Chapter 25

Mordred had felt nothing at the death of Percival, except perhaps some minor relief. But not because a so-called threat was dead, but because he finally knew he was free. Free of the laws that he had bound himself in, tighter than any chain and more maddening than any cage of his creation.

Not so long ago, he had spared Percival's life. He had ensured that the traitor had suffered for his betrayal, but the Knight in Copper had survived. Why? So that Mordred would not incur more wrath from the supposed rules held sacred by the elementals. The law of hospitality. The law that barred death of another elemental unless it was unanimously decreed.

None of it mattered now. It was all stripped from him, like a weight that had been carrying him to the bottom of the ocean's crushing depths.

Mordred was free.

Free to do what was his birthright.

Galahad and the Gossamer Lady were putting up a valiant fight. But in his new world of broken restraints, he did not fight with the honor and dignity that he had been trained to conduct himself with. No. This was about violence. About wrath.

And it was glorious.

He barely felt the strikes of Galahad's sword, or the blasts from Zoe's pathetic magic. Encased in iron as he was, there was no damage the Gossamer Lady could do to him that would matter. Especially not since he had removed Caliburn from the equation. Once her head was cut from her shoulders, he would reclaim the sword as his own.

But for now, he wished to rip the two remaining usurpers apart with his claws.

The Knight in Gold always fought with a speed and surety that was surprising for someone his height and age. But there was a weariness in him that Mordred could sense in his swings, in his stance. Galahad was not simply tired—it was as though his heart were not fully committed to the fight.

Shame.

It would not spare him.

Mordred idly wondered, through the crash and clang of metal and the scrape of claws on golden armor, if Galahad was even aware of this difference in fervor. He was fighting to spare his own life, and yet seemed lackluster over the topic.

It was almost disappointing, now that Mordred thought about it. This was to be their last sparring match, and this would be how he remembered the golden fae warrior.

There was an easy way to see if he could spur the old beanpole into a more passionate fight. Perhaps he should kill Zoe first. He had been trying to do the fae a favor by taking his head before that of his love.

Now, he wanted to see if it might inspire his old "friend" to put up a proper fight.

He turned his attention toward the Gossamer Lady. The reaction from Galahad was instant and palpable.

"Your fight is with me, Mordred." Galahad moved to cut him off from advancing toward the butterfly-winged woman. Galahad swung his sword, causing Mordred to deflect with his own blade and step aside.

"My fight is with you both." Mordred laughed. "Or, have you forgotten who ran me through with my own blade?"

"It was never yours!" Zoe fumed, blinking out of existence where she was and reappearing across the dirt of his courtyard. It was difficult to catch a woman who was as constant and predictable as bolts of lightning. One moment here, the next there.

"It was given to me by Arthur. I was his proper heir. The last words upon his lips before he died charged me with the protection of this place." Mordred was tired of making the argument—this would be the last time he bothered to speak it. "It is you who have taken that which does not belong to you."

"Is this how you protect Avalon? By destroying it?" Galahad charged toward him again. Mordred was sick of the interruptions. Gesturing his hand, a thin and rusted spike of iron shot from the ground, skewering Galahad through the calf.

The Knight in Gold shouted in pain and went to move forward. But the spike was barbed and jagged, and any movement on his part would rip his leg to shreds. His other leg buckled as he fell to that knee, his sword hitting the ground with a thump.

It was a dirty trick. A coward's ploy. Something Mordred would once have loathed to resort to. But now? Now, it felt…so easy. So simple. Why would he not use his power to its fullest extent?

Arthur was not watching him. No judge and jury were waiting that had power over him.

"Galahad!" Zoe cried and rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around the man she loved. "Let him go, Mordred!"

"Why?" Mordred took his time approaching the pair. "Give me a reason, and I will consider it."

"This is not right." Zoe's eyes were wide, and he watched as tears began to fill them.

"I will amend my statement." Mordred stopped a few paces away. "Give me a good reason."

