ARRAN
I’d never seen her like this. Gwen was stoic. She was composed.
In the wake of the fall of Baylaur, she was frazzled. When she asked to remain in Eldermist, she was coming apart at the seams.
But this… a feral beast raged in her eyes. Not the calculated feline she became when she shifted, but something much wilder.
She did not try to stand. From her knees, she looked from person to person, head whipping rapidly around the loose circle we’d formed, searching each face.
“What do you know of the Sacred Trinity?” she asked again, her voice cracking. Tears shone in her golden eyes.
Ancestors. What happened to her?
Veyka’s voice was soft and sad in my mind—Parys.
Her hand curled into mine. I could feel her agony filling the bond, stretching across the golden thread between us. The same agony that shone out through Gwen’s eyes.
“Percival,” Veyka said. This time, there was no malice in it.
Despite her distaste for him, the half-witch had been the one to recognize Excalibur and the scabbards for what they were—to tell us of the Sacred Trinity in the first place during that harrowing journey across the human realm in search of Avalon.
“The Sacred Trinity consists of three ancient magical items, forged in Avalon long ago. They are said to make the wielder the master of death,” Percival said tonelessly.
Gwen stared at him, her face inscrutable but for the pain etched on it. What else was there—confusion, relief, fear, hope—it was impossible for me to parse. Veyka’s hand tightened in mine; maybe she saw more than I did. Her grip went tighter still when Gwen began to speak.
“Not all travelers are welcome. Some invade the body, others the mind. For this reason was the sacred trinity created. What once was one then became three. The sword. The scabbards. The chalice. Only united can they banish the darkness. Three kingdoms created them. Only when wielded as one can they serve the purpose for which they were made.”
My heart understood before my mind did, surging with something so white hot, so powerful, I rocked back a step.
Beside me, Veyka’s skin was white enough to match her hair. “Is that a prophecy?”
Gwen shook her head. “A book.The Travelers.Parys was carrying it with him when…” her voice broke, but she steadied herself. “When Igraine murdered him. I read it front to back, again and again, trying to understand why he though it so important to hold on to with his dying breath.”
“Three kingdoms,” Percival said quietly. “Human, fae, and witch. A representative from each came together to forge the Sacred Trinity. That is what the legends in Avalon say as well.”
“What does it mean?” Gwen asked, her voice only slightly less desperate. Lyrena was at her side now, easing her fellow Goldstone up to stand.
“It means that if the Sacred Trinity is united, it can be used to banish the darkness,” Cyara said, louder than I’d ever heard her speak. “The Sacred Trinity can defeat the succubus.”
Veyka would live.
My mind sprang to action immediately, reorganizing the plans we’d made. Everything was different now. I’d vowed to her that we’d never be parted again. I’d vowed to myself that I would find a way to save her, even at the cost of this blasted kingdom. But here it was, for the first time since we’d reached that final standing stone atop Accolon’s island.
This feeling burning in my chest was hope.
“Veyka already has the scabbards and the sword,” Cyara explained. “We believe the chalice to be the one that was used at the Joining.”
“Merlin took it with her,” Gwen said, disappointment lining her words.
Her revelation barely dented the growing hope within me. Merlin could be hunted. With Veyka’s void power, we could search the entire continent. We’d have to send someone in our stead to Wolf Bay. Or divide our time.
Veyka—
“No.”
The word reverberated across the hilltop, through our mating bond, between the very fabric of the realms.
Veyka.
