The King's Leash (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 7) (11 page)

“Try if you must,” Mordred said. “But should you succeed, which is not likely, everyone in this room wearing stars would die moments thereafter.” Mordred said loudly, “Do the king now.”

Across from us, Arthur’s star flared bright, and he too fell face-down onto the table with a sickening thunk. I couldn’t look. I couldn’t see how easily they could hurt him. Kill him.

“Arthur is useless if he’s dead,” I said quickly.

Mordred shrugged. “Merlin, will you serve the Department in the mission it asks of you. Will you do everything in your power to—”

“Of course. Stop this,” Merlin said.

“Done,” Mordred said.

Arthur jerked, and just like Adam, he breathed hard and looked wildly around him. The knights looked on the cusp of running toward Mordred and tearing him limb from limb. But even knights are sometimes smart enough to avoid suicide missions.

I took a deep breath. When I had come up here, I had thought the Department would likely try to put stars on Merlin, Lila, and I. But no, they had no need of their devices to gain our servitude. The way they bound us was far superior.

Mordred turned his gaze to me. “And now we come to Morgan le Fay, the great witch, though that’s a bit like saying the great rat. Unfortunately for your brother, I will have to—”

“All of them,” I said. “Do it now. Fell all of them,” I said, loud enough so that whoever was on the phone would hear me clearly.

A moment later thuds sounded around the room as everyone fell.

I could not look at Lila and Merlin and see the betrayal and horror in their gaze. I must not.

I stood. “I have demands that must be met.” I spoke slow and measured, as though we had all the time in the world. “I imagine whoever is on the other end of your phone has the power to negotiate?”

Mordred leaned forward. “And you imagine you are in any sort of position to do so?” Mordred asked.

“If I do not join you, I will bedevil this quest at every step.”

“If you managed to leave this building.”

“Do you truly doubt, young one, that I would have any trouble escaping?”

Precious seconds passed as Mordred grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. He listened and then nodded at me. “Go.”

“Morgan, stop this—” Merlin started.

“My demands are twofold,” I said quickly, for breath and life were in short and shorter supply in this room. “Everyone in this room will be truly freed when we succeed in our quest.”

Mordred scowled as he put the phone to his ear again. “Fine,” he snapped. “You should hurry.”

“Second, when we succeed, I will meet with the true leaders of this Department.”

Mordred listened again, and then nodded.

“Then I’m in,” I said. “And the gods save us all.”

Around the table, every slumped form jerked back to life, gasping in breath and coughing. One of the knights seemed to be having a seizure. Guinevere lay limply on the table, breathing and glaring at me.

I looked around the table, forcing myself to see how vulnerable we all were. How well and truly owned we each were in our own way. There were few in this world I cared for, and they all sat at this table. This Department did not get to play with our lives like they were game pieces on a chess board. Not without consequences.

Mordred squared his shoulders and looked ready to make a speech.

No. He would not get to be the leader of this quest. I would not allow it.

“Ancients of Camelot,” I said. “It is time you all learned why we have been brought together in this time and realm. The Department needs us to succeed where it has failed. They need us to work together and do what they cannot. We are all here to work together on a quest for the Holy Grail.”

I put my hands on the table to steady myself, for at the mere mention of the cup, the thirst grabbed hold of me. A thirst that gnawed through me and that would not let go, would not cease, until I drank from the Grail again.

Chapter 15

The Hunger

When I opened the door to faerie yet again, I saw that the fae were cleaning up their domain in their own way. Sprites jumped up and down on the tops of sluggish mushrooms, pounding them back into the ground. Butterfly fae flittered through the air, leaving behind sugary trails as they threw seeds hither and yon. Others painted the mold blooms on the ground bright pinks and purples.

I let go of the human’s hand, and he ran from me.

An hour ago I had revived him from his stupor and promised him that I could keep him somewhat comfortable through his faerie dust withdrawals. I had promised him I would assist him as he rebuilt a life among humans, and that he need not return to being a faerie slave.

He had looked at me like I was mad, and repeated incessantly that all he wanted was to return here.

And because I believed in freedom more than keeping him from his own terrible choices, I brought him back to this land.

He ran toward a circle of rotting stumps strewn with glitter, and sat down beside a hedgehog fae. The fae held out a pink bag to him, and a moment later the man inhaled a fistful of dust. I watched the look of ecstasy and wonder that came to him as he leaned forward and began mindlessly plucking mushrooms up from the ground. In some ways, I envied him.

“Morgan le Fay,” a squeaky voice said, and I turned to see the mouse fae and wood nymph approaching me.

“You look to be well along with your rebuilding,” I said.

They nodded.

The nymph jumped into the air and hovered before my face. “You will leave us to our domain, Morgan le Fay. You will not come here again.” For a creature all of five inches tall, she had a commanding voice.

“I will leave you alone, as I can,” I said. “But there may be a war coming to Seattle. Between humans and unders. Between some humans who wish to control us and own us. They think they can use us for—” I didn’t know what for, not yet, not truly, “whatever they wish.”

“We will hide,” the nymph said. “As we do.”

I nodded. I had already asked a handful of my most trusted under friends to spread the word about this new threat across the city. But the faeries were cut off from the rest of the under community. “Hiding has always been the first defense. But it may fail. Everything may fail.”

“Then they will find us armed to the teeth and ready for war,” Bombadrood said.

“Excellent.” I turned and walked away from them, hoping to never return.

Outside, Merlin stood in the rain, leaning against a metallic purple wall. “The man didn’t turn from the dust at the last minute?”

“Of course not.”

“Don't blame yourself, witch. That dust is a cruel mistress.”

I sighed. I knew too well about cruel mistresses. The Grail. I mustn’t think of it but how could I not? I wanted it. I needed it.

“And you warned the faeries?”

I nodded.

“We should speak about what happens when we find it,” Merlin said.

I watched the raindrops fall steadily down. “We shouldn't.”

“They can't have it,” Merlin said.

“And they can't not have it. Else Arthur and Adam die, among others.”

“And it can’t have you,” Merlin said. “I won’t let the Grail twist and ruin you again, Morgan.”

I licked my lips and whispered, “Gods. Can we go back, wizard, to having the biggest problem between us be that you are the King of the Damned?”

Merlin leaned toward me. “Let’s go back much further than that, to the days when you were a young and wild lass, and I was a young and wild lad, and we found each other and tamed each other,” he said. “Shall we?”

I nodded, wishing with all my heart that his fanciful words were a true spell. Wishing there was some way out of all of this that, one way or the other, would not destroy us both.

He kissed me and I kissed him. The world fell away and for a brief eternity, and nothing else mattered. It was all the sweeter because soon everything would come to an end.