Zoe's lips twisted in a grimace, and he watched as her eyes slowly grew black from lid to lid. Her voice echoed with another, deeper voice. "Release him, or I shall end all those within this keep."

"You mean them?" He gestured at the villagers on the walls of the ramparts. They were still fighting the war outside, firing arrows at any of the elementals who drew too close. Those without bows were waiting for their chance to battle. "Go ahead. I do not care."

Zoe continued. "I will wither and rot every living thing?—"

"As you wish. You cannot harm me."

"Run, my love—" Galahad pulled his helm from his head. Sweat matted his brow. A bruise was forming on his jaw from where Mordred had punched him. "Run. I am lost. Go and save yourself."

"I would hunt you down, Gossamer Lady. I will not stop until you are dead." Mordred kept his voice even. It was not a threat. It was a simple fact. "There is nowhere you can hide. No shadow in which you might cower that I would not search to find you."

"Let her live. Spare her. If our friendship meant anything to you, spare the woman I love." Galahad struggled to stand, but it was no use. He collapsed a second later.

"It hurts me to see you like this. Weak. Tired. You need a rest, old man." Mordred took another step forward.

Zoe blocked his path, standing her ground, the darkness of her eyes swirling like an oil slick.

Mordred lifted his blade and pointed the tip at her throat.

"One touch from me and you will be dead." Her voice was like the rumble of thunder upon the horizon.

"You will be dead before you have the chance to try." Mordred smiled underneath his helm. She would be a proper challenge.

"I—"

Fire roared through the air, making it suddenly difficult to breathe. It blotted out the sky. Turning, Mordred felt his heart skip a beat.

A woman whose hair was a pure fiery blaze stood atop the stairs to his keep, wings like those of a dragon spread behind her. It was from her that the explosion had come. A terrible, beautiful, force of nature.

Mordred paused. As did the others.

"Enough."

Gwen stepped out onto the top landing of the stairs that led from the door of the keep down into the courtyard. The fire she had sent rushing through the air had been a warning shot. Her wings unfurled at her back, spread wide in threat. Her hair was made of fire, and it curled around her as she walked. But it did not singe her clothing. Funny, how she could control her power better when she was pissed. She was in no mood to play.

"Enough."She didn't shout. She didn't need to. With that one word, everything seemed to pause. There was a crumpled body in copper armor bleeding into a puddle of crimson. Percival.

Galahad was skewered to the ground on a nasty and rusted iron spike.

Zoe had gone "dark," her eyes black from lid to lid, her skin pale, veins the color of ink. Her wings were no longer that of a summer butterfly—but somehow seemed rotted and corrupted.

And judging by the sound and the movement outside, the elementals and Mordred's army were still at war.

But with that one word, there was a skip in the beat of the action. One moment when everything seemed to hang as all focus turned on her. She was too furious to care.

On either side of her, walking from the keep, were Tim and Bert. Maewenn followed close behind. Even Eod was with her, staying close to Mae as Gwen had told him to. And, more importantly, far enough back to keep from getting scorched.

Her hand hurt like hell.

But it gave her a strange kind of clarity.

Mordred had turned to her, Zoe and Galahad forgotten. "Gwendolyn—how?—"

She tossed him the gauze-wrapped "package" she was holding in her injured hand. He caught it, looking down at it in his palm. She could not see his face. Hopefully, it was a look of pure horror as he realized what it was. "I got you a wedding present." There was a shocking amount of coldness in her own voice. She was almost proud of it.

"I—" Mordred stammered. He sheathed his sword before slowly unwrapping the gauzed object that she had thrown to him. Upon seeing her severed finger, he looked away from it, closing his hand around the piece of her. "Gwendolyn—" His voice cracked. "Why? I love you. I was going to wake you. Why?"

"Are you serious?" A laugh of disbelief burst from her. "You were going to wake me after everyone was dead! And would you have ever taken that cursed ring off? Or, were you going to keep me on a leash for all time?" Lifting her good hand, she summoned the crown that Merlin had given her. "All because you want this so very badly?"

