Morgain's Revenge - Laura Anne Gilman [63]
This was dangerous, consorting with the enemy. Justification after justification slid through his mind. He could stay. Win Morgain’s trust. Win Ailis back to them. If he could come back with information useful to Arthur, useful to Merlin, they would overlook other things. Hadn’t Arthur himself decreed that Morgain was not to be killed, because of the shared blood that ran in their veins? Perhaps he could even convince Morgain that it was time to put away her anger, and join her brother’s Court!
Visions of glory raced through his head. Perhaps he could become the youngest squire to ever be knighted. He could eventually earn himself a seat at the Round Table!
That was all he had ever wanted, all he had ever worked for. And if staying here, with Morgain, for a little while, could earn him that…
Some small voice in the back of his head was still protesting. This was wrong. This was some glamour, some magic of Morgain’s twisting his thoughts, confusing him. There was more here that they were supposed to be doing, something that needed to be done now…. Gerard shut that voice out. He was here for Ailis. Ailis was safe. He would bring Ailis home, just a little later than they had planned.
“Enough!”
All four humans jumped at the sound of the new voice. Sir Tawny reacted to the intrusion by posturing for an attack, and ended up stuck halfway in and halfway out of the doorway. His head slammed against the doorjamb and made him let out a yowl of pain that simply added to the clamor and confusion.
Tall, was all Gerard could think. Towering, although the figure in front of them could not have been much more than Morgain’s own height—certainly nowhere near as tall or broad as most of the knights of Camelot. But the heavy gray hooded cape gave an ominous air to the newcomer, an impression only aided by the way Ailis cringed away from it.
“How dare you enter here?” Morgain asked the shadow-figure, standing, almost instinctively, between Ailis and it.
“I dare because you have called it upon yourself, Morgain Le Fay. Or have you forgotten all, in the midst of this foolishness? You brought me here. You fed me. You gave me entry into their lives. And now you waste your time and magic attempting to win over these…playthings.
“There is no more time for distractions. You have wasted enough time with that child, much less allowing two more to clutter the path.”
Gerard felt for where his sword should have been, wishing more than anything for his fingers to close around the comforting coolness of its hilt, to feel the weight of the blade in his hand. Not that it would do him any good. The thing in front of them spoke in a voice like thunder and radiated heat like a white-burning fire. Gerard knew as well as he knew his own name that nothing that looked or sounded like that was going to fall under a simple metal sword.
It was up to Morgain to protect them—or not.
The hooded figure spoke again. “You have important things to do, Morgain Le Fay. Are you still committed to this? Are you still willing to sacrifice for this?”
Morgain stood tall and proud for a long moment, then her shoulders slumped slightly. Her head dipped in acknowledgment of these words.
“Get rid of them,” the figure commanded. “Then come to me. The world turns, and our time has come to act. It is your moment of glory, Morgain. Do not let it pass.”
The figure pivoted and left the room without another word. Morgain turned a gaze gone cold as ice upon them.
TWENTY
The three were quickly taken prisoner by ghostly servants summoned by the imperious snap of Morgain’s fingers. Ailis was allowed to bundle up some of her belongings, but Newt and Gerard were not to help her. Morgain, meanwhile, stood in the middle of the room and watched everything with a cold, distant expression.
When Ailis indicated she had everything she wanted—a book, a small blanket, and a few trinkets—Morgain led the way down the hallway to where they were to be kept until their fate was decided. Morgain’s back was straight and her shoulders squared under her gown, but Newt had the feeling that