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Next Crescent was to return to Myntra and check in on the progress of one of the new arches being built to link the Court of Umbral Flames to the Rose Court.
I had destroyed the one connecting the two temples, but a new one had been built on the rooftop of the Camelot castle. Its companion arch in Noctasia was not yet complete.
There were quite a few stitchers amongst the Siabra. But few were as trustworthy as Crescent. We had some lined up to potentially take up the court position in Lyonesse, but as Lady Marjolijn had rejected all of our offers before this, we hadn’t thought to have any stationed in the castle.
“There should be at least one stitcher working on the arch being built along the road to Tintagel,” Galahad noted. “We could send troops to fetch them immediately, couldn’t we?”
On my other side, Draven nodded. “Mariah. She’s overseeing the work. An excellent stitcher. Reliable.”
“Good,” Lancelet said with relief. “Let’s send for her.”
“We can send for her, yes,” I said. “But we already know what’s happened. Ulpheas took an arrow to the throat. This wasn’t some mere hunting accident.”
The hall became quiet.
I looked around the room. “Tintagel has been attacked. King Mark is besieged. Ulpheas came to warn us, yes, but to also seek our aid.”
Sir Ector was already nodding. “That would make sense.”
Dame Halyna met my eyes. “Things must be in a very bad state already if Ulpheas arrived as he did. The battle must be in full swing.”
I rested my hands on my hips. “Which is why we can’t wait.”
“Leave now?” Lancelet shifted on her feet eagerly. “I’m ready. We take an hour or two to prepare, leave as soon as the sun is up. Gather all the troops we can...”
But I hardly heard her as she continued chattering. I was looking past her to the High Priestess in the pale blue and white robes with the owl on her shoulder.
“Guinevere, what did you see?” I interrupted.
Lancelet stopped talking.
“She was convulsing on the floor when I found her,” Kasie said softly. “A vision, I think.”
Guinevere’s eyes were serene and steady as she gazed back at me. “I saw Brightwind.”
My heart sped up. “So I’m right? They’re under attack.”
She raised a hand to stroke the owl on her shoulder. “Yes. Brightwind will burn unless we come to their aid.”
“Who is attacking them? More raiding parties?” But I thought I already knew the answer. The raiding parties had been a mere preview for what was happening now. My dream—it couldn’t be a mere coincidence. My father had found me. In more ways than one.
Guinevere didn’t reply. She simply looked at me disconcertingly until finally, I looked away first.
“I’m leaving now,” I announced to the rest of the group. “Not in the morning. But now, as soon as I can be ready.” Draven touched my shoulder, and I immediately grasped his hand. “With you, of course, my love, if you’ll go with me.”
If he had been shocked to hear me say I was leaving at once, he showed no sign of it. He simply nodded. “By your side, always.”
“What do you mean ‘now?’” Sir Ector demanded with a frown. “How can you leave? Surely you’re not going to ride down the road to Tintagel alone, Morgan. You need support. It will take time to gather our soldiers. And as we’ve already determined, there is no stitcher nearby.”
“Draven and I don’t need to stitch,” I reminded him. “Not when we can fly.”
There was a murmur amongst our friends.
Sir Ector’s dark face flushed. “That’s asinine. If something should happen to your brother, why, Morgan, you’re our only...”
“Your what?” I shot back.
The noble knight shook his head mutely.
