Page 24 of Enchanted Warrior

By way of reply, Nimueh turned the handle of the door and pulled it open. Almost panting with fear, Tamsin came out from behind her desk. Afraid or not, she wanted space to fight. She gripped the heavy tape dispenser, then released it. Whatever Nimueh had conjured was probably immune to something as mundane as a crack to the head.

The space beyond her office door seemed dark, lit only by the light falling through the stained glass windows. Nevertheless, Tamsin saw something move. She stepped forward, then hesitated. The fae swept an elegant hand toward the door. “By all means. Escape if you can.”

Sucking in a breath, Tamsin barged past despite reluctance to put Nimueh at her unguarded back. The church echoed with her hurried footsteps, each scuff resounding in the stone ribs of the vaulted ceiling. The fae followed but turned the other way, giving Tamsin a wide berth.

Within seconds, Tamsin knew why. Something flew from her left, diving at a steep angle. She ducked, dropping nearly to the cold stone floor, but her attacker pulled up sharply in a flap of leathery wings. Tamsin glanced up, her jaw dropping when she saw a creature with a wingspan as wide as her office desk circle to land on the edge of the largest window. For a moment it was backlit, a silhouette of pointed ears and clawed bat wings, but it shuffled along a ledge until the light caught its features. It had a face like a demonic lemur, all huge eyes and fangs, with a tufted lion’s tail that twitched with impatience. Tamsin gaped, all danger forgotten while she absorbed the strange sight.

“You brought one of the gargoyles to life,” Tamsin said, her voice trembling. This was power of a kind she’d never encountered before.

“Indeed I did,” said Nimueh. “And it’s rather hungry.”

The monster hopped off the ledge with a screech like nails on a chalkboard. It swooped toward Tamsin, wings spread and tail flying straight behind it. Tamsin ducked again, using a fat pillar as cover from its slashing claws. It wheeled in the air, far more agile than Tamsin would have guessed, and came at her again.

Tamsin slipped around the pillar again, but the creature was wise to her now, rolling end over end in the air and using its tail like a rudder. Tamsin bolted for the safety of her office, but it outdistanced her immediately. There was no easy escape.

“You aren’t pledged to the Round Table,” said Nimueh. “You aren’t one of their human subjects—you’re a witch. You owe them nothing. Lord Mordred could offer you much.”

Tamsin whirled, running for the stone lions now. Her feet were slipping on the floor, her braid bouncing against her shoulders as she ran. Behind her, the gargoyle’s wings beat like thunder. It would have been easy to give up and tell the fae about the clue she’d found. Maybe it would buy her some time, give her a chance to plan a defense. But every one of those knights was a man like Gawain. Turning them over, even a single one, would be little better than murder.

Tamsin’s lungs burned. She was gasping with fright as she dove between the stone lions, hiding in the space where Arthur’s tomb should have been. She crouched under the shelter of the nearest head, making herself as small as possible, as the gargoyle landed close by. It swiped with one claw-tipped hand, but Tamsin jerked out of reach. Up close, the gargoyle’s face was something out of a nightmare, with fangs jutting from its lower jaw and slits where there should have been a nose. Its eyes—huge, watery green marbles—were worst of all. For all Nimueh’s magic, they held no more life than the stone.

“You’re an abomination,” Tamsin growled at the creature.

It made a soft chittering noise, crawling on all fours, wings folded tight and hugging the shape of the stones it clung to. The movements were more insect than animal, sending every one of Tamsin’s nerves frantic with revulsion.

Tamsin could hear the heels of Nimueh’s boots clicking on the stone floor. Tamsin squirmed, trying to see over the lion’s back. The fae was coming closer, businesslike but unhurried. Tamsin fell back. The lions were a refuge, but they were also a dead end. She panted, nerves jangling. She was going to have to break cover and try for the side exit before Nimueh cut off her last hope of escape.

The gargoyle suddenly dropped in front of Tamsin’s face, gripping the lion’s mane with its back paws and grabbing with the front ones. Tamsin shrieked in surprise as needle-sharp claws raked her cheeks. Covering her face with one arm and batting with the other, Tamsin scrambled for freedom, but the gargoyle dropped onto her back, clutching her braid and hanging on with jabbering, squeaking glee. She cried out in pain, reaching around to jerk her hair free, but it chose that moment to bite, sinking its fangs into the flesh of her wrist.

Anger took over. Tamsin gripped the gargoyle and let fly with a pulse of blue energy, sinking it straight into the beast. It flung away with a squeal, arrowing at hideous speed until it hit the wall. The impact was horrific, an earsplitting crash ending in an almost gentle tinkle like the fall of broken china. The gargoyle was in pieces. Tamsin froze, horrified despite everything that she’d destroyed a piece of art. Then Nimueh was there.

Tamsin felt the stir of fae magic and didn’t hesitate. She hit first, hurling a bolt of power. The first caught Nimueh square on the shoulder, sending her off balance. The fae spun in a swirl of pale hair, using the momentum of the blast to catch herself and throw her own pulse of energy. Tamsin dove out of the way, rolling to her feet, and then struck out again. A flash of light strobed through the church, bleaching everything white with its brilliance. By the time Tamsin blinked the world back into focus, Nimueh was gone.

Tamsin swore, furious and relieved at once. Had she hit her?

A moment later, the main door groaned open. It was Gawain, looking around the gloomy cavern of the church. He caught sight of her and bolted to her side. “Are you all right?”

He skidded to a halt and dropped to one knee. After one look at her scratched face, he pulled her closer. Tamsin gulped down the aftermath of panic as she buried her face in his shirt, breathing in the warm scent of him.

“Tamsin?” he asked gently when she didn’t speak.

“I had a visit from Nimueh.” The words came out slowly, mumbled through a sudden fatigue. She’d fought back, she realized with a giddy lurch. She’d stood her ground well enough that the enemy had withdrawn.

He drew back. “How badly are you hurt?”

Tamsin looked down at her wrist where the creature had bitten her. There was an angry red mark, but it could have been worse. “I’m fine.” Then she started to shake, the adrenaline leaving her body in a rush. The world went foggy with tears.

“Hush.” Gawain folded her into his chest, comforting her with the warmth and strength of his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Tamsin let herself melt against him. Only a few days ago, he’d grabbed her in this same church, scaring her half to death. Now his gesture was one of concern. The rapid, fundamental shift left her shaken.

“Tell me everything,” he said, resting his cheek against her hair for a long moment before helping her to her feet.

She did, leading him back to her office as she described her encounter in detail. Gawain went quiet with worry. “I was afraid that Mordred would trace you. That makes working here a risk for you.”

“I might not be working here long. I’ll have to come up with some excuse about the gargoyle.” She grimaced. “I can’t exactly say it came to life and attacked me. Maybe I could say there was an earth tremor.”

Gawain looked dubious. “I wouldn’t believe that story.”

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