Eight Lights had entered the London Blast Zone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
At dinner, talk was sporadic. Everyone at the table was thinking about the next day and what would happen. Ron was still irritated with Ava and wouldn’t look her in the eye. Even the normally garrulous King Edward was quiet. It was clear from something he said earlier that he had seen the interview on Zhang’s show and found it disturbing.
The soup course was served—a lovely beef consommé that smelled delicious. Ron looked disappointed, and Ava supposed he was pining for some sort of meatier fare. Just as he touched his spoon to the broth, she felt the most awful burning sensation from her mouth, down her throat, to her stomach. “Don’t eat it!” she shouted.
“Put your spoon down!” Harper cried.
Falke shoved his bowl away immediately, eyes wide.
“What?” Ron said, dropping the spoon.
King Edward sat with his spoon full of soup poised near his lips. “Whatever is the matter?”
“Poison,” Ava whispered.
The king carefully lowered his spoon into the bowl and slid it away from himself.
They all jumped at the sound of a woman shrieking in the kitchen.
Ron got up quickly, tipping over his chair, and ran to the other room. Harper, Ava, the king, and Falke followed close behind. The kitchen staff was gathered around the table. The head butler was face down, unmoving.
“Did he have the soup?” Ava asked.
“Yes,” the white-faced cook replied. “He was the first to have it. He said he thought the taste was off a bit and worried you folks might not care for it. Then he just…dropped.”
Ron went over and felt the man’s neck. “Dead.”
“Morgaine’s people?” Harper asked.
“Has to be,” Ava said.
“Did any of the staff leave before or during dinner service?” Harper asked.
“Well, Mavis had to go home about fifteen minutes ago. She got a call that her mother was taken ill,” said the maid. “You don’t think Mavis…” She clapped her hand over her mouth.
One of the two guards who patrolled the castle came running in. “What’s the commotion?”
Ron explained what happened. The under-butler retrieved all the information about Mavis from the employment files. It was surprisingly scarce, considering for whom she worked. Mavis Little had only been working at the castle for a month. The guard relayed her address to his station, although they all agreed the information was probably bogus.
There was the scream of sirens of the investigating police and ambulance coming up the drive.
“I thought we got all of Morgaine’s people,” Falke said.
“I’d hoped. Apparently not,” Ava said.
“What are you talking about?” King Edward demanded. “Are you saying someone’s been trying to kill you, and you’ve not said anything about it?”
The guard stopped what he was doing. “Is that true?”
“We’ve been attacked before,” Ron said. He explained about the Cult of Hela—although not the supernatural aspects or Morgaine’s connection, or the attack on the Paterovs. “I imagine you can find Mavis Little’s probable-associates in Bridgewater’s jail,” he finished.
Soon, the kitchen was filled with the police and their evidence-gathering drones. King Edward, Harper, Falke, Ron, and Ava were led into the sitting room. Then each of them was taken to a separate room to be interviewed.
The constable who interrogated Ava seemed very disturbed by her story. “Please tell me again how you knew the soup was likely poisoned?”
Ava regretted mentioning her presentment that told her the soup was deadly. Of course, it sounded suspicious. This must be an effect of my tie to Ron. Ordinarily, I would have come up with a plausible story that skips my abilities. “I’m psychic. I realize that isn’t an answer that fits well with your perception of reality, but there it is. I had a strong feeling the soup was poisoned the moment Lord Steadbye placed his spoon in the consommé.” The lights from the recording drone were bothering her eyes. She was having trouble looking directly at the policewoman.
“What kind of feeling?” asked the officer, whose name badge identified her as Investigation Officer Singh.
Ava described it. “I immediately warned everyone not to eat it.”
Officer Singh made some notes. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I think I’m going to have to take you down to station house. We’ll have to look into this further.”
Should I tell her that will be a problem since we’re expected to heal Britain tomorrow? I’m guessing it won’t be a good idea. “I see. Well, you must do what you think is right.”
“I’m afraid I’m also going to have to handcuff you,” Officer Singh said.
Another officer came in and made Ava stand. They put plastic strapping on her wrists behind her back. I’ve truly messed this up, Sisters. I’m sorry, she told her mental journal.
The constables led her through the sitting room where the others had gathered.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ron demanded.
“Is that really necessary?” King Edward asked.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Officer Singh said with a slight bow. “We need to take Ms. Cerdwen in for questioning.”
“Ava, what did you say?” Harper asked.
“I told the truth for once. I always knew it was a bad idea.” Ava had to laugh a little. It seemed hilarious to get so close and fail because she suddenly couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“About what?” Ron asked.
“About the sending I had that the soup was poisoned.”
The officer pushed Ava toward the door.
“I felt it, too,” Harper said.
“And me,” Falke said.
“You’ll have to arrest us all if having a psychic presentiment is now against the law,” Harper said.
