Page 140 of Under Arthur’s Protection

A guard reached over and did. Rick’s mouth was at my ear, but every word was for Arthur. “Your girlfriend’s up against the wall now, Arthur. She’s not moving until you back the fuck off.”

The speaker gave him nothing. The silence was worse than any response, and he must have known it. He let go of my hair and braced an arm across my collarbone. His breath came fast and sour. “Tell him to back down.”

What had he been like before Arthur? Had he been a leader worth following? A decent operator, at least, before Arthur’s father turned him into this? His ego had eaten him down to the bone.

Ego?

Isn’t that your issue, too, Gwen?

I didn’t have an ego. I was simply trying to prove myself. Regain my⁠—

Wait. Had I forced Arthur to take me to Tintagel because my ego was controlling everything? Was he storming this estate because I’d needed the whole world to know Lionel was wrong and that I was an excellent scholar?

Arthur’s voice came through the security system. “Let’s load up another charge.”

Rick pressed harder. Leaned closer.

I had to let go of the thing Rick couldn’t.

“Maybe the email doesn’t scare you.” I spoke past Rick to the old man. “But the FBI should. They seized your sword at a black market auction. They already have my photos of it, including the inscription and the symbol. If it doesn’t go back to them, it will be broadcast on every stolen-art database, every Interpol circular. Art investigators and provenance researchers track those things down for sport. Every hunt ends at your door. Forever.”

Rick’s arm tightened.

I coughed, the pressure on my windpipe making it difficult to breathe. But I forced my words out. “Or the sword walks out of here with me tonight. I’ll finish my documentation for the FBI and attribute the blade based on the sketch from the Troyes archive. No one will ever question the sword’s origin. It’ll stay hidden in plain sight.”

Which had apparently been the Custodians’ method for seven hundred years.

“And if you change your mind later and go public, Dr. Lyons?” the old man said.

I turned my head toward the rabid dog holding me against the door. “I expect you’ll send Rick after me.”

The old man studied the monitors for a long moment, as my heart beat faster and faster, and Rick’s arm pressed harder and harder. One of the monitors showed a man applying more explosives to the wall. Arthur stood next to him, as calm as though this were any other job.

“You’ve spent years chasing people away from this place,” I wheezed to Dr. Hopkins, bile rising up my throat as I offered everything to him. “I’ll become your tool, in exchange for my freedom. I’ll delete the email and use the sketch you handed me at the archive.”

Dr. Hopkins frowned and glanced at the monitors. “She’s right.”

“You can’t honestly be considering this,” Rick said, turning toward them and easing the pressure on my neck. “She’s bluffing, and you’re handing them the only thing⁠—”

“Let her go.” The old man didn’t raise his voice. “Someone fetch the sword.”

Rick’s arm came off me as if the words had cut it loose. For all his bluster, he ultimately answered to these men.

Dr. Hopkins gestured to one of the guards, who opened the channel to the men outside. “If we let her out, you’ll leave us be?”

“We will,” said Arthur.

A guard carried the black case out of the back room. Dr. Hopkins opened it so I could verify it. I stared at the sword as the steel door groaned open. More dust fell from the ceiling. Would they really have blasted the whole way through?

Rick barged in front of me and closed the case before I’d finished. “I can’t believe you’re letting her⁠—”

Four big guns pointed through the doorway, but nobody fired. Arthur stood ahead of the others, eyes and gun trained on Rick. I wanted to run to him, wrap my arms around him, and never let go. But he ordered, “Gwen. Get behind me.”

I reached for the case, but Rick took it from Hopkins first. “How do we know she won’t⁠—”

“Don’t be stupid,” said the old man.

The skin pinched around Rick’s eyes, and he held the case in my direction. I closed my hand around the handle.