Mathonwy placed the scepter back in the outstretched hands of the pages, bowed to the monarchs, and exited, yielding the stage to the Earl and Countess of Fafnir. Countess Morgana had steel in her eye as she ascended the steps and stared down the scepter.
After he sidled his way through the crowd, stopping at the open bar in back for a spot of day-drinking, Arawn and Cai were waiting for him by the door to the roof.
Cai asked Math, “Are you kidding me?”
Math raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
Arawn shook his head. “Obviously, it’s broken.”
Math turned in time to see Maredudd, the heir to the Earl of Tarragon and a twerp who thought he had been Math’s high school nemesis, yank the scepter over his head. A lone, green spark popped out of the end and died on its way to the floor.
Math turned back to Cai and Arawn. “Looks like it’s working fine to me.”