CHAPTER 47
crouch behind a makeshift barricade formed of cars and military vehicles near the docks. A line of British soldiers waits alongside me,I guns aimed forward. We’re clearly no match for this army, but we can at least try to slow them.
I peer over the hood of a car to see the clipper ships sailing for the shore.
We managed to sink one of them with our cannons and damaged another severely, but the rest are still coming.
Volleys of arrows fly overhead, darkening the sky for a few horrifying moments. We can’t return fire. The Fey are mostly protected from our guns with their magical barriers. There’s only one of me to disable them, and I’m at the brink of exhaustion.
Cannons and guns thunder around us, and I survey the scene—arrows jutting from the dead on our side of the barricade, blood spilled over the streets. Acrid smoke floats through the air.
I hunch lower behind the car. Arrows litter the pavement near me, and the sound of screaming punctuates the battle. Soon, the Fey will be charging through Dover, killing everyone in sight.
From the docks, I hear the low, rhythmic beating of a Fey war drum, the booms loud as the cannons. The Fey blow their Feyhorns, a low and terrifying din that pierces my chest with primal fear.
Another volley of arrows shadows the sky above us, and I press close against the car door. More arrows clatter to the ground, inches from me.
I peer over the hood and see the first three ships glide onto shore. My
heart thunders as the Fey warriors jump onto the dock, their armor limned by the morning sun. Surrounded by their shimmering magical barrier, they charge, their ragged battle cries floating on the marine wind, a sound as
horrifying as a banshee scream.
The sergeant glances at me.
“Not yet,” I say.
“Steady!” he shouts at the soldiers.
More and more Fey storm ashore and swarm the cramped docks. The first Fey warriors are only twenty yards from us.
I summon my powers—a bloom of scarlet in my mind—and smash through their magical barrier. Their shield shatters. The heat bleeds from my body, leaving me cold.
“Fire!” Raphael yells, wrapping his arms around me.
Dozens of semi-automatic guns fire around me, the sound deafening.
Iron is not poisonous to this Fey army, and their bodies are stronger than the bodies of humans, but if you shoot them enough times, they will die.
Shivering, I see many of the first attackers fall to the ground, dead or wounded. We may not have many soldiers, but the guns are effective.
Raphael pulls me closer. He’s trying to keep the chill away, but he also wants to protect me, wrap me up in cotton to keep me safe, but that’s not why we’re here, is it?
The Fey keep coming, line after line of them, shrieking war cries against the hail of bullets.
Even with our guns, the attackers are upon us. Chaos breaks loose as they scale the makeshift barricade and the soldiers fire their guns.
Raphael bounds onto the hood of a car and unsheathes his sword. A Fey leaps after him, and Raphael cuts his throat, then immediately disarms another. He kicks a third attacker off the hood, then stabs him in the back. He is a whirlwind of violence, cutting down anything that comes close.
But the barricades near us have already been breached, and Fey warriors storm into the streets of Dover.
I unshoulder my bow and let an arrow loose, hitting a warrior’s side as he’s about to batter a human soldier to death. Another arrow flies over the mark.
More guns fire—marksmen we deployed in surrounding buildings.
Anarchy reigns around us, and the smell of blood mingles with gunpowder.
At least the barrier protecting the Fey is gone now.
And yet, some of them seem nearly impervious to bullets. A Fey warrior gets shot in the chest, but it barely slows him as he storms into a building with one of the snipers. A few seconds later, a dead human soldier crashes out of a window on the top floor.
As I nock another arrow, a Fey leaps in front of me. He’s six feet tall with silver hair, and his mouth is open in a feral roar. He swings his battle-axe at me.
I roll away, and he bounds after me. As he tries to strike again, he stumbles, a shocked look in his eyes. He falls to his knees, blood pouring from his chest. Raphael stands behind him, his blade dripping scarlet. “Nia, we need to go.”
I nod and get to my feet. “Sergeant, sound the retreat.”
Raphael wipes his sword clean. “The sergeant is dead.”
