Up ahead, Emry could see the warm candlelit glow of the wealthy townhouses on the Strand. She wondered what anyone looking out would make of them, a boy and a girl in torn, bloodstained clothes, with a glowing sword.

“For someone who isn’t magic, you sure have an affinity for it,” Emry observed. “But then, it does run in families. And your sister—”

“Don’t call her that.” A muscle feathered in Arthur’s jaw.

“I’m sorry,” Emry said quietly. “Tonight was a lot.”

“Well, we got through it. Together. You, and me, and good old Aunt Matilda.” He shot her a crooked grin.

“When your father demands that we explain ourselves, please refer to Excalibur exactly like that,” Emry said.

Arthur scrubbed a hand through his hair. “If my father demands an explanation, I’ll tell him that now I know what Yurien wants. No more games, or niceties, or pretending we’re not enemies destined for war. We should be preparing to outsmart him, not waiting for him to make the first move. That’s no strategy, and it’s no way to defeat a would-be tyrant.”

“Careful,” Emry warned. “You’re starting to sound like a king.”

“Yeah, well.” Arthur shot her a sidelong glance. “Probably a side effect of saving your life.”

“Whatever, I saved yours first.”

“I saved yours better,” Arthur insisted with a maddening smile.

“It isn’t a contest,” she retorted.

They were in the same alleyway, Emry realized, where she and Gawain had faced down bandits after leaving the Crooked Spire. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had been so afraid of two men with mere knives.

Now, she thought, she could destroy them with a twitch of her hand. The realization was both satisfying and terrible. But she had wanted this. To be Arthur’s court wizard. To stand by his side as he fulfilled his destiny. And to forge a destiny of her own. She hadn’t wondered how it would change her, and what the price might be to lead such a life. But it was too late to turn back. And even if she could, she wouldn’t have wanted to. This was her fight now, and maybe it had always been.

“Come along, wizard.” Arthur squinted toward the castle gates, where Lance was urgently flinging orders at a collection of guards. “I think they’re about to send out a search party.”

CHAPTER 49

Arthur stormed out of his father’s apartments, wishing he hadn’t both-ered. He’d gone in with every intention of admitting the truth about where he’d been, and confronting his father about Morgana. But somehow, the words had turned to ash in his mouth.