“The Lines follow the original Round Table’s chain of command, and that rank determines the order in which we are Awakened.” He points to a bloodline that descends from a green stone and ends in a small star. “This one is me. I’m the Scion of the Line of Sir Gawain, twelfth-ranked. In addition to enhanced healing, the Spell gave Gawain preternatural strength at midday and midnight.” I gape and he shrugs. “Gawain was an odd guy, what can I say.”

He shifts his finger to the next line on the Wall, one that descends from an orange stone: “Fitz is the Scion of Sir Bors, eleventh-ranked. In combat, he has agility like you’ve never seen. When we take a Squire, we’re choosing a battle partner to join us in the Warrior’s Oath. Someone who will share our bloodline’s power. Fitz chose Evan as his Squire last year.”

He moves over a handful to the line below a dark yellow gem: “Pete is new to us this year, a freshman. The Scion of Sir Owain, ranked seventh. Owain’s Scions can call upon his lion familiar to join them in battle. Pete needs a Squire this year, just like I do.”

Over a few, the red stone: “Felicity is the Scion of Lamorak’s bloodline. Ranked fourth, as you know. She chose Russ as her Squire in last year’s tournament. After tonight, she’ll be strong enough to punch through a boulder—and when Sel Oaths them, so will Russ.”

Over one, blue. “Victoria is the Scion of the Line of Tristan, third-ranked, with Sarah as her Squire. When she Awakens, her name will go here. Marksmanship and speed.”

He points to a final line, right down the center. “And this star is for Nick.”

I look up. Arthur’s pure white diamond leads down, down, down to a single shining star engraved in the wall at the same height as my hip.

My fingers reach out to touch it without my permission, and I yank them back. William’s mouth quirks in a knowing smile.

“Under normal circumstances the Order operates just fine without an Awakened king. That’s what the Regents are for. Shadowborn cross into our world to feed and terrorize, we kill them, and the peace is kept, relatively speaking. Low-ranked Scions like myself are Awakened frequently, and we’re generally strong enough to keep the demons at bay. If you age out or expire, the next eligible Scion can be Called in your place, and the cycle continues.”

“Expire? If you die, you mean?” I ask, horrified.

“The Scion in each bloodline and the nine potentially eligible descendants in the line of succession behind them begin training as soon as they can walk.” He turns to me, his eyes assessing my expression. “We know the risks and prepare for them as best we can.”