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And it was that realization that made her mind wander to Mordred. Her heart suddenly ached, and she turned her gaze in the direction of his keep. Wrapping her arms around herself, she frowned.
She felt terrible for what she had done. Had it been the right decision? Was it only going to lead inevitably to death and war? Or had she given Avalon a second chance? She supposed only time would tell.
But one thing was certain. She wished she could ask the Prince in Iron for advice, which was hysterical given the circumstances.He’d know what to do. He always knows what to do. Too bad I don’t think we’re exactly on speaking terms right now.And she didn’t blame him. She had betrayed him—tricked him—and poisoned him with a muffin laced with sleeping powder.
If anything, he probably wanted to kill her or imprison her. Or worse. She didn’t know what “worse” was, but she was pretty sure he’d figure something out.
Letting out a breath, she turned away from the keep and began to walk in the opposite direction. No, no matter how hard she wished she could just hug him and beg for forgiveness, to feel his kiss and hear his deep, rumbling voice, she had slammed the door on that. It was her fault, not his, that she was on her own now.
God, she missed him.
Letting out a long sigh, she shook her head, only idly wondering where she was going. It didn’t really matter, she supposed. Away from the keep. Away from the mess she’d made. And away from Mordred.
Something rustled up in the branches, and she stopped to see what it was. A large lizard, the size of an iguana but resembling a bright teal gecko, was staring down at her. Spines jutted out from its back like a porcupine. It raised them in a wave before flattening them down, which Gwen assumed was some kind of freaky lizard warning. It flicked out its tongue into the air like a snake.
She smiled. “Oh, hey there little buddy. Little being relative.”
It watched her, curious but wary, and turned its head to the side to peer at her with a bright purple eye.
“Aw, you’re cute.” She chuckled.
It ran off, leaving her alone once more. Then loneliness hit her, as fast and hard as a train. She wanted to ask Mordred all about the weird lizard and the frog-shrub. She wanted him to give her a tour of the new world, to show her all of Avalon the way it was supposed to be. Y’know, before he ruined it. Or saved it. Jury was still out.
She sighed.
How long until I bump into somebody? I hope they’re friendly. Is that too much to ask?
It was another hundred yards before she got her answer.
More or less.
“Where do you think you’re going?” It was a gruff voice, coming from behind her.
Turning, she blinked. She knew the voice, but she certainly didn’t recognize the man that stood before her. He was a little over six feet, his skin was the texture it has when people spend a long life out in the sun and blistering weather. She knew a few farmers who looked like that as they got on in years—the decades of hard labor catching up to them. The man had salt and pepper hair with a black beard. There was a long, jagged scar that took up the left side of his face, the eye that it crossed being white and sightless. And he looked extremely cranky.
Oh, shit.
Gwen stared. “Merlin? Is that…you?”
“Who else would it be?” He rolled his good eye.
“What do you mean? I thought—” To be fair, she hadn’t checked to see if she still had her fiery powers. One glance at the color of her hair told her that yeah, she did. She had been trying to grapple with how wild and magical the world looked and she hadn’t really thought about it. “Wasn’t this supposed to give you your powers back? Why are you a human now?”
Judging by how angry he looked, something told her things didn’t exactly go as planned. Her shoulders drooped.
Merlin grimaced. “Come on, we have work to do.” With no further explanation, he started walking away.
“Where are we going?” She followed after him.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“But what’re we doing?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She stopped walking and folded her arms over her chest. “I blew up the Iron Crystal for you. I feel like I’m owed an explanation.”
With a ragged, annoyed sigh, he turned to face her. “You didn’t do anything. Mordred blew up the Crystal. And you didn’t do it forme,you did it forLancelot.”He said the name both overdramatically and somehow full of revulsion at the same time.
