Page 112 of Avalon Tower

But right now, I don’t give a fuck what they think.

CHAPTER 38

My cheeks are flushed with anger, and molten rage flows through my blood.

Amon is telling me something, perhaps explaining the terms of the trial, but I can’t hear him over the ringing in my ears.

And in any case, I don’t need instructions.

Wrythe interrupts Amon, bellowing an introduction. Something about how he’s the Seneschal, and it’s his job to protect us from getting our hopes up. That this test separates the chaff from the wheat, and clearly, I’m the chaff.

But all I’m really listening to is the screaming hiss of my own fury. I don’t think I like you very much, and I never have.

“The trial of the veil is about to begin,” Wrythe calls out. “Within the veil, we have placed a replica of Merlin’s wand. Ms. Melisende will have to—”

I move toward the veil before he even finishes and summon my magic, letting the red bloom, a furious cloud. Red, the color of wrath. As I move closer, I immediately see what Nivene was talking about. The shimmering energy strands that make up the veil are enmeshed so densely that I can’t see any points of weakness in the magic. Nothing thin or fragile. No place to channel my magic. This veil is a wall of death.

Raphael’s words are still echoing in my skull. This is all a game to you. From what I can tell now, trash is a perfectly accurate description.

My heart hammers, a war drum.

Burning with rage, I pull at my magic, and it fuels the hot crimson inside me. I don’t bother searching for a weak spot. I hurl my magic at the veil, my teeth grinding together. To my right, the veil mage stumbles, then falls flat on his back. The buzz of the veil sputters and dies, and silence fills the hall. I hear only my own pounding pulse.

When the mist is completely silent and no longer buzzing over my skin, I stride inside.

Pearly white fog wraps around me. My foot kicks something, and I hear it spinning across the floor. I reach down for the wand and grip its gnarled wood.

I march out of the veil and toss it at Wrythe’s feet. It clatters noisily.

“There you go,” I say. “Your wand, sir.”

The veil mist slowly dissipates, and the mage seems to be unconscious.

A buzz of whispers fills the combat hall.

I hear little snatches of what they’re saying. “Did you see—”

“Didn’t even slow her down—”

“That veil mage just dropped—”

Wrythe stands, arms folded, glaring. His blond mustache twitches.

“I’m so, so disappointed to have to say this.” His voice booms across the hall. “But as Seneschal of this institution, I must protect you all. It is my job to shield you all from cheaters and liars. Clearly, Ms. Melisende has found a way to cheat. No one can simply step into a powerful veil like that without preparation. A veil this powerful takes time to dismantle. We all know that. Of course, this is the risk we take when letting anyone in, regardless of background.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I raise my own voice. “But maybe your veil mage sucks. Everyone connected to you is here by virtue of nepotism.”

His fingers twitch. “Do you really think I’d let a cadet get away with speaking to the Seneschal like that? And after what you just said to another knight?” he roars, looking for agreement around him. “We have protocols and procedures here. We have deference for those in superior positions. And at Avalon Tower, we do not cheat. So why don’t you tell me who you had helping you? Is it the other Sentinel? Nivene?”

Fury still burns through me from Raphael’s words. “I’m not a cadet anymore,” I say. “I just passed, and I’m an Agent of Camelot. This is not just a game to me, and despite what some of the knights might think, I belong here.”

He lunges forward. “As Seneschal, I’m saying you did not.”

He grabs my arm in fury. As I’m already thrumming with power, my telepathy engages at the sudden touch, connecting me to Wrythe’s mind. Tendrils of violet spiral out from me, slipping into his thoughts. I get my first glimpse into Wrythe’s psyche.

What shocks me is how empty it is. Like a void.

Even when I read Tarquin’s mind, I could feel his belief and fear. He believed he was better than me, and under that, he was afraid he couldn’t prove it. He believed in his family and the importance of being a Pendragon, and needed to prove himself to them. And even though he’s a twat, he believed in taking down Auberon, that it’s important, and that without it, humanity will fall.