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“I don’t care.”
Yep, there was the annoyance and anger back again. “I came here because I want to help you, Grinn—because I don’t want to see you die. I’m trying to be your friend because I do care. Because I’ve been here, trying to help you, since the moment we met!”
“You helped me because you have a pathetic need to be loved. You always came to me, whining and whimpering, complaining about some new tragedy in your pathetic mortal life. You wanted so desperately for your ‘stray cat’ to care about you.” Grinn stepped closer to her, his lips pulling back in a grimace. “And I never have. Not once. Every second you spend in my presence I wish you nothing but suffering. I simply needed you. And I no longer do. Leave me be!”
Gwen was shaking with rage and hurt in equal measure. “Fine. I will find a way to stop you.”
“You have no time. My preparations are nearly complete. I will detonate this island before the night falls tomorrow. So, unless you manage to summon the ability to undo demonic magic within the next thirty-six hours?” He sneered. “I think your time is better spent praying to whatever god you think will listen or sucking the cock of that idiot boyfriend of yours.”
“Whatever.” She turned on her heel and began walking away. “I’m done being insulted by you.”
“Something tells me that isn’t true.”
She walked back into the darkness, no longer afraid she wouldn’t be able to find her way out. “Fuck you, Grinn.”
She listened to his laughter fade as she headed back toward the entrance of the cave.
And felt every ounce of hope she had for saving him fall away as she did.
Mordred stopped his horse as a familiar, yet unexpected figure was standing in the center of a clearing in front of him. He had left the main road and taken one of the thinner hunting trails that wound up to the entrance of the cave that Lady Thorn had directed him to. It had been Thorn he expected to meet here.
Not who he had instead found.
He narrowed his eyes. “Wizard? Why are you here?”
“Not getting involved, but also getting involved, but trying not to get involved.” The other man shrugged. He scratched at the beard on his face that was stubble that had been allowed to get a few days out of control. “But getting involved, anyway.”
“One of these days, it might behoove you to speak sense. Just once, perhaps. You might find that you enjoy it.” Mordred disliked wasting time with the wizard, but it at least spared him from his own circular thoughts.
“I’m speaking perfect sense. You just choose not to understand me. That’s your problem not mine.” The mage shrugged. “Whatever. I’m going to just stand here and talk to you for a little while.”
“Why?” Mordred arched his eyebrow.
The other man fished something out of the pocket of his faded blue robe. It looked like a pocket watch—one of the strange new devices that Mordred had seen on Earth before he had closed the gates. “Because I’m stalling for time.”
“For… what, precisely?”
“To let them finish talking.”
Mordred shut his eyes. He was always an inch away from throttling the eccentric magic-user. “Goodbye, wizard. I have business to attend.” He nudged his horse to a walk, intending to simply go around the other man.
“No, no. Hey, hold on. Like—another minute. Maybe two. They’re taking their sweet time.” The wizard sniffed dismissively.
“If you do not tell me who we are waiting for, I am leaving.” Mordred pulled his stallion to a stop again. The iron animal was displeased by the waiting, and he dug his hoof into the dirt angrily, kicking up a few rocks. “I will not bother to explain to you the importance of what I am here to do, since you already know.”
“Great.” It was clear the other man was not listening to him. He did not even bother to look up from his watch. Mordred shut his eyes, fighting the urge to smack the man. Or have his stallion trample him.
“Am I meant to simply stand here like a fool and wait, while you will not tell me why? I have tolerated your eccentricities on enough occasions. I demand that you?—”
“Yeah, yeah.” The other man waved his hand dismissively. “Just hold on a sec, will you?”
“No, I shall not ‘just hold on a sec,’ I?—”
“Aaaaand—” The mage lifted his finger. “Here we go.”
A barking from the woods caught Mordred’s attention. He shifted in the saddle as a dog—a very familiar dog—ran from the woods.
It was not possible.
