Page 63 of Lady of the Lake

It’s a warning. Are the assassins coming now? The plan was for them to kill him in his sleep, but the lights are still on.

This is most certainly it. Tonight, Talan and Auberon will die.

Thoughts race through my skull, wild as a hurricane.

For weeks and weeks, I’ve maintained all these different roles and lies. Lying to everyone here, telling them I’m just a farm girl who fell in love with a prince. I’ve been lying to Talan, telling him I’m on his side against Auberon while I’m planning his death. Lying to the people in Avalon Tower and helping Mordred spy on them. It’s become nearly impossible to untangle the lies and remember who I really am.

When did I start lying to myself, hiding the truth from my own consciousness?

No matter. Right now, it’s clear as the moon in the sky that I’m not going to let them kill Talan.

Somewhere in me, there’s a cold part of myself that reminds me he’s the Dream Stalker, that he’s trying to destroy the human army. I’ve seen him casually slit a man’s throat over dinner. He was the mastermind behind the attack on Dover, behind the trap that was supposed to demolish our human allies in Scotland. Even if a fraction of the rumors about him are true, he’s a monster and one of the biggest risks to humankind.

His death can bring peace.

But even as my brain is screaming those things at me, I know I’m going to ignore logic. I’ve seen darkness in him, but there’s light, too, hidden in the depths of his dreams and the vulnerability no one else sees.

My chest tightens. What if I lock the window and keep them trapped outside?

Something tells me that might not be enough. Sir Kay wouldn’t hinge the entire plan on me. He suspects I’m compromised, and he’s right, because I am.

I could warn Talan, but that will raise far too many questions. I can’t risk blowing my cover.

I need to get him out of the room. The thought strikes me like a poison-tipped arrow.

I glance back at him. He’s lounging in a chair, reading, utterly relaxed. A lock of his dark hair falls before his face.

He looks up from the book, his sharp gaze rooting me in place. “Nia, why is your heart racing like someone is holding a blade to your throat? Either something suddenly scared you or you’re thinking about fucking me.”

My breath catches in my throat. “I get anxious sometimes. Want to go for a walk with me to see your dragon? It’s warm tonight.”

He tilts his head. “Anxious?”

There’s a word for anxiety in Fey, but almost no one uses it, and the moment it slips from my mouth, I realize my mistake. Anxiety is practically a foreign concept to them. The Fey feel fear, but they rarely put it into words.

I clear my throat. “You know, sometimes, I feel trapped. Let’s go out for a nighttime walk. I can feel spring coming, and I’d rather have you with me to keep me safe than some boring guards. Their conversation is no fun at all.”

Slowly, he slides his book onto the table. “A walk,” he repeats.

I shrug. “I want to go outside, and you should come with me. We’re Fey, Talan. We belong in the wild, not inside with books. We need to reallylive.”

A ghost of a smile. “You’re finally admitting you enjoy my company. If you’re not careful, Nia, you’ll be begging for more of it soon.”

He rises from his chair, and I reach out for him, hoping to hurry him along. He slips his hand into mine, and heat flares as always when we touch, an electrified jolt that races up my arm.

My heart is pounding as I lead him out into the hall. A few feet from the door, a powerful force knocks me off my feet, slamming me into the stone wall. My jaw snaps shut, and I bite my tongue. Blood fills my mouth. My ears are ringing, and my vision blurs.

Nothing makes sense. I’m seeing the starry night sky, even though we’re still inside the fortress. Smoke and dust swirl around me. On a nearby wall, a tapestry burns, its smoldering embers licking the air.

“Talan?” I rasp over the ringing in my ears. “What happened?”

I try to stand, but my body refuses to move. I glance down, and my stomach plummets. A massive stone pins my legs, and I can’t feel them. Are they crushed? I can’t feel them at all. My hips are wedged beneath part of the rock. Fear knots in my chest.

“I’ve got you.” Talan’s voice sounds far away.

He appears out of the smoke and kneels by my side, his jaw clenched. He grabs the rock with both hands. There’s no way he’ll be able to lift this monstrosity. It’s too large, too heavy. He needs help, but to my astonishment, he lifts the giant stone.

I drag myself from underneath the rock, and a dull pain starts to register. It hurts all over, but I can move my legs. They’re bruised but not actually broken. As soon as I’m clear ofthe rock, Talan lets go, and it falls to the floor with a terrible thud.

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