Page 22 of Lady of the Lake

I pivot and pace the other way. The library stretches up thirty feet high, with spiral staircases leading to a mezzanine that swoops around the whole hall. Under the mezzanine is a cozy little haven: a bed nestled against bookshelves, lit by torches. Curtains drape around it.

The whole place is enchanted. The books’ spines shimmer with golden text that whispers faintly when you get close. High above, constellations glow on the rib-vaulted ceiling, not ones I recognize from earth but starry configurations from the Fey realm. They twinkle and shift beneath the towering stone arches.

As I pass the shelves, a book whispers to me, “The things you will find in my pages, Nia…”

I freeze. The title gleams in Fey,Fallen Star, a collection of poems about a beautiful man cast out of Avalon thousands of years ago. When I open it, I find notes written in Talan’s handwriting.

The voice returned to my thoughts, beautiful as the moons of Brocéliande, welcoming as the night’s sweet embrace. She whispers strange truths, some as foreign as distant stars. She speaks of a world scorched beneath an oppressive sun, endless rivers of pavement cutting through sterile lands. She hungers for something real. She hungers for magic in a city with none. Her restless search for beauty is like a mournful melody echoing in my soul. She seeks unbridled freedom, and she yearns for storms that tear through cities. She puts the fire out, but sometimes she craves the raging flames that would burn it all down.

I snap the book shut, my heart a caged bird. Talan has heard my voice for years, just as I’ve heard his. He felt my memories of Mom, her cigarettes setting the furniture on fire. He heard my loneliness—my every secret wish to escape LA’s suffocating heat.

Shoving the book back onto the shelf, I start pacing again. Now, worries roil my thoughts. Outside, storm clouds roll over the sun, tinged with gold light. They remind me of Talan, powerful, volatile. This place hums with his magic.

He’s out there, hunting for his traitor. For me. Based on his notes, he knew my thoughts before I’d ever spoken them aloud. And now…what else can he learn if I spend enough time aroundhim, or if I let down my mental shield? How long until he learns that I’m human?

I pivot again, retracing my steps on the flagstones. I need to escape. I need to warn Nivene, to contact Meriadec and his underground resistance. They need to infiltrate Lauron if this fragile web of lies is to hold together.

Things don’t often work out for spies. Plans change, agents get captured, spies end up on the rack. We live in a world of secrets, and no one remembers our names when we die in pools of blood in forgotten dungeons.

When the door opens, I jump. Heart slamming against my ribs, I turn to see Talan step inside, blood spattering his clothes. His power commands the room, raising my hair on the back of my arms.

My breath goes still as I stare at the crimson splatter across his shirt. “Whose blood is that?”

His gaze meets mine, icy and sharp. “I was searching for the traitor.”

“And you found one?”

He sighs. “Yes. I found a spy.”

My veins turn to ice, and I use every bit of mental energy I possess to keep my face a mask of calm. I breathe slowly, in and out. “Oh? Who was it?”

“I didn’t get his name, but I did manage to learn where some of his network meets.”

The floor tilts beneath my feet. “Where is that?” It comes out as a whisper.

“An old tavern called the Shadowed something. Unfortunately, that was the only thing I could wrench out of his wretched mind before he slit his own throat with a blade hidden up his sleeve.”

The blood rushes from my head. Slowly, I exhale a shaking breath. “I see. Where do you think the rest of them might be?”

He cuts me a piercing look. Under the light of the shifting constellations, shadows sculpt his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. “Why do you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”

I turn away from him to the window, dread opening in the pit of my stomach. “It feels like there’s danger all around. There’s your father wanting me dead, and Arwenna, and the traitors’ conspiracies.”

“There’s no reason to worry, Nia. I have made it very clear that if anyone breathes wrong in your direction, I will slowly remove each one of his bones and fashion them into daggers for my collection.”

“And what if my attacker is the king himself?”

He shrugs slowly. “I have my own plan for him.”

My throat tightens. “Bone removal—is that what you have planned for the traitors?”

He steps closer to peer down at me. “It’s really the threat that’s more important than the act. By the time I have them in my control, it’s already over for them. But you’re perfectly safe, Nia. You have the protection of the most dangerous person in the kingdom.”

My breath catches. “And what makes you so dangerous?”

He leans down, whispering by my ear. “Darling, don’t you know I’m a monster?” At this final word, lightning cracks the sky outside, and thunder rumbles so loudly, it shakes the glass.

I turn to look at the darkening sky outside, and another bolt of lightning spears the clouds.

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