Page 62 of Vale of Dreams

“What do you mean, she betrayed the Fey?”

“She never wanted me to go to war with Arthur. She refused to raise her Shalott army to help me, even though together, we could have changed the tide of the war. We could have won. So, Mother went with only the Avalon warriors. And what was she supposed to do? We had no other choice. Arthur wanted to take over Avalon. Merlin wanted Morgan’s throne for himself. I managed to kill Arthur, Guinevere, some of the others in Lothian Tower, but it wasn’t enough while Merlin still lived. He hunted Mother and me down, and the real battle began. He destroyed everyone in the House of Morgan except me. I was too strong for him.”

“Are they all dead?” I ask quietly.

“I assume so. And during these centuries, I’ve been planning to slaughter the House of Merlin, to wash Avalon in their blood. I refused to let a scion of Merlin sit on my throne, pretending to be the true king. But Merlin, that covetous prick, trapped me here and created Brocéliande. He hid his cowardly son from my wrath, hid all their court. They tricked the Fey into believing Auberon was their true king, and now Auberon rules as a usurper in his own false kingdom. A pretender on the throne. Nimuë, Lady of the Lake, couldn’t forgive Merlin. So, we all ended up trapped in the end, didn’t we?”

I rub my eyes. “Okay, that’s enough history for tonight. Is there anything else urgent you’ve seen in the spy moths?”

“From the moth in Avalon Tower, I’ve learned that the Pendragons’ machinations involve devising some sort of new weapon they plan to deploy against Auberon’s armies.”

My eyebrows flick up. “Well, I have no issues with that. Anything else?”

He sighs. “Yes. Perhaps this is something you will care about. Your friends in Avalon Tower will taste the bitter draught of betrayal soon. Do you have issues with that?”

A chill runs up my spine. “What do you mean?”

“Those demi-Fey in your room? Tana and…Serana? And that Darius fellow. Too bad about what’s going to happen.”

My heart pounds harder, and I take a step closer. “What’s going to happen?”

He clicks his tongue. “The Pendragons are planning a night of terror. Tonight. Assassins in the dark. Anyone they see as an enemy, and that’s anyone with Fey blood. Your friends assume they’re safe in their tower room. They’re wrong.”

My breath shallows. “Why didn’t you tell me this as soon as I got here? I have to warn them.” Without another thought, I’m turning to rush back to the lake’s shore.

Mordred grabs my arm, his fingers tightening on my bicep. “If you don’t go back to your room in Brocéliande, your cover will be unmasked. And then what will happen? You’ll end up on one of those little execution blocks.”

I look up at the moon. “I have a few hours. I can get there and back in time.”

“That little freckled maid will find you missing from your bedchamber at dawn.”

“Mordred. I need to warn them.” I tug my arm free. “You knew I would as soon as you told me.”

Mordred glances over my shoulder, and a distant look crosses his blue eyes. “Perhaps I was hoping to see if you were made of stronger stuff. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. But no, so easily you cast everything away into the cold winds.”

“Yeah, well, I’m happy to say I’m not you.” I look around the empty, barren space. “Perhaps if you were less like yourself, you wouldn’t end your life so alone.” At that, I turn and start running. I have just about six hours to row the boat to Avalon, warn my friends, and get back.

CHAPTER 22

As I run up the stairs of Lothian Tower, my lungs are screaming. My asthma is always much worse in the winter during physical exertion. I’ve grown complacent because it doesn’t seem to bother me in Brocéliande.

But tonight, after I rowed across the lake, then ran upward through the streets of Camelot and up several flights of steps, I’m wheezing, gasping. The anxiety isn’t helping, either. Please don’t let me be late. Please don’t let me be late.

There’s no Iron Legion cadet standing guard against the nefarious demi-Fey in the Astolat Atrium, and I take that as a bad sign. Someone called them off. Is that because there’s no more need to spy on these demi-Fey?

Please don’t let me be late.

I reach the door to our room and slam into it, tumbling inside. I half-expect to find my friends with their throats slit, but to my relief, the first sound that welcomes me to the room is Serana’s snores.

Tana sits up in her bed, her hair frazzled, eyes blinking in confusion. “Nia?” she mutters sleepily.

“Quick,” I blurt, breathing hard. My lungs are shrieking with every breath, sounding like a broken whistle. “The…key…we…must…lock…” I can’t keep talking, my head is spinning. I stumble to my nightstand and fling the drawer open, hoping to find my extra inhaler still in it. Instead, I find three combs, a book titled Vampires Stay Hard, and glitter eyeliner. I blink, gasping for breath.

Someone sits up in my bed. I draw my knife, ready to fight.

“Nia!” Darius says.

“Darius.” I exhale. “What are you doing here?”

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