I follow his gaze and see the sergeant lying a few feet away from me in a puddle of blood. His eyes stare emptily at the sky.
“Retreat!” Raphael shouts at the soldiers. “Go, go!”
The soldiers obey, firing the occasional volley as they fall back. Atkinson has trained them well. The marksmen cover for each other, managing to get further away while slowing pursuit.
Raphael takes my hand and drags me out of the line of fire. I’m practically tripping over my own feet to keep up with him. We run toward the docks, the sounds of guns and screams filling the air. I’m already running out of breath.
“We need to get up the cliffs and out of the city!” I shout at Raphael.
“We won’t make it,” he says. “Too many Fey are already here.”
“Do you have a better plan?”
“Back to the boat.”
He’s right. Miraculously, the boat we arrived in is still intact and docked at the far end of the pier. Although the Fey came with an entire fleet, they’ve mostly landed on the other side of the port.
“What about the sea serpents?”
“They won’t go after one small boat. They’re here to protect the fleet
from the British navy. I hope.”
“You hope?”
“We don’t have a ton of options.”
We reach the long pier and start running down it, waves crashing to each side of us. The boat is just a couple of hundred yards away. In five minutes,
we’ll reach it and get out of— Oh, fuck.
Some warriors are still debarking, and five of them are marching toward us on the dock, blocking our way to our boat.
“Raphael!” I cry out.
We skid to a halt. Two of the Fey warriors at the rear of the group are among the most terrifying I’ve ever seen, a man and a woman, each nearly seven feet tall, clad in black armor. Their matching red cloaks flutter behind them like battle standards. The woman holds two battle-axes, one in each hand, and the man wields an enormous sword, the blade glinting in the sunlight. Compared to these two, the Fey in front of them seem like toy
soldiers.
“The twins,” Raphael says grimly.
“Who?”
“Maertisa and Vidal. Two of the fiercest captains in Auberon’s army.
They must be in command of this force.”
I swallow. “Oh.” I turn to retreat and find our way blocked by three more soldiers. They’re advancing on us. “We’re trapped."
“Nia, stay close to me,” Raphael says, raising his sword.
I stand with my back to Raphael, facing the three Fey coming from the direction of the city. My mind screams as they rush at us. I loose my arrow, and it pierces the throat of one of them, but the twins and their lackeys are bearing down on us from the other side. Raphael moves in a blur of speed, his blade whooshing through the air. He cuts down one Fey soldier, then kills the next with a sweep of his blade. He locks swords with the third.
Two Fey soldiers charge at me, and I unsheathe my knife. I can hear Viviane berating me in my mind, Who brings a knife to a sword fight?
I duck as the first swings his sword, then pivot and touch his hand.
Channeling my powers, I use the absolute terror I feel as fuel, pushing my fear into his mind. There is no time to process the strange thoughts that assail me. Instead, I crash against his senses, confusing him, making him mistake friend for foe. He turns and runs his blade through his Fey ally. I jerk my mind free as the Fey stares at the soldier he just killed.
“Einion!” he cries in anguish.
His confusion gives me an opening, and I lunge at him, thrusting my knife into his throat. His mouth gapes in shock and pain, and then he topples off the pier and into the foamy sea, disappearing beneath the waves.
Breathing hard, I turn around. Three dead Fey lay at Raphael’s feet. He’s fighting with Vidal, their swords clanging loudly as they duel. The woman, Maertisa, is gone, probably swallowed by the waves like the last Fey soldier I killed. I crouch in a battle stance, gauging the distance to Raphael and his opponent. The huge Fey is maybe a dozen yards from me. As I prepare to attack, someone grips my hand and twists it.
I yell in pain and drop my knife. A blade is pressed against my throat, and I reach for the knife hidden in my boot.
“I wouldn’t,” Maertisa whispers in my ear, pain flaring in my neck as she digs the blade deeper into my skin.
On the dock in front of me, I watch as Raphael parries a powerful stroke by Vidal, then twists his sword, sending his opponent’s blade spinning into the sea. Vidal grapples for Raphael’s sword, but Raphael smashes the pommel into the man’s face. Vidal falls to his knees, and Raphael raises his blade to finish him off.
