Page 56 of The Faerie Handmaid

Idhri cut in. “You let someone take Braithe out of the chamber! Where were you?”

Umer’s mouth worked, but only a little grunt of frustration emerged. Morgana, tired and afraid and at the end of her patience, snapped, “Just go, Umer! Leave us.”

The overseer’s throat flexed as he swallowed. “Priestess, I—I don’t know what happened—”

Morgana blew out an irritated breath. “Never mind. Unless you know where my handmaid is, you are of no use to me. We will say no more about it. Go.”

Umer, his face reddening with relief, backed through the door so quickly he lost his balance. He gave a little moan as he banged his shoulder into the doorjamb. Something metallic fell from his pocket to the floor of the hallway, but in his eagerness to escape, he took no notice. He recovered his balance and hurried down the step. Morgana spoke the cantrip, and the door swung shut before he reached the street.

“What is that?” Idhri said, pointing to something lying on the floor.

Rosy morning light had begun to glow beyond the windows, easing the gloom in the hall. The thing that had fallen from Umer’s pocket sparkled faintly, the dull shine of old pewter. It was the amulet. Braithe’s charm. Morgana recognized it even before Idhri pounced to scoop it up. He held it out on his palm, the broken thong that had held it dangling free.

“How did she lose it?” he asked.

Morgana took it and held it in her fist, close to her heart. “I cannot say.” Her chest tightened. It was good to know it was not her charm that had failed, but it left them no closer to finding the one it had been meant to protect.

Morgana made herself go to the kitchen, where food trays had been left, and eat something. Idhri came out of his room while she was drinking a cup of tea. He had discarded his servant’s clothes and dressed in his own tunic and leggings, his hair hanging over his shoulder in its usual braid. He looked hollow-eyed and tense, and she could guess he had slept no better than she had.

She gestured to the food trays. “Sit and eat, Idhri.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Nor was I, but I ate a hen’s egg and some cheese. You should do the same. It will be a long day, I fear.”

“It feels like we’re in a war,” he said, sinking into a chair. “As if today we go into battle, the way the knights of Camulod do.”

“I have no comfort to offer,” she said. “But with the Lady’s help, we will find Braithe very soon.”

“Emma was always asking the Lady for help,” he said, accepting the egg she handed him.

“We seek help however we can,” Morgana said. It was a weak statement, and she hastened to amend it. “I have received the Lady’s grace many times, Idhri. We must trust this will be one of those times.”

She watched him sprinkle salt from the dish onto the egg and take a determined bite. When he had swallowed, he said, “I keep telling myself Braithe is brave and clever.”

“She is both those things.”

“But this fae man—he must be one of the ones we were looking for. The ones magicking King Mordred.”

“That is true.” Morgana set her cup down, and though she had cut a slice of bread, she set it down without tasting it. “I would guess that she sensed him in the chamber, and he knew it.”

“She has magic, like you,” Idhri said.

“Perhaps not quite like me. Hers is unique, just as she is. She is still discovering her abilities.”

“Maybe her magic will protect her,” he said hopefully.

Morgana had to look away. She knew little of boys, but this one seemed particularly sweet, and certainly—surprisingly, since he had known her such a short time—devoted to Braithe. She judged it better, for his sake, not to speak her own fear aloud. The fae man they sought had magic she could only guess at, and dark magic was not subject to principle.

If they were right, and he was one of those setting obstacles in the boy king’s path, he was both powerful and without conscience. He and his accomplices had sent a changeling to betray Arthur and now were putting all the people of Lloegyr at risk. They would feel no compunction about destroying one more.

Morgana’s stomach roiled, rebelling against food. She gave up and rose from her chair. “Eat as much as you can, Idhri, then wrap up what is left and bring it with you.”

Obediently, he thrust a slice of cheese in his mouth, stood up while he was still chewing, and reached for a napkin to wrap the remaining cheese and bread. When he was done, he thrust the little packet into the pocket of his leggings. “Ready,” he said.

“I am ready, too.” Morgana touched her sigil. “By the Lady’s hand, my young warrior, we will win this battle.”

He nodded, and quoted Emma. “May it be so.”