any light. The red moon is half full, shading the landscape in an otherworldly, blood-hued glow. Crimson glints off icicles that hang from the trees. In this lighting, it’s impossible to distinguish among hollows in the path, black ice, shrubs, and rocks. Every few minutes, my horse—a nervous brown stallion—stumbles, and my heart stutters. But we have to keep up the relentless pace if there’s any chance of getting the warning to the allies in time.

Ysolde knows this land best, and she takes the lead.

In the cold air, I’m out of breath, and my lungs whistle, tightening. I pull out my inhaler and take two puffs before they start to release a little.

My mind whirls as we race across the landscape. I hope everything is in place.

We have to ride a few more hours northeast, where we’ll meet a connection of Meriadec’s. That’s where we’ll get fresh horses. Then, we’ll ride on to Penro, where we can travel through the portal to Scotland.

---