Page 138 of The Black Table
It’s all I can do not to snap it at him. But he looks…tired, for once. As old as he certainly must be.
“Well,” he agrees. “‘All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.’ Julian of Norwich. Mystic, 14th century. A seeker like yourself. And the first woman ever to write a book in English.”
I haveno time for this.
“What do we do now?” I say.
“Do?” He says. “Now?”
“Now that it’s all gone,” I say, gritting my teeth.
Emrys sighs. “Have you not seen it yet, Kingston?”
“Seenwhat?”
I’m sure I haven’t.
Because I haven’t seen anything but Gwenna’s face.
Awake, asleep.
For days.
Ever since she disappeared.
“The puzzles,” he says. “The little word games. The assignments I put to you and your…friend.”
The slight pause hits me right in the chest.
Friend.
If we were ever even that.
I’m losing patience.
“May I be honest, Dr. Emrys?” I ask. “Thoseassignmentsdidn’t need to be done.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “Butyouneeded to do them.” He pauses. “Both of you.”
I don’t follow. “What are you talking about?”
“You think I simply paired you two up by coincidence?”
“No. We—she?—”
“Yes, yes, the little contest. She’s brilliant, that girl. But you thinkthatwas coincidence?”
I frown.
“You needed to see what was plainly before you, and yet hidden. What is at once both above and below. Two-sided and yet the same.”
“What,” I grind out, “are youtalkingabout?”
Emrys exhales hard.
“If things were less dire, I’d leave you to work it out. But I’mafraid we don’t have the luxury of time.” He fixes me with a stare. “The grail isn’t awhat, Mr. Pendragon. It’s awho.” He smiles. “And you’ve had her right at your side this whole time.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
