Chapter 22

Gwen had no other brilliant idea except to just walk. She didn't know where she was going, she was doing some weird kind of lucid magic-dreaming by herself. But she didn't have anything else to do. So she picked a direction and just went.

And with nobody else to talk to, she did the most logical thing. She talked to herself.

"All right. So. I need to wake up. But then what?" The dream landscape had taken her to the parking lot of a mall that she used to frequent. She kicked a small, loose chunk of sidewalk, sending it skittering in front of her. "How do I stop Mordred? Do I even want to?"

That was silly, of course she did.

"I get it. Zoe probably has to die. Probably." There was likely no way around that one. The Gossamer Lady had skewered Mordred like a kebab with what had theoretically been his own sword at one time. If pressed, Gwen would admit it was the right call, even if she hated what it would do to Galahad.

It was the Knight in Gold whose death she didn't think she could stomach. Mordred had been right about that—if she had to watch it happen, there was no way she couldn't get involved. There was a good chance that Galahad would prefer death over living without the love of his life.

But it just didn't feel right.

As for all the other elementals? They probably viewed Zoe with a mix of fear and loyalty. And Gwen had to admit that she herself hadn't won any favors with them since her time in Avalon. Siding with Mordred would do that.

But that didn't mean they should all die.

If she did manage to become queen, though, that would be her problem to solve. She'd need to find some way to try to keep the peace without damning everyone to an eternity trapped inside the Iron Crystal or sentencing them to death.

There had to be a way. There had to be. That was why Avalon had chosen her, she was sure of it. If anybody was going to be able to figure it out, it'd be her. Not like she had any clue about where to start. Hopefully, it'd come to her when she needed it.

That didn't solve her immediate problem, though. She was asleep. And if she waited for Mordred to wake her up, the massacre would be done. Walking through the dream, she transitioned from the mall parking lot to a campsite she used to frequent with her family. There was a small river with a rocky cliff along one side, and she used to love to follow the trail along the river, skipping stones across the surface when it was calm enough.

She felt like Winnie the Pooh. "Think, think, think!"

A heavy, beleaguered sigh came from the cliff above her. "I'm afraid to say that's something you're clearly not capable of doing. You might as well give up."

She knew that voice. Stopping in her tracks, she looked up. And there, perched atop the cliff, lying like a panther on a branch, was a huge, catlike demon. Two glowing red eyes peered down at her.

Grinn.

It was Grinn.

But he was whole. He had his horns, his eyes, his fangs. His lion-esque tail flicked in annoyance, the tuft of hair at the end thumping against the rock.

"This—this isn't possible. You're not real. This is a dream."

The demon shrugged and peered off into the dream, his lip curling in disgust. "Certainly not one of mine."

"You're dead."

"I died. That part is accurate."

"Are you—are you really here?" Gwen couldn't help but gape in disbelief. Even in the dream, she felt her heart race. Was it possible? "Did you make it back to hell?"

"If I said I did, would you believe me?"

Thinking about it for a moment, she shook her head. "You could just be my mind telling me what I want to hear."

"And if I told you I was just a figment of your idiotic mind, what then?"

"I'd probably think you were really Grinn but that you were fucking with me." She shrugged. "So I guess it doesn't matter if you're real or not, I wouldn't believe you."

"Exactly. So don't waste my time on stupid questions." He stood, stretching, his long claws digging into the rock, leaving trenches in the stone. "What foolish mess have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"Mordred has lost his mind. He—wait—wouldn't you already know this if you're part of my dream?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Or, you think I wouldn't know, so I don't." He shook his head with a heavy sigh, smoke curling from his nostrils. He sat, wrapping his tail around his front feet. Paws? Hands? They were kind of both, she supposed.

"Right." She placed her own hands over her eyes. "I'm betting this is just my inner sarcastic self-loathing taking the shape of the asshole demon to talk myself through what's going on."

"Whatever makes you happy. Now, will you hurry it up? I hate you, and I want to be done with inane conversation as soon as possible." That sounded like Grinn, all right.

"After you died, Zoe took Mordred prisoner. He stood trial. And was condemned to being imprisoned in the Iron Crystal."

