AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Or maybe he was just a crazy hobo who was plugged into the universe in a really fucked-up way. She supposed it really didn’t matter in the end. He might not be the real Merlin—but he was her wizard all the same.
And she would be happy with that, even if it resulted in her having her face melted off.
If she didn’t get her face melted off, she’d finally be able to stand toe-to-toe with Mordred and the other elementals. She could finally defend herself. And she was really, really looking forward to seeing Mordred again. And, also, chewing him out for trying to send her home.
Sounded like as good a plan as any.
Mordred climbed atop his dragon—he would never let himself call the beast Tiny, even if the dragon himself didn’t seem to mind the name—and prepared for flight. His army was assembled; row after row of iron soldiers were poised to follow his every command.
The Iron Crystal, suspended from the rib cage of the skeletal arachnid monstrosity, stood on its seven, pointed legs, surrounded by his most elite guards. It could handle itself in a fight—it had proven that time and time again. But he would take no chances.
Galahad sat atop his golden steed at the head of the army, flanked by Gawain and Tristan. Mordred would take the strongest knights with him. Bors and Percival were still scouting. It left no one in charge of his keep—but there was nothing of value within it now.
Stopping Grinn was far more imperative than protecting his home. For everything was now on the line.
Clicking his tongue, his dragon beat his enormous wings and leaped into the air, taking flight. His army began to march.
The engine of war had begun.
FOUR
“Ew.”
“I warned you.”
Gwen stared down at the bowl of…she guessed it was supposed to be stew. It was vaguely potato-flavored water with a few scraps of vegetables floating around in it. To Doc’s credit, he had in fact warned her that “dinner” at the little inn they had wound up finding was going to be gross.
And he was right.
The beer was almost as bad as the stew, but at least it was going to come with a buzz. It was also probably safer than the food. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and they had walked for hours through the woods before finding a place to stay for the night.
At least they had separate rooms.
And it wasn’t sleeping outside in the drizzle that had overtaken the area about an hour before. Eod’s scruples were far fewer than hers, and he was eager to gobble up whatever bits of food or bread she gave him. She’d feel worse for him, if he hadn’t murdered a squirrel earlier that afternoon and eaten it before she could pull the remnants of the poor critter out of his mouth.
But the tavern was dry-ish, it was warm, and there was a bed for her to sleep in. Hopefully, it was better quality than the food.
“Remind me to compliment Maewenn if I ever see her again.” She nudged a floating block of undercooked-yet-somehow-mushy potato around with her spoon.
“I’m sure you’ll see her again.” Doc had given up on the food and decided he was going to drink his dinner. He had purchased a bottle of hard alcohol from the innkeeper and was putting it down by himself. She opted not to partake. It smelled like paint thinner, and she didn’t want to throw up what little she was putting into her stomach.
Her thoughts were still miles away as she stared down into her pathetic dinner. They were, namely, on one person in particular—Mordred.
He didn’t know she was still on the island. And if he did, he’d likely try to round her up and send her away again. She had to lie low. As much as was possible, traveling with Doc. The mage seemed to have a reputation, and everybody in the small inn kept glancing at them nervously.
“How far away are we from wherever this super-magical place is?” She took a sip of the warm, flat beer. Bleh.
“Should be there by midday tomorrow.” He shrugged. “Then we’ll see how you do with Avalon’s magic. It might not work, you know. You might not be able to tap into it. What then?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Find Grinn and…ask him nicely not to torch the island.” When Doc started to snicker, she joined him. “I know, I know. I’ll just end up being barbeque.”
“Eh, he wouldn’t kill you. Not right away. He’d probably rather use you to torture Mordred.” Doc sniffed dismissively. “Send him body parts in boxes, that kind of thing.”
She went a little cold as she felt the blood drain out of her face. “You’re…joking, right?”
The sorcerer’s expression was flat as he sipped the alcohol out of the bottle. “Sure.”
Shaking her head, she stared down at the bowl of food. “I guess I don’t know what I was expecting. Of course he’d do that. He doesn’t like me. He made that very clear.”