“Raphael Launcelot!” Maertisa shouts, her blade tightening against my skin. “Your reputation precedes you.”
Raphael glances back. Seeing my predicament, he grabs her brother and places his bloody sword against Vidal’s neck. “Harm her, and you will be a single twin,” he says coldly.
We stand frozen on the dock, the sea wind shrieking around us. Blood drips down my neck and into my collar. I dare not even swallow.
“Well, this is interesting,” Maertisa says, almost as if she’s enjoying
herself.
“Finish her, Maertisa,” Vidal snarls.
Raphael presses the sword closer to the other man’s neck. “Quiet,” he says, “or you lose an ear.”
“Now, then, none of that,” Maertisa says silkily. “We’re not human barbarians, after all. Let’s talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” Raphael says. “You let go of the woman, and we go to my boat. When we reach the boat, I will release your brother, and we will leave.”
“I don’t think so.” Maertisa laughs coldly. “Release my brother first, and
then I’ll let my new friend go.”
“Not happening.”
“Then we stand here until my soldiers arrive to see what’s keeping their captains,” Maertisa says.
“If they even come close,” Raphael snarls, “I’ll kill your brother.”
“Ugh. What’s with all the killing, Launcelot?” Maertisa sighs. “I’ve heard tales, but I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty. Fine. I’ll tell you what. We go to the boat together. Once there, we release our hostages at the same time
and call it a draw.”
Raphael considers this. “Okay.”
I channel my telepathic powers through the fingers tightened around my arm. Almost instantly, I’m in Maertisa’s mind. It’s like reading the mind of an ancient, cunning spider. Her past is littered with dead Fey who’ve crossed her path, and she’s planning to do the same to us.
“Raphael, it’s a trap,” I blurt. “As soon as we sail away, she’ll send a sea serpent after us. They obey her commands.”
“Well,” Maertisa laughs, amused. “She’s a telepath. That’s so much fun! I have to admit she’s right. But who knows? You might manage to outrun a sea serpent in that boat.”
I’ve had enough. I tug at both my powers and pour myself into her mind.
I will make her drop her knife and— None of that, now, she thinks, and slaps my mind away.
I gasp, the connection broken.
“You will not fish inside my mind again,” Maertisa says aloud. “Try that one more time, and you’ll be the one to lose an ear.”
“Don’t touch her,” Raphael says, clenching his jaw.
“I’m growing bored,” Maertisa snaps. “If we wait here long enough, you two will die, but so will my brother. He’s an oaf, but I like him, so that’s not going to happen. I’m also obviously not going to let you both go. That would be ridiculous. Auberon would flay us alive. But I actually have a reasonable offer. Let us take you alive.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Raphael growls.
“You misunderstand. I’m not talking about both of you—just you, Launcelot. I’ll let the girl go.”
“Don’t!” Vidal shouts. “You can take them both—”
Raphael squeezes the man’s neck, and Vidal sags, unconscious. “Now,” he says, his voice steely. “You were saying?”
Maertisa seems unperturbed by her brother’s treatment. “I was saying, all I want is you. I’m willing to let the girl sail away.”
Raphael snorts. “You’ll send a sea serpent after her as soon as you have your brother back.”
“I won’t. You can keep that sword to my brother’s thick neck until this young telepath is well on her way.”
“No, you can’t,” I cry. “She’s lying. She just wants you alive. She wants to torture you so they can learn all you know. We can’t be taken alive.”
Raphael clenches his jaw. “Why do you even want me?” he asks.
Maertisa shrugs. “I could not care less about you. But Auberon’s psychics have been shrieking about the one person who might be able to stop him—the Guardian of the Lake. They say that’s you. And Auberon wants a chat, to figure out how one man could thwart all his plans.”
I gasp. The Lady of the Lake. That’s not Raphael. That’s me. Auberon’s psychics must have homed in on the general vicinity, but they got the wrong person.
