Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

MORDRED

Realm of Avalon

"If anyone can tell me just how long all of this is going to take, that'd be great," Mordred said as he leaned up against the wall outside the room in the far reaches of the dungeons beneath the palace.

"We don't know," Jinayca said, looking up from a brightly glowing rune on the floor. "This whole place is like walking through a minefield, blindfolded, while occasionally stopping to perform a dance routine."

"Nice image," Mordred said.

"I have a dozen dwarves in here with me," Jinayca said. "I know how much everyone wants this realm gate to work so we can go to Atlantis and stop Arthur, but the longer I stand here talking to you, the less likely that is."

"You want me to go away?" Mordred asked with mock indignation.

"Yes, piss off and find someone else to bother," Jinayca said with a smile.

Mordred laughed. "Yeah, okay." He walked away. He'd been searching through the palace to ensure that none of the old guard remained in charge, but it seemed that they'd all fled to the hospital in the east, and apparently Nate and those with him had everything well under control. It had left Mordred with very little to do, but he had the feeling that he should be doing something.

It took him a while to retrace his steps out of the dungeon, which was a twisty maze of a place. Twice he found himself down a corridor with cells on either side. He looked through the slats in the metal door on the first cell and saw the blood inside, lit by a light-blue crystal in the ceiling. A lot of people have been killed here.

He eventually found himself in the throne room. The room was gigantic, with high ceilings and beautiful artwork depicting knights in shining armor, the paladins in their golden armor, and Arthur slaying all before him. In one particularly ostentatious piece, Arthur had slain a dragon and had one foot on the creature's neck, while a woman who at best was barely clothed was draped around his legs like a limpet. Mordred laughed the first time he saw it, as well as the second, and then it stopped being funny. He used his light magic to burn it to ashes and felt better for it.

At one point there had been a large circular table inside the throne room. Unlike in the stories, there were, in fact, three round tables. Merlin had had one placed in the throne room to remind visitors that Camelot's law was always there. Mordred remembered the time he'd returned to Camelot after his mind had been shattered, and he'd buried an ax in one of the tables, although he couldn't remember which one. They all looked the same to him.

The table itself was far too small to fit every single knight, but that wasn't really the point. Despite how the round table was meant to make everyone seated there equal, there was a large black metal chair that was very clearly the head of the table. Arthur still wanting to let everyone know he was in charge at every opportunity.

Mordred sat in the chair and sighed. All this would have to go. All the memories of Arthur, of those who followed him, of those who had murdered and pillaged in his name. Mordred wondered if they could just burn the entire palace down and start again. Maybe this time with something that wasn't so obviously screaming I'm better than you to anyone nearby. He felt the same way about the palace in Shadow Falls, but at least that one was home to vast numbers of people who lived in the realm. The palace in Camelot was just a shell of power. An illusion to keep people in check. Even when Elaine had ruled over Avalon, it was never really her palace, as Merlin had liked to point out whenever possible.

Mordred closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. He missed his aunt. She had been a constant level of calm in the rough seas that were Mordred's life. Even when he was trying to kill everyone, even in his darkest, most evil times, she'd been willing to help. She'd tried for centuries to find a cure. "If you could see me now," he said to himself.

"Everyone is looking for you," Hel told him from the doorway.

Mordred nodded. "I went to see Jinayca. We're stuck here for the moment."

"I know," Hel said.

"I am anxious," Mordred said, opening his eyes. "I do not like being anxious. It makes me want to find a dark room to hide in until everything is done. It's not very king-like to hide while everyone else is busy."

"So be busy."

"No one is letting me," Mordred said with a protracted sigh. "Everyone keeps calling me Your Majesty and telling me that there are people to do that job. I am getting fed up with being told there are people to do things that I want to do."

"That kind of goes with the territory, I'm afraid," Hel said, taking a seat next to Mordred.

"I came here expecting a fight," Mordred said. "I expected a prelude to the battle in Atlantis. What I got was a lot of dead bad guys, a lot more wanting to surrender, and the rest running away. None of that feels particularly satisfying. We have taken Avalon with a whimper."

