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“My arm is fine,” she shot back. “I held a sword easily enough when I fought against your father’s forces.” She stressed the words “your father.”
“I believe it. I’m sure you did. But that’s just it,” I protested. “He’s my father. This is my...”
“Your what?” Lancelet interjected. “Your battle? Your land? Your what, Morgan?”
I licked my lips. “My responsibility. I don’t want any of you dying. No one else has to die over this.”
“No? Only you and Draven? And what happens if you fail? What happens if you don’t make it because you were too stubborn and stupid to take backup along?” Lancelet demanded.
“The woman has a point,” Hawl growled. “Seems foolish to go alone. There will be dangers. We shall face them readily, by your side.”
“Besides, you can’t exactly say no,” Lancelet countered. “Not when you’ve already said yes. Did you lie to us Morgan, when you promised you wouldn’t do this? Exactly what you’re now trying to do. Sneaking off into the night.” She shook her head in disgust. “Do promises mean nothing to you?”
“Friendships mean everything to me,” I cried. “Yours. Hawl’s. All of you mean everything to me. I need you here. I need you to be alive when we return.”
“If you return,” Lancelet said coolly.
A petite figure in pale blue robes brushed past Hawl and Lancelet.
“There’s no need to fight,” Guinevere said quietly. “You’ve made your decision, Morgan. And we’ve made ours. Where you go, I will follow. I have no other choice.”
I looked at the High Priestess uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
She met my eyes. “I mean without me, you will fail.”
My temper rose. “That seems rather presumptuous, even for you, Guinevere.”
She did not break my gaze. “Your dreams, Morgan. Your father’s attacks on your mind will only grow worse. What did he see tonight?”
I looked around the group, scanning the familiar faces.
“He saw Medra,” I confessed. “He knows she exists. I don’t know what he made of what he saw. Whether he knows of the prophecy or if he simply saw a baby and that she was important to me somehow. But it was enough. Draven and I need to leave now.”
“We all need to leave now,” Hawl agreed.
“No,” I said, still trying to argue. “That’s not what I mean.”
“We know what you mean. We also know you can’t stop us,” Guinevere said tranquilly. “Unless you plan to use force?”
The owl on her shoulder suddenly hooted and swiveled her head to look at me.
“No, of course not,” I said, with shock. “I would never...”
“Good,” the High Priestess said. “Then the matter is settled.”
“Wait. There’s still more.” I took a deep breath. “You won’t want to come. There will be no way out. We can’t stitch. We won’t. We’re not bringing Crescent. No one will be permitted to try to stitch to us either. Even if they could manage to find us. We’ve... decided that.”
“It may alert your father,” Guinevere said. “I understand. No stitching. We will get by without it.”
“Stitching. Bah. Long days on the road—that is what I look forward to. Dust-coated fur. The sweet taste of fresh meat on a fire at the end of the day. And moths. Delicious moths waiting to be swallowed, fresh and sweet in the cool evening air.” Hawl snapped their jaw enthusiastically.
I looked at Gawain. “Crescent is staying behind. Do you understand this?”
The red-headed man nodded. “He’ll act as regent for you in Pendrath.”
“And he’ll take care of Medra,” Draven said quietly, looking at Crescent who gave a reassuring nod.
“She’ll be like a second daughter to me. And I’ll keep in close contact with Lyrastra and Odessa back in Myntra, of course. Odessa will visit from time to time to assess the state of our forces. Who will continue to be maintained by our noble Master-at-Arms.” Crescent glanced at Sir Ector.
