Page 121 of Lady of the Lake

Last time I flew Tarasque, she knew exactly where to go. She carried me right back to her home in the Lost Palace, where she belonged. But now, we’re heading for Avalon, and I have no ideahow to tell her that. The truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing at all.

“Talan,” I say, my voice cracking, “can you guide her down to Avalon?”

Nothing.

His body is slack, the tension fading from his muscles, and I know with sickening certainty that if I don’t get him help soon, he’ll die.

Tarasque veers suddenly, arcing away from the city, and I grit my teeth in frustration, my hands shaking.

“Talan!” I’m screaming his name into the wind, my throat raw. “Please wake up, for me. I love you.”

Still nothing.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until the world blurs. Talan’s body trembles against mine, and my mind is chaos—wild, brambly, panic-stricken.

The roaring wind fades to a hush, as if the sky is waiting for Talan to speak again.

I press my head to Talan’s back, breathing hard, trying to feel any sign of life. Ineedhim to survive this. Taking a deep breath, I summon my powers, unfurling my magic and sliding into his mind.

His thoughts are vivid and beautiful—and mostly about me. There I am, lying in soft grass beneath a weeping willow, bathed in coral light, the branches swaying above me. Now he’s dreaming of me in a bookstore, sliding romance novels onto a shelf.

I love the way he sees me, but that’s not what I need right now.

I remember what Raphael and Viviane once told me:If a telepath isn’t careful, she can drown in another’s mind. Lose herself. Forget where she ends and the other begins.Since then, I’ve always kept an anchor, a piece of myself tucked away.

But not now. Now, I let go and dive deep into Talan’s mind, drowning in his memories.

His mind is a raging storm—the years of isolation, the torment of the dungeon. The haunting memories of his mother holding him in her lap, then her agonizing, excruciating death from dragon fire.

The memory burns away, and he’s swimming in a river. It’s the first time he heard my voice in his thoughts. The first time since his mother was killed that he no longer felt alone. He swims under the icy river, wanting more.

There’s so much of him. Too much. How can someone with such turbulent, powerful emotions remain as calm and aloof as he does?

I’m racing on the back of a dragon, tearing through the skies. Rain hammers against my skin, and I like it that way.

I guide her, touching the scales by her throat to urge her to turn. Dragons used to terrify me. Dragon fire killed my mother, and the terror of that almost broke my mind. But now? I’m certain they’re misunderstood creatures, and that’s something I understand very well indeed.

I touch my dragon’s neck on a scale by her spikes, guiding her.

Then, suddenly, cold fury. All-consuming. I think of my father, Auberon, as he leads me through the streets of Brittany. I think of him burning his own subjects, scorching them into oblivion. My father speaks of duty like he means it, but no king has ever ignored his duty more than he. Iwillkill him.

But that’s not my father…that’s not my memory.

You are Nia.

You are my love.

You walked the hot pavement beneath an unrelenting sun.

You put out the fires, swept up the broken glass, locked the doors and windows each night.

You lived with a silent ache, holding everything together until the world that needed you finally opened up, and you fell in.

It’s as if Talan has gathered every scattered piece of me from the sea of consciousness, each one collected with careful, steady hands. One by one, he’s threaded them back together, making me whole. And then, gently, he places them in my mind.

My eyes flutter open.

I’m on top of Tarasque. Talan is slumped, nearly unconscious in front of me.

---