Page 104 of Avalon Tower
And then he goes still. His arms drop, and the screaming stops.
Is he faking it? If I release him, will he leap up and stab me? Wheezing, I keep the iron pressed against him, grinding that horseshoe into his face. Is he breathing?
The wood door slams open behind me, and powerful hands lift me off the mage. I whirl, ready to strike with the horseshoe again, and see Raphael’s beautiful face staring down at me. He grabs my horseshoe-wielding arm, stopping me from battering him with it.
“Take it easy,” he says. “I don’t think he’s getting up again, and I’d rather not get smashed with that.”
I let out a shuddering breath, suddenly dizzy. Raphael slips his arm around my waist to steady me.
Nivene rushes in at last, her scarlet hair damp with sweat. Chest heaving, she runs down the aisle and crouches by the veil mage. “Definitely dead,” she says after a moment.
I feel sick to my stomach. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I realize that I’ve taken a life for the very first time. I had to do it, of course, but it feels as if I’ve taken a step over a threshold I never imagined myself crossing.
Wrythe steps into the nave. “What is this?” His voice echoes off of the stone arches.
“You…should…have…listened to me,” Nivene pants, still catching her breath. She must have jumped out of the cab at some point and just sprinted here.
Tarquin appears in the church doorway. “She bribed someone to distract us. That’s not allowed, is it? Bloody bribery?”
Raphael turns to face him. “Piss off, Tarquin. You’re not needed here.”
“I want credit for getting here first!” Tarquin shouts.
Nivene turns around and slams the door in Tarquin’s face, a muffled yelp accompanying the loud thud.
Raphael abruptly pulls his arm from me and rakes a hand through his hair. The moonlight casts a silver glow over his perfect features, sparking in his eyes. “Report, Melisende.”
It’s been six months since he’d first demanded my report back on the ship with the refugees. I still remember the muddled report I gave him back then. And he still makes me feel a surge of confusing emotions, especially since he’s gone into knight mode, calling me “Melisende.”
Of course, I knew he was like this, didn’t I?
I manage to recount the events that led to this moment with all the relevant details. As I go through it, Nivene, Wrythe, and Raphael listen without saying a word.
When I’m finally done, Raphael turns to Wrythe. “Well?”
Wrythe looks at him with disdain. “Well, what?”
“Nia and Nivene warned you that the trial was a trap. Why didn’t you postpone it?”
“They gave no evidence. I can’t entertain every hysterical worry that goes through someone’s head just because they sense something. My wife senses impending doom ten times a day. She sensed that she was having a heart attack yesterday. And do you know what it was? Nerves. That’s all. Ten hours in the emergency room for her nerves. And do you know what else? It was completely outrageous for Ms. Melisende to take him on without a knight. As soon as she saw the veil mage, she should have turned back and found someone more experienced. Then, with actual proof, with data, I would have canceled the trial. We could have captured this assassin and interrogated him instead of just killing him. But she went after him alone, risking the lives of everyone involved, in the desperate hope that I would revoke her expulsion. And now, a valuable source of intel is dead.”
“You gibbering wank stain,” mutters Nivene, low enough that I can just barely hear it.
“Her expulsion?” Raphael repeats in a low, incredulous voice.
Wrythe narrows his eyes at me. “I intended to kick her out of Avalon Tower for insubordination, and I’m still fairly certain it’s the right call. But I suspect the other knights of the Round Table will be difficult about it. And given the circumstances, I’m willing to give her one final chance.”
I reach down and pluck the replica sword from the stone floor. If I had Nivene’s knack for politics, I would tell Wrythe what I really thought of him.
Instead, I give him a curt nod. “Cheers, then.”
“We will obviously need to reschedule the shadow trial.” Wrythe sighs. “Ms. Melisende can do it properly with the rest of the cadets.”
“No,” Raphael says.
Wrythe frowns at him. “Right. You think she should be expelled after all?”
“She won’t do the shadow trial again. She’s shown her leadership by sending cadets to call for backup,” Raphael says. “She followed an enemy agent through the fair without being noticed. Then she managed to delay two Pendragon cadets and arm herself with an improvised weapon. She finally ambushed a powerful enemy agent and took him down. Not to mention that she got her hands on the Excalibur replica, which was the trial’s goal, one that’s supposed to guarantee the highest marks. She not only passed the trial, she deserves the highest score for it, according to the rules we set out.”