To Him
“I’m not sure how much time we have,” I say. “And like you said, I’m
forged from your blood and bones, the daughter of a king. You said I will
crush my enemies. Remember?”
He nods slowly, the sun glinting in his golden eyes. “And what are you
proposing?”
“I don’t know yet. I can’t go back to Camelot. I can’t go to
Brocéliande.”
He takes a step closer, keenly interested. “And yet?”
“I won’t sit here rotting while Wrythe slaughters the Fey. We are their
protectors. You their king, and me their Lady of the Lake.”
He scrubs a hand over his mouth. “Good. Good. Morgan would not sit
idly by, either, but what if you did return to Brocéliande?”
My eyebrows rise. “I tricked the portal guards once, but next time,
they’ll be ready. Talan surely told everyone I’m a spy. They’ll be looking
for me now. They’ll murder me the second I step out of the portal.”
Mordred stares out the window at the lake, thinking deeply. He’s
wearing a dark cape trimmed with lush, black fur that frames his head like a
lion’s mane. “It might interest you to know there are no guards on the ley
portal. No one’s there to kill you.”
I tilt my head, curiosity blooming. “There aren’t? I thought Talan
would’ve made sure I couldn’t come back. Why wouldn’t he guard the
portal?”
He shrugs. “I still have a moth in Brocéliande. I can’t tell you why it’s
unguarded, only that it is.”
“Seriously?” I stare at him, and my heart flutters. “Maybe I can find
what’s left of the resistance. Brados is still there, from The Shadowed
Thicket.”
“Didn’t the resistance nearly kill you?”
“Yes, but now I’m sure that Wrythe gave them the wrong information.
He wants me dead. If I can connect to the resistance, then maybe I can take
