“Oh,” I mutter, panic starting to prickle me. “Oh… no… crap!”
“Don’t worry.” Guinevere grabs my arm to calm me. “It doesn’t matter if you didn’t know.”
“I wish I didn’t even have to come here,” I say with agony.
Guinevere’s brows furrow with concern as she looks at me. “You want to get cider? Just enjoy the night, okay? Nobody cares what color you wear.”
She leads me to the table of ciders, informing me that I missed King Uther’s opening speech. I grab a goblet of cider and sip on juice so sweet it’s dizzying. As Guinevere chats about her latest episode healing rats and how Camelot is still testing her magic, I notice she isn’t wearing a badge like everyone else.
“Didn’t you get an assignment?” I interrupt, motioning toward where her badge should be.
“Not yet,” she sighs. “I’m the only one. I’m just a lab rat for now. I’m so anxious to heal people and be more useful to the world.”
Despite her cheeriness, she, too, is yearning for a certain role. I should put on a brave and hopeful smile like her. The problem is it doesn’t come naturally to me.
“It’ll happen,” I assure her. “It has to.”
“What about your badge?” she asks.
“Oh,” I say. “I think Sir Lancelot will give it to me on Monday, after I complete orientation and stuff. I’m kind of behind.”
A trumpet sounds. The crowd hushes and the waiters pause. Everyone faces the podium in preparation for the ceremony. Prince Arthur enters the room. He is so heavily guarded by knights that I can only see the top of his dusty-brown hair. He stands in the very center front of the stage, where he will see his Maven accept his new role. Next, a man wearing black, unlike everyone else, enters. Mordred. I cringe that we’re both the wardrobe outliers. The only acknowledgement he gives Merlin is a dark blue tie. He walks up to the stage. Merlin trails behind him, looking stunning in a well-fitted suit. Mordred takes the mic.
“Today we honor our future Maven,” he says, his rich voice resounding through the room. “Merlin Ambrosius, Maven to the future king, Arthur Pendragon.”
Everyone cheers and claps. Mordred then launches into a long speech before finally handing Merlin the Maven Badge, which Merlin dutifully fastens to his suit. Though I am too far away to see the details, I know that the badge has the symbol of a lantern on it. I figured I couldn’t feel any emptier, because it’s impossible for something that’s hollow to be hollower. But that’s how I feel, like the eye of the storm that’s getting wider. Despite my sadness, I don’t quite feel the will to vanish. I’m hesitant to leave everything behind, especially with my friend standing next to me—the only one who truly befriended me from the beginning of Arthur’s Round.
“This next item,” Mordred says to Merlin, handing him a silver vial, “is for your journey to Avalon. The Sword Scroll.”
I flinch. Sword Scroll? I recall Vivian talking about a scroll on the phone.
“What is that?” I whisper to Guinevere.
“I think that’s the guide to help Merlin find Avalon,” she replies.
“Yeah, I got that part, but what is it, exactly? Does it have like a drawn map to Excalibur or something?”
Guinevere shrugs helplessly and looks a bit disturbed by my aggressive curiosity.
I push my bangs back in dismay and stare at the tiny vial in Merlin’s hand. It’s about the size of his index finger. I’ve never known of its existence until now, but I desire it badly as if I’ve wanted it all my life. To know what’s written inside. And why does Vivian plan to copy the scroll?
I eye Vivian in the distance. While clapping, she wears her trademark catlike smile of satisfaction.
Vivian also knew of Ganeida’s attack. During our Outdoor Survival test, she had a mysterious conversation with Merlin as if she’s involved with the Luminaries, though her connection to them isn’t clear.
The cylinder disappears into the pocket of Merlin’s blazer as he puts it away and bows.
Next, Mordred hands him a grail full of water, and Merlin holds it up. “I pledge to be the light that illuminates the future King Arthur’s path,” he says, reciting the standard Maven motto.
