CHAPTER 34
o matter what Nivene said, I must try to stop the trial from taking place. If Avalon Tower postpones the trial by even one day,N Auberon’s operation will fail tonight.
As I march straight to Wrythe, the night breeze rushes over me. Wrythe is staring at his pocket watch, standing alone on the dark grass. His bored expression quickly changes to annoyance when he notices me.
“You have three more minutes, Ms. Melisende. I realize that your chances of passing are minimal, but surely you want to appear to be making an effort.”
I lean in close. “Nivene, the other Sentinel, believes there might be an enemy assassin here,” I tell him. “Auberon’s forces know that the trial is taking place, and they’re using the opportunity to pick off the cadets.”
He stares at me, and a line forms between his eyebrows.
“You must know that one of their veil mages already tried to take me out in Avalon Tower,” I continue. “They’re on the attack. Surely the word of an experienced Sentinel is worth checking out?”
“Something is worth checking out,” he finally says.
I exhale in relief. “Good.”
“It’s worth checking how you’ve come so far, seeing that you’re so desperate to avoid this trial that you’re willing to invent a ridiculous threat.
Do you realize how dangerous it is to spread disinformation like this?”
Irritation flares. “I just spoke to Nivene—”
“Nonsense!” he barks. “I am the Seneschal, and I should fail you right
now for this attempt to disrupt the trial. I will give you one more chance, but don’t come to me with this codswallop again.”
“I know I’m just a cadet, but Nivene isn’t. Are you really going to risk the lives of all these cadets just because you’re too arrogant to listen?” I blurt.
A second later, I realize how loudly I’ve spoken. Silence settles around us. Serana and Tana both look at me, mouth ajar in horror.
“Oh, Ms. Melisende,” Wrythe whispers. “You’ll regret saying that. You are done. Participate or not, it’s all the same to me. Tonight, after this trial, I will see to it that you’re expelled.”
My jaw drops, and I back away. I can hardly breathe.
Wrythe turns to the rest of the cadets. “What are you staring at?” he snaps. “The trial has begun. Get going.”
The cadets rush out of the church ruins, slipping into the city streets.
Tana, Serana and Darius stay behind. And Wrythe, of course, who retreats to a stone wall to fold his arms and scowl.
My lungs feel tight as I walk toward my friends in the vestry. I pull out my inhaler and take two puffs.
“Did he just expel you?” Serana asks me.
“He certainly threatened it.” I feel sick. “But believe it or not, there are more important things happening right now.”
If Nivene is right, the rest of the cadets are still in mortal danger— including my friends. On top of that, this attack would virtually destroy the future of MI-13.
I force myself to focus. “Forget Wrythe. I need your help, and I need you to trust me. Nivene just told me there’s another veil mage here, like the one who tried to kill me. And he’s here to take us all down.”
I quickly explain the rest, and my friends listen in shocked silence.
Just as I’m finishing, there’s a whisper from the conch shell, and I lift a finger to my ear. “Nia,” Nivene says, “I’m heading to Whitechapel. What’s the fair looking like?”
I clear my throat, touching the conch. “I’m still at the church.”
“Why are you still there? The veil mage wasn’t there. I’m not trying to be rude, but are you thick?” Nivene asks.
Her tone is sharp and judgmental, and I’m quickly catching on to what she meant when she said she’s “not good with politics.”
“Hang on a second, Nivene.” I look at my friends. “I have to go, but I need your help. Can you get Raphael or someone else from Avalon Tower
over here? He was on the boat with us when we came to London. I know this is a lot to ask when we have a trial going on, but if the other Sentinel is right, we’re in deep trouble.”
“How are we supposed to find him?” Serana asks. “I have no idea where he is.”
I think about it quickly. “Most of the knights will be at St Katharine Docks, where the boat came in. Possibly Westminster or Downing Street.”
My mind whirls. “Or that secret weapon store where MI-13 gets its supplies on Artillery Lane.” I look at Tana. “Okay, there are several possibilities, but try to find them, however you can. Tea, tarot, whatever works. Maybe split up to cover more ground. Just, please, go as quickly as possible.”
“What are you going to do?” Serana asks.
“Nivene and I can sense veil mages,” I say. “I’m going to help her find him. Hurry.” I start walking, glancing back at them as I do. “We don’t have much time.”
I speed out of the derelict churchyard and head along a curving road that leads to the Tower. Wisps of fog coil past me. I pass a pub with warm lights, steamed windows, and the chatter of people drinking inside. I break into a jog over a flagstone pavement until the steam fair comes into view.
Fog hangs over the brightly colored rides. Since modern technology stopped working, we’ve gone back to some of the more old-fashioned pleasures—steam fairs, carriage rides with horses, steam ships. In fact, if Wrythe expels me, I’ll be heading back to the U.S. on one of those pretty soon.
A group of men are walking past a merry-go-round, drinking beer from plastic cups. As I pass, one of them stumbles into me.
He says something to me, something about giving him a smile. But I can hardly hear over his screaming thoughts.
I WANT TO RUB MY FACE IN HER TITS.
