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Galahad moved to stand beside his love, drawing his sword from his hip. When Mordred took a step forward, Galahad charged, beginning the fight. Gwen had seen the two fight before—but something about this felt…different. This wasn’t an anger-fueled knock-out fight like she had seen the night before Mordred had tried to send her to Earth.
It wasn’t choreographed either—it didn’t seem fake. But it looked like something the two of them had done many, many times as sparring partners.
Doc leaned over to murmur something to her. “The trees have eyes.”
“I figured,” she whispered back. “So…are we all going to die?”
“I honestly don’t know.” He shrugged. “For once, this is all a big black box to me. I don’t know how any of this is going to play out.”
“Really?” She blinked.
“No, of course not.” He snickered. “I know how everything plays out. But it’s more fun if we pretend I don’t.”
She really wanted to slap him upside the head. “God, I hate you sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know.” He reached into thin air and pulled out a bucket of movie popcorn. When she sighed heavily at his antics, he cackled. “What? Want some?”
“No.” She sat down on the rock next to him, listening to the sound of metal clashing with metal as the two enormous fighters sparred.
Galahad was fighting as hard as he could, now—grunting and sweating as he tried to knock Mordred off balance. But the Prince in Iron was just a little faster. Hit just a little harder. And seemed entirely unfazed. They knew each other like the backs of their own hands—and Mordred was willing to use that to his advantage.
It was only a few moments before Mordred knocked Galahad to the ground. He kicked the golden-hilted sword out of the knight’s reach. Mordred stood over him, rusted, jagged sword raised. “Goodbye, old friend.”
“Enough!” Zoe grasped the necklace she wore. Something flashed, and Mordred screamed in pain. His sword fell to the dirt with a thump.
Gwen shot up. That wasn’t faked. That was real. She knew it was part of the shitty “plan” to draw Grinn out from hiding—but watching Mordred’s expression twist into agony as he staggered and fell to his knees wasn’t part of some stupid game. “Mordred!”
Zoe kept up with the magic until Mordred doubled over, holding himself up with one elbow, the clawed gauntlet of his other hand pressed to his chest over his heart.
Gwen ran to Mordred, kneeling beside him, placing a hand on his back. “Mordred?—”
“You will pay for that, Gossamer Lady—” the Prince in Iron ground out through gritted teeth. “I will pluck your wings from your back f—” He screamed as the magic arced through him again.
“I think you will not.” Galahad picked up his sword from the grass. He stalked toward Mordred, clearly intending to kill him.
Standing, Gwen got in between the Knight in Gold and Mordred. “Stop.” She spread her leathery dragon’s wings. “Don’t make me fight you, Galahad.”
The older, taller man’s eyebrows lifted just slightly. “You?”
“I—I didn’t say I knew how to fight you—” she stammered. “But I’ll try.”
He chuckled, his expression turning warm, the creases at the corners of his eyes deepening just a little. “I do not wish to harm you, Lady Gwendolyn. Please stand aside.”
“No. For the same reason you’d never stand aside if Zoe was in danger. I love him, Galahad—and I won’t let you, or anyone else, hurt him.” She clenched her fists at her sides. “Not while I’m still standing.”
She didn’t know if this screwed up their ploy or not. But it was an honest response to the situation, wasn’t it? And…maybe Galahad and Zoe had changed their minds. Maybe they preferred that Mordred die. She didn’t know who her friends really were, of those present. Except Eod, and potentially Doc.
Everything was confusing. Everything was terrible.
And it didn’t seem like the plan to trick Grinn out of the caves was even going to work.
“If you harm her—” Mordred’s voice was shaky. The pain he was in was very, very real. “I will never let you rest, Galahad—not in this world or the next. No god, no fairy magic, no veil of death, would save you from my wrath.”
“We shall see, prince.” Galahad took a step forward.
Gwen raised her hand, about to do…something. She didn’t know what. Maybe a wall of ice? Or fire? Or trees? Something, anything, to slow down the Knight in Gold.
But she never had to make up her mind.
