Destined

wasn’t entirely certain that was going to work. After all these years, it’s a bit of a dream come true for me.” Then he cleared his throat and sobered. “We must work fast. The Queen will be here at any moment. Tamani, you’ll want something as well.” Jamison gestured invitingly toward a small selection of shimmering armaments hanging from the eastern wall of the chamber where the now-empty block of granite sat.

“They’re beautiful,” Tamani breathed, so quietly Laurel doubted anyone else had heard. He walked over and hefted a long, double-headed spear; the blades on each end looked razor sharp. It didn’t give Laurel quite the same squicky feeling as she got when she was around guns, but it was close. Tamani turned and balanced the spear in his right hand, lifting it up and down a few times before nodding. “This is a good weight for me,” he said, his voice serious. It was his sentry voice; a sign that he was officially in battle mode. And that frightened Laurel as much as the spear.

“Sir?”

Everyone turned to face David. Despite the unearthly power exuding from him, he looked rather lost. “Yes, David?” Jamison said.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. What do I do?”

Jamison stepped forward to place a hand on David’s shoulder, but it slid away. David gave the hand a puzzled look, and Jamison pulled it back, smiling as though he’d just discovered something wonderful. “Believe me when I say it is as simple as swinging the sword. It will guide you, and make up for any and all of your deficiencies. But like Arthur before you, you must have the courage to step forward and the strength to remain standing.” He paused. “I am asking you to do a hard thing, but it is well within your ability. I promise you that. Now come,” he said, addressing them all again. “We should be going.”

No one spoke as they traversed the upper chambers, descended to the foyer, and passed onto the palace grounds. It was Jamison who finally broke the silence as they reached the white marble archway at the head of the trail.

“If we go back the way we came,” Jamison said, turning to look back at the group, the wind carrying his voice to them, “perhaps we can avoid the Queen altogether.”

“And why would you want to do that, Jamison?” Queen Marion’s voice was soft and simmering as she stepped up to the white archway. Behind her, Laurel could see a long line of green-garbed sentries, their weapons shouldered, mingled with her Am Fear-faire.

Jamison drew up short, his confident posture slipping for the briefest moment before he recomposed himself. “Because you are going to be very angry with me,” Jamison said simply. “And we don’t have time for that.”

Laurel could see the question on the Queen’s lips, but she didn’t ask it, searching each member of the party with her eyes instead. When her gaze fell upon Excalibur her expression betrayed shock. “Jamison, what have you done?”

“What the Silent Ones knew you would not,” Jamison said evenly.

“You must realise the consequences of this.”

“I am aware of what they have been in the past, but I also know that the past need not dictate the present.”

“You will be the death of Avalon one day, Jamison.”

“Only if I stop you from killing her first,” Jamison said, his voice ringing with quiet fury.

The Queen’s eyes flashed anger, then something Laurel thought might be pity. “You are so unbendable,” she said. “Even Cora spoke of how unyielding you are when you set yourself to something. Well, do as you will. But remember that the branch that will not bend is the first to fall before the storm. I refuse to bear any responsibility for your death. Come, Yasmine.”

The young Winter faerie stepped away, taking Jamison’s hands into her own. “I want to stay with you,” she said, determination flashing in her eyes.

But Jamison was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry.” After a glance at Marion, he bent himself close to Yasmine’s ear. “If we were both there to protect you, perhaps. But I do not trust myself to do it alone.”

“You don’t have to,” Yasmine said fiercely. “I can help.”

“I cannot risk your safety,” Jamison said, shaking his head.

“You won’t actually die, will you?” Yasmine asked, looking reproachfully back at the Queen.

“I certainly don’t intend to.”

Yasmine glanced briefly at Laurel and Tamani before lowering her voice. “I can do great things,” she said, so quietly Laurel scarcely heard. “You have told me for years, that I can and will do great things.”

“That is precisely why you must stay here,” Jamison said, lifting one hand to touch her face. “What we go to do now is not great — it is only necessary. It is more important than ever that you remain alive so that you can do those great things. Avalon cannot afford to lose you, or all our efforts will have been in vain, in the very moment they are nearest to blossoming.”

Whether Yasmine understood Jamison’s cryptic speech or not, she nodded her assent, then turned to catch up to Marion, who hadn’t waited for her. Jamison’s eyes tracked the two Winter faeries until they reached the palace and were safely inside with their Am Fear-faire. Only then did he turn back to the group. “Come,” Jamison said, his voice strained as he led them down.

“There are… so many,” Laurel said to Tamani as they trailed Jamison, passing lines of sentries still marching up the path that led to the Winter Palace.

“Two hundred, give or take,” Tamani growled.

“Two hundred?” Laurel exclaimed, her breath catching in her throat. “Does she really need that many?”

“Of course not,” Tamani said.

Laurel hesitated. “Can Avalon spare that many?”

“Of course not,” he repeated, his eyes hollow. “Let’s go.”

He took her hand and together they followed Jamison, David, and Chelsea. Laurel’s feet seemed to move of their own accord as gravity pulled her downhill along the path that led to the Gate Garden. The line of sentries finally ended and soon even their marching footsteps had faded away, leaving only the sounds of breathing and the scuffing of their own footfalls.

Laurel’s head snapped up as the silence was shattered by a piercing blast of gunfire.

“We’re too late,” Tamani growled.

“They’re here?” Laurel asked. It was too soon!

“And they have guns,” David said, his face pale.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jamison said. “We have something better. Perhaps you young ones should run ahead. I’m afraid these old stems are slowing you down.”

The others turned to look at the glittering sword and David’s face paled. But Tamani’s grip tightened on his spear. “Let’s go kill some trolls.”

The four of them ran the rest of the way to the Gate Garden, which was in an uproar. The tops of the walls were lined with sentries wielding bows and slings; others were passing around knives and spears. Most of the sentries seemed to be on the verge of panic, and the whole operation had an air of disorganisation about it.

“The caesafum doesn’t work!” Laurel heard one armoured sentry shouting at a plainly garbed Spring carting a wheelbarrow full of potions. “None of that Mixer stuff works! Get back to Spring and tell them we need more weapons!”

“I—”

But the anonymous fae’s response was drowned out by the roar of crumbling stone some fifteen metres from the entrance to the Garden. Immediately, the cry went up: “Breach in the wall!”

“We’ve got to close that breach,” Tamani said. “The Garden is a secondary choke point, after the gateways. We need to contain the threat until Jamison catches up. David, I want you on point.”

David blinked.

“That means I want you in front. Nothing can hurt you.”

“Are you sure?” David said, his voice shaking on the first word before he steadied it.

Tamani fixed David with a determined look. “I’m sure. Just don’t let go of the sword,” he said seriously. “From what Jamison said, I don’t think anyone can take it from you, or yank it out of your hands. But even so, whatever you do, don’t let go. As long as you have your hands on