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“I don’t know where I belong. I want to stay here, mortal or not, but I don’t know where I fit in. I should just go home, that would be safer, but…” Gwen kept watching the griffins chasing after the roc. “Griffins. Dragons.”
“Then stay in Avalon. Get eaten by some flying magical predator. I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t.” And she supposed that was part of the problem. “I don’t think anybody does.” And there was the other half. Would Mordred want her to stay? Could he possibly ever forgive her for betraying him? Did he evenmissher?
Did she even matter to him at all?
Eod would miss her.
But he was a dog. That was their job.
It was her turn to sulk in silence. The path on the other side of the field turned into a climb as they made their way up the base of the mountain. “Is he far up the side?”
“No.”
Simple question, simple answer. She supposed that was fair. It was just as Grinn said—the sun was just starting to set as they came across a house in the middle of the woods. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting—a castle, a mud hut, a shack covered with bits and pieces and odds and ends. The house was an old, Tudor-style antique, with its distinctive brown beams and spackled plaster exterior. Smoke was curling up from the fireplace, giving her some hope that they hadn’t walked all that way for nothing. Someone was home.
The weirdest part about the whole thing was that the house looked—like King Arthur’s castle—as though it had just been dropped onto the mountain out of nowhere. Part of a huge boulder next to the home was sheared clean in half, as if the whole house had justappearedwhere it had no business being.
Maybe it had.
Sorcerer and all.
“You sure he isn’t Merlin?” Climbing off the back of Sunshine, Gwen tied the horse to a tree with a long stretch of rope to make sure the mare didn’t wander off. Eod was sniffing at the door, his tail idly wagging.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Grinn suddenly seemed nervous, staring at the building with his red eye warily. “Knock. Let’s get this over with.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Mages are…unpredictable. Dealing with them is always messy.” He curled his lips back in a half-snarl. “And I doubt he has any reason to do me any favors. The last time we met I may have set him on fire.”
“And you’re just mentioning thisnow?”She slapped a hand over her eyes. “Jesus fuck, Grinn. Try leading with that next time.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s your job to convince him.”
“Mine? How the hell am I supposed to convince him of anything? I don’t know him!” She threw her hands up in frustration. Sometimes, she wanted to just grab the demon and shake him. “But, fine. Fine. We came all this way.” She walked up to the door. Eod was now sitting there, tail thumping on the sorcerer’s front steps. The door was solid wood, with a hatch in the middle covered with a metal grate.
Raising her hand to knock, she jumped as the little hatch opened inward.
“Go away!” a man shouted from inside.
The hatch swung back shut with athwack.
Gwen glanced back at Grinn. The demon was just glaring at her with a grimace. He wasn’t going to be any help.
Sighing, she turned back to the door. “I’m sorry, but we’re really in need of your help.” She paused. No answer. “Mr. Wizard, sir? I know this probably isn’t a good time, but—”
The little hatch opened again. “No!”
The hatch swung back shut with another loud slap.
Rubbing her temples, Gwen decided Avalon might have lessened her issue with panic attacks, but it sure as shit seemed intent on replacing them with headaches.
Great.
This was justgreat.
“Look, I get it. I do. But we have a serious problem that only you can help us with.”
