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The second variable was the other elementals. Would they swoop in before Grinn reared his ugly head? Lady Thorn was not one to give up on revenge without payment in full. The vultures would be circling him, it was just a matter of whether or not they dove in to finish him off.
Or if his knights would work to protect him.
They could not act overtly to hurt him—but would they save his life, if it came to it? No. He suspected they very much would not. Save for perhaps Galahad. Even then, he could not be certain whether the Knight in Gold would defend him.
Mordred’s death meant freedom. For him, for the other knights—for all of Avalon.
Turning his attention up to the sky, he watched the white clouds lazily drift overhead. A blue sky that had been missing from the world for so very long. All due to his actions—all due to his pathetic attempt to protect the island.
All due to a vow he made to his dying uncle. That he would seek to protect Avalon at all costs. Even from itself. Someday, he wondered if his thoughts would ever be allowed to drift elsewhere. Likely it would be the day he died.
He could only pray that his final thoughts were of the woman he loved.
One of his scouts rode back toward him. “My liege!” The iron soldier who hailed him was not riding a horse—instead, he was part of his horse. Mordred had taken his inspiration from old depictions of a centaur. It made the scout fast and nimble, if somewhat nightmarish, with the twisted details and asymmetrical design of his armor.
“Speak.” Mordred did not slow his horse or the legions behind him as the scout pulled around to walk beside him.
“There are elementals ahead. Ten of them. They wish to parley with you.”
Ten elementals. Hardly enough to stand against him and his army. Whatever could they be after? They knew the Iron Crystal had been remade as it lumbered behind him. It was hardly subtle. Violence could not be on their minds—it was suicidal if so.
Intrigued, he kicked the side of his horse and commanded it to gallop.
Perhaps they had come to aid him in his war against the demon.
Or perhaps Zoe had already betrayed him.
He supposed there was only one way to find out.
NINE
Gwen slipped the gold coin underneath Walter’s door as she snuck out that morning. It wasn’t exactly “early” but then again, the tavern was open late. She didn’t want to have to explain to the kind innkeeper exactly the kind of mess she was about to get herself into, and she really didn’t want to keep lying to him either. So she tiptoed down the stairs, with Eod being far less careful not to make a racket as he headed toward the front door.
She hadn’t thought to ask which “edge of town” Bert and his friends wanted to meet her at, but she supposed it didn’t matter. Eod would be able to sniff them out, she was sure. But she had one thing to do first—now that she’d figured out she could summon money, she wanted to buy herself a decent cloak. Luckily, the one store in town seemed to sell a little bit of everything, and it was already open.
“Stay.” She patted Eod on the head. “I’ll get you some bread and cheese or something.”
“Food? Okay, stay for food.” Eod lay down by the door with a grunt, those large, doleful eyes watching her.
“You’re the best doggo.” She smiled down at him and headed inside. The bell over the door chimed as she walked in.
“Mornin’, lass!” a woman greeted her cheerfully from behind the counter. She had short, curly blonde hair and a round, inviting face with rosy cheeks and freckles. Gwen instantly liked her. The store smelled like baked goods and like woodsmoke.
“Good morning.” She smiled. “I was hoping to buy a cloak and some food for the road.”
“Of course, of course.” The woman walked out from behind the counter, humming to herself as she went about gathering up a basket of goods. “And some meat for that hound you have, eh?”
“He’ll gnaw my leg off if I don’t.” Gwen chuckled. “Truth be told, he’s a sweetheart. Unless you’re a rabbit.” Well, except for that one guy that Eod attacked after she had been shot through with an arrow—but she figured that counted vaguely as self-defense.
“Reminds me of the Prince in Iron’s dogs. Fearsome things, those beasts—yours seems like a gentle giant.”
“Yeah.” She smiled, hoping her nervousness didn’t show.
Luckily, the woman wasn’t really paying much attention to her, still pulling down various goods from the shelves before heading to the back. “Afraid I don’t have much in the way of cloaks that’d fit you, but I do have one I think you’d like.” She returned with a folded-up piece of gray wool. She unfurled it and, sure enough, it looked like a moderately thick wool cloak with a hood. It’d be perfect to hide Gwen’s fire-colored hair, should it get out of control.
Smiling again, Gwen took it and tried it on. It just barely reached her ankles. It was the perfect length, and it was wonderfully comfortable. “I love it.”
“Fantastic. Ten shillings for the lot.” The woman walked back behind the counter.