Everyone breaks into applause, punctuated by the sound of champagne bottles popping. Music begins to play. In the corner, Vivian is playing the violin, and Isolde is by her side with a harp. Chatter buzzes once more. Merlin disappears into the blue-hued crowd as people begin dancing. My heart races as I try to look for Merlin. Fear and bravery collide inside of me, one trying to conquer the other. As I stare, I realize Guinevere is talking to me.
I hold a hand up to Guinevere. “One sec. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Guinevere asks worriedly.
“I’d like to congratulate Merlin,” I say.
Guinevere widens her eyes. “Oh, I see,” she says politely. “Great idea.”
As I walk away, adrenaline runs through me. My dress blazes behind me like fire as I march toward him. The crowd parts for me as if I’m electric.
If Vivian is a Luminary, she will have the Scroll copied for them. They will be able to find Prince Arthur in the forest with Merlin. This has to be the truth. There’s no other reason why Vivian would copy it and “hand deliver” it behind Merlin’s back.
I pass Vivian, who eyes me coldly over her violin. Over the strap of her dress, her badge shines. A symbol of an open book is on the circular surface—the symbol of the Relic Keeper.
I take a breath and focus on Merlin. He stands in the middle of a crowd and is talking to a Relic Keeper. Squeezing past people, I approach him. When he sees me he does a double take before settling on a questioning and wary look.
“Congratulations,” I say, extending my hand.
Everyone stares at us. Some begin to whisper amongst themselves. The Relic Keeper walks away. Merlin does not seem to notice—he is too consumed with staring at my hand as if it’s a knife. Slowly, he takes it. I keep a tight grip so he can’t pull away.
“Thank you,” Merlin says, barely audible. “I’m overwhelmed.”
He tries to release his hand from my grasp.
I step closer to him and lower my voice. “Everyone is staring. This is humiliating for me. I didn’t see the invite so I didn’t know we were supposed to wear blue.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I thought you’d like to know that I decided to take your advice.”
Merlin blinks in surprise before giving me the smallest smile of relief, understanding my meaning. “I’m glad.”
“So let’s say good-bye.” I step away, still holding his hand, and curtsy. “Please put on a show of peace. Dance with me. It’s not true what you said, about me not liking you.”
Merlin hesitates before nodding weakly. He’s shaky as he guides me into a dance. Everyone watches us with interest, especially Vivian as she continues to play her violin.
Somehow, I must take the Scroll from him.
“Still uneasy?” I ask.
Merlin winces and then sighs. “You said all those nice things earlier, but your energy is aggressive. I feel your fire magic through your hand.”
My brow twitches. “So? Isn’t it what you do as well? Hide feelings under nice words?”
“You’re still angry.”
My dancing becomes more mechanical as frustration sets in. He sure knows how to ruin the amicable mood. Regardless, I must try to be civil.
“Look, none of this,” I say as I gesture to the badge on his chest, “matters to me right now. I overheard something that I thought you should know.”
Merlin tightens his grip on my waist, stepping closer. “What?”
“Vivian said she’s going to copy the Scroll. I assume it’s the Scroll you just received.”
Merlin squints at me. “Uh, and how would you overhear something like that?”
“I was getting some fresh air on the balcony and she walked near me while talking on the
phone. She didn’t know I was there.”
“Vivian would never copy the Scroll for the Luminaries if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Ah, so you don’t believe me.”
“I think you’re misunderstanding what you heard.”
I sigh. “Humor me and hide the Scroll.”
“I can’t,” Merlin says. “It’s not like I get to take the Scroll home or something. I have to keep it in the Relic Keepers’ safe.”
“Well, Vivian is a Relic Keeper.”
“She can’t access the safe.”
“She must plan to take it from you before you put it in the safe. I can protect the Scroll for you, if you give it to me.”
Merlin’s hands grow rigid. “I can’t do that. You’d get put in jail for at least a decade if you’re caught with it.”
He twirls me around gently. I face him again. “Can you turn in the Scroll after this dance then?”
“It’s a long night. There’s no way I can slip away. I’ve got to converse with various managers and then go to a press interview.”
