Page 47 of Enchanted Warrior

The rocky, sloping ground was no challenge, and he moved noiselessly into position. Climbing the tree was harder. For one thing, it was decorated with tiny, glittering bulbs that illuminated the yard below, and it would be far too easy to draw attention to himself by joggling the lights. For another, he had a sword. The best he could do was sling the scabbard over his back and hope he didn’t hang himself on a branch.

He was halfway up when fae patrols passed beneath him. Neither of the guards spoke, though Gawain felt the brush of a probing spell, as subtle as a bird’s wing across his skin. He froze, suspended between one tree limb and the next, waiting for the tendrils of psychic energy to pass by. Sudden movement would trigger the roving magic and bring the patrols running. He had felt no such power the night they had landed in the dungeon. If Mordred was taking extra precautions, he’d been rattled by their last visit. Gawain couldn’t help a satisfied smile.

He waited until the coast was clear before making his way to the roof. Remembering the plans he’d seen, he knew the library was on the top floor with a study on one side and a bathroom on the other. The bathroom had a skylight, and someone had left it cranked slightly open. That was all Gawain needed to force his way inside. Once there, the library was only steps away.

The room was just as Tamsin had described, with stained glass and bookshelves to the ceiling. There had to be thousands of tomes, all of them radiating the tang of magic. Gawain spun around, wondering where to begin looking. The sheer quantity of volumes was overwhelming. In his day, a single shelf of books had been the most even a rich man owned.

Magic fluttered the air behind him, and he wheeled around, sword singing from its scabbard. Then he froze. It was Tamsin, dressed in dark clothing and with her backpack over her shoulder. At first glance, she looked like a burglar.

“You shouldn’t be here!” he growled, but he did it softly. There were footsteps in the hall, and sooner or later someone was going to find the broken skylight. “How did you get in?”

“Angmar gave me instructions to make a simple portal,” she replied.

Gawain’s gaze landed on a shimmer right behind Tamsin, bending the light like ripples in water. It made a faint hum that set his teeth on edge.

“You came here without me,” she said, her tone accusing. “Not even spectacular sex makes up for this kind of idiocy.”

Gawain knew without asking that Beaumains, in the fine tradition of little brothers, had sold him out. “Go home,” he said. “I’ll follow.”

But Tamsin gave him a very female glare. “Don’t brush me off. I don’t deserve it.”

He knew she was powerful, but the urge to keep her from harm’s way blunted every other argument. “This is too dangerous.”

Tamsin’s cheeks flared a delicate pink. “Do you even know what books you’re looking for?”

“If they are as powerful as you say, I should be able to detect them.”

Tamsin gave him a sharp look full of questions he didn’t want to answer, then began scanning the shelves. “That depends on what else is here. This place reeks of old, powerful grimoires.”

It was clear he wasn’t getting rid of her. Choosing the next best option, Gawain let her search while he drifted closer to the door on silent feet, sword ready. Angmar might have been well enough to give a portal-building lesson, but he obviously wasn’t thinking straight. Mordred would notice a flare of magic inside his own lair. The longer the portal existed, the worse their exposure.

“Not there,” Tamsin muttered, moving to the next bookcase. “In my vision, they were somewhere over this way.”

He glanced over to see her reading the spines of archival slipcases that held the most ancient works. Her fingers walked across the covers, ensuring she didn’t miss a single book. Gawain shifted his weight, frothing with impatience. The footfalls beyond the door had become filled with purpose. Gawain took a better grip on his sword and braced himself. “Hurry up.”

He didn’t need a spell book to see this could go bad in a heartbeat.

ChapterEighteen

The moment Tamsin’s fingers brushed the fabric shoved to the back of the shelf, she knew she’d found what she sought. The worn cotton bag was her father’s, a loremaster’s sack spelled to keep out water, mold or anything else that could damage the contents. Here was clear evidence she was following her father’s footsteps.

Heart leaping, Tamsin pulled the drawstring open to look inside. The leather-bound books she hunted were all there—each one ancient, neatly stitched and written by hand, only magic preserving them from crumbling to pieces. There were five. The smallest was barely the size of her palm and the largest little bigger than a paperback.

Tamsin set the bag on a long, polished library table and drew out the smallest book, breathing in the scent of old paper. It soothed her nerves, reminding her of winter afternoons curled up before the fireplace, her father reading to her from volumes just like these. Quickly, she riffled through the pages, savoring the feel of them.

“I found them,” she said, tucking the books back inside their protective sack. “Let’s go.”

Three strides, and they would be back to the portal. Another second would take them safely back home.

Except the footsteps in the corridor outside had become a thunder, and the door burst open. A pale, slender man Tamsin had only seen in her vision strode through, followed by a wave of running guards. The leader—that had to be Mordred—held up a hand to stop his men.

“Cousin,” said Mordred to Gawain. “How lovely of you to drop by.”

Gawain stiffened, but then took a single step backward and brought up his sword. The movement was liquid, a dance step promising violence. At a signal from Mordred, he was surrounded by the fae. Then the world dissolved into a clash of steel.

Tamsin had never seen real fighting—not like this. She froze, clutching the books, for the space of a heartbeat. One beat too long.

She felt Nimueh’s presence before she saw her, as cold as a sudden kiss of steel at her back. “What have you there?” the fae asked.

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