Page 283 of Kingdoms of Night

“Are you using telepathy with them now?” Morgan asked, her short attention span already on the next topic.

“It’s not telepathy. We speak in energy pulses.”

“Like Morse Code.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Will you teach me? I have so many questions I want to ask.”

“I…” Enid hesitated. Her hesitation was because she didn’t feel any actual hesitation at agreeing to Lady Morgan’s request.

Lady Morgan wasn’t watching Enid. She was eyeing the plants with hungry curiosity. Enid got the sense that the witch asked not to increase her power. She asked because she truly wanted the knowledge.

“Yes,” Enid found herself saying. “I’ll teach you.”

Morgan reached out her hand with the widest grin Enid had ever seen. There were no sharp canines visible. No twitch of the eye to reveal treachery was a blink away.

Enid reached her hand toward Morgan. But before their fingertips made contact, Enid jerked her hand away. Morgan frowned at the movement.

“Would you mind if we did this later?” asked Enid.

“Oh! You were eating, weren’t you? I read that fae took food into their bellies as well as into their flesh through the soil. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Morgan stood, dusting the dirt off her trousers. “Another time?”

“Another time,” Enid agreed. “I’d like that.”

With a smile and a wave, Morgan turned and headed back into the castle. She left Enid alone, sitting in the soil. Except Enid wasn’t the only fae reaching out into the soil. She hadn’t jerked her hand away from Morgan’s; it had been tugged away against her will.

She hadn't thought it possible. But she knew that tug. It was the feel of her father. She wasn't sure how, but his reach had extended into Camelot.

The ground gave a shudder, as though expelling him. The roots of the Welwitschia tree wrapped around her ankles again, letting her know it was once again safe. But Enid knew that if he got in once, he could do it again. And these people wouldn't be safe until he got whatever it was that he wanted.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

“You’re back,” said Geraint.

“You’re married.”

Loren looked the same. But there was something different about her. The same wild blond hair crowned her head. The same smirk that saidI solemnly swear that I am up to no good and you’ll never catch melifted the corner of her mouth. The difference was in the eyes.

The twinkle of mischief was still there. The shade of the light coming from within her was different. Before, the light in Loren’s eyes had been fluorescent, an electric current that produced a short wave of glowing phosphor. Much like the glow sticks partying youths waved around in drugged stupors at raves and outdoor concerts.

Now Loren’s eyes were more incandescent. More like a live wire that had been lit by fire and was glowing hot. Her gaze went deeper, like she’d seen some things she could never explain. Things she hadn’t let go of yet.

“Congrats, bro.” Loren opened her arms for a hug and took a step forward.

Geraint deftly stepped back from her. Regardless of what new things she’d seen, what she’d been through in her new adventures without him, he had seen enough from his last encounter with her. He had learned a hard lesson too, and he did not want to get burned again by this woman.

“We are colleagues, my lady,” he said, offering her a slight incline of his head. Try as he might, he couldn’t get his body to bend for her in a bow. From now on, he would remain rigid in any dealings with Dame Galahad. “If we are set on the same quest, I will endeavor to keep things professional and not contentious. I hope you’ll make an effort to do the same.”

“Did you get a vine up your arse or something?”

Geraint’s nostrils flared. His fists clenched at his sides. His ass cheeks would’ve clenched too if they hadn’t already been the object of inappropriate inquiry. But that was Loren.

Inappropriate. Indecorous. Inconstant.

Geraint noted the silence in the room around them. Looking up, he saw that all the squires were frozen in motion. Swords raised. One foot forward or back. They looked like toy soldiers posed in battle.

When his gaze connected with theirs, they hopped back into motion. The flat part of swords thunked down on the tops of heads. Jabs missed their connections, sending the striker flying across the room. It was chaos. As most things were when Loren was around. Knowing it was a battle he couldn’t win, that it was a battle he didn’t even want to fight, Geraint decided to put some space between himself and his former friend.

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