Page 116 of Avalon Tower
The pale light glints from his eyes, making them spark like metal. These are the most important MI-13 agents in the world, and I only want to look at him.
With a sinking heart, I realize Ginevra Pendragon is sitting by his side. She wears her hair long, with a few braids threaded with jewels. In the pale light, she looks more beautiful than ever. When I glance at the portrait of Guinevere on the wall, I can see the clear resemblance. It occurs to me that she must have been named after her ancestor.
She leans in, whispering to Raphael. Her eyes are on me again, a smile on her lips. I feel my face flush.
This is exactly why romance is forbidden here because my mind is very much not on task, and I have to stop myself from walking out the door.
It’s been a week since I last spoke to him, when we screamed at each other. Soon after the trial, part of me wondered if his outburst was calculated. Did he know that making me angry would bring out my power? But when he failed to show up at any point to explain himself, I realized that might be false hope. If his insults were fake, the man had plenty of time in the past week to let me know. It wasn’t like he’d been away on a mission. I’d seen him around. And when I did, he simply looked the other way.
I breathe in deeply, scanning the rest of the table. Of the forty or so around the table, Raphael and Ginevra are the only ones wearing gold. The rest are silver. So where are the other Pendragons?
Viviane gestures at the empty chairs. “Sit, please.”
The three of us walk over to the empty chairs. We sit down just as the doors groan closed behind us. I feel the power of the table hum over my skin.
On the other side of the hall, the portrait of Merlin clicks, and the entire thing creaks open. A man steps through it, looking like a warrior who traveled through time. He has a long gray beard, and his face is lined with age. Unlike the rest of the people in the room, he’s dressed in actual chain mail armor with a silvery breastplate. And emblazoned on the breastplate is the Merlin Court coat of arms I’ve seen around this tower—one with an owl, stars, and the cycle of the moon. His armor groans as he crosses the large hall.
For a moment, I wonder if the rumors are true, if Merlin never died, and maybe he’s returned to us through his own portrait. But this man looks nothing like Merlin, and he wears a silver torc.
“Who is that?” I whisper to Serana.
“Sir Kay,” she whispers. “He is the leader of MI-13.”
He crosses to an empty chair set at the round table and takes a seat.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” His deep, commanding voice resonates around the room. “What we’re discussing today is of the utmost secrecy. There will be no sharing of any of this with anyone at the academy. Or, obviously, outside it.”
I exchange looks with Tana and Serana. What are the three of us even doing here?
“As you all know, MI-13’s efforts are held back by the veil,” he continues. “We make do with our Sentinels opening the way to small task forces, but it has limited our options.”
Nivene raises her eyebrow at me and nods.
“The veil is maintained by the Fey’s magicians,” adds Sir Kay. “Up until two months ago, there were ten. However, one of them was sent to assassinate one of our Sentinels and was killed.” He glances for the briefest second in my direction. “And another veil mage was sent to take out our entire cadet force, and was also, luckily, stopped and killed.” He clears his throat and takes another glance at me. “There are now eight remaining, which is better than ten.”
Ten minus two equals eight. My first grade teacher, Mrs. Mermenstein, would be proud of us all.
“Eight veil mages are still enough to maintain the veil around Fey France,” he continues. “However, according to our scholars, seven are not.”
Around the table, others start to murmur as well. Then Sir Kay thumps the table, and silence falls over the hall.
“The two attacks by veil mages have demonstrated that the Fey are scaling up their aggressive operations,” he says. “This is already enough to indicate their plans for something even bigger in the future. But if that wasn’t enough, one of MI-13’s most powerful psychics is with us in the room—now a knight herself. Ms. Campbell, would you share with the room what you told me yesterday?”
All eyes turn to Tana.
I can see the tension around her mouth, but she lifts her chin. “I’ve seen a terrible force coming from the Fey realm in the near future. Avalon Tower falls, taken apart stone by stone, and the blood of our agents feeds the earth. I’ve seen the deaths of each and every one of the courageous knights and agents in this room. The bodies lying unburied, picked at by scavengers. And soon after, humanity will follow.”
A terrible silence follows her words. I stare at my friend, and her dark eyes gleam. I have no doubt she’s actually seen those images. I’ve heard her crying in her sleep. Now I know why.
“Is it definite?” Nivene asks. “Or something that can be stopped?”
Tana shakes her head. “It’s not written in stone, but we don’t have long to stop it,” she says. “A few weeks.”
“Fuck that,” Nivene says.
“Yes,” Sir Kay says. “As our eloquent Sentinel points out, this is not ideal.”
“We need to bolster our defenses,” a knight with white hair calls out.