“Is that what happened?” King Edward asked. Ava nodded. He turned to the police. “You’re going to arrest this woman for saving our lives? I shall call the Prime Minister at once. This is nonsense. Let go of Ms. Cerdwen this instant!” He pulled out an old-fashioned cell phone and started to peck at the numbers.
Officer Singh cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware several people had this...feeling.” She nodded to her companion, who took off the strapping at Ava’s wrists. “Do stay close to the castle the next few days, in case we need to question you, though.”
Ron barked a laugh that was just short of a shout. “Officer, have you not checked the news in a while?”
“Well, I…” Officer Singh said.
“You have no idea what you almost stopped!” Ron said.
Ava could tell he was going to let her have a real tongue lashing. Rubbing her wrists, Ava said, “Ron, the officer is doing her job. There’s been a murder here, and the king’s life was endangered. I’m sure she’ll be updated later.”
Ron took a deep breath and put out his hand. Ava took it and let him assist her to a chair. “Officer, please go find this Mavis Little. We’ll let you know if we discover anything here worthy of your attention.”
Officer Singh looked unhappy, but bowed and left with most of the other police.
“I told you I get in trouble every time I tell the truth to people,” Ava said.
“Hell of a time to choose to tell it, my dear,” Harper said. “That was a near thing.”
“But what did you feel?” King Edward asked.
Ava explained about the burning sensation. “I shouted the warning before I’d quite processed what it was about.”
“It was like there was an adder coiled up in the bowl,” Falke said.
“I heard ‘Danger! Don’t let him eat that!’ in my mind,” Harper said.
“How extraordinary!” the king said. “That was a timely warning.”
“It happened just as you put the spoon into the broth,” Ava explained to Ron. “I wonder if it has to do with Excalibur. You’ll recall I told you about the s
pell against poison Merlin wove into the scabbard. I thought the sword had to be present to protect you, but apparently just being the owner is sufficient to alert any adepts in the near proximity.”
“What has Excalibur to do with it?” the king asked.
Harper said, “As you know, Your Majesty, one of the articles our families have preserved was King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur. There are spells woven into the scabbard by Merlin himself. So, it would appear it protected Ron, even though it’s several miles away.”
“I wouldn’t let them keep Excalibur from you ever again,” King Edward said. “That seems like mighty important protection, separate from being a treasured artifact. I expect they’ll try and stuff it in a museum. Don’t let them. That’s the good of being king!”
Ron said, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll ask that they let me hang on to it.”
The king said, “We both know who the real king is... and it isn’t me! Especially not after tomorrow.”
“As you say,” Ron said with a head bow.
“I dare say, I’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’m taking the claret and heading to bed. But I wish you all the very best of luck tomorrow. God go with you,” he said. He shook everyone’s hand—even Falke’s—then went up to bed.
Ron fetched the other bottle of wine and poured a glass for everyone. Falke begged off, saying his stomach was upset. He headed to bed.
Once he left the room, Ron said, “Interesting time to pick to tell the truth.”
“I must be more tired than I thought,” Ava said, taking the glass from him. I’ll talk to him later about the changes I’m experiencing after our love-bind last night. I have the feeling Ron is a little closer to his emotions, too.
“No instructions from the Goddess to follow?” Harper snarled.
Ava smiled wanly at him. “No, I guess not.”
“Ava, what don’t we know yet?” Ron said, sitting beside her. He was making an effort not to be angry.
“There’s very little I haven’t told you already. The rest is just things that pop into my head. I’m beginning to see the pattern, all the ‘outs’ the Goddess has left Herself. If that qualifies as hiding things from you, well, they’re also being hidden from me. I’m telling you as I see them.”
“On an international broadcast wasn’t the time,” Ron said tersely.
I’d really like to find that deserted island. And be on it all alone. “It had to be said right then, to the entire audience, Ron. Your people have to see the consequences, the reason this is being done. They have to understand that what we’re about to do isn’t for our glory, but for their salvation. If we fail, then they must believe there’s reason to continue on. If we succeed, they’ll know you—King Arthur reborn—put himself in great danger to be of service.” Ava could see that much of the plan. The fact that so much of it assumed she would fail depressed her beyond words.
There was a long silence.
“I do rather feel like a puppet,” Harper said.
“What about puppets?” Ron asked
Ava told him what she had said to Harper earlier. “I’m just a puppet with a slightly better view of the Puppeteer. Or at least, Her script.” She stared into the fire. For the first time in forty-eight hours, she was feeling the suffocating pressure of a panic attack. Sweat was dotting her spine, and her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed boiling oil. “I’ll remind you that, of the three of us, it’s clear I’m the disposable one.”
“No!” Ron objected, gripping her hand. “That’s not true.”
Ava felt dead inside. I’ve failed, and I haven’t even gotten to the race. “That’s not my judgment, it’s the Goddess’.”
Ron held her in his arms. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
Harper was watching her over Ron’s shoulder. “And I will do everything I can to defend you, Ava.”
She closed her eyes.
It won’t be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Midsummer Day
Ava was lying in the dark, in Ron’s arms, thinking about what the day would bring, and whether she was up to the task of defeating Morgaine.
