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If he was lucky—if the Ancients smiled upon him—it would remain that way. There would be no quarter for Grinn. There would be no second chance. But as for the others who would likely stand in his way? What of those who would obstruct his army’s path to the demon?
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lifting his hand, he summoned all his strength. The chamber rumbled around him. Stones that had been placed some three hundred years ago began to crack and shift as he willed his creation to rise. To be free. He had put it to rest long ago—and he had hoped there it would remain.
But the Crystal was needed once more.
One by one, the stone pillars that suspended the Crystal split and fell, the blocks tumbling to the ground in a rain of rubble and rocks. Inside each, hidden away by Mordred’s handiwork, were the legs of his most horrifying creation.
And from the walls itself, it emerged. Twisted and cruel, like a vision from a nightmare, the spider-like monstrosity freed itself from the stone of the walls. From its rib cage hung the Crystal, suspended there between jagged metal bones like a corrupted heart.
The sound of metal screeching on metal was its greeting to him as a dozen, glowing, opalescent eyes flickered to life and it awoke from its slumber and fixed on him.
It awaited its orders.
As it always had.
Mordred’s jaw ticked. “It is time.”
The amalgam turned, its long, pointed legs making quick work of the far wall of the chamber. It was the outside wall of the cliff, the stones placed there to block the room from the outside, closed off for so many centuries.
But it knocked them loose, the sunlight streaming into the room for the first time since its creation—breaking free of its resting place. Its lair. Without a moment’s hesitation, the iron arachnid climbed free. It would scale the surface without a problem. He could hear more crumbling stone as his creation lumbered its way to the field where his army awaited.
How he had hoped to never raise his creation from its slumber.
How he had hoped it would remain there for the rest of time.
But like his resting army, there had been no guarantee of permanent victory.
Cracking his neck from one side to the other, he turned from the desolate chamber that stood in ruins, and knew that this time, there would likely be no returning to that place. The odds were likely that he would fail in his mission. And with him, would go the Crystal.
For the first time in centuries, Mordred was tired. Tired of the cycle. Of standing forever vigilant in the name of upholding his vow. He had lost so very much—and he knew more would be taken from him before all was said and done.
All in the name of protecting a people who despised and feared him.
Perhaps it would be for the best if this was his last stand.
For Mordred had nothing left to lose.
Doc and Gwen walked along the path through the woods in Avalon like it was just a normal late summer day and they were out walking the dog. Eod was crashing through the underbrush, occasionally pouncing on shrubs in an attempt to spook out rodents. Fortunately for the rodents, he was slow.
The path took them along the edge of a gorge, with a rushing river down at the bottom of it. The rapids created a white foam against the rocks. When one of the rocks moved, Gwen realized it was actually a giant turtle. Made out of rock.
As frustrated as she was with the island for jerking her around so much, she had to admit it was pretty damn cool.
They walked along in silence for a while longer before she had to ask a question. “So…” Gwen started.
“I’m not going to tell you what’s going to happen.” Doc shook his head.
“For once, I wasn’t going to ask.”
“Color me shocked!” He placed his hand on his chest in mock surprise.
She rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, what were you going to ask?” Doc grinned.
“I guess I’m just kind of confused. Not like that’s anything new.” She ran her hands through her hair. “But why does Avalon think this is my home now?”
“Because it decides who it wants to keep, in the end. It isn’t sentient—not really—but there’s a will to it all the same. Some people believe that this island was formed from the dreams of ancient gods. That there are things that exist between worlds, that are made of the void itself. Of darkness and emptiness. But that from time to time, they dream of happier things—of life.” He gestured to the forest on either side of them. They had found a path leading through the woods, and Gwen had just been content to follow wherever Doc wanted to go. It wasn’t like she knew where she was supposed to be going.
