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She glowered up at him, but he was smiling—breaking through the darkness of the moment. She couldn’t be mad at him for it. Going up on her tiptoes, she pulled him down into a kiss. When it broke, she fought the urge to cry. No—this was not goodbye. This was not the end. They would get through this. Somehow. Some way. “I love you.”
“And I love you, my firefly.” He stroked a gauntleted hand over her hair.
“What if you and I just…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t know, fight them off. Between the two of us, we could take them, right?”
“To what end?” He frowned. “You cannot leave the isle, and neither can I. We would be fugitives—hunted for all time by a pack of slavering wolves. If I am sentenced to death, and I escape, it would be only a matter of time before they won. Even I cannot take on all the elementals at once.” He chuckled morbidly. “It seems they are capable of agreeing on something, even if it is their hatred of me.”
Wiping a hand down over her face, she thought about their options. There really weren’t any. All of them were terrible. “I’m not going to let them—I can’t. I just can’t.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand gently. “There is nothing we can do at this moment in time. We must wait to see how the matter progresses.”
The Gossamer Lady floated forward, taking a place at the top of the stairs that must have once led to a throne, long since rotted away and reclaimed by nature. “We are all in attendance. We stand in judgment of Mordred, Prince in Iron, for his crimes against the elementals of Avalon. He is accused of grievous torture, imprisonment, and murder.”
“Murder?” Mordred laughed. “And who have I murdered, Gossamer Lady?”
“Lancelot, the Knight in Silver. Grinn, the Ash King. Both were elementals. Both died by your hand?—”
“Bullshit!” Gwen stepped forward. “The Lancelot thing wasn’t about him being an elemental, and you were all fucking on board with Grinn dying right up until this moment?—”
Mordred placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back to him. “Lancelot was felled in combat—in war—and there is an exception for such a thing. As for Grinn, if I am to stand accused of murder, then both you and Lady Thorn must stand trial for the conspiracy behind it.”
Zoe sighed. “All those who wish to try Mordred for the murder of Grinn, say aye.”
Silence.
Gwen let out the breath she was holding.
“As for Lancelot—” Zoe looked as though she were about to burst into tears herself. It was clear that all of this was very, very much against her nature. “There are witnesses who say that you killed him in cold blood. That he was defeated, and you took his life regardless.”
Mordred laughed. The sound of it was empty and cruel, and bounced off the stone walls around them, giving the illusion that he was everywhere. “Is this how you betray me, Galahad? Is this how you would see it done? To see me pay for the death of that traitor?”
“It was me.”
Percival.
Mordred snarled in rage and went to lunge at the Knight in Copper. Gwen got in between them, knowing that if she didn’t, Mordred would rip Percival’s throat out.
“How dare you?” Mordred shouted.
“You have grown weak. Weaker by the day. Weaker by the moment, ever since she showed up.” Percival glared at Gwen. She rolled her eyes. “If you can’t do what needs to be done, then what good are you?”
Mordred snarled and paced away, clearly doing everything in his power to calm down. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “The matter between Lancelot and me originated long before we came to Avalon. It was a matter settled by us as human men, not as elementals. He would not have stopped his efforts to see me in a grave—it was a matter of self-defense.”
Percival snorted.
Gwen fought the urge to set his underwear on fire.
Maybe later.
Definitely later.
“All those in favor of finding Mordred guilty of the murder of Lancelot, the Knight in Silver, say aye.”
Half the room, give or take, spoke up.
“All those against, say nay.”
Silence. Until Galahad lifted his head. “Nay.”
