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“But I will aid you in finding those who will. However, our kind is still scattered to the winds—confused and picking up the pieces of their former lives. I suspect it will be challenging to gather the elementals until more time has passed.”
“The longer we wait to attack him, the more time he has to resurrect his own legions.” Lancelot grimaced. He had only ever fought beside Mordred’s iron army—and that had been horrifying enough.
“I agree. Therefore, I recommend we divide our strengths. You should work on gathering up more mundane forces while I work to convince the strongest of our kind.” Zoe gazed out at the woods beyond her home.
It was a simple, two-room house that was modest by most standards, but Lancelot found it perfectly suited for the butterfly. Fresh and drying flowers filled the air with the constant sweet smell of the ground in full bloom. She was like life itself—so far away from the cold, dreadful keep and its overbearing master to which he had been enslaved.
It was no wonder that Galahad loved her so.
“But I feel you will need assistance. More than simply what I can provide.” She hesitated. “You know who I am referencing.”
Lancelot sighed. “Please, anyone buthim.”
“You really must learn to forgive him for what he did to you. That was hundreds of years ago—and it was only a childish prank.” Zoe chuckled. “It was quite amusing.”
“For everyonebutme.”
“That is the point of a prank, yes.”
Lancelot rubbed a hand over his face. “Why do we need to speak tohim?”
Zoe looked off into the distance again thoughtfully. As if listening to the world around her. Lancelot did not fully understand the depths of her power, he suspected she did not either. But Zoe was the kind who simply accepted the way of things and did not question them.
And so, he followed her lead.
“He has guests. Important guests. Ones I think you will wish to intercept.”
Lancelot fought the urge to groan. He also knew better than to ask who it was specifically. “Well, then. No time like the present.”
* * *
Gwen walked into the wizard’s home and fought to keep her mouth from hitting the floor. Unlike the man himself the inside of the home was precisely what she expected from a wizard. There wasstuffeverywhere. Bookshelves were cluttered with objects, crammed floor to ceiling with stacks of things. Some books, scrolls, stacks of paper, either loose or bound into bundles. Jars and bits and pieces. Swords, knives, crystal balls, jars of sticks and leaves. Some things were actually glowing.
And one jar of eyes was distinctly watching her.
She decided at exactly that moment she wasn’t going to touch anything.
The sorcerer brushed past her into the room. Eod was sniffing a plant, tail wagging. The strange man hummed. “Yes, good nose. That does come from the eastern region by the big green lake.”
“Wait. Can you talk to him?” Gwen blinked.
“Of course. What kind of mage would I be if I couldn’t talk to animals?” He sat down on a stool in front of a desk, his back to her, and picked up a pencil.
“That’s awesome.” She chuckled. “I wish I could talk to animals.”
“No, you don’t. Do you know how very loud the world is when you can understand bird songs?” He huffed. “Loud and extremely horny things, birds are.”
That made her laugh. “How long have you been on Avalon? You talk like someone from modern-day Earth.”
“I honestly couldn’t tell you. I don’t know. I don’t know where I came from, when, or…” He paused, looking up from his work briefly. “Literally anything about myself. It’s quite inconvenient at parties.”
“Wait. What?”
“I could have arrived here thirty thousand years ago, or thirty seconds ago.” He shrugged and ran a hand over his unkempt hair. “So don’t bother asking for details.”
“Do you even know your name?”
“Nope.”