I glower at him. “Fuck off.”
“What did I do?” Nivene asks in my ear.
“Not you.”
It’s crowded here, and I can smell the beer coming off everyone. My telepathic powers flare, and I worry it will make it hard to hear the veil magic.
I walk past a ride made to look like swinging ships, trying to smother my telepathy as people brush past me, and summon the threads of my Sentinel
powers, listening for the quiet hum of the veil mage. Stopping at a stall, I buy a pint of beer. If I’m going to blend in here, it seems necessary.
With my beer in hand, I slip into the crowd. “I’m at the steam fair by the Tower,” I tell Nivene. “Nothing yet.”
Lights flash around me, and shouts pierce the air.
“Okay,” she says, her voice vibrating strangely in my ear. “I’m nearly at Brick Lane. Nothing here yet.”
“From how far away do you think we can sense him?”
“Depends how trained you are. I can probably sense him from a few hundred yards. But you? Twenty, thirty yards, tops.”
There’s that “bad at politics” thing again.
But I think she’s also right. Even when I’m near the veil itself, I don’t hear the buzz until I’m a few dozen yards away. And with everyone drunkenly shouting around me, I can hardly think straight.
An enormous pipe organ is shrieking to my left, while on my right, a loud machine is emitting a stream of pink steam with an ear-shattering hiss. On top of that, Nivene is whispering in my ear, demanding that I walk faster, concentrate, tell her as soon as I sense anything, wanting to know why I haven’t found him yet, and— It’s there and gone. Just a hiss, a murmur, so weak that I sense it more than I hear it. But it’s familiar and resonates with my magic. The hum of a veil, somewhere to my right, already dissipating.
I push my way in the direction I think it came from and move through the fair, closer to the river. As I nudge against a large man, I get a glimpse into his thoughts, something about a cuckoo clock he wishes he hadn’t bought. I push his voice away, trying to suppress my telepathy while letting my Sentinel power grow. Tuning out the distractions feels impossible, like trying to thread a needle while jumping rope, but there! That hum again, just a hint, but this time, it’s more constant. I can follow it through the crowd.
“Cheer up, love!” a man shouts at me. “Might never ’appen.”
I’m already past him, by the river walk now. There are no more rides here, but stalls of people sell fish and chips and pies.
I know he’s somewhere down here by the dark, glittering Thames.
Now, the hum is getting louder in my ears.
“Nia, I’m in Whitechapel,” Nivene says. “I think I’m going to turn around
and—”
“I have him,” I say breathlessly.
“What? Where?”
I catch my breath. It takes me a second to remember what this entrance to the Tower is called. “I’m at Traitor’s Gate by the Tower. I can’t see him yet, but I can definitely feel him. He’s on the move, heading for Tower Bridge.”
“Bloody hell, I’m way too far north,” Nivene says. “Don’t lose him. And no matter what, don’t engage him. Wait for me, okay?”
“Got it.”
There are a ton of people on the riverside walk, and I scan them as I move, assessing each person for risks, details, pieces of information. A policeman saunters over the cobblestones, looking unconcerned. A couple is making out against a tree, and a man is trying to jog but somehow going the
same pace as everyone walking.
Then I see him.
He stands out because of his clothes and his height. He wears a hoodie that shadows his face and black pants. All black, just like the other veil mage I encountered. Not different enough from other bystanders to draw attention…unless someone’s looking.
Now that I’ve spotted him, the hum grows louder. Just as he glances over his shoulder, I slip behind the slow jogger, sticking to the shadows. As I do, I realize the veil mage has doubled back and is heading into the thick of the fair.
It’s hard following someone alone. Usually, when tracking a person, you do it with a team. Then, you can break away as someone else switches with you. Have enough people working together, and your target never realizes he’s being followed at all. But when doing it alone, I have to improvise. Let the target get out of sight constantly. Do my best to camouflage myself in the crowd, sipping my beer like I’m just another drunk person. My one advantage is that even though I can’t see him, I can still hear him humming in my ear, the buzz over my skin.
I whisper updates to Nivene, telling her each ride and stall that I pass.
She’s on her way, trying to get a taxi to get here faster. She keeps telling me not to engage him, repeating the admonition so many times that I wish the conch shell had a mute button.
But I can still hear him. He’s moving to the outskirts of the fair, heading north. He hurries past the rides, but he’s still close. I think the humming is coming from a stone and brick church. A blue sign on the marks it as ALL HALLOWS BY THE TOWER—FOUNDED 675.
I think the hum is coming from there, but Nivene isn’t here yet.
I’m standing at the edge of the fair, just before a stall with a horseshoes game and prizes of creepy eyeless dolls.
While I pretend to be interested in the stall, I keep my focus on the hum behind me, making sure that it doesn’t shift. It’s a tricky thing to do, like trying to taste music or listen to the sunlight. Sentinel magic isn’t supposed to be used to track a person. But as far as I can tell, he’s still there, inside the ancient church.
I smile at the stall keeper, a balding man in a tracksuit, and pay for a single ticket.