Mordred said nothing. Simply stood there in silence like an iron statue.

Gwen didn't care. She'd deal with him later. She had other issues to contend with. Passing the crown to her injured hand, she walked up to where Caliburn was trapped in iron. She had no idea how she knew what to do. It was just in her, shining through the anger. A wonderful clarity that she was so very grateful for.

Grasping the hilt of the sword, she commanded the iron to dissipate. The sword hummed in her grasp—it almost seemed to vibrate with power. Before her very eyes, the blade changed. No longer the huge broadsword that Mordred had used, or the slightly smaller blade that Zoe had recreated.

Caliburn wasn't simply one blade. It was whatever its owner wanted it to be. Whatever they needed it to be. She could feel it there, almost a sentience—calling out to her. And she answered it.

The blade shifted until it was something far more her size. The blade was decorated with twisting, swirling flames that climbed from the crossguard and up the flat of the shining steel. The crossguard itself took on the appearance of a dragon's wings. And the pommel was a roaring head of the same lizard-like creature.

Caliburn was hers. Because she took it. Because it wanted to be hers. It was beautiful. And it sang, shining in the light.

"You have no right—"Zoe protested. "I am of Avalon, and I ruled here for a thousand years before you fools came to its shores. That crown and blade are mine!"

"You couldn't just let me enjoy the moment, could you?" Gwen rolled her eyes before turning to Zoe. She was still standing in front of the wounded Galahad. Gwen could free the Knight in Gold—but he was also trying to kill her and Mordred, so…maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Zoe furrowed her brow. "You commanded the iron. You share in Mordred's power?"

"I share in all the powers of the elementals. Maybe even yours." Gwen smiled in false sweetness. "Wanna find out? Come here."

The Gossamer Lady froze. Real fear flashed over her features. "We will rule together. Split the kingdom. You will take half and I will take half—the Queens of Avalon. I will teach you."

"Let me think about that." Gwen walked over to her, keeping Caliburn down at her side. She stopped, a few feet away from the other woman. "No." She swung her sword for Zoe.

The Gossamer Lady disappeared in a blink. Which Gwen was counting on. She let go of the handle of the blade and commanded it to whip through the air.

She didn't know how she knew where Zoe was going to reappear.

But she did.

And therefore, so did Caliburn.

Zoe reappeared the moment the sword pierced through her stomach. Just as it had pierced Mordred.

Galahad roared. "No!"

The Gossamer Lady's feet touched the ground. Then her knees, as she knelt, the blade still protruding from her body.

Flicking her wrist, the blade returned to Gwen. She'd reflect on how awesome that was another time. Looking over at Galahad, she frowned. "I'm sorry." She dissolved the iron that held him in place and jerked her head for him to go to his wife.

Limping, but moving, the Knight in Gold went to the side of his wife. Crimson was flowing from her as she pressed her hands to the wound. She collapsed into Galahad's arms as he knelt beside her. "Shush, my love, shush—" He kissed her, cradling her gently.

Mordred had yet to move. He was still standing there, staring at the severed finger in his palm. If he was aware of what was happening, he made no sign of it.

Gwen watched as Zoe lifted a bloody hand to touch Galahad's cheek, but her strength was quickly waning. "My love. My sweet, my knight…"

"We are threads of silk and gold." He grasped her hand and held her palm to him. "Wound together, now and forever. Death shall not separate us. Your soul and mine are one."

Zoe's smile was weak and forlorn. "I—I am so very sorry."

"We are past regret. Think only of peace. And my love for you. Let it carry you to the stars, gold and silk together. We will be together soon." He kissed her, holding the embrace, until Zoe's hand went limp and slipped from his.

Clutching her close to him, Galahad let out a sound that broke Gwen's heart. She was gone. Not even the elemental of life could stop her own death.

