“Trystan?”
“Myr—Emrys,” Trystan whispered. He blinked slowly, his vision coming in to focus. Green eyes bore into his. He pushed himself up slowly and Emrys grabbed him in a hug. Trystan hugged him back.
Nearly exhausted, Emrys breathed and released Trystan. His heart still thundering, Marc swooped in, pulling Trystan into his arms. Emrys stood and paced to give them both space, but more so to give his heart a moment to recover. He’d never been so close to losing Trystan forever.
Marc tightened his arms around Trystan. He didn’t want to let him go. Once again, he’d come close to losing him, and had Emrys not been here, he would have. Marc vowed he would do whatever it took to keep Trystan safe. As long as Morgaine was alive, Trystan was in danger.
“What was that, Emrys?” Marc asked, keeping Trystan close to him.
“The Shade of Selqet. Dark magic conjured using a spell from the Book of the Dead. To cast such a spell is forbidden, not only by the guardians, but by the Egyptians who penned it as well.”
“It was Morgaine’s voice. I heard her myself.”
“Yes, because she cast the spell.” Emrys bent and scooped up the two linen cloaks from the basket he’d brought in with him. He set one around Trystan’s shoulders and the other around Marc.
“How’d she find us?” Trystan whispered between weak, labored breaths.
“Morgaine didn’t find us. The shade did. Morgaine would have had to have something of yours such as a strand of hair in order to cast the spell.”
“She’ll never stop, will she?” Marc said. It was more of a statement than a question.
“No.” Emrys held Trystan’s watery gaze. “Only death will stop her. Either Trystan’s or hers.” Emrys paused, drawing his brows together.
“What?” Marc asked.
“Morgaine.”
“What about her?”
“She’s made several attempts on Trystan’s life, but has yet to succeed.”
“Thankfully, she has not, mostly because of you.”
Emrys inhaled deeply. “She’s taunting me. It’s clear how powerful she’s become. She could have easily taken his life by now, but she hasn’t.” He looked between Marc and Trystan. “It’s good that you bonded. It may be the very reason Trystan was able to come back to us.”
“We need the armies, Emrys,” Trystan interjected, his voice stronger now. Marc loosened his hold. “And we need to get to Camelot.”