I don’t know.
I just don’t know.
She realized by his breathing that Ron wasn’t any more asleep than she was. “I wonder if they have a squash court or bowling alley?” she asked.
“I’d kill for a treadmill right now,” he said. They laughed. “I’m never going to get any sleep.”
“Nor me.” Sitting up, she turned on the light. “Let’s go down to the kitchen and see if they’ve any tea or something.”
They dressed and went downstairs. The lights were already on, and they could hear voices. As they entered, Falke said, “I wondered if you could actually sleep.”
“Tea?” Harper asked.
“Regular?”
“Herbal,” Harper said. “I’d be able to flap my arms and fly to the Moon if I had any caffeine.”
Ava chuckled. “I know what you mean.” Harper poured a cup for Ron and her. “You’ve checked everything for residual poison? Or did our new pal Mavis only do the soup?”
Harper said, “Falke and I have been all over the room. The police took away the pot with the consommé in it. Nothing else seems contaminated.”
“Do you know if they have an exercise room here?” Ron asked.
“I’ve explored every room,” Falke said. “Haven’t seen one. Cool old castle, though.”
“I don’t suppose the current king is much into fitness,” Ava said.
Ron sighed. “Damn. I really need to work off these jitters. I may have to go for a run in the rain.”
“No,” Harper said firmly. “Sorry, but with the Helaites still out there, we can’t risk you getting hit by a car, or whatever else they might do on the eve of the Healing. It would be very inconvenient.”
Falke snickered at the understatement.
“Not a lot of people on the road at three in the morning, even in normal times,” Ron argued.
“We have to assume Morgaine’s people are watching for just this sort of chance,” Harper said. “I’m asking you not to, please.”
“Not yet a king, and already hemmed in by responsibility and rules,” Ron said with a jocular tone. But the skin beside his eyes looked drawn.
“What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?” Falke asked Ava.
Interesting. He’s taken a read of the room, and he’s trying to defuse the tension. Ava put down her cup. “The scariest thing?” She blew out a breath. How can it help to share this? I asked Falke not to talk about my anxiety problems, but maybe telling Harper and Ron this particular key secret of mine is the right thing. “I mentioned that my boyfriend was killed in a climbing accident last year. What I didn’t say was that I was there.”
“What?” Ron said, taking her hand. “How awful. Were you hurt?”
Ava told them how it had happened, how she watched the rope snap and Helmut’s eyes as he realized his doom. How she became entangled in the line and was trapped like a fly in a web for hours with only Helmut’s dead body far below as company. “That moment changed me. I’ve never been the same or looked at life the same.”
It felt as if someone had stuffed wads of cotton into Ava’s lungs, and she was going to suffocate right in front of them. A line of sweat ran down her spine. Her skin was both hot and cold. She wanted to curl up on the floor in a fetal ball. The urge to whimper grew in the back of her throat.
Ron held her tightly.
And the sensations disappeared.
Ava looked up at him in wonder. There was so much compassion and love in his eyes. She wasn’t even sure how she deserved this gift.
But she was not afraid.
Harper said, “When I lost Serena and Freya…there I was, stuck at the top of that cliff, bleeding. Watching the car burn. I felt so damned helpless. And there was this…well, odd sort of noise, like chanting, all around me.”
Ava realized that the moaning of the wi
nd while she was stuck on the Eiger wasn’t a natural sound. It had to have been Morgaine and her women chanting, creating a spell to hurt her, just as they had when Harper lost his wife and daughter.
Harper fell silent, and none of them spoke. Finally he whispered, “I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that I should have died in that accident with them.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Falke said and hugged his dad. Harper returned the embrace.
Ron let Ava go, but kept hold of her hand.
“Survivor’s guilt. That’s what the psychologists and healers all called it.” Ava shrugged. “Having a name for it doesn’t really help anything.”
“I know that feeling,” Ron said quietly.
“How so?” she asked.
“We were in the Pamir Mountain Range, in Uzbekistan. It was a pretty fierce firefight. We’d been lucky up to then, hardly seen any action, and what flak we’d been in we could take care of. But not this time. It was, as the Americans soldiers called it, a ‘shit storm,’” he began in a rush, as though if he didn’t hurry to say the words, they’d never come out. “The rebels had us from several different directions—bullets and artillery were coming in from several sides.
“Funny you should mention that chanting noise, Harper. Because I just now remembered I heard something similar when the bullets started. Then, Tommy—Lance Corporal Usining—was hit, and we all knew he was dead before he struck the ground. It wasn’t a question of if we were going to die, just when.” There were beads of sweat at his hairline, and his heart was hammering.
Ron was having a panic attack.
“That must have been terrifying,” Harper said quietly.
Ron smiled thinly. “Actually, I was curiously elated.”
Ava could feel how he was struggling so hard to get through this. “How so?” she asked.
The Midsummer Wife (The Heirs to Camelot Book 1) Page 24
