Page 104
Story: Lady of the Lake
We reach a window, and I realize I’m supposed to scale the wall. “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Down we go.”
I scoot outside, legs first, and find the first foothold, but one question haunts me. I don’t belong anywhere, so where am I supposed to go?
By the timewe get to the docks, I’m out of breath again, and I take two more puffs of my inhaler. Thank gods for this thing. My legs feel shaky and weak.
The sun is rising, the dawn’s rays glittering on the water’s surface with flecks of gold.
My heart clenches when I think of Talan.Rose and honey.
Tana stands by the docks with a small rowboat, and she shifts a sack into the wooden hull. To my surprise, I recognize another woman by her side: Ysolde, Raphael’s silver-eyed sister from Brocéliande.
“Iknewyou’d make it,” Tana says, beaming.
But despite her smile, her cheeks are wet with tears, and her eyes are puffy and bloodshot.
“I’d be dead if it weren’t for you,” I say.
She steps forward and hugs me hard. “Avalon Tower is doomed. Death hangs above it like spreading darkness.”
She pulls away from the hug.
“It’s a plague,” I say. “That’s the Pendragons’ secret weapon against the Fey.”
“What?” Ysolde looks grief-stricken.
Tana frowns. “Of course. Something tiny and huge. The cards told me over and over, but I didn’t understand until now.”
“To be fair to the tarot cards, they were made before modern biological weapons existed,” Serana says. “I mean, it’s a complex idea to convey with things like the six of swords and the Fool, right?”
“It would have been helpful if they’d updated the major arcana with something like the Evil Scientist,” Darius adds. “Or the Power-Hungry Warmonger, which are both pretty commonthese days? So, it’s not like, ‘Oh, five of coins and an upside-down club. Maybe there’s a biological weapon hidden in the tower.’”
Tana looks at me. “These two will never stop taking the piss out of my fortune telling, and yet they rely on it for literally everything.”
“I’ll stop taking the piss when I’m dead,” Serana says with a smile.
“Let’s hope that’s not today,” Tana says.
“On that note,” Darius says, “let’s get Nia out of here and go look for Raphael.”
Serana reaches out to help me into the boat. “Can you row?”
“She doesn’t need to. That’s why I’m here,” Ysolde says. “I can send her to Avalon.”
“Avalon?” I ask weakly.
“To see your dad,” says Ysolde with a smile.
Tana points at the boat. “There’s a small pouch of jasmine tea in the pack and some sandwiches. It’ll get you through this sickness that hovers around you. Stay away from Camelot. You will die if you return today.”
I sigh. “Cool. Apparently, I’ll die in Brocéliande, too.”
Tana shakes her head. “No, I didn’t see that one. Camelot is where the danger lies. But please take care and leave the virus situation to us.”
A lump rises in my throat as I wonder how long I’ll be stuck on Avalon with my dad, listening to him reminisce about the glory days from two thousand years ago.
Finally, they all stand back. Ysolde shuts her eyes and breathes deeply. Tiny waves churn around the boat, and it drifts away from the shore, carried by Ysolde’s magical current.
As the boat glides over the lake, the golden city shrinks, fading like an old memory. I feel unmoored, adrift, rootless. But hasn’t that always been the truth for me?
I scoot outside, legs first, and find the first foothold, but one question haunts me. I don’t belong anywhere, so where am I supposed to go?
By the timewe get to the docks, I’m out of breath again, and I take two more puffs of my inhaler. Thank gods for this thing. My legs feel shaky and weak.
The sun is rising, the dawn’s rays glittering on the water’s surface with flecks of gold.
My heart clenches when I think of Talan.Rose and honey.
Tana stands by the docks with a small rowboat, and she shifts a sack into the wooden hull. To my surprise, I recognize another woman by her side: Ysolde, Raphael’s silver-eyed sister from Brocéliande.
“Iknewyou’d make it,” Tana says, beaming.
But despite her smile, her cheeks are wet with tears, and her eyes are puffy and bloodshot.
“I’d be dead if it weren’t for you,” I say.
She steps forward and hugs me hard. “Avalon Tower is doomed. Death hangs above it like spreading darkness.”
She pulls away from the hug.
“It’s a plague,” I say. “That’s the Pendragons’ secret weapon against the Fey.”
“What?” Ysolde looks grief-stricken.
Tana frowns. “Of course. Something tiny and huge. The cards told me over and over, but I didn’t understand until now.”
“To be fair to the tarot cards, they were made before modern biological weapons existed,” Serana says. “I mean, it’s a complex idea to convey with things like the six of swords and the Fool, right?”
“It would have been helpful if they’d updated the major arcana with something like the Evil Scientist,” Darius adds. “Or the Power-Hungry Warmonger, which are both pretty commonthese days? So, it’s not like, ‘Oh, five of coins and an upside-down club. Maybe there’s a biological weapon hidden in the tower.’”
Tana looks at me. “These two will never stop taking the piss out of my fortune telling, and yet they rely on it for literally everything.”
“I’ll stop taking the piss when I’m dead,” Serana says with a smile.
“Let’s hope that’s not today,” Tana says.
“On that note,” Darius says, “let’s get Nia out of here and go look for Raphael.”
Serana reaches out to help me into the boat. “Can you row?”
“She doesn’t need to. That’s why I’m here,” Ysolde says. “I can send her to Avalon.”
“Avalon?” I ask weakly.
“To see your dad,” says Ysolde with a smile.
Tana points at the boat. “There’s a small pouch of jasmine tea in the pack and some sandwiches. It’ll get you through this sickness that hovers around you. Stay away from Camelot. You will die if you return today.”
I sigh. “Cool. Apparently, I’ll die in Brocéliande, too.”
Tana shakes her head. “No, I didn’t see that one. Camelot is where the danger lies. But please take care and leave the virus situation to us.”
A lump rises in my throat as I wonder how long I’ll be stuck on Avalon with my dad, listening to him reminisce about the glory days from two thousand years ago.
Finally, they all stand back. Ysolde shuts her eyes and breathes deeply. Tiny waves churn around the boat, and it drifts away from the shore, carried by Ysolde’s magical current.
As the boat glides over the lake, the golden city shrinks, fading like an old memory. I feel unmoored, adrift, rootless. But hasn’t that always been the truth for me?
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