❝ when she looks into his eyes, she feels the gripping temptation to tell him all her darkest secrets; the names of the men she has killed, but she learned a long time ago that the only people who can keep secrets are resting in overgrown graveyards...
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The city of Camelot has become a quiet town of ghosts. Calliope's first assumption when they return to see every citizen, guard, and knight lying on the ground is that somehow, the Knights of Medhir moved through these lands at their inhuman speed, cutting down everyone in their path before they even had a chance to blink. But there are no signs of a struggle. No pools of blood soaking the streets. It's as if time has come to an abrupt halt and lulled the city into a permanent dream.
The assassin's mind tears through several different explanations for the scene before her, but she comes up short. All she can know for sure is that magic is involved. Some spell woven into the streets and the air of dark origin. It feels similar to the atmosphere of Idirsholas—like small tendrils of buzzing magic whirling down her spine and leaving behind something sinister in their wake. In front of her, Merlin and Arthur have dismounted their horses in the courtyard. The Prince rushes to the first pair of fallen guards and presses his fingers to their pulse point.
"Are they dead?" asks Merlin.
Calliope holds her breath as she awaits Arthur's answer.
"No," he straightens his back. "No they're breathing."
"What's happened to them?" Calliope's eyes scan the courtyard for any signs of an enemy, but everything is empty and cold.
Arthur opens his mouth to give an explanation, but all he can say is, "I don't know." Every person they come across is in the same state as the first two guards, and none of them stir. "What's going on?"
Bodies are strewn across the courtyard. Some on the stairs leading to the castle, and others still gripping weapons as if they dropped like flies, one by one, coerced into an eternal sleep. Calliope has her own weapon drawn, but there's no one to fight. No one even left to defend. It appears the three of them are the only ones left awake in the entire city.
She turns sharply when the sound of a cart skirting across the ground approaches them. A horse pulls the cart, its rider no where in sight. So animals are unaffected? It's just the people. Calliope's eyebrows draw together, but she still can't explain any of this. She shares a concerned look with Arthur as Merlin glances over his shoulder.
"I'll get Gaius."
By the time Calliope tries to tell him it'll be no use—Gaius is probably unconscious like everyone else—Merlin has disappeared into the castle.
But he comes right back out, "Arthur, Cal!" Both of them move into a sprint, and when they walk into the opening corridor, they find dozens more of fallen guards and servants and councilmen. "They're all fast asleep. Must be some kind of sickness."
"I've never seen a sickness that just knocks people out and leaves them looking perfectly healthy," Calliope points out.
"Where's my father?" Arthur doesn't want to waste time theorizing. He runs through the halls with Calliope and Merlin on his heels, desperate to find King Uther.
