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Gwen slapped a hand over her eyes. And only had one thing she could say.
“Fuck.”
* * *
Mordred landed with a deafeningka-thud.
The grass in the clearing blew over with the force of his dragon’s wings. “Tiny” was now his name, for better or worse. Likely worse.Only one person would name my great and fearsome beast something so entirely insulting.
With a quiet sigh, he looked out at the landscape. It was lush and green, with flowers blooming in every color. Birds were chirping and singing their songs of spring, reveling in the return of the seasons. He turned his attention to the clearing next to the glade where he knew he would find the elemental he had come looking for.
It was undeniably breathtaking.
And it meant chaos, war, and death.
Soon enough, the warmongering elementals would start their bids for power once more, not caring for those who were slaughtered or the destruction of homes and villages. But that was the least of his concern. Because amongst them, hiding somewhere on the isle, was Grinn—the demon and so-called Ash King.
Finding and stopping him was Mordred’s first motive—all the rest had to wait.
It gave him a good reason to allow the elementals to choose their paths forward. Would they seek to war with each other once more? Would they rally against him, unified against a common enemy? Or would they sensibly choose peace? Simply pick up the pieces of their ragged lives and appreciate the freedom he had granted them by smashing open the Crystal?
It had not been much of his choice at all, he had to admit. It had been in a fit of rage and pain that he had destroyed the Crystal. But now that the deed was done, and the magic had been freed, it would be dishonorable for him to immediately seek its return to a new prison.
No, he would have to give the elementals achance.A chance to either prove their newfound wisdom or to flaunt this opportunity back in his face and seek war.
He would not be the one to start the bloodshed.
While he would never live up to the legend of his uncle, Mordred was not that much of a tyrant.
Though many would choose to argue.
He dismounted his dragon, patting the creature on the neck. He knew the elemental he had come to see would not harm him. Even if she was not notoriously peaceful, always choosing to play the diplomat, the simple fact remained that while he was in his iron armor, shecould notharm him. None of the elementals could. It was his “unnatural state of being” that spurned the elementals to hate and distrust him, to turn against him.
Heading into the glade, his mind returned to the topic at hand. The Gossamer Lady was respected and nearly revered by all the others—she was ancient and powerful, though one would hardly guess at first blush. It felt wrong to storm her doorstep, so soon after she had returned to it.
Yet, if there was anyone in Avalon who would be able to help him locate the demon, it would be her.
But there was another reason why he felt more than a little guilty for barging in on the Gossamer Lady. For while she might be pleased to see a knight enter her home, he was not the one she would be wishing for.
No, it would be the Knight in Gold that she would far prefer.
They were wed, after all. Perhaps not in name—but in all other ways that mattered.
Mordred stopped at the edge of a pond that was covered with flowering lily pads. He could see the flash of brightly colored fish, some spotted in orange and red, some white, some blue. Dragonflies flitted about from reed to reed, flower to flower. Sitting on a rock in the center of the pond was the woman he had come to see.
She seemed to shimmer and glow with the world around her. She was running a brush along her straight black hair, humming quietly as she did. Long, delicate wings like a butterfly’s were folded at her back, the ends just barely touching the water.
She wore a sheer dress of pale blue that gathered and folded around her.
He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Hello, Zoe. Galahad sends his love.”
THREE
“Do you come to injure me, Prince in Iron?”
Mordred frowned, though he was not surprised. “No.”