At any moment of distraction, the Scroll could easily be stolen from Merlin’s possession. If he wants to keep being an obedient Maven, I will have to be the bad guy. I begin to devise my plan to vanish. Take the Scroll. Leave.
“Do you think we’ll see each other again?” I ask, changing the subject.
Merlin swallows as he studies the crowd. “I’m not sure.”
His grip around my waist becomes firmer. Our dance becomes more organic and natural. I whirl, feeling nauseous realizing what Merlin wanted—this amity. I feel sick for faking it. The violin weeps and soars into a climatic arc, the gentle chorus following it. Merlin whirls me around once more, the crowd blurring in my eyes. I collapse into his chest, nearly losing my footing. A sting of regret bites me as I do the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I kiss him on the lips.
Vivian’s violin catches for a second. His lips are unmoving but are soft and warm as I expected. For a second, I’m frightened and frozen in place, having never been intimate with anybody before. The nervousness causes me to press into him. The room seems to whirl away from me. I cling on to him as if I might fall, and that’s when I remember the Scroll hidden within his pocket, just below my arm. Recalling my mission, I sneak my hand into the pocket of his blazer with lightning speed, clasping on to the Sword Scroll, small enough to engulf entirely with my hand. I hide the Scroll in my pocket, then part from his lips.
“I’m sorry,” I say, unable to look at Merlin.
I don’t have to look at him to know how he feels.
His voice says it all. “Is that your idea of revenge?”
His tone chills me. Does he know what I’ve really done? I have no choice but to act as if I didn’t take the Scroll.
I’m sorry, Merlin.
My heart hammers as I walk away. I avoid looking at the people around me, unable to bear their judging eyes. Our kiss will be what everyone will gossip about over lunch for the next week. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Who cares about what they think? I’ve got to save Arthur.
Shakily, I feel inside the pocket of my dress. I clench my sweaty hand around the Sword Scroll. Whether Merlin let me take it on purpose or by accident, I’ll never know.
Chapter 05
I have no idea what I’m doing. I can imagine that from someone else’s perspective, it may look like I have a death wish and that I’ve totally lost it.
A part of me keeps yelling that it’s crazy that I’m stealing the Scroll and I’ve got to abort before it’s too late. I try to listen to reason that pleads and gnaws at me. The average person wouldn’t take the actions I’ve taken. Maybe I’ve gone this far because I’ve got nothing to lose. Once I accept my resolve, a cold and unfeeling confidence comes over me.
I’ve got to run away now, with the Scroll in hand. As I scan the room to make sure nobody is watching me, I catch sight of the knights standing beneath the stained glass windows. They surround the Prince. As the knights move, I glimpse Arthur yawning and looking bored. Though he’s dressed in a suit, he still looks like a boy—smaller than the average fourteen-year-old—not having gone through his growth spurt yet. The lead bodyguard, Kay, is by Arthur’s side, eyeing everyone around him.
The atmosphere is relaxed as the crowd talks raucously. One tipsy lady drops her wine glass, causing the knights and Kay to look her way. Arthur slips away from the knights and dives under the nearest tablecloth.
As tense as I am, I can’t help but feel a spark of empathy for him. I feel for the Scroll in my pocket. Should I attempt to warn Arthur about his journey? My possession of the Scroll is only putting a minor delay on his journey.
I approach the table I saw him disappear under. Crouching, I lift up a corner of the tablecloth. Prince Arthur looks up at me from his handheld video game. He is lying on his stomach. He widens his eyes with brief fear.
“Oh,” Arthur says with relief. “I thought you were Kay.”
“Are you bored, Prince Arthur?” I ask.
“Why don’t you leave? They’ll find me if you sit there like that. And anyway, you have no right to speak to me.”
“Do you remember me?”
“No.”
“I saved your life.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“What?” I grimace. “Don’t you remember the fire attack from Ganeida and the—”
“No!” Arthur snaps. “Leave now. I told you I’m playing a game.”
