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“That Kaye will conveniently be out of the way. Possibly forever.” I stared at her. “This could not all have taken place in a mere week. You said the guests from Lyonesse were harmed soon after I left.”
Lancelet flushed. “That’s right.”
“So when did you really leave? The truth.”
She met my gaze. “About a month after you did. Less than one week ago.”
I let out a gasp. “How? How is that possible? Did you fly?”
She shook her head, her face pale.
“Then how did you get here, Lancelet?”
“You won’t believe me,” she whispered. “I hardly believe it myself.”
“I know how she did it,” Vesper piped up. His eyes were cool as he studied Lancelet. He set aside his knives and leaned forward, clasping his hands.
“Vesper.” Draven’s voice was like a warning.
“What? You’ve guessed it too, haven’t you?” Vesper demanded.
Draven shook his head. “I’ve read of such things, but it’s not possible.”
“Guessed what?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”
“The arches. You must have passed through them as you followed the fae road,” Vesper said.
I stared. “We passed through them, yes. So what?”
He looked at me curiously. “Did you feel nothing as you passed through them?”
I shook my head impatiently. “They were beautiful. But feel? They were impressive, of course.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Sometimes, part-fae will feel something from the arch as they go through. A vestige of memory, perhaps. A trace of the magic our ancestors once possessed. A sort of buzzing sensation. A hum. You felt nothing?”
“Nothing.” I stared. “Lancelet isn’t part-fae either.”
“No, neither was her horse,” Vesper said mildly.
“Vesper.” Draven’s voice was a growl.
I looked back and forth between them all in horror. “What are you saying?”
“The arches are gates,” Draven said finally, meeting my eyes. “The fae used them to travel vast distances.”
“But they’re not used now,” I said. “How could they be?” Then I thought guiltily of the powers I had displayed in Nethervale. Did they extend so far as this?
“Merlin sent me through one,” Lancelet said.
I shook my head stubbornly. “Impossible. There are no arches in Pendrath.”
“There are, actually,” she said softly. “There’s one inside the Temple of the Three. Underground. Very few have seen it. I came through it six days ago and emerged a two day’s ride from Orin’s Gate.”
I looked wildly at Draven. “I remember no such arch.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “We skirted around it, when we passed through Nethervale. I thought it was for the best.”
I stared at him. Was that because he had worried about how I would react to it, now that the medicine had fully worn off? But he hadn’t seen what I had done in Nethervale. He had been unconscious. Still, my hair, my skin, the markings. I supposed he had erred on the side of caution. I wondered what he was afraid of though. That I would accidentally vanish through the arch?