"You wanted bloodshed?" Hel asked, fully aware of Mordred's answer.

"No, of course not," Mordred said. "I wanted closure. I wanted to see this fucking table burned to dust. I wanted to see that fucking throne rammed so far up Arthur's arse that he was literally always sat down. I wanted to be able to punch people in the face and laugh at them when they fell down."

"Really?" Hel asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, not really," Mordred said. "I just wanted ... something. Instead, I've got people telling me it's all in hand, and I should go have a cup of tea or something. That's the other thing—nowhere in this fucking palace is a goddamn kettle. I can't even find tea bags in the kitchen. It's like they were all bloody savages. Who doesn't own any tea bags? What kind of people don't drink bloody tea?"

"You done?" Hel asked with a smirk.

"Probably," Mordred said, throwing his arms in the air and taking a deep breath. "I haven't been here for centuries. The last time I was here, it didn't end well for anyone. I was apprehensive about having to come back, and now that I'm here, I just wanted something to feel like everything is worthwhile, you know?"

Hel nodded. "I do. I don't want you to think that people are coddling you. I think they just want you to relax because they think they're helping."

"They're not," Mordred said.

"I know this, and most people who know you well enough understand that too," Hel said, kissing the back of Mordred's hand. "But people out there now see you as a king. And when the king is walking around asking people if he can help tidy up and if he can help heal anyone injured, it goes over really well, but it also makes people nervous."

Mordred chuckled. "I make people nervous." He shook his head with amusement. "I guess that will have to do. Let's go back outside and find out how Nate's doing. There's a fair few people who ran off that way, and I don't want any more clashes between Avalon supporters and those people who'd like to murder Avalon supporters. One side has a lot of grudges, and the other side are just arseholes."

"They executed a lot of people," Hel said. "I think anger from the populace is going to be a serious problem. We need to show them that we're not Arthur and his people. We need to show them that King Mordred is a good king. How about we head over to the district—you can see how Nate is doing, and we can let the people see you?"

"I do not enjoy being shown around," Mordred said.

"And I do not enjoy having to hunt you down because you're bored and don't know what to do with yourself, so how about we do my thing so I don't have to put a GPS tag on you?"

"It won't work here," Mordred muttered.

"What was that?" Hel asked, with a smile that Mordred knew well.

"Nothing," he said quickly.

Hel kissed Mordred on the lips. "Thought so."

The pair left the throne room and made their way through the palace to the outside, where they met Persephone and Brynhildr. The former was talking to three soldiers, and the latter was currently dragging a man by his ankle across the ground toward them.

"That's not how you usually move people," Mordred said as he walked to the bottom of the steps outside the palace.

"He threw a punch at me," Brynhildr said. "He's lucky he still has his arms."

Mordred noticed that the man appeared to be semiconscious, and his face was a mangled mess. "Nice work," he said.

Brynhildr dropped the man's leg, and two soldiers immediately ran over from nearby, dragged the man upright, and applied a sorcerer's band to his wrist.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Hel said.

"I kind of expected a fight," Brynhildr told her. "My Valkyries came here for a fight. We've mostly just been making sure that those who rose up against their oppressors are safe. Occasionally, we run across Avalon employees who think they can take a shot at us. It does not end well for them."

"We're going to the lower quarter," Mordred said. "You want to join us? We'll be seeing how Nate is doing too."

"Well, nothing exploded yet, so I'm going to guess it's either going really well or really badly," Brynhildr said.

"Have you been back to Valhalla?" Hel asked Brynhildr as the three of them started to walk through the city.

"Yes," Brynhildr said sadly. "Briefly. It's a mess there. We've brought pretty much everyone out to live in Shadow Falls for now, but with the combined population of Valhalla, Asgard, and Shadow Falls itself, it's not a long-term solution. Asgard is destroyed; apparently the realm gate won't even accept Asgard as a destination. Valhalla is still somewhere we can live, but a lot needs to be done first."

"You could move to another realm," Mordred said.

"It's something we're going to need to look into once this is all done," Brynhildr said. "For now, we will be satisfied with doing our jobs and trying to help."

