Sword of Darkness by Kinley MacGregor Page A

Morgen. Why not?
    Kerrigan kicked his spur into the side of the dragon, who dipped them sharply to the right in response to the painful prodding.
    “See!” Seren snapped at him. “There you go again. Has it never occurred to you to be kind to the very thing that is keeping you from falling to the ground?”
    “Blaise would never drop us.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because the fall wouldn’t kill my king,” the dragon said calmly. “It would only make him angry and then he would nail my scaly hide to his wall as a trophy.”
    Kerrigan gave her a smug look.
    Still she was far from appeased. “As if that would make it right. Have you no conscience?”
    “Nay, Seren.”
    “No decency?”
    “I think she missed the part where you are pure evil, my king.”
    “Nothing is pure evil,” Seren argued. “There is goodness in all.”
    “Did she not meet Morgen?” Kerrigan asked the dragon.
    “Aye. I think the woman is daft. Mayhap delusional as well.”
    Seren actually growled at him. “You are impossible. Both of you.”
    Kerrigan took her angry words in stride, which surprised her, really, since he didn’t seem to have much patience with others. “And why were you not abed after I left you?”
    She narrowed her eyes on him. “Let us see…because I wanted to escape?”
    “And you see where that led you,” he said in a flat, even tone. “Had you stayed abed, you’d be safe now.”
    She wanted to choke him. She really, truly did.
    As they neared the dark tower where she had been torn from the window, Blaise pulled to a stop and hovered there in the middle of the air as his great wings flapped thunderously loud.
    Kerrigan looked up from Seren to see what had alarmed the dragon.
    His features hardened as he saw the entire Stone Legion flying toward them. There were at least two hundred gargoyles in formation. To most, it would be a fearsome sight. To Kerrigan, it just pissed him off.
    “I think Morgen wants the girl,” Blaise said simply.
    “Morgen!” Kerrigan shouted into the wind. “Call them back or lose them all.”
    He was answered by a smug, disembodied voice. “Give me the Penmerlin’s mother.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I want her.”
    “As do I.”
    A shriek echoed. “Give her over, Kerrigan. Now!”
    “Nay.”
    “Are you sure about that, my liege?” the dragon asked in a low tone.
    “Positive.”
    Seren was extremely grateful that Kerrigan wouldn’t surrender her and yet at the same time, she thought him rather daft for that decision. And her belief in his foolishness only increased with Morgen’s next words.
    “Take his sword and scabbard and he is naught but a mortal man to be killed,” Morgen ordered the gargoyles. “The one to bring his head to me will be my new right hand.”
    Blaise let loose a blast of fire. “We are really screwed, my king,” he said afterward. “Any ideas?”
    Kerrigan jerked the reins to turn the dragon about. “Pull out of Camelot.”
    Seren covered her eyes as the gargoyles encircled them.
    The next thing she knew, the dark gray sky was blue with bright, blinding sunlight all around them. The light was harsh against her eyes as they flew through the open air. But at least they appeared to be alone. She couldn’t see a single trace of the gargoyle army they had left behind.
    They approached a lonely castle set on a small island that appeared to be surrounded by the bluest water she’d ever seen. It looked strangely tranquil, especially given the near disaster they had just escaped.
    Blaise landed them on the tallest tower before he took the form of a man again. Dressed now in a green tunic and brown breeches, he looked outover the water as if he half expected the gargoyles to rejoin them, too. “They’ll be coming for us.”
    Kerrigan shook his head. “Unless you’ve spoken to her to inform her otherwise, Morgen knows nothing of this place.”
    Blaise looked less than convinced. “Are you certain?”
    He nodded. “I have kept it from her.” Then