Grinn burst out laughing. A kind of real, jovial humor that she'd never heard from the demon. But she supposed that tracked. He'd love Mordred's suffering, that was easy to predict. "That is amazing. Of course I wasn't around to see it. Avalon wouldn't do me that favor. Instead, I had to die with you slobber-crying all over me."

Rolling her eyes, she tried not to be offended. "Yeah, sorry I felt bad that you died."

"You should be."

Yeah, he made her want to scream. "If you're an illusion, I've really got your personality pegged. Couldn't I have dreamed up a slightly nicer version of you?"

He huffed. "You're a moron, but you never were good at lying to yourself."

"Thanks?" Why did she have to summon up the vision of the asshole demon? Now and then, she had to admit, he gave decent advice, even if he did it in the worst way possible. "Anyway. Mordred was losing his mind in the Crystal, so I went off to free him. In the process I managed to piss off Zoe and Galahad. Zoe wants to be queen because, apparently, she was the ruler here before Arthur arrived."

Grinn waved a hand, indicating she needed to speed up.

God, she wanted to throw a rock at him. "I freed Mordred, but now he's intent on murdering all the elementals on the island. Zoe almost killed him with Caliburn?—"

"I thought I destroyed that damnable sword."

"You did. She brought it back."

Grinn huffed. "Nothing ever stays dead around here." He lay back down on the edge of the rocky cliff with a thwumf. "Except for me. Proof this island truly has a grudge."

She picked up where she left off as though he hadn't interrupted. "Zoe almost killed Mordred with Caliburn, and I had to make a deal with Avalon. I agreed to become queen if they saved him."

He snorted. "Never mind. I'm glad I died, if this place wants you in charge."

"I wish I knew if you were really here or not." She frowned, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. "I'm sorry you died. I know it's stupid, but I kind of miss you. I guess I can only hope you made it back to your family."

"You're right. You are stupid. But this isn't news."

Whatever. "Mordred betrayed me. This ring is enchanted." She held up her hand, showing off the cursed item in question. "He knocked me out and trapped me here while he goes off and massacres everyone."

"And you, predictably, want to stop him." Grinn sighed in annoyance and rolled onto his side, not even caring enough to talk to her while upright. "Have you ever stopped to consider that he might be right?"

"Yeah. I have. And I still think he's wrong."

"Because a child knows better how to rule Avalon than a man who has lived here for over a thousand years."

"I thought you hated him?"

"I can hate you both."

She shook her head. "I clearly need therapy if my brain made you up." She started walking away from him, not wanting to continue to stand there and be berated by the ghost of Grinn, whether he was in her head or not.

There was a rustle from behind her, and the ka-thud of a heavy animal landing beside her told her that Grinn wasn't done mocking her.

"If you're going to be an asshole, can you at least be a useful asshole and help me?"

"Cranky, aren't you?"

"I've had a bad time of it lately. Honestly? Ever since you brought me to Avalon, things have been a shitshow. I love Mordred. I really do. But all my friends are dead, or gone, or probably about to die. And it's all your fucking fault."

"Would you trade it all to go home again?"

It took her a second to admit it out loud. With a heavy sigh, she replied, "No."

"Then quit whining."

Maybe she didn't miss Grinn at all, now that she thought about it. Picking up a handful of pebbles from the riverbank, she started tossing them into the water idly as she walked. They went in silence for a while, Gwen having to glance over her shoulder occasionally to see if he was still with her.

"Why're you following me?" She raised an eyebrow. "If you hate me so much."

"What, I can't amuse myself by watching your failures?" He smiled, revealing his fangs. "Call it for old times' sake."

She whipped a pebble at him. It bounced pointlessly off his fur. But it made her feel a little better. "If you're going to be here, can you at least help me come up with a plan to wake me up?"

"Hm. No."

"Why not?"

"I simply don't care."

She threw another pebble at him. It did about as much good as throwing a snowball into the sun. But whatever. It gave her something to do—like walking pointlessly through her dream landscape.

"Besides," Grinn began, his voice growing quiet in a way she didn't like. "I've come up with a new way of amusing myself, I think."

