Page 89 of Avalon Tower

“I can’t wait to see the veil,” Darius says. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“I’m excited just to leave Camelot,” Serana says. “I haven’t stepped out of these walls in a year.”

I sigh. “I think I’m going to miss you guys when I’m all alone in my room.”

Serana drops down at a table with empty chairs. “Sure you will. I bet you can’t wait to have it all to yourself without my snoring and Tana hogging the bathroom.”

I smile at her. She doesn’t realize how much I’ve come to love having friends in my life.

“Hi, Nia!” A woman across the hall shouts my name, and I turn to see her smiling at me. She’s next to a man with platinum blond hair. Both of them grin and wave.

Flustered, I wave back.

“Fans of yours.” Serana says. “Word got around about the mission. Everyone knows that you took down the Dream Stalker.”

“I don’t have fans.” I laugh. “And unfortunately, I did not take him down. The man is still alive and well.”

But maybe I feel a little flicker of pride as I scoop some wildflower salad onto my plate. It’s an Avalon Tower classic of pansies, violets, dandelion leaves and an elderflower vinaigrette. The main course is wild mushrooms with rice, seasoned with butter and thyme. The rich scent of it makes my stomach rumble. Already, my mouth is watering, and my mood brightens.

At first, when I went on missions, I was treated with suspicion and jealousy. Tarquin and the Pendragons spread around the term public bus, then Naughty Nia and a whole host of other names. For months, others in the academy followed the Pendragons’ lead, whispering Tarquin’s nicknames, sometimes painting them on my door.

That changed after the last mission. Now, a different sort of rumor has spread. I don’t know how because everything that happened was supposedly classified. But people know enough to realize that I played an important role in the mission.

I take a bite of the buttery mushrooms and rice, savoring the faint taste of truffle oil.

Serana has already shared some of the wild gossip she heard about the mission. That I single-handedly fought the Dream Stalker, straddled him, and snapped his neck. Others say that I saved everyone by galloping on a stolen horse across the island of Jersey. But the story she found most outrageous was one where the agents had all been trapped in an endless nightmare by the Dream Stalker, and that somehow, I broke us out using only my mind.

I sip my mead. In any case, the general opinion of me has definitely shifted for the better. And while Tarquin tries to keep the mockery alive, everyone else seems to be losing interest.

Tana plucks a fluffy berry pavlova and drops it onto her plate. “And how was Wrythe today?”

“An arsehole,” Darius answers. “Wouldn’t expect anything else of him.”

“Are you ready for the big trip, Tana?” I ask.

Tana isn’t going to see the veil. Like me, she’s seen it often enough, but they need her with them to sound the warning in case of danger. The academy doesn’t want to lose their entire year of cadets because they failed to take proper precautions.

“Yes, all packed.” Tana gently nudges Serana. “You’ll forget to pack your socks, so I already packed some for you.”

“Well, now that you told me that I’ll forget, I’ll definitely remember,” Serana says, her mouth full. “I like to do the opposite of what people expect.”

“No, you will not. The cards do not lie.” Her gaze slides to me. “And speaking of which, I’m still wondering about that lovers card. Remember? A lover from the past? It wouldn’t be Raphael, would it?”

My stomach drops. Sometimes, it’s deeply inconvenient having a psychic friend. “He’s taken, isn’t he?” I say, flustered. “Serana, when you first brought me to Raphael’s room, Ginevra was in there.” I try to look casual as I drum my fingertips on the wooden table. “And Raphael wasn’t wearing a shirt. Aren’t romantic relationships strictly forbidden here? Guess we shouldn’t tell anyone about it or ever bring it up again.”

The words all come out in a frantic tumble, and Serana arches an eyebrow. “Now, what is going on here, exactly? You and Raphael?”

I shrug, trying to look casual. “Don’t be ridiculous. He hates me, remember?”

Tana narrows her eyes at me. “But you knew him in the past, didn’t you? And it wasn’t just a friendship.”

My stomach swoops again. “Me? We were just talking about Ginevra. Ginevra,” I repeat.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“She really doesn’t want you to get kicked out for something dumb, like shagging an instructor,” says Serana. “You’d better not lick or otherwise touch him while we’re away and you two are alone.”

“The lover from the past…” Tana prompts again.

---