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“You wished to speak with me privately,” Guinevere said, her expression serene as always. “Come, this way.”

I didn’t bother asking how she knew. Perhaps it was simple intuition. Perhaps it was just a logical guess. Perhaps the bird on her shoulder had told her.

Tuva, the owl, swiveled her head and looked back at me from luminous, lantern-like gold eyes. I quickly looked away.

When I lived in Camelot, I had never seen the owl with Merlin. And yet when I returned from the Court of Umbral Flames, the owl had appeared. In her last days, Merlin and the bird had seemed inseparable.

Now the bird clung just as closely to Guinevere’s shoulder. Following her everywhere, the bird’s eyes watching everything and everyone around.

Guinevere led the way back through the temple, into the corridors reserved for those who served in the complex, and then to a private chamber.

Stepping in, I was relieved to find it wasn’t the set of rooms Merlin had used.

This room was already Guinevere’s own, pretty and peaceful. The walls were covered in pale, ancient murals that showed scenes of nature from across Pendrath. The floor boasted a delicate mosaic pattern in blues, greens, and purples. Brocade-covered chaises were positioned along the walls, inviting those who met with the priestess to sit and share their worries. The scent of a familiar herb wafted through the air from a bronze censer hanging high in the center of the room.

Lavender. That was the smell. A calming herb.

Very appropriate. As if Guinevere knew exactly the topic I planned to bring up.

Somewhere along the way, Kasie and Lancelet had vanished. Now Guinevere sat down on the edge of a chaise and gestured for me to do the same.

Now that I was here, I felt a little awkward. But the more I had been through, the less I felt the need to mince my words.

I looked directly at Guinevere. “You know I wish to destroy the grail. I need to know, Guinevere. Will doing so kill my brother?”

The brown-haired girl—for she was still so very young, hardly older than I was, that I couldn’t help but think of her that way—gazed back at me, unspeaking. She had been through so much already in her young life—as had I. Now she stood ready to take on the burden of becoming the new spiritual leader of Pendrath.

Reaching up a hand to the owl on her shoulder, she gently stroked her feathers with a practiced motion. The bird hooted, almost tenderly, then with a flutter of wings, took flight and alighted on a perch across the room.

I felt impatient. “You said we hadn’t lost everyone who could tell us about the objects of power. What did you mean by that? It’s been weeks since then. Do you know anything that can help me before I leave or don’t you?”

A look appeared in Guinevere’s eyes that was almost disappointed. I felt chagrined. My tone had been too harsh.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but she was already speaking.

“It’s all right, Morgan. You’re right.”

“I am?”

She nodded. “Perhaps I should not have said what I did that night.”

Now it was my turn to feel sinking disappointment.

“Because the truth is,” she continued, “I don’t know. I don’t know everything. And what I do know is...” She made a gesture of frustration, unlike anything I had ever seen her do before. “Shrouded. Confused. Not useful. At least, not to you right now. You need hard facts, and right now, I’m trying to make sense of it all.” She took a deep breath. “All I can promise you is that I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are,” I said, finding myself wanting to give her the comfort it was evident she couldn’t give me.

“Yes,” she said directly, looking at me. “It may kill Kaye as you fear. No. It may not kill him. That is the true answer. I don’t know. Knowing that, what will you do now?”

I felt shocked into silence.

Then the answer was on my lips. It required no deep thought because I had no choice.

“I’ll still destroy them. I have to.”

“I understand,” Guinevere said quietly. “There is an expression. ‘The calm before the storm.’ They say it in Lyonesse.”

Her brown eyes held mine, and I felt goosebumps spread over my skin.