Page 71 of Knight of the Sword

“It’s not quite that simple,” the Lady explained. “It seems that the Celtic relics want to be reunited before we use them again. The return-time portal remains locked for now.”

Michael arched a brow. “For how long?”

“Until next Beltane, if the Platter and the Grail can be found by next Beltane, when the cycle will be complete. Merlin will be your host until then.”

Merlin snorted. “What did I ever do—”

“Think of it this way,” Sara said with a mischievous look. “You’ll be getting rid of Nimue for a while.”

As if on cue, the faerie fluttered in from the passageway. She eyed Michael appreciatively and Sophie put her hand on his arm possessively. She didn’t plan to compete with a faerie, even though this one was exquisitely beautiful.

“Don’t worry,” Michael said with a quirky grin. “Nim and I go back a long way as friends.”

“It sounds like you have an awful lot of female friends,” Sophie said.

Lancelot started to laugh, but quickly stopped as Sara shot him a look that said he had no room to talk.

Nimue looked from one man to the other. “Things should get interesting around here soon. I suppose I have to leave, though?”

“I am afraid so,” the Lady said and twisted the ruby pommel of the Sword to reveal a hidden hollow space. She took out a small scrap of paper. “This holds the clue for the Platter,” she said as she gave it to Nimue.

Nimue tucked the paper inside the low neckline of her gossamer silvery-white gown and batted nearly transparent wings. She looked once more from Lancelot to Tristan. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone, will you?” she said with an impish smile and then disappeared.

Sophie eyed Michael. “I think you owe me a long explanation, Tristan.”

This time, Lancelot did laugh. “The bedrooms are down the passage. I find that’s the best place to do any explaining that Sara wants.”

She punched him playfully. “Speaking of which—”

“No need to say more,” Lancelot said and picked her up in his arms and strode away.

Merlin groaned. “Not again. That man has the stamina of a horse.” He looked suspiciously at Michael. “I suppose you do too?”

Michael grinned. “I’d have to, since my mate is descended from Epona.” And then, before Sophie could retort, he pulled her toward him and claimed her mouth with a thorough kiss.