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“You know it is only a matter of time. You can see into the hearts of others. Tell me he does not still wish to burn this world to ashes, and I will stop my war.” The weariness of his existence weighed on him suddenly, his shoulders drooping as if with a literal burden. “I wish nothing more than to spend my days alone and in peace, Gossamer Lady.”
“With your Gwendolyn?” She tilted her head to the side slightly.
“I…” He took a breath, held it, and, through the exhale, finished his sentence. “Sent her back to Earth.”
Zoe clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Mordred.”
“Yes. I know. I am well aware. But without her elemental magic, she was mortal. I could not see her harmed by those who would seek to harm me. I—” What was the use in denying it? Zoe knew the truth, plain as day. “I love her.”
“I know.” She reached up her hand and placed her palm against his cheek, her touch soft and warm like the kiss of the morning sun. “You and Galahad are far too eager to sacrifice yourselves for those around you. It is frustrating.”
He smiled gently. “Yes. I can imagine so.”
“Tell me, prince—if I agree to help you…” The hope in her voice made her question an obvious one.
“I will release Galahad from my service.” It would be a great loss, not having the knight at his side. But it had been too long for the cruelty to continue. And he could no longer pretend that he did not sympathize with the Knight in Gold’s desire to be in the arms of the woman he loved.
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “It would put you at a great disadvantage in the wars to come.”
“Perhaps he could be persuaded to take pity on an old fool and stand at my side—but only if he chooses to.” Mordred took Zoe’s hand in his, lifting it from his cheek. Her hand was so small, and delicate compared to his. It felt like the petal of a flower.
Zoe smiled wistfully. “I fear he loves you too much to see you suffer alone.”
Mordred fought the instinct to scoff at the idea. But perhaps she was not wrong—perhaps Galahad did indeed care for him. Or, perhaps Zoe was lying, and only using the notion to further prompt Mordred to release Galahad.
Trust was hard for him. He knew this. He accepted it.
But that was what this moment was attempting to teach him—how to trust. He supposed he no longer cared for the outcome if he were betrayed. He had no desire to die. Yet he did not know how deeply he desired to continue to live alone.
Only his duty to his uncle and to Avalon remained to inspire him.
“Very well, prince.” Zoe took a step away from him. “Perform your spell. I will do as you ask.”
Nodding, he took another step away from her in return, and placed his hand on his chest, over his heart. Shutting his eyes, he focused. It was difficult to work the magic on himself, but it was not impossible. Iron twisted beneath his fingers, and he forced it into his flesh, the same he had done to the other knights so long ago. He snarled in pain as he felt the crystal begin to form, digging into his flesh and forcing itself into his body.
The agony of it took him down to one knee by the time he finished the enchantment, his head reeling. Taking a moment to steel himself, he focused on linking the new magic to an item. He would not give Zoe the power outright—no, it had to be tied to an object that he could take from her when the deed was done.
A necklace would do.
A talisman made of iron, hanging upon a delicate chain. The twisting knots of the delicate piece tangled around a glistening opalescent shard that pulsed with the beat of his heart.
When he was finished, sitting in his palm was the key to his life. The key to his continued existence. This should have belonged to Gwendolyn. But that was not the path that fate took us.
Forcing himself back to his feet with a grunt, he nearly toppled back over. It felt as though he had just gone through another boxing match with Galahad.
Zoe merely looked on; her expression curious but otherwise unreadable. It was impossible to know what she thought of the whole debacle, or his clear suffering. He held the necklace out to her, dangling it from his fingers. She took it, running her fingers over the shard of magic in the center. Donning the necklace, she fluttered her wings and took flight once more, hovering a few feet from the ground.
The Gossamer Lady’s tone was grim. “It is time for us to get to work, Prince in Iron.”
Yes. He supposed it was.
SIX
Gwen woke up. Or, really, honestly, she had already been awake—she just suddenly became aware of herself. It was like the lights had been turned off, and then suddenly, they were flicked back on.
The last thing she remembered was the tornado. And screaming at the top of her lungs as she got sucked up into the swirling vortex in the sky.
One moment it had only been a confusing and gut-wrenching mess of up-down-up-down, left-right-left-right. The next, she was…sitting in a field.