Stopping, she turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I have an opportunity to do something I've been wanting to do for years."He walked up to her slowly, resembling a panther, until he loomed over her. His glowing red eyes flickered like fire as he let out a puff of dark smoke from his nostrils.

"Which…is…?" This was starting to make her nervous. He couldn't hurt her—right? It was just a dream—right?

"I think I'll start by breaking your wrists and your ankles. Shatter them at the joints, so you can only crawl and whimper and flop around like a dying fish as I go about doing the same to your knees, elbows, shoulders—human skeletons are so fragile."His smile grew vicious and cruel as he lowered his head closer to hers. "I've had to put up with your voice for over a decade, quacking away at me. Now, I want to finally hear it scream."

"But—I—" She took a step back. He took a step forward. "Wait?—"

"Then I think I'll cook your limbs. One by one. Let you watch your skin turn black and crumble away."

"You—you can't, I'm immune to fire."

"In the waking world, sure. But this is a dream, isn't it?" He laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm about to turn it into a nightmare."

"Grinn, look—I'm—I'm sorry—" She put her hands up in a show of harmlessness as she retreated from him, glancing down at the ground occasionally to make sure she didn't trip over a rock or a root. "You don't need to do this."

"I know. But I want to." He readied to pounce. "If you know what's good for you…you should be running."

Yeah, it was hard to argue with that logic.

With fear pounding in her heart, even in her dream-turned-nightmare, she turned and ran. Grinn's cruel laughter was followed by the sound of him giving chase.

She didn't know what happened if you died in a dream in Avalon.

And she really, really didn't want to find out.

Mordred watched from where he was waiting in the shadows of the parapets of his keep as the sun began to rise over the line of the trees. And just as he predicted, he saw a golden steed break from the treeline. Galahad sat atop the horse as he headed toward the keep at a walk. He was in no rush, it was clear.

Not ten paces behind was a copper horse. Atop it, another familiar man in armor. Percival, the Knight in Copper. Of course. The bastard would not hesitate at the chance to watch the downfall of a man he hated so very much.

Behind them, staying about a hundred paces away, came the elementals. Mordred counted about thirty in all—not a poor number, considering the Gossamer Lady's lack of time in entreating them to join her. And he saw the lady in question, hovering over the grass, leading the elementals. They would want their forces known.

It was clear Galahad wanted to give Gwendolyn time to consider her options and to surrender. It was a good scheme—and if the facts had been as the knight understood them, then it would have been successful. But there was a cruel twist waiting for his former friend the moment he drew close enough for Mordred to spring the trap.

There had not been any time to hide his iron army in the field as he had done so many centuries ago. Instead, they would pour from the sides of the keep and flank the elementals, while Mordred attacked from the front and his dragon came from above.

The timing was key. Spring the trap too soon, and the elementals would have time to flee into the woods. Too late, and they might storm the keep. Only the villagers stood in the way, and he had no faith in their ability to withstand a drizzle of rain, let alone the force that was standing against them.

Mordred had three targets in the fray. The traitors. His so-called allies.

Percival, Mordred was not surprised about nor did he particularly care. The Knight in Copper had always been an insipid bootlicker, only looking out for his own self. Nor did he care overmuch about the Gossamer Lady's betrayal. She was an elemental. It was to be expected.

It was Galahad that hurt. That stabbed at what was left of Mordred's heart.

His so-called brother-in-arms.

Galahad would die by his hand this day, as would his beloved. In what order they would fall, Mordred could not say—his focus would be on neutralizing the Gossamer Lady and retaking Caliburn. That would give him the advantage he would need over the remaining forces.

But first, the scarecrow must play his part. Mordred disliked putting so much faith in someone—let alone an ally of his soon-to-be wife. Bertin's loyalty was elsewhere. He could only hope that the villager would understand that what aided Mordred in this case would aid Gwendolyn.

If not, he would deeply enjoy ripping the scarecrow's metal head from his shoulders and melting it down in his forge. He suspected Bertin knew that would be the cost of betrayal.

This day would be a day of bloodshed. A day of glory. A day of vengeance.

This day would live in the history of Avalon for a thousand years to come—for this was the day he would take his rightful place upon the throne.

The Prince in Iron would cease to be.

And the King in Iron would rise.