“There you are, love.” He hands me three iron horseshoes.
When I touch them, if I focus very hard, I can feel a faint tingle on my fingertips. But since I’m not fully Fey, it’s barely noticeable.
“I’m totally gonna win this thing,” I say.
“I have no doubts.”
My first horseshoe goes way off mark. “Damn it! I was so close!”
“All in the wrist, darling.”
“Hey, do you think that old church is open? Do they have bathrooms?”
“Bathrooms,” he repeats.
“Toilets. The loo. I have to pee, and I hate the portaloos.” I toss the second horseshoe. A bit closer but still way off.
“No idea, really. Not sure I’ve ever been in a church. Not my thing. Pretty sure they close at night.”
“Have you seen anyone going in there?” I ask.
“Nah, looks dark,” he says skeptically. “Not recently, anyway.”
I still hear the buzz coming from that church.
I toss the third horseshoe, and it’s so off the mark that it nearly hits one of the eyeless dolls. “Ugh! I really want to win one. Give me another try.” I pay for another ticket.
He hands me three more horseshoes. “I’m sure this time you’ll get it.
You’re definitely getting the hang of it, darling.”
“I know, right?” I toss the first one, nearly taking his head off.
“Church was open earlier, though. I saw people going in. Not being funny or nothing, and I’m not prejudiced. Nothing against demi-Fey. But they’re just not right, you know? They just didn’t look right. It’s the eyes.” The large man grimaces. “Feel like they’re gonna steal my soul. Creepy fuckers.”
“Wow, demi-Fey? I’ve never seen one. What did they look like?”
“Fucking weird, pardon my language. The man had pointy ears, obviously. Dark hair. Tattoos on his arms, eerie silver eyes like metal.
Beautiful blonde woman with him. You know, I don’t mind the women demi- Fey quite as much. I’d give her one,” he says thoughtfully. “Pardon the expression.”
I toss a horseshoe, and it clatters to the floor of his stall. A thought starts to blossom in my mind. “Did they have anything with them?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
I open my eyes wide. “Well, like you said, they’re dangerous. And you know the saying, if you see something, say something.”
He holds up a finger. “Do you know what, love? The fella was carrying something. It was in a box, like a musical instrument or something. They never brought it out again.” His eyes widen. “Do you think they could be planning something? You don’t think it was a bomb, do you?” He scrubs a hand over his mouth. “With all these people here? Should I call the police?”
I toss both horseshoes one after the other, so off the mark that one nearly hits one of the prize dolls. “It’s probably nothing. I doubt demi-Fey even know how to make a bomb. We don’t want the police shutting the whole fair down over an empty box.”
What I know at this point is that Raphael and Vivian came in earlier and
left a package here, then left.
The Excalibur replica.
The veil mage’s plan starts to crystallize in my mind. This is where the trial ends—the veil mage figured that out. Why chase people through the street when they’re all going to come to the same place?
I casually lean on the side of the stall and glance back at the darkened church.
Then my heart sinks. Across the street, I see Tarquin and Horatio peering in the entrance to a building. Wrythe must have tipped them off to the general location, but they don’t know the exact building yet.
A teeny, tiny part of me thinks it would be tempting to let them blunder into the trap, but as much as I hate them, I’m not going to let Avalon Tower
cadets die at the hands of our enemies.
“Nivene, where are you?” I whisper.
“The bloody cab driver went the wrong way!” she shouts. “Will you fucking turn around, you absolute muppet? Not you, Nia. The cabbie. No, I will not pipe down—”
“I can’t wait, Nivene.”
“What? Wait, Nia—”
I pull the conch shell from my ear and pocket it.
“Third time lucky?” The stall owner hands me the horseshoes.
“Sure, why not?” I take them and quickly toss them again. Two land right on target, cluttering as they clunk together.
“Blood hell, how did you do that?”
“I must have got the hang of it.”
He goes over to pick them up, then looks around for the third one.
“Listen, mate,” I say, leaning in to whisper. “Can you do me a favor? See those two guys over there?” I point at Tarquin and his friend. “They’re students I know, and I want to prank them.” I pull two twenty-pound notes out of my pocket and slide them onto the counter. “I’m gonna hide. Can you call them over? Act as if you have something important to tell them.”
He pockets the cash. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell them you’ve got King Arthur’s sword. You know, Excalibur?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s an inside joke. Ask them to guess a password, and if they get the password right, they get Excalibur.” I slide another twenty-pound note onto the counter. “It’ll be hilarious, trust me. Give them the doll I just won, tell them it’s a clue. All I need is five minutes, okay? Just buy me five minutes.”
He shrugs and stuffs the third twenty into his pocket. Tana had insisted we all bring cash for bribing, and she was—as usual—correct. “Happy to oblige.”
I race around the church to the entrance at the other side, my feet pounding over the flagstones. As I run, I hear the stall owner calling Tarquin and Horatio.
I find the arched stone doorway and push inside. The veil mage left it unlocked. He didn’t want any cadets to get lost, of course.
It’s dark as I enter, but the hum of his magic fills the air around me.