He has the personality of a twelve-year-old, no doubt due to his sheltered life. I frown. But more than the immaturity, his denial of a traumatic event bothers me more. If this is how he deals with a stressful situation, he will definitely not be on guard during the quest for Excalibur, whether he touches the sword or not.
“Follow me,” I suggest, trying to maintain calmness. “Let’s go to King’s Hall. It’s roped off right now. Behind the statue of Hector de Maris, nobody will find you. You could play that game for hours.”
I feel creepy for trying to lure him there, but I remind myself that I’m trying to save his life. Perhaps in privacy I could warn him about Mordred and the Luminaries.
Arthur looks at me with pessimism. “Oh yeah? How will we get there? It’s several steps away. What if I hid under your dress?”
Out of instinct, I want to slap him.
A hand claps down on my shoulder. I jump. A tall figure looms over me. Kay.
“Prince Arthur,” Kay calls out. “Come out.”
Arthur climbs out from under the table, slipping his game into the pocket of his blazer.
Kay ignores me and glares at Arthur. “This is the tenth time tonight that you—”
“I just wanted to play my game,” Arthur exclaims. “This lady wants to take me to King’s Hall.”
Shut up! I want to yell at him. Instead I fix a smile on my face. “I love history,” I blurt out. “I wanted to tell him about Hector de Maris and his legendary staff. My father was friends with Hector de Maris so I know a lot of details on his personal—”
“You have no business with royalty!” Kay barks at me. He then turns to Arthur. “If you want to go to King’s Hall, Your Highness, I will take you.”
“Take a break, Kay,” a voice says.
Sir Lancelot stands there in all his High Knight glory, his holstered gun shining at his hip. “I’ll take the Prince to King’s Hall.”
Kay nods obediently and walks away as Lancelot places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur beams up at Lancelot.
“Will you let me play my game there?” Arthur asks.
“Maybe,” Lancelot replies. “If you’ve been good tonight. I see you’ve already wrinkled your shirt.”
Lancelot straightens out Arthur’s suit before he glances at me. “I’ve been watching you, Ms. Le Fay.”
I freeze, tensing my shoulders.
“I saw your dance out there.”
I grit my teeth,
prepared for anything. Did he see me take the Scroll from Merlin? Having Lancelot watching me and guarding Arthur means there’s no chance I can privately converse with Arthur.
Lancelot studies me with amusement playing on his face. “Is that why you dressed up like that?”
Arthur follows his gaze, studying my dress with disapproval.
“Dressed up like what?” I reply carefully.
“You do look nice,” he says, smiling. “I’m glad you showed up, though you are wearing the wrong color. It’s the color everyone would be wearing had you been chosen.”
“Ha-ha,” I reply sarcastically.
“I’m not trying to be an ass,” he whispers to me.
“It’s just that you are,” I say before I can stop myself.
Lancelot grins, amused as usual at my expense.
Arthur looks at us suspiciously before he scowls and steps toward me. “You can’t say that to Lancelot! He’s my High Knight!”
“Hey,” Lancelot says, gripping Arthur’s shoulders. “You’re not king yet. This girl is no threat to me. Look at her. She can barely stand in her heels.”
Arthur smirks and laughs at me.
I glare at Lancelot, which makes Lancelot’s smile wider.
“Let’s go.” Arthur grabs Lancelot’s arm and pulls him toward the roped-off doorway to King’s Hall.
“Okay, okay,” Lancelot says, holding his hands up. He glances back at me before taking a step. “You want to join us, Ms. Le Fay?”
Spending time with Lancelot wasn’t what I was hoping for. But what if this is my only chance of warning Arthur about the dangers ahead?
“Sure,” I say.
From the crowd, Kay watches us as we make our way toward King’s Hall, past the roped gate where it’s dimly lit and armors and crowns glint behind glass cases. We step far down the hall, our steps echoing. The noise from the party grows fainter the farther we go.
“It’s spooky when King’s Hall is closed,” Arthur says with interest. “This place looks better when the lights are off.” He inspects the shadows. “I can play my game now, right?”
Sword Page 4
