Page 63 of Vale of Dreams

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want to stay in my own room. The atmosphere is getting very hostile, so I figured since you’re gone, I could bunk here a few days.”

“Where…my…stuff…”

He opens the second drawer in the nightstand, and I rummage in it, finding the inhaler. I put it to my mouth, taking two deep puffs and drawing them into my lungs.

“Lock the door,” I blurt, still half out of breath. “Assassins coming.”

“What’s going on?” Serana mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “What are you doing here, Nia?”

Darius, to his credit, functions much better when awakened. He leaps out of bed and scrambles to find the room key underneath a bunch of Serana’s things. Within seconds, he’s at the door, turning it in the lock.

I clutch my inhaler to my chest. “I’ve come to warn you. The Iron Legion is attacking tonight. Targeting all demi-Fey in the tower. What other demi-Fey do we need to warn?”

“No one,” Tana says. “Apart from us, they’re all in Scotland. Viviane is in Ireland, preparing a backup base of operations.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling ill.

That’s why the Iron Legion chose to strike today. Just three demi-Fey to take down—easy to overcome, but a terrifying message to the rest.

“How did you get this information, Nia?” Serana asks. “I thought you were in Brocéliande.”

“I was.”

Darius frowns. “So how did you get a warning about the Iron Legion?”

Mordred’s Hemlock Oath has me limited in how much I can tell them. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, they’re coming.”

Serana stares at me. “Was it Mordred?”

Darius shakes his head. “But how would he know what’s happening at Avalon Tower? He can’t leave Avalon.”

I’m not about to drop dead from the oath just to fill them in. “It was a source I trust for information. That’s all I can say.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tana says. And for just a second, I see her glancing at my palm, where a trace of the scar from the Hemlock Oath is still visible.

Serana turns to her weapons chest and flings it open. She pulls out a curved blade and swings it twice.

“Here.” Tana walks over to me and hands me a water bottle. “Drink. You look like you ran all the way from Brocéliande.”

“I sort of did.” I take a long swig to find that it’s cold jasmine tea, Tana’s drink of choice. Right now, it feels like heaven.

“Darius, axe or sword?” Serana asks, sticking a knife in her belt.

“Do you have that nice blade that I gave you for your birthday?” Darius asks.

“No, it’s at the blacksmith’s. I wanted the pommel adjusted.”

“What’s wrong with the pommel?”

Serana’s red hair gleams in the moonlight. “Nothing, I just like them bigger.”

“It’s not the pommel’s size that matters, it’s?—”

“Hello!” I say. “Assassins, remember?”

“Give me an axe,” Darius says sulkily.

Serana throws him an axe, and he deftly catches it in one hand and twirls it.

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