"Have you noticed there aren't any Faceless here?" Mordred asked. The Faceless were the masked bodyguards of the most powerful members of Avalon society. They were completely loyal and would do whatever they were commanded to do, which in Mordred's opinion usually involved something unpleasant.

"Now that you mention it, it's pretty weird," Hel said. "We haven't seen any in years. Maybe they got rid of them."

"I hope so," Mordred said.

They hadn't gone far when they heard the shouts of several soldiers as they ordered someone to stop.

"We should check this out," Mordred said and was already making his way toward the group before anyone could tell him otherwise.

A rider had pulled their horse up by half a dozen soldiers and gotten down before Mordred reached them.

"I need to come in," Athena demanded. Blood drenched her arm, where there were several nasty cuts.

"Athena?" Mordred asked, and everyone stopped shouting at once and moved aside. "What are you doing here?"

"Arthur kept me as a prisoner here," Athena stammered. "I escaped, got to the mountain, but there's something there. Something attacked those you sent. Sky sent me back here. I was already hurt; I couldn't keep fighting. Never seen anything like it. It attacked us, killed several guards. They're fighting it off right now, but they need help. Piper was hurt. Badly."

"You need healing," Mordred said, stepping forward.

"No," Athena snapped. "Sorry, you're going to need your power to help those at the mountain. I'll heal soon enough; I've had worse. But they need help. Fast."

"Get people ready to ride," Mordred said to Brynhildr and Hel. "I'll take this horse and head out there now." Mordred climbed up onto the large black stallion. "Athena, please go and rest."

Athena nodded. "These cuts are already healing. The creature there, it did something to the minds of the soldiers, made them attack one another. My sister is there; she needs help."

"You stay," Brynhildr said. "Once you're healed, head back, but right now, you're just going to get yourself more injured."

Athena didn't look happy about the advice, but she nodded solemnly anyway and walked away to take a seat against the wall of the palace.

"Everyone else, get ready to follow," Mordred said.

Mordred was soon on his way, riding the stallion as hard as he dared across the plains toward the mountain—and a threat so dangerous it could make Athena unnerved.

The ride took longer than Mordred would have liked, but he reached the mountain to find pandemonium. Half a dozen guards all brandished weapons at him. There were multiple dead horses on the ground, and several more had seemingly run away and were busy eating the grass in the distance.

"It's me," Mordred said and then remembered he was a king. "Put those fucking things away unless you want me to see how good you are at dodging blades of ice."

"Mordred," Layla shouted from a nearby carriage. "It's Piper. It's bad."

"Athena told me," Mordred said, swinging down from the horse. "She said there was some kind of monster who attacked you all."

"What?" Chloe asked, her head snapping around to Mordred. Her arms were covered in blood, and her eyes were bloodshot and teary. Mordred's gaze settled on Piper, who was pale and looked weak as she lay up against a carriage wheel. She was drenched in blood, and there was a cut on her neck that looked deep and dangerous.

"What the fuck happened?" Mordred asked, his light magic igniting as he knelt beside Piper and placed his hands on her neck.

"Athena happened," Chloe said, barely keeping the rage and hate from her voice.

"Wait, what?" Mordred asked, removing his hands from the wound. "What the hell caused this?"

"We don't know," Judgement said. "The runes are keeping her alive, but we're fighting a losing battle. I don't understand why my sister would do this."

"You say that Athena did this?" Mordred asked.

"She attacked me," Medusa said. A cut on her cheek hadn't healed. "We arrived here to ensure no Avalon sympathizers were hiding out here; we found Athena. She looked injured. She wanted to show us something, a creature, she said. Something dangerous. She killed three of the soldiers with me and did this to me."

"I do not believe that my sister could have done this," Judgement said, more to herself.

"Well, fucking believe it," Chloe snapped, before turning to Mordred. "Save her. Please."

Mordred turned back to Chloe. "I'm going to give it my best, but I need to know what did this. And I'm guessing it's the same thing that cut open Medusa's cheek."

Medusa nodded. "She has a dagger, white wooden handle."

"I remember it," Mordred said.

