STEFANO
“Thank goodness you’re safe, My Lord,” I said, sheathing my dagger and striding towards Prince John. “The rebels have invaded the castle and plan to kill you and ransack the castle. I’ve been hiding out with them, undercover, for days now. I had no chance to raise the alarm. Until now.”
The prince’s laugh made my bones turn to ice. “Oh, you had no chance to warn us of the coming attack? Is that right, Stefano?” He drummed his fingertips on the arms of his carved, wooden chair. “Do you really think me that foolish? To believe that you have simply been working undercover within the rebel organisation. And that you have not, in fact, debased yourself by binding your life to that vile witch?”
I fought to keep my cool and give away nothing, but the way he spoke about Morgaine made me bite down on my tongue until I tasted blood. How did he know? How had he heard about the bond? I couldn’t figure out?—
“Dominico, join us,” Prince John said to someone over my shoulder, and I felt the world dissolve beneath my feet. My best friend stood behind me, a look of disgust in his usually warm brown eyes. “Come, tell Stefano what you were telling me. Abouthim and the witch.” He beckoned Nico in and my friend came to stand beside me, looking straight ahead at the prince.
“The High Sheriff and the witch are bound by a magical enchantment, my lord. They bear a mark over their hearts, symbolising their union.”
I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. My oldest friend had betrayed me to the prince? He knew the bond had been forced on me against my will. How could he do this to me?
“Show me the mark.”
Nico reached over without hesitation and tore my shirt open to reveal the spidery mark marring my chest. It had grown and turned black since he’d last seen me, and he looked shocked at what he saw in the candlelight.
“It’s not what it looks like. I’m going to break the bond, I just need a little more time, my lord. The new moon?—”
Prince John gestured vaguely towards me with a hand. “Kill him.”
“What? No,” I stuttered, but it was too late. Nico had drawn his dagger and swung at me. I threw my arm up to block him and felt the blade slice into my skin. I roared. “Nico! Stop.”
He drew back and advanced on me again. I remembered my own knife and pulled it from its sheath quick enough to parry Nico’s next blow. He was my best friend, I knew his every move, every technique he had been taught I had been right there beside him, perfecting it too.
When he lunged for me, I dodged, anticipating his moves with ease, just like I had in training.
But there was one thing Nico had now that he hadn’t had in training: a reason to want me dead. He ducked as I slashed my blade towards him, intending to push him back rather than fatally wound him, and he must have seen my hesitation, because he dropped low and kicked out at my knee, sending me sprawling to the ground. He was on me in seconds, knocking myown knife away and holding his weapon high above his head, ready to thrust it into my chest. The cold fury in his eyes hurt more than the blow I expected to come at any moment. I closed my eyes and waited to die at my best friend’s hand.
A loud thud was followed by a strange gurgling sound, and I opened my eyes to see Nico leaning over me, the tip of an arrow protruding from his chest.
“The Hood!” Prince John cried out, and a rush of relief crashed into me. I would grieve for Nico later, but at that moment I was just glad to be alive. And all thanks to the arrogant young rebel, Robin Hood.
The prince scrabbled backwards knocking his chair over and, finding no way out of his room that wasn’t already blocked by an armed rebel, he pressed his back against the open window, leaning half of his body out.
“Don’t hurt me. Take anything you want, just let me live,” the prince said, all bravado suddenly gone in the face of certain death.
“I’m not here to kill you,” the person under the hood said. Except, I couldn’t be certain, but it sounded like a female voice. And now that I looked closer, the hooded cloak this rebel wore was red, instead of Robin Hood’s forest green.
“Come away from the window,” the red hooded girl said, moving towards Prince John with a hand outstretched.
“No, don’t!” The prince cried out, just as he lost his balance and disappeared into the dark night. There was no scream, only a crunch as the prince landed on the gravel below.
The girl gasped, dropping her bow, and threw back her hood as she rushed to look out of the window. When she turned to me, face stricken, I realised where I had recognised that soft, intelligent voice. This was no poor, desperate rebel. Lady Gwyn-Marie stood before me, shock draining the colour from her already pale skin.
A wave of pain rippled through the mark on my chest. “Morgaine,” I muttered, my senses coming back to me. I gripped Lady Gwyn by the upper arms. “Take me to Merlin’s quarters, I need to help her.” When she didn’t move or blink I gave her a gentle shake. “There is nothing you can do for him now, Gwyn. You need to help me before Merlin kills her and destroys everything.”
With Lady Gwynat my back, bow raised, I threw open the door to the tower where Merlin had been squatting like a poisonous toad, controlling Prince John and ruling over the Royal Forests by proxy for months. Possibly even years.
The sight that met my eyes turned my blood to ice. Morgaine kneeled in the centre of the circular room, head bowed. Merlin stood over her with a blank expression on his face, eyes rolling back in his head as he chanted in some unrecognisable language.
“Don’t,” I told Gwyn, worried what killing Merlin right now might do to Morgaine. I rushed forward and fell to my knees before her. I took her face in my hands, but her eyelids only fluttered. Wind whistled through the open windows, swirling around us and sending pieces of paper flying in a spiral around us. I felt a crackle of power in my chest, whatever Merlin was doing was making Morgaine’s magic surge. Was he trying to take it for himself? I couldn’t let him do that.
“Morgaine, you have to fight. For Rosemary. For Sal and Lavender. For yourself. You can stop this, I know you can. Remember who you are, Morgaine.” I scanned her face, hoping to see her eyes open, but instead I noticed the subtle changes in her appearance as the magic coursed through her. Her once dark-brown hair was now pitch black and floating as if she wasdrifting on a river. Her skin had paled and her features had become finer; her nose a little longer, her chin a little sharper.
She gasped and her eyes flew open, and I fell backwards with a yell. The hazel eyes I’d known now glowed a bright, vibrant green. She was exquisite, and a little terrifying to behold. This was the real Morgaine, the one she had hidden beneath a facade. The one she’d almost forgotten existed.
Merlin staggered back, a confused look on his face. “What did you do? Morgana, what is this?” He was looking at his own hands as if he had never seen them before.