Gwen shut her eyes and wiped at the tears that threatened to slip down her own cheeks. This had to stop. All of it. The Knight in Gold had betrayed them, but she understood why. And he was still a friend in pain. Sniffling, she decided she was on to the next thing. There was a war to stop. She'd deal with the two men later.

She gestured her hand, and the villagers quickly worked to open the gates. "Bert. With me."

The scarecrow went into action silently, the villagers filing in behind her in rows. Her soldiers, adorned in iron armor.

Heading out of the gate, she saw the mayhem in front of her. Elemental corpses and the remains of iron soldiers were strewn about. Sticking the pointer and thumb of her good hand into her lips, she let out a sharp whistle. Tiny was causing most of the mayhem, screeching and swiping at the elementals that were blasting it uselessly with their magic.

Her own obsidian dragon flew overhead, screeching loudly, before descending on the battle. He—no, she—crashed down right in front of the iron dragon. Her dragon was smaller than Mordred's enormous creation. But her dragon, like Gwen herself, was pissed.

Her dragon roared in Tiny's face. The iron monstrosity took a step back before…sitting down. It would have made her laugh if she hadn't been so damn angry and in pain.

Their sudden arrival had stopped the fight in its tracks. Gwen let go of Caliburn, watching it float idly in the air beside her, waiting for a command. All the remaining elementals—maybe thirty—were watching her.

"I don't want this!" She held up the crown in her bandaged hand. Blood was seeping through the gauze in places. It was weirdly fitting to see the delicate jewelry and crimson together. "I don't. I didn't ask for this. But I am sick of this. Sick of listening to all of you fight and moan and kill each other. People are dying. Love is dying."She pointed behind herself back to where she knew Galahad was still holding Zoe in his arms. "And it ends here. It ends now. No more."

Silence.

"Peace. This is what I decree. No more warmongering. No more squabbling over who owns what and where. You will come to me to settle these disputes." She took a breath and let it out. There was no going back. "I am Queen of Avalon. Chosen by the island. By Caliburn. And by Merlin. Will any of you stand against me?"

Silence for a long moment. A few of the elementals glanced at each other. One, who was made of ice, took a step forward. "Why should we follow you?"

"None of you know me. None of you have had a chance to know me." Gwen also took a step forward. She still refused to put the crown on her head. Holding it was good enough for now. "I'm not cruel. I will be fair. I will be kind. But this death, these wars, it ends now, once and for all. If you stand against me, I'll send you from the island to a slow death. Or, you can have a fast one by the sword. Your call."

"And what of him?" The ice elemental pointed behind her. "Is he to sit at your side?"

Gwen turned to see Mordred standing some ten feet away. She knew what she had to do. She loathed doing it. But there was no choice. "No. He…is exiled from Avalon."

Mordred jerked his head again as if he had flinched from a physical blow. But he said nothing.

The ice elemental considered their answers, then nodded once. "Peace. Peace sounds…good."

"Will you reign here?" said another elemental, this one made of rock, as he gestured up at the keep. His voice sounded like gravel in a tumbler.

Gwen thought about it for a moment, then smiled slightly. "No. I will rebuild Camelot." That sounded fun. She was sure Bert and his friends would help her, especially for the right pay. "Now go. Go home. Go back to your loved ones. Tell the others what has happened here."

The survivors didn't wait long to disperse, heading back to the woods on foot, by flight, or simply disappearing into the ground, or the air, or into a swirl of greenery or leaves.

That left the iron army and two giant dragons. Tiny was staring at her obsidian dragon strangely.

"Don't you go getting a crush," she said to the enormous animal. "I don't want to see what happens if you two get it on." She headed back into the keep, ignoring Mordred.

"Gwendolyn—" He reached for her as she passed.

"Not now." She brushed him off. Arguing with him was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment. Galahad was still holding Zoe's lifeless body in his arms, rocking her back and forth and crying into her dark hair.

Before their eyes, she shimmered, and disappeared into dust that glittered in the fading sun. Galahad doubled over, weeping, his head in his hands.

