The Death Catchers by Jennifer Anne Kogler Page B

you know about my death-specter?” I asked.
    â€œThat is unimportant. What is important, however, is that I am now fairly certain my sister Morgan le Faye is responsible for sending these specters to you.” Agatha rocked slightly in her chair.
    â€œWho?”
    Agatha looked startled. “Has your grandmother told you nothing of the Seven Sisters of Avalon?”
    â€œI only found out I was a Hand of Fate a few hours ago.”
    Agatha, displeased, shook her head. “You are a direct descendant of Morgan le Faye. Her half-mortal daughter was the first of your kind hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. Whatever gifts you have, you inherited from her.”
    â€œWhat happened to Morgan? Where is she?” I asked. My mind couldn’t connect any of the dots Agatha was providing.
    Agatha’s eyes drifted past my own. I traced her gaze and realized she was staring at the painting on the wall above me. “I imagine Morgan is where she was when I left a very, very long time ago,” Agatha said, almost as if talking to herself. “The Isle of Avalon.”
    â€œHow do I get there?”
    â€œYou do not. Even someone like you, a mortal who has the blood of Avalon running through her veins, can only set foot there by invitation, as it is the gateway between this world and the next.”
    â€œWell, if this Morgan woman, er, your sister, is the one who’s sending the death-specters, I have to find a way to reach her.”
    â€œI will repeat what I said to your grandmother when she came here asking for my sister: I cannot summon Morgan, I do not communicate with Morgan, and I have never been able to control Morgan.” Agatha folded her arms in her lap.
    Morgan le Faye was clearly a dead end. I attempted to shift the conversation elsewhere.
    â€œVivienne le Mort is another of your sisters, then?”
    â€œYes,” Agatha said.
    â€œHow old are you all?”
    â€œThe Seven Sisters are older than you can possibly fathom.” I felt Agatha was being purposefully vague.
    â€œWhat did Vivienne mean, just now, when she said that she was going to cut every single thread in Crabapple?” Once I asked that question, others followed easily. “And who is this last Pendragon person she seems so obsessed with? Is she fighting with Morgan?”
    Agatha’s face grew pale. She brought both hands to her face and held her head in them. When she removed them, there were tears in her clear gray eyes. “The dreadful rift between Morgan and Vivienne began the moment I told my sisters of the vision instructing us to find a suitable Keeper to watch over Arthur. My visions have brought me and those I love nothing but agony. Now that Morgan and Vivienne have clashed over the prophecy regarding the Last Descendant, I will not place myself in the middle again.” She said it like a declaration and then paused, before adding, “If Doomsday arrives, so be it.”
    â€œOkay … well then, what is Doomsday? If you could just explain what Vivienne le Mort is after, maybe—”
    â€œEnough,” Agatha said, putting her hand up. Her voice hardened. “I cannot help you or your grandmother.”
    â€œI’m not asking for help, I just want to know what you know.”
    It turned out to be the absolute wrong thing to say. Agatha’s expression changed from sad to angry. “What I know ? What I know? If you had any idea of the things I know, it would utterly devastate you!” Agatha stood up. Her jaw tightened as her voice rose. “What I know , you foolish child, is that if Vivienne does discover your abilities, she will destroy you … what I know is that you had better think very carefully about the choices that will soon confront you.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” I said, trying not to cower as Agatha inched closer to me.
    â€œI will not get involved,” she said coldly. “You and your grandmother are never to return