The King's Leash (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 7) by Katherine Sparrow Page A

sometimes smart enough to avoid suicide missions.
    I took a deep breath. When I had come up here, I had thought the Department would likely try to put stars on Merlin, Lila, and I. But no, they had no need of their devices to gain our servitude. The way they bound us was far superior.
    Mordred turned his gaze to me. “And now we come to Morgan le Fay, the great witch, though that’s a bit like saying the great rat. Unfortunately for your brother, I will have to—”
    “All of them,” I said. “Do it now. Fell all of them,” I said, loud enough so that whoever was on the phone would hear me clearly.
    A moment later thuds sounded around the room as everyone fell.
    I could not look at Lila and Merlin and see the betrayal and horror in their gaze. I must not.
    I stood. “I have demands that must be met.” I spoke slow and measured, as though we had all the time in the world. “I imagine whoever is on the other end of your phone has the power to negotiate?”
    Mordred leaned forward. “And you imagine you are in any sort of position to do so?” Mordred asked.
    “If I do not join you, I will bedevil this quest at every step.”
    “If you managed to leave this building.”
    “Do you truly doubt, young one, that I would have any trouble escaping?”
    Precious seconds passed as Mordred grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. He listened and then nodded at me. “Go.”
    “Morgan, stop this—” Merlin started.
    “My demands are twofold,” I said quickly, for breath and life were in short and shorter supply in this room. “Everyone in this room will be truly freed when we succeed in our quest.”
    Mordred scowled as he put the phone to his ear again. “Fine,” he snapped. “You should hurry.”
    “Second, when we succeed, I will meet with the true leaders of this Department.”
    Mordred listened again, and then nodded.
    “Then I’m in,” I said. “And the gods save us all.”
    Around the table, every slumped form jerked back to life, gasping in breath and coughing. One of the knights seemed to be having a seizure. Guinevere lay limply on the table, breathing and glaring at me.
    I looked around the table, forcing myself to see how vulnerable we all were. How well and truly owned we each were in our own way. There were few in this world I cared for, and they all sat at this table. This Department did not get to play with our lives like they were game pieces on a chess board. Not without consequences.
    Mordred squared his shoulders and looked ready to make a speech.
    No. He would not get to be the leader of this quest. I would not allow it.
    “Ancients of Camelot,” I said. “It is time you all learned why we have been brought together in this time and realm. The Department needs us to succeed where it has failed. They need us to work together and do what they cannot. We are all here to work together on a quest for the Holy Grail.”
    I put my hands on the table to steady myself, for at the mere mention of the cup, the thirst grabbed hold of me. A thirst that gnawed through me and that would not let go, would not cease, until I drank from the Grail again.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 15
    The Hunger
     
    When I opened the door to faerie yet again, I saw that the fae were cleaning up their domain in their own way. Sprites jumped up and down on the tops of sluggish mushrooms, pounding them back into the ground. Butterfly fae flittered through the air, leaving behind sugary trails as they threw seeds hither and yon. Others painted the mold blooms on the ground bright pinks and purples.
    I let go of the human’s hand, and he ran from me.
    An hour ago I had revived him from his stupor and promised him that I could keep him somewhat comfortable through his faerie dust withdrawals. I had promised him I would assist him as he rebuilt a life among humans, and that he need not return to being a faerie slave.
    He had looked at me like I was mad, and repeated incessantly that all he wanted was to