Gwen knelt beside him. "I…I'm sorry."

"You did not have a choice. To bring peace to this world, I knew a life must be sacrificed. As much as I love her, I—" Galahad grimaced. "I knew that this could happen. I saw her going astray. But I could not leave her side."

"She was trying to do what was right in the end. By any means necessary." Gwen glanced over at Mordred. "Which seems to be a theme around here."

Galahad took a breath and nodded before letting it out in a long, broken sigh. "So it seems."

"Can…you forgive me for this?" Gwen frowned.

After a long pause, Galahad shook his head. "But neither can I hate you for it. We are at peace, Lady Gwendolyn, for the brief time I continue to live."

That was good enough. Reaching out, she pulled him into a hug. The love of his life was dead. Galahad allowed her to hold him and leaned against her. Mordred stood some ten feet away, staring. Waiting.

When Galahad's tears dried, he wiped his face before gently pushing out of Gwen's grasp and hefting up to his feet. He faced Mordred, approaching the Prince in Iron before kneeling and bowing his head. "Take my life."

Mordred pulled his sword from his sheath.

Gwen wanted to stop him. Wanted to spare Galahad. But what was the point? What reason would he have to go on? Zoe was dead and dust. This was a mercy, of sorts.

Mordred raised his blade, ready to cleave the Knight in Gold's head from his shoulders. He paused. Then slowly lowered the blade back to his side. "Stand, old man."

Galahad looked up, grayed brows furrowed in confusion. "What manner of cruelty is this?"

"You will not die by my hand." Mordred turned from them and headed into his keep, ignoring the stares of everyone as he disappeared inside.

"I do not wish to live without her, Lady Gwendolyn," Galahad said from where he knelt, pleading with her. "End my life. It is a mercy."

Gwen sighed and shut her eyes. She didn't want to kill Galahad any more than Mordred did. Then it hit her. "Take the skiff and go home."

He watched her in disbelief. "I have raised my sword against you."

"Yeah. But you did it out of love." Gwen shook her head. "I can't kill you. I just can't. You don't deserve to die like that. You've…you've been such a good friend. But I can't let you stay either. So…"

He nodded in understanding. "Home. Yes. I will return to my people in Tir n'Aill. Perhaps the trees will take me, and I will grow as one of them. Perhaps my soul will be free to join my beloved." The act of getting to his feet looked painful. He seemed so very tired. She knew he wouldn't last long, away from Avalon and its magic that was keeping him alive. "I will depart in the morning."

"I'll send you off." She smiled faintly. "Like you did for me."

He nodded once. "May I…sleep the night here?"

"Of course."

Turning, Galahad walked away, each step looking painful.

With a weary sigh, Gwen walked back up the stairs and knelt down by Eod to pet him. The dog licked her cheek, sensing her sadness.

‘What's next, boss?" Bert asked. She didn't miss the excitement and happiness in his voice, even if he was doing his best to hide it. His side had won, after all.

"I need to settle things with Mordred before I exile him from the island. Anyone who wants to come with me to Camelot is welcome to join. There's a lot of work to be done."

"What will become of the iron soldiers without Mordred?" Bert shook his head. "I'd…hate to see anything happen to them." The silent subtext was Maewenn and Tim, both of whom were standing nearby.

"I can command iron, the same as him. I can keep them alive." She knew. Just knew she could. It was bizarre, being so tapped into the island. She laughed quietly. At the look of confusion at her laughter that she got from those nearby, she shook her head. "Sorry. I wanted to meet Merlin, and then I became him." Pushing to her feet, she looked over at her friends. "Who will come with me to Camelot?"

Tim nodded with a squeak-squeak-squeak. He was clearly on board, even if he was one of Mordred's creations.

Maewenn twisted her hands in front of her. "I—well. What would you do without a good cook?"

"I don't know what I'd do without my good friend." Gwen smiled at her. She patted Eod on the head again before walking into the building.

There was one last fight to be had.

And it was the one she was looking forward to the least.