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reminder.”
    “Sorry, Merlin,” they said in unison.
    “So what do we do now?” Agravain asked Merlin.
    Merlin sighed. “We wait to see what Kerrigan does. We can’t give over the table to him…atleast not without a wheelbarrow and a bucket. And even if we do, I am sure he will kill Seren and end her bloodline for us.” Merlin took up pacing the hall. “Somehow we must find a way to get Seren out of Camelot.”
    Gawain looked up to the seal of the Pendragon that hung on the wall above them. A brightly colored fresco, it held the image of a dragon with a lion sleeping at its feet. Fire curled around the beast that stood with its wings spread wide. The dragon was alert and ready to defend its power and territory.
    Behind that seal, lying asleep in a tomb, wasn’t the king of legend.
    It was one of his true sons that he’d sired with Queen Guinevere.
    “Should we wake Draig for this?”
    “Nay,” Merlin said. “His time to rise isn’t now. Summon the others. Whatever we do, we cannot allow evil to win. If they do…”
    Everything good would die and the world would seriously reek.

Chapter 2
    Kerrigan entered Morgen’s room with his arms folded over his chest. Her receiving room was open and light, decorated in pale yellows and gold. Her blond hair was striking against her darker skin. She looked like an angel, but Kerrigan knew from experience that those looks were definitely deceiving.
    Her gown was a vivid, unnatural red that moved like blood on her body. She was dancing in the room with her Adoni. Unlike the graylings, they were tall, fair of form, and agile. Humans oft called them elves, but they should never be confused with their Germanic cousins. The Adoni were a separate, vicious race that preyed on mankind whenever they could. It was what endeared them so to Morgen.
    She paused in her dancing as she saw him. “So you’ve come to me finally.”
    He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why did you send for me?”
    “I want you to keep a very close eye on our guest.If I know that bitchtress Merlin, and I do, she will set loose her dogs to come here and liberate her.”
    He scoffed at the witch. “I don’t make such mistakes. Neither Merlin nor her bastard minions will ever be able to breach these walls.”
    Morgen smiled at that as she crossed the room to stand beside him. She reached out to brush his hair back from his face. Her touch was as icy as her heart. “Why do you never come to my bed anymore, Kerrigan?”
    He cut a glare to the handsome Adoni male who watched them with jealousy and interest. “I find your bed too crowded for my tastes.”
    She laughed coldly at that. “There was a time when you didn’t mind crowds. But you are very daring, my evil heart. I’m not sure why I allow you to speak to me thus.”
    “Then kill me, Morgen,” he said without fear or passion. Honestly, he couldn’t care less at this point.
    She sighed at that as she continued to toy with his hair. “We both know I can’t so long as you carry the sword Caliburn and its scabbard.” She gave him a pretty, seductive pout. “You have been with me all these centuries past, Kerrigan. Always serving my needs. Always killing and torturing others for my whims. You remind me so much of my son.”
    Hardly. Mordred was a weakling milksop compared to Kerrigan, and they both knew it. True, Mordred had been cruel, but he was nowhere near as inventive or zealous as Kerrigan. “But I am not Mordred.”
    Her eyes sparked at the reminder of her son who lay in stasis, awaiting the time when hewould awaken again to torture the world of man. “Nay, you are not.” She pulled his head down to hers so that she could kiss him.
    Kerrigan didn’t respond. He’d long ago grown tired of her cold, demanding touch.
    She pulled away from his lips with a curse, then shoved him back. “Begone from me.”
    He inclined his head to her and for once, obeyed.
     
    Seren rubbed her eyes as she felt herself waking up. What a terrible dream she’d had.