Page 99
Story: Lady of the Lake
Tarquin frowns. “I thought we’d take her to the Pendragon Tower for questioning.”
Wrythe smiles. “No. I think we should take her through the main steps. Let everyone see who’s truly in charge and what happens when you defy us.”
Genivieve hesitates. “But, sir, our spies say Raphael and his lackeys are gathering this morning. If they see us?—”
“I want them to see us.” Wrythe’s smile is cold as frostbite. “They’ll soon understand who holds the reins.”
CHAPTER 46
Ican hardly walk straight. My head spins, and weakness assails my body as Wrythe’s lackeys lead me down the stairs. I’m having a full-blown asthma attack. They’re dragging me, their fingers pressing tightly into my biceps.
“I need my inhaler,” I wheeze.
Wrythe chuckles. “You’ll survive.”
All it took was an inhalation of thetiniestamount of biological agents to trigger my asthma. What would a concentrated dose do to a Fey?
“Am I infected?” I ask weakly. “Is this Feybane?”
“Yes, I believe you are,” Wrythe says. “Not a very strong viral load, I’m afraid, but you have been mildly affected, yes. You will recover from it, but of course, we have other ways to end your life.”
The only mercy right now is that little note I read. Demi-Fey can contract it but not spread it.
Wrythe sighs loudly. “And the Feybane has, of course, revealed who you are without your magic. Weak. Falling apart. Defective. Unable to breathe.”
What would happen when they unleashed a deadly virus targeting a weakened population?
I feel my airways narrow to a pinhole as I think of all the people I’ve met in Brocéliande. Aisling. Griflet. The unknown resistance members who were genuinely trying to help us. The demi-Fey kids in the Blue Dragon compound—that little blonde girl with curls who slept clutching her blanket.
I think of the Fey kids by the river in the countryside with their snowy mittens and rosy cheeks, and the one with a big gap where her baby teeth had fallen out.
I think of Talan murmuring,You looked like dawn.
And now they’re all going to die.
And it won’t stop there, of course. There are Fey in France and all over the UK who would spread it. Demi-Fey in our world will catch it, too. We’ll all die. There’s no controlling a weapon like this.
I have to do something. I have to let people know.
My mind is a whirlwind as Wrythe drags me through the halls of Avalon Tower.
Does he think he can stop me from telling everyone the moment I see them? The demi-Fey here have to stop him, and the humans, too. Not all of them are part of the Iron Legion. Not all of them are bloodthirsty for Fey deaths.
We’re approaching the stairwell that Tana was watching. I don’t see her, a good sign. Maybe she ran for help.
“Sir Wrythe,” Genivieve says, “we can take her back through the Pendragon quarters directly to our private interrogation facility. There’s no reason to do this publicly. It might cause chaos.”
“We don’t do things in the shadows anymore,” Wrythe says. “Cadets and knights have no right to curtail a Seneschal’s legitimate power. We need them to be afraid of the consequences. They will learn to comply.”
“But she can tell them about the biological agent.”
Wrythe scoffs. “Let her.”
My jaw clenches. Good. His confidence will be his weakness.
If there was ever a time to overthrow Pendragon control of Camelot, it’s now.
But the route we take to the bottom of the Merlin’s Tower is strange. Wrythe doesn’t lead us directly to the main doors. Instead, he makes his way through various shortcuts, as if he’s trying to avoid any scrutiny. Is he going to sneak me out and into the interrogation chambers after all?
Wrythe smiles. “No. I think we should take her through the main steps. Let everyone see who’s truly in charge and what happens when you defy us.”
Genivieve hesitates. “But, sir, our spies say Raphael and his lackeys are gathering this morning. If they see us?—”
“I want them to see us.” Wrythe’s smile is cold as frostbite. “They’ll soon understand who holds the reins.”
CHAPTER 46
Ican hardly walk straight. My head spins, and weakness assails my body as Wrythe’s lackeys lead me down the stairs. I’m having a full-blown asthma attack. They’re dragging me, their fingers pressing tightly into my biceps.
“I need my inhaler,” I wheeze.
Wrythe chuckles. “You’ll survive.”
All it took was an inhalation of thetiniestamount of biological agents to trigger my asthma. What would a concentrated dose do to a Fey?
“Am I infected?” I ask weakly. “Is this Feybane?”
“Yes, I believe you are,” Wrythe says. “Not a very strong viral load, I’m afraid, but you have been mildly affected, yes. You will recover from it, but of course, we have other ways to end your life.”
The only mercy right now is that little note I read. Demi-Fey can contract it but not spread it.
Wrythe sighs loudly. “And the Feybane has, of course, revealed who you are without your magic. Weak. Falling apart. Defective. Unable to breathe.”
What would happen when they unleashed a deadly virus targeting a weakened population?
I feel my airways narrow to a pinhole as I think of all the people I’ve met in Brocéliande. Aisling. Griflet. The unknown resistance members who were genuinely trying to help us. The demi-Fey kids in the Blue Dragon compound—that little blonde girl with curls who slept clutching her blanket.
I think of the Fey kids by the river in the countryside with their snowy mittens and rosy cheeks, and the one with a big gap where her baby teeth had fallen out.
I think of Talan murmuring,You looked like dawn.
And now they’re all going to die.
And it won’t stop there, of course. There are Fey in France and all over the UK who would spread it. Demi-Fey in our world will catch it, too. We’ll all die. There’s no controlling a weapon like this.
I have to do something. I have to let people know.
My mind is a whirlwind as Wrythe drags me through the halls of Avalon Tower.
Does he think he can stop me from telling everyone the moment I see them? The demi-Fey here have to stop him, and the humans, too. Not all of them are part of the Iron Legion. Not all of them are bloodthirsty for Fey deaths.
We’re approaching the stairwell that Tana was watching. I don’t see her, a good sign. Maybe she ran for help.
“Sir Wrythe,” Genivieve says, “we can take her back through the Pendragon quarters directly to our private interrogation facility. There’s no reason to do this publicly. It might cause chaos.”
“We don’t do things in the shadows anymore,” Wrythe says. “Cadets and knights have no right to curtail a Seneschal’s legitimate power. We need them to be afraid of the consequences. They will learn to comply.”
“But she can tell them about the biological agent.”
Wrythe scoffs. “Let her.”
My jaw clenches. Good. His confidence will be his weakness.
If there was ever a time to overthrow Pendragon control of Camelot, it’s now.
But the route we take to the bottom of the Merlin’s Tower is strange. Wrythe doesn’t lead us directly to the main doors. Instead, he makes his way through various shortcuts, as if he’s trying to avoid any scrutiny. Is he going to sneak me out and into the interrogation chambers after all?
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