Page 101 of Under Arthur’s Protection

“You want to go back to the cottage?”

“Yeah.”

Lance laughed, a dry, skeptical sound. “The cottage Rick probably knows about?”

“I’ll talk it over with Merlin, but I’m thinking we have him coordinate our transport. He’s arranged for a new car for me, so we’ll take the ferry back. You’ll fly to an airstrip farther east of Cornwall than last time. He’ll get you a car, and you can take the back roads.”

“And hope no one notices?”

“We’ll do it like our winter trip. No one ever figured out we were there.”

Gwen opened her laptop at the table and began typing. Thankfully, she’d had her power supply in the messenger bag when we went to the archive.

“That was a weekend getaway, Arthur. Not an op. If someone found us⁠—”

“The cottage has full security coverage, and I’ve spun it up remotely. We’ll see anyone coming. And there’s kit in the safe room.”

“Your father’s apocalypse bunker?”

My father’s insurance company had insisted on the safe room. If the police ever stopped by and wanted a tour, though, the quantity of firearms alone would have meant hell to pay. “Yeah, that one.”

“Jesus.” Lance exhaled. “This is the best option?”

“They’re coming after us. Rick said they want the sword and Gwen’s research.”

“So give it to them?”

Gwen’s typing slowed. She was listening. How could I explain the calculus to Lance without scaring the shit out of her?

Fortunately, my silence was all he needed to figure it out. “Her research is in her head. The only way to completely eliminate the research is to eliminate her?”

And that was the other part of the equation. What if they followed her across the ocean? What if nowhere was safe for her? What if heading toward the danger was the wisest choice in the end? “The cottage is the safest location we have access to. Anywhere else, we’re exposed and unfamiliar with the terrain. At the cottage, I know every approach, every exit, every blind spot. You know them too. Plus, if things turn to shit, we do have the safe room.”

“Are we calling anyone else in?”

“Merlin’s sure he can get Morganna digging into Rick’s connections, so we can figure out what we’re facing. I’ll loop him in once we’re moving. Aim for tonight. Drive in after dark.”

At the table, Gwen stopped typing and glanced at me. If she’d wanted to talk to Lance, she would have pressed. But no, she was waiting for me to get off the phone so she could talk to me. If I was lucky, she wanted to discuss the email she was drafting. If I wasn’t—and I hadn’t found much luck over the last few days—she wanted to talk about last night.

“How are things on your end?” I asked Lance. “Geneva treating you well?”

“Treating me? I got here after ten last night, after fleeing Malta and that gorgeous translator. She was flirting with me, by the way.”

“So not well?”

“I’ve spent more time with our flight crew than doing anything useful.”

“Could be worse?”

“It could be. I could have Rick Younge kicking the shit out of me.”

I rolled my eyes at him, because even though he wasn’t in the room with me, he’d expect it. “It wasn’t the shit.”

He chuckled. “Are you making small talk or is there something else you need to say?”

“I’m asking about your trip.”

“You never ask about my trip.”