Halfway up the tower was a door that led to a walkway on top of a connecting wall. Fumbling in the darkness, I found that door. I opened it.

My chamber again.

It could not be. The door led through the outer wall of the tower.

Pressing against my legs, Gull shivered and whined as if she heard thunder.

I had not the strength even to pat her. I thought of walking into the chamber, proving it was an illusion, walking through the far wall—but what if I missed the path, what if I stepped out on air? I sank down, sat on the floor and stared.

After a while I struggled up again and made my way back to my chamber.

It was still there.

I let my helm, my sword, and my chain mail fall to the floor. In my fine new clothing I lay in the bed, but although I felt weary enough to die, I could not sleep.

First light dawned, then full light, then sunrise, and I lay there. A servant came and told me, “My lady requests the favor of your company at breakfast, Sir Mordred.”

The servant led the way; I followed. This time the doorways led to Morgan le Fay.

Our small, private table was set up in her solarium. I sat without speaking, and the servant brought what should have been a treat for me: kippered herring. But I did not eat.

“So, Mordred,” said Morgan le Fay, as plump and cheery as a sparrow, “you are learning.”

I said nothing.

“Such is the nature of fate,” she told me. “You try this way and that way, but you arrive at the same end.”

“Such is the nature of sorcery,” I said, trying to leash the anger in my voice.

“Nay! Not so.” Morgan le Fay rose to stand over me. “There is no mere magic here. This castle is my bones, my self, and I—do you not understand who I am? In druid days they called me The Fate Morgana. Before that, the goddess of doom, Morrigan. Take heed to the things I tell you, son of Morgause. I know of what I speak.”

I sensed by the prickling in my marrow that she spoke truth, and I knew the name of the feeling that made me deadly weak; it was more than fear. It was despair.

She spoke truth—yet she wanted me to rush fate, kill Arthur tomorrow if not today, put her on the throne with me—was that her destiny? Odd that Merlin had not mentioned her in his prophecies.

Anger helped me somewhat. I stood up, taller than she. “I am leaving now,” I said, and I turned my back and walked away from her.

I knew the way to the courtyard—down the tower, then through a corridor to the great hall, then out. With Gull at my heels I descended the tower steps and opened the door.