Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3) by Alessa Ellefson

Author:Alessa Ellefson [Ellefson, Alessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-22T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

I shift restlessly on my moss bed—despite my exhaustion, something’s dragged me awake. And then I feel it again, that light, rhythmic breeze against the nape of my neck, as of someone breathing.

“Maybe I should bite her?”

I freeze at the squeaky whisper, heart pounding wildly.

“And make her bleed, you stupid furball?”

“Just a tiny pinch!”

I turn around on the bedding so quickly I hear a squeal of surprise, then the strong whirr of a giant insect’s wings.

“She’s awake!” Papillon exclaims, the jewel at his throat scintillating in the near darkness. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“What are you two doing here?” I whisper harshly, afraid anyone else might notice them, might notice their interest in me.

Papillon buzzes closer to my face, his ogham searing my vision. “You need to come with us.”

I suddenly sit up. “Are we under attack?” I ask, looking around for signs of fire.

But the adjoining rooms where the others are sleeping are peaceful, the cousins’ hefty snores reaching me through the partitions. I go very still, turning my attention back to the two flying mice.

“Do you mean my…mother?” I ask in a strangled voice.

“Hurry up, she hasn’t got much time,” Papillon says, zooming away.

“Just follow me,” the russet mouse says, flying at a statelier pace.

Still a little groggy, I track the whir of the flying mouse’s wings, my feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. I wonder how the others would feel if they found me creeping out like this?

They’d probably get on my case again. And rightfully so—no matter the size of the creature, a Fey’s a Fey, and could be dangerous. I dare a glance towards the rounded recess where Arthur’s sleeping, and my footsteps falter.

He must’ve been really exhausted, for he hasn’t bothered to pull down the moss-like drape that serves as a door, and his usually pristine room is now in total disarray—clothes, maps and books covering every inch of the floor.

I promised I wouldn’t leave him again without his knowing. And here I am, breaking my word at the first occasion.

“Over here, your ladyship,” the russet mouse calls out in a reedy whisper.

I lick my dry lips. I know I’m risking a lot on the word of two mice, but I can’t let this opportunity slip me by. Not if they’re telling the truth, and this could be my only chance to finally meet my mother.

“What are you two dilly-dallying for?” Papillon asks shrilly, making me jump. “You know her holy-light, the mother-of-all, cannot sustain the opening in the barrier for very long!”

“I know,” the russet mouse replies, “but the girl chimes to her own clockwork.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Papillon asks, bristling. “Nobody should make her most-scintillating-lady-of-the-dragons wait! Not even her own daughter.”

I wave the mice to shush, afraid that their angry squeaks are going to wake everyone up. “Alright, alright, I’m going,” I whisper at them, trying to ignore the sudden guilt swelling in my chest.

But as I reach the door to our burrow-like suite, a soft moan makes me stop again.

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