"Basilisk-tooth blade," Medusa said.

"Are you sure?" Mordred asked, flashing back to the memory of Elaine's murder with the same type of black-bladed weapon at the hands of Lancelot. "They're one-shot-and-done knives. The blade dissolves after use."

"Only if it kills the victim with the first strike," Medusa said. "The blade needs to enter the body totally for the poison to be injected. Athena only used the edges of the weapon; the poison is weaker there, but obviously opening up her neck with a blade designed to not let her heal will eventually kill her."

"Piper will die if someone doesn't do something," Chloe snapped.

Layla placed a hand on Chloe's shoulder and squeezed.

"Right, well, we know what we're dealing with," Mordred said. He had been unable to save his aunt, the wounds already too grave, the poison inside the blade already injected into her body. He'd held her as she'd died, and there had been nothing he could do about it. He would be damned before he let that happen again.

Mordred picked up a dagger from the ground and passed it over the palm of his hand. He placed his hands together and ignited the blood magic, feeling the swirl of power, of need, that hit him. Blood magic was addictive, and a long time ago Mordred's dependence on it had been one of many reasons that he hadn't been of sound mind. He no longer needed blood magic, he no longer craved it, but whenever he used it, he still felt that rush of desire.

"This might not feel great," Mordred said. "In fact, this is going to suck."

Piper looked at him and placed a bloody hand on his. She was ready.

"You're braver than I am," Mordred told her and placed his hands against her neck.

Piper's eyes rolled up into her head, and her body began to convulse.

"Mordred," Chloe shouted. "You're killing her."

Mordred ignored her and continued to use his blood magic to pour power into the wound. Layla grabbed hold of Chloe, dragging her away as she screamed at Mordred. Mordred was lost in the maelstrom of sound that reverberated inside his head. He looked down at Piper, who continued to shake as pain racked his hands, traveling up his arms.

Hel arrived with Brynhildr and two dozen soldiers. Mordred wanted to say something, to make this stop, but he couldn't find the words. All he had was pain that traveled up his arms into his chest, his breathing labored and slow, his mind foggy. And like the crack of a whip, he jolted to one side and vomited all over the ground.

"Get out of my fucking way," Chloe snapped. Tego stayed away from the group but watched intently, ready to involve herself should it become necessary.

"Enough!" Mordred's voice boomed around them all, reverberating off every surface as his air magic pushed the words out hard enough that it forced anyone around him to take a step away.

Mordred's light magic ignited, and he placed his hands on a weak Piper, healing the wound in moments. She opened her eyes at Mordred and took his hand in hers.

"Do not try to move," he said. "You are weak, and there is nothing I can do about that."

Mordred got to his feet and looked down at the black vomit that had left him. "The poison is gone, so I could heal the wound. Do you need something similar, Medusa?"

Medusa stared at Mordred for several seconds before shaking her head. "No, I'm not in danger. Venom hurts, but it won't kill me. The wounds have stopped bleeding; they just hurt. Besides, I don't want what you just did. No offense."

"Blood magic doesn't play nice," Mordred said as Hel grabbed hold of him.

"You're swaying," Hel told him.

"That's nice," Mordred said with a smile. "I need a sandwich. With meat. Lots of meat. And beer. I need beer and a meat sandwich."

"We can do that," Hel said with a warm laugh.

Chloe had rushed back to Piper's side and was kneeling beside her. She looked up at Mordred with tears in her eyes. "Thank you. I'm so ..."

"I know," Mordred said, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past her. "I know."

"I need to get back to the palace," Mordred said.

"You need to sit down," Brynhildr told him.

"Or fall down," Tarron said. "I think it's your choice at this point."

Mordred shook his head, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Athena is in that city, and we have to find out what she's up to."

"Where would she go, and what's she trying to do?" Hel asked.

"I have no idea," Mordred said. "But I want her found, and whatever her plans are, I want them stopped. Someone find Nate. He needs to know what's going on."

"I wish to have words with my sister," Judgement said, her voice iron cold. "Something is wrong here."

Mordred nodded to himself. Something was very wrong.