“It’s me Auberon wants,” I blurt. “Tana told me. I’m the Lady of the Lake. The Guardian of the Lake. She’s been telling me this for months. You can’t let them take you. Listen, take Vidal on board the boat. Maertisa won’t send a sea serpent after you if you take her brother hostage. You can get away—”
Raphael holds up one finger. “How do I know you’re not lying?” he asks Maertisa.
She sighs. “Ask your telepathic friend. I’ll allow her a peek. She’ll tell
you that I speak the truth.”
Raphael looks at me. “Do it.”
I nod, but not because I intend to play her little game. Once I’m in her mind again, I’ll make her let me go.
I connect with her again, using my power, and instantly see that she’s being honest. She will let me go and allow Raphael to hold her brother hostage until I sail away. It’s a risk. She knows it’s a risk, but she suspects Raphael wouldn’t kill her brother until I’m out of the sea serpent’s range.
And by then, she reasons, there’ll be so many soldiers on the pier that she could disarm Raphael, even if he decides to cut her brother’s throat.
I won’t give her that chance. I go for her mind, channeling all my powers into her head, feeding it with the flaming roar of the fierce protectiveness I feel for Raphael. I will take control and make her drop the knife— This time, she pushes me out even more violently.
“My patience is wearing thin, telepath,” Maertisa says. “I told you not to do that. Now, tell your commanding knight the truth of my thoughts, that I will let you go and you can sail away, as far as your heart desires.”
I look at Raphael pleadingly.
“Is she telling the truth?” he asks.
The wind rises, and the waves get higher and higher. I have to convince him to leave.
“She…” I blink, my thoughts whirling. “No. No, she’s lying. She doesn’t care about her brother. She just wants you alive. She’ll kill me anyway. But she won’t kill you because you have her brother. And because Auberon wants you alive. You can get on that boat if you leave me behind.”
Raphael’s eyes soften. “Oh, Nia. For someone who spent so much time telling people what you thought they needed to hear, you’re still not convincing. I thought I trained you better than this. What sort of spy lies so badly?”
Tears sting my eyes. “I can lie just fine,” I say in a broken voice. “Just not to the people I care about. But you can’t let her take you alive. You can’t.”
“Well, this is touching,” Maertisa says, “I have to say, I just got all teary.
Now, let’s get this show on the road.”
To my shock, she lets me go and steps back. “Go on, telepath. Before I change my mind and decide that I might actually like being a single child.”
I hurry to Raphael. “Please don’t,” I plead desperately. “Let’s go together.
Take her brother with us. She won’t hurt us if we have him hostage.”
“She will,” Raphael says. “It’s true what she said. Auberon will flay her alive if he finds out she had an agent of Camelot in her grasp and let him go.
Especially the so-called Guardian of the Lake.”
“No, no, listen.” I lean closer to his ear, whispering. “They don’t know it, but they want me, not you. I’m the Lady of the Lake. I’ll give myself up, and you can get out alive—”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Raphael, I swear, it’s me they want—”
“I know that.”
I stare at him, stunned.
“Of course I know that. A single person who can stop Auberon? Of
course it’s you. My Lady of the Lake.”
“You know?” I whisper in disbelief.
“Get in the boat. Stay alive. Stop Auberon. Please. For me. End the House of Morgan and keep the Tower safe. Do this. For me.”
I can see that his mind is made up. He won’t get off this pier. I try to find a way for this to be different, but no matter what I think of, it ends with
Raphael dead or being captured.
I think of taking control of Raphael’s mind, of making him leave me here and take Maertisa’s brother as a hostage.
But I don’t. I can’t do that to him.
I turn away from him. Throat thick with tears, I get in the boat and switch on the motor. I’ve never sailed a boat myself before. I can hardly stomach being on one. But this boat has simple controls, and I drive away from the pier.
When I look back, Raphael is watching me, his blade still on Vidal’s throat. Maertisa waits patiently a few steps away, her red cloak fluttering in the wind.
My vision swims, and the figures on the pier become blurry as my eyes fill with tears.
