The game plan was to fly home from Zurich; who knew how many trains that meant before we were in the heart of Switzerland. Only Avalon was concerned about our timing though. I was too swept away with Europe to be in any hurry to leave.
Avalon’s phone buzzed gently and suddenly he sat up completely alert. I noticed the tension in his body and felt his anxiety as he opened the cell phone and answered quietly.
“Hello?” he asked softly, discretely.
“Oh, thank God,” I saw his body visibly relax and felt the apprehension turn to silent joy. “Is the package in the mail?” he asked, using code. I couldn’t help but laugh; he was like the obvious cliché for a 1950’s spy. Next thing you knew, we would be on our way to Russia to stop the Kremlin.
“What?” he asked, suddenly exasperated. “You can’t be serious! I’m not doing that. No way. I might as well send her to the London palace with instructions on how to find the rest of us. No way….” whatever he was so upset about, he had dropped all pretense of code. “No way….” he repeated over and over to whatever the other line was saying.
“Where?” he asked eventually, with a softer but more frustrated tone. The hostility in his voice was unmistakable. “How do we know it’s not a trap?” he listened a little longer, his magic growing stronger and stronger every second. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the humans could feel it for themselves. “What happens if you’re wrong?” Avalon listened longer, but did not seem appeased.
“If I do this, I want some type of insurance; some type of trade off…. We would have gotten her out of there even if he didn’t do anything. That doesn’t make him a hero; it just makes him look like an idiot!” Avalon stopped talking to get an earful from whoever was on the other line. I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat, totally engrossed in Avalon’s side of the conversation.
“Fine…. I said fine. I guess we’ll see you in Geneva,” Avalon snapped the phone shut and glared at me. I was almost too afraid to ask what that had been about.
“Geneva?” I asked tentatively.
“I guess so,” he mumbled.
“Switzerland?” I tried again.
Avalon nodded affirmatively.
“What happened to Zurich?” I finally asked bravely.
“We’ve been ordered,” Avalon paused and cleared his throat irritably, “asked…. if we would oblige the Crown Prince by joining him in Geneva,” he couldn’t even look at me, but turned to glare out the window.
“It’s not a trap Avalon,” I said quickly but quietly; my stomach filled with butterflies.
“I do not want to talk about it,” Avalon responded grumpily and I knew better than to push it.
–-
A black sedan pulled up in front of the train station and Avalon took the initiative to approach. I followed behind, shouldering my backpack once again. A man exited the driver’s side to open the back door for us. Avalon stuck his head menacingly into the back seat before entering the car fully. I smiled apologetically to the driver and climbed in behind Avalon.
Avalon sat with arms folded and his back turned to me. I knew he was mad, but I also didn’t think I really deserved the silent treatment for the last eight hours. I elbowed him roughly in the kidneys before the driver had returned to his seat, but he didn’t respond.
I was irritated with Avalon, but soon my bad feelings turned to adoration as we drove silently through Geneva at night. The streets were lit in the soft glow of streetlamps and from the bright windows of buildings built before America was even a recognized country.
Our ride took us past Lake Geneva, glistening in the moonlight. A large fountain sprayed a cascade of water from the middle of the lake, and the Alps sat as a backdrop to the perfect postcard picture. The streets were narrow, with historical buildings rising to either side. I marveled at their intricate architecture, and embellished building fronts.
When the car finally came to a stop in front of a charming palace, I was somehow not surprised. After witnessing the grand architecture and style of the Citadel, I was finally able to wrap my head around the words “Monarchy” and “Crown Prince.” I hadn’t really been expecting quite this grandeur however.
“Is this one of their palaces?” I whispered, hoping Avalon would answer.
“This is a hotel,” Avalon responded irritably. I blushed, feeling very ignorant. “Ok, it used to be one of their palaces; now it’s just a hotel,” After feeling my embarrassment, Avalon conceded the truth.
The palace turned hotel was exquisite. I was dumbstruck by the beauty and elegance of what was formerly Kiran’s family’s home. I followed Avalon out of the car and stayed timidly behind him. I glanced down at my ill-fitting, makeshift outfit and felt embarrassingly under-dressed.
As we entered the foyer of the grand hotel my mouth dropped open in awe. We were surrounded by marble pillars that reached from expansive marbled floor to vaulted marble ceiling. Intricately, upholstered furniture with golden thread filled the entrance hall. The only evidence that this was not a palace but indeed a hotel was the circulation desk with uniformed employees standing behind it.
My nerves were on edge thanks to Avalon; although he appeared relaxed and calm, his magic was surging at high alert. Because of our connection my senses were heightened with his and our magic circulated in unison. He bypassed the hotel clerks and headed straight up a wide, winding, ivory staircase.
After walking up several flights of stairs, Avalon led me into a long hallway. The hairs on the back of my neck rose suddenly when I felt the strong presence of other Immortals. Avalon slowed his pace and I noticed him clench and unclench his fists regularly.
We walked the hallway slowly and I didn’t complain. I was not sure what to expect but Avalon was so uncomfortable and tense that I regretted him coming. I felt like it was my fault and therefore also felt guilty and blameworthy; but then remembered we were ordered to come here and I was even ordered specifically not to make any more decisions. I sent this thought poignantly to Avalon; he returned it with a dirty look.
At the end of the hallway Avalon paused and took a big breath. He raised his fist to knock on the cream colored door but paused again as if he couldn’t make himself do it.
“I don’t know what’s behind this door Eden,” Avalon whispered fiercely to me and I was surprised by the apprehension in his voice. “We could be walking into a trap…. Eden,” He paused again and I waited nervously, expecting some type of brotherly declaration, instead Avalon continued, “Eden, let me have Kiran; I’ll enjoy killing him much more than you will.”
Before I could think of any response Avalon knocked forcefully on the door. He gave me another nervous sideways glance and shoved his hands deep into his pockets to appear casual. I wished he felt as calm as he was working so hard to look; his nervous energy was making me edgy.
Talbott opened the door and for some reason that surprised me. He was dressed casually and his hair was a little messier than at school. When he opened the door he was laughing and involved in a conversation. Avalon stared at him suspiciously, until he gestured with his hand for us to enter.
I was more than a little surprised to find Amory in the extravagant room. He was sitting on a plush, periwinkle sofa, holding a snifter full of a golden brown liquid. He was the one involved in conversation with Talbott, and it appeared they were having a very animated but pleasant conversation.
Avalon grunted grumpily before taking a seat close to Amory. Although he relaxed his magic a little, he was still in a sour mood. Avalon reclined in his seat and slammed his feet cross-legged onto the gold, inlaid, glass coffee table. His movement made a terrible crashing sound although he managed not to shatter the fragile antique.