Ari’s mind smacked into the memory of wearing Kay’s body—and Merlin making her promise that she would do no harm with it. Ari glanced at the tower hundreds of feet below her magboots. “Maybe Merlin didn’t know what that psychopath was going to do, Morgana.”
“Maybe he did not care.” Morgana curled her hands into fists as if she were imagining squeezing the life from Merlin. “That would be enough to loathe him, but there’s more. When that violation turned into my beautiful brother, Merlin stole him. He corrupted Arthur with his trainings and self-aggrandizing importance. The once and future king. The unifying force of mankind. Merlin convinced Arthur to give himself to the machinations of warring men. And he has been lost to them ever since.”
Ari looked down at her hands, clutching Excalibur. She could feel a limp, bird-boned Merlin in her arms, newly pulled from the frozen ground of Urite. His words had been as brittle as flecks of ice.
There are worse things to steal. Like children from their families.
“You believe me,” Morgana said, “because you know no woman would create such lies. Perhaps the cycle has finally solved one problem.”
“We are close to figuring out how to end the cycle. And you’re going to help, whether you like it or not.”
Ari’s drive came from somewhere deeper than a long-dead king. She turned her sword point down and cast the blade into the crystal casing, through the damn Mercer logo like a bull’s-eye. Ari imagined ice breaking, fracturing, and snapping apart around her.
That wasn’t what happened.
The barrier popped like a glass bubble, and she fell mercilessly toward the surface of the red planet.
Ari didn’t let go of Excalibur, even if it made her fall faster, harsher, spinning. And the sword had its own ideas, guiding her toward that skyscraper of a tower, snagging on the top edge. The blade slammed into the sandstone in a way that yanked Ari’s arm in its socket. She swung from a height that was impossible. Improbable. Insane.
Ari instantly tried to get a second hand on the pommel, but twisted and nearly fell.
“Help!” she called out.
No one came—perhaps because she was speaking the wrong language.
“Musaeada!” she called, the word smooth and strong.
Still, no one appeared.
Ari’s teeth gnashed, her whole body began to shake, and there on the edge of the tower, Morgana appeared, sitting with her legs crossed, elbow on knee, chin in palm. “Death by gravity? Interesting choice. I admit you are my favorite Arthur thus far. I honestly didn’t think my misguided brother with his antiquated beliefs would ever choose a girl. Still, why you?”
“I don’t know,” Ari said, each word loosening her grip on the sword. “Help me.”
“Why?” Morgana asked, no longer cold or dangerous. All of a sudden she seemed like a girl who’d gotten the worst fate in the world. Worse than Ari’s. “If you fall, I’ll simply have to wait for a new Arthur. Another chance. I think that’s the best choice at this point in the game.”
“Merlin is dying. What do you think will happen to your cycle when he’s gone?”
Morgana shook her head and—was Ari imagining it?—she seemed angered by the idea of losing Merlin. “He’s too stubborn to die.”
“He’s getting too young. He’s scared. Terrified.” Ari’s grip burned. “And you’re not going to let me die like you did to all those other Arthurs. The ones you killed.”
Morgana leaned closer. “I killed the ones who were poisoned by Merlin. I release my brother’s spirit so he might take flight again, find a new creature to mend his broken soul. So tell me, forty-second King Arthur, do you believe your fate is to unite humankind?”
“My fate…” Ari gasped, “… is mine.”
Morgana vanished.
Ari swung from the sword, the wind pressing her closer to the tower in a way that helped her wedge her feet against the stone. She adjusted her grip in a moment of sheer terror that left her heart firing off its beat. All she had to do was climb.
She kicked into the tower, lifted herself—and Excalibur wobbled in its hold.
She froze.
Something caught her eye from below. A large four-legged creature scaled the tower at rapid speed. A giant gods damn taneen—the desert lizards Kay always called dragons—scurried up to meet her with the hungriest look on its face. Ari scrabbled against the tower, not caring if she fell. Falling would be better than being eaten alive.
But when the lizard came up underneath her, nearly half the size of Error, it lifted her up with its scaled head, dropping her off on the roof of the tower. She sprawled, shaking. Excalibur was still stuck in the stone, out of reach, as the taneen started sniffing her. Admittedly she didn’t remember much about Ketch, but she was certain these creatures weren’t supposed to be this big… or inside the city.
A primal fear took over. The kind that wasn’t organized and complicated like her fear of Mercer. It was bold and raw. A pounding, resounding, Oh, holy shit.
Taneens were only dangerous when they were hungry; that’s what her father had always promised. She glanced along the harsh, platelike scales folded into a hard ridge down its back, ending in a long, alarming tail. The large triangular head made its way to her face, huffing dry, hot breath into her hair. Its eyes were a bluish red that blazed purple when the sun lit on them.
The taneen backed off, cowering oddly before it shook like it was ridding itself of rain. Ari watched with a sort of horror as Morgana seeped out of its scales, shaking her bluish body, straightening her ethereal dress. “What a creature,” she whispered, seemingly enamored. “Powerful, savage, like the wolves of Earth. Hard to convince. She very much needs to eat you.”
“Were you… inside of it? Controlling it?” Ari asked, still breathing hard.
Morgana held her palms up. “You asked for my help. Are you, or are you not still dangling from the ledge of certain death?”
Ari scrambled to her feet, backing toward a doorway as the taneen regained its sense of self. Its scales lifted high, a hissing breath making it bare fine, sharp teeth.
“She’s in a mood, desperate to mate. Only there aren’t many of her kind left. She’s rather lonely, truth be told. Her last few hatchlings have died of hunger.”
“While that’s fascinating, Morgana, right now she looks pissed.”
“Not pissed. Starving.”
“Why didn’t you take her out of the city before you let go of her? She’s going to attack me any second!”
“Because you need to prove yourself. I’m not Merlin, who’ll give you chance after chance to fail on your way to success. With me, you lose once, and then it’s game over.” She laughed as if she’d finally, in all her long years, started to have fun. “Go on, Ari, King of Your Own Fate. Slay a dragon. Let’s see it.”
Ari gaped. This was like training with Merlin, only completely bonkers and deadly. “What do I get if I win?”
Morgana ticked her answers off on her fingers. “One, you survive. Two, you earn my help, and three, I’ll give you all the truths you crave. Every detail. All the foul answers and dark paths of your predecessors that Merlin is too scared to reveal.”
The taneen was taking Ari in, tasting the air with a forked tongue.
“Deal.” Ari searched out Excalibur, finding the blade lodged in a notch on the stone balcony—on the other side of the dragon. Because, holy shit, Kay was right; taneens were totally dragons. Ari called for help again and rattled the doorknob, but it was locked tight. Where is everyone? Did they go into hiding when I broke the barrier? Is Mercer on its way?
Ari made the terrible choice to glance at the sky. The taneen shot toward her and snapped its powerful jaws at her left leg. She jolted sideways, leaping onto the rim of the tower edge, only to reel backward from vertigo. Jumping down, the taneen twisted around itself in the tight space, trying to reach her, and she used its momentarily knotted limbs to climb over its back and dive for Excalibur.