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“No.”
“I don’t want you to die, Grinn.”
“I believe you are the only person with that opinion. You may wish to reconsider it.” He shut his eye. “Now go away.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe there wasn’t any hope, and she was just being naive. Maybe she was just remembering the asshole cat that she grew too fond of.
She walked away.
And really regretted having taken a nap at all.
I hate this. I hate all of this.
Gwen woke up as the cart lurched heavily to one side. She blinked a few times, rubbing at her eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them. Lina and Mirkon were also curled up on their sides, napping. Lina was using Eod as a pillow. Gwen smiled and tried not to feel a little jealous.
Bert was still driving the cart. The sun was starting to set, revealing that she had slept for a lot longer than she had thought. Carefully standing up, she stepped over the folks in the cart to sit down next to the scarecrow. “You must be tired.”
“Nope. I don’t sleep. Don’t need to.”
“Really?” Gwen frowned. She didn’t know why that made her sad. “So you don’t dream?”
“I have plenty of dreams. But not like you do.” He chuckled, shrugging his stuffed shoulders. He was wearing a thick wool shirt, with bits of straw poking out of random places. “I don’t sleep, but sometimes I go away—I just lose track of time, and then sometimes years could pass. Like when I was in that damn store. When I drift off like that, I think interesting thoughts. It’s hard to explain.”
That was close enough to dreaming, she figured. “I think I get it. Kind of like meditating.”
“Sure. Whatever that is.” The rusted pumpkin head swiveled to look at her. “Are you all right? You look upset.”
“Bad dream.” She frowned down at her lap. “I don’t know how to stop Grinn. And I don’t want him to die.”
“Some people can’t be helped. And for someone like you, that’s the worst thing to hear.” Bert reached out and wrapped an arm around her before hugging her into his side. He smelled like the hay loft of her parents’ barn. It brought tears to her eyes unexpectedly. She didn’t miss her old life, but she missed feeling safe. Feeling like she had, well, a home. “You want to fix everything and make everyone happy.”
“And I keep fucking it up, everywhere I go.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You convinced Mordred to destroy the Crystal, didn’t you? And because of that, my friends are free. And so is the magic that fuels the world.”
“Right. But now a bunch of jackass elementals are going to ruin it again, if Grinn and Mordred don’t rip it apart first.” She sighed.
“I have faith in you. You’re our savior, after all. You’ll find a way.”
Gwen wished she had half of Bert’s confidence. Just half. Maybe even a third. “Maybe I need to stop letting the elementals push me around. Grinn and Mordred both.”
“That’s the spirit! Show those bastards who’s boss.” Bert laughed. “Stand up to them. What’s the worst that happens?”
“Gee, I don’t know.” She smirked half-heartedly. “Death, torture, imprisonment—or all three and not in that order.”
“Bah.” The scarecrow shrugged. “What’s living without a little risk? The other option is you continue like you have been—at their mercy, like the rest of us. Grinn manipulated and used you. Mordred wants to control you because he can’t help it. And when he sees what you’ve become now? A witch of Avalon? That’ll only get worse.”
She would like to think Mordred wouldn’t try to imprison her, but…he’d already done it a few times before. She loved him, but there was no fooling herself over who he was and what he was capable of. He’d seek to “protect her” from others, or herself, or both. A golden cage was still a cage.
Or a hole in the ground.
Or burned to cinders because of Grinn.
No biggie.
TWELVE
Mordred found himself longing for sleep. That was not wholly uncommon for him—he did suffer from insomnia, after all. But this was a distinctly different kind of longing that he found himself with. No, this longing was because sleep meant the possibility of her. For only in his dreams would he ever hold her again.
