Page 109 of Avalon Tower
“No, I’m drinking this now. I’ve got twilight cake, too. It’s time to bloody celebrate. Also, they’re knights now, so who knows if they’ll even hang out with us anymore? They’ll be at the knights’ dining hall from now on.” He lifts the bottle to my lips. “And you, Miss Nia, are going to do fine tomorrow. Absolutely fine.”
I take a sip of bubbly, and he pulls it away, admonishing, “Not too much, love. You need to be clearheaded tomorrow. Wrythe will try to mess you up, you know?” He raises the bottle to his lips and pours the champagne down his throat.
What, exactly, might Wrythe have planned for tomorrow?
CHAPTER 37
Istand on a balcony overlooking the smooth, misty lake. Oak and apple trees line the calm shore. In the fall air, I can smell the apples growing.
I’ve come out here to clear my thoughts before my final trial—one that I’ll be undertaking in front of every instructor and cadet at Avalon Tower. I don’t need any more dire warnings about how if I fail, everyone dies. Just the thought of being stared at by so many people has made me too nervous to eat. My lungs feel tight as I breathe in the foggy air.
It’s cloudy today by the lake, and the chill crawls down my collar, settling on my skin. Mist roils and twists over the glassy surface.
I still have no idea what it means that I’m the Lady of the Lake—if that’s true—but I feel drawn to this calm pool of water. I’m at home here. Did Queen Morgan rule from across this lake? I’ve never seen what’s on the other side.
As I think about her, the prince’s dark voice whispers in my thoughts. The shadows play in the quiet, stony solitude of my chamber. The cold night speaks to me, whispering of my final kiss. The goddess of death, her wicked tongue blessing mine…
“Fuck off, Talan.” I shiver, feeling like the quiet, cold air of the lake is freezing me to the bone. It worked, though. My thoughts are clearer now.
Turning, I head back through the balcony door, hugging myself as I walk through the towering gothic halls.
By now, the Culling has ended for most cadets.
But I have one more trial, the Sentinel trial, and I’m on my way right now, my nerves buzzing like the hum of the veil.
I can hear it as I approach the combat hall.
The magical mist thrums through the corridor. In about ten minutes, I’m going to be tested on my skill with the veil. There’s a lump in my throat, and I swallow hard. If I manage it, I’ll become an official Agent of Camelot. If I fail, beyond the terrible physical pain that the practice veil tends to unleash, I’ll be culled, and everyone will die.
All eyes are on me as I walk through the vaulted corridor, but I don’t look at anyone. I shouldn’t be worried. I’ve done it with the real veil a bunch of times before, but I always get more nervous in front of a crowd.
This final trial has become one of the most talked about —the final test of the Culling. Serana told me people are placing bets on me, and that the odds aren’t in my favor. I’m not entirely sure why everyone thinks I’m doomed to fuck up. It’s not like I’ve messed up any of the missions so far.
As I approach the combat hall, I see Raphael standing before a set of towering carved oak double doors. Nivene stands by his side, her cherry red hair tied up in a bun.
“Nia,” he says.
“Hey,” I answer weakly.
“You’re all messed up,” Nivene blurts. “Diametric. Cursed.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You know, you really have a way with people.”
“I mean, you’re a Sentinel and a telepath. It weakens your powers and turns you mad.”
I press a finger to my lips and cut a sharp look at Raphael. “I thought you said to tell no one. And why are you bringing this up now when I’m supposed to be focusing?”
“Nivene can help,” Raphael says. “We have a few minutes before the trial starts.”
I’m thrown off by this change in the plan. I’d been trying to clear my head, not learn new things at the last moment.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ve handled the veil before. The real veil, not this fake one. You have nothing to worry about.” I know what he needs to hear. “This will be easy.”
“You don’t understand,” Raphael says, and for the first time since the assassin’s attack, I see him almost…afraid. “This is not the veil-in-a-box we used during training. There’s a veil mage working with MI-13. He’s the one creating the veil for this trial. And he’s in the pocket of the Pendragons. Wrythe is furious that you beat Tarquin. It makes their gold torcs look like a fraud, so he’s primed this mage. The man is extremely skilled, and he’s going to make this nearly impossible for you to pass.”
Ah…so that’s why everyone’s betting against me.
Nivene looks pale. “I’ve just been in there. This veil barrier he’s creating? It’s the real thing. And it will kill you if you don’t disrupt it completely.” She grips my bicep tightly, her fingernails digging in. “Kill you.”