Chapter 8

Gwen didn't need proof of what the elementals were capable of.

But she found herself staring at it all the same.

The city was in ruins.

And all those who lived there were slaughtered.

There was no way around it. No other words to describe the horrors in front of her. They'd known something was wrong the moment they crested a hill and saw the smoke pouring up from the buildings, black and thick. Bert had frantically kicked at his horse, sending it into a gallop down the hill toward the carnage. She had screamed at him to stop, but it was too late.

By the time they had all caught up with him, he was standing in the middle of the town square, staring at the desolation. His leather gloves covered in black soot. He must have gone searching for survivors.

A huge trench of volcanic rock sliced through several of the stone buildings. Others looked like they had been smashed through by a wrecking ball.

She recognized an elemental lying dead in the center of one of the volcanic pools. She hadn't known their name, but they were present at Mordred's sentencing. Their eyes gazed sightlessly up at the sky, which was a beautiful blue to mock the carnage around them. The sun was desperately trying to shine through the haze of the smoke.

Scattered about the ruins, or blocking off alleys, was another clue to what might have happened—thorns. Thick branches of twisting bramble, covered in vicious barbs the size of her hand. Where they hadn't been burned away, they covered the sides of buildings, of carts, and even the remains of a horse that lay crumpled where it fell.

"Is—is there anyone?" Lina asked Bert. "Anyone at all?"

The scarecrow shook his head. After a long pause, he broke his silence. "Any survivors have run, I'm sure."

"What do you think happened?" Mirkon hugged Lina to his side by draping an arm around her shoulders. The simple gesture made Gwen miss Mordred dearly. He'd know what to do in this situation. He'd have something to say to make it better.

"What always happens. Some elementals fought it out. And we paid the price." Bert's shoulders fell. He reached down and picked up a piece of wooden shrapnel from one of the nearby homes. She watched as tension built in him before, with a shout of rage, he hurled the piece of wood away from him. "This has to be stopped. They must be stopped. And it's clear that bitch Thorn had something to do with this."

Mirkon pointed to a corpse by one of the buildings. "I think that's Erreth, a fire elemental there."

"I'm betting someone didn't want to join her army." Gwen sighed. "What about your friends?" She was afraid to ask, but it was why they had come, after all.

Bert sat on the edge of the ruined fountain in the middle of town. It had once depicted a man in armor, but the upper half was now strewn about like a broken toy. "Likely dead. It wouldn't be like them to stand down. But if we're lucky, some ran for the woods and survived."

It felt dirty, using this as an opportunity. But there was one. She had always loved studying history, and nothing rallied the villagers of Boston together better than the perceived massacre of civilians. Running her hands through her hair, she shut her eyes. "We can use this to get more support. More people might be willing to join us if they know what happened here. We'll split up. Bert, Mirkon, Lina—travel wide and spread the word of this slaughter. I'll find Mordred on my own. We're going to lose too much time otherwise, and—and it's clear we don't have much, to begin with."

"You sure you can handle finding him?" Bert sounded wary. "Galahad and Zoe may be your friends for now, but when they learn what you're up to…they can be dangerous."

"I know. I'd like to think I can trust them, but I know you're right." It was hard to picture Zoe turning on anyone. "I'll fly there, so I can reach them faster." If I can figure out how to fly without crashing and burning.Literally. "We'll meet back at the keep. Mae will love having a whole army to feed." The thought would have made Gwen laugh if it hadn't been for the scene around her. Mae would have a fit. But she'd love the challenge.

"Or what's left of who we can rustle up. But, yes, ma'am." Bert stood. "I'll gather as many as I can. See? I knew you were a natural leader."

She shook her head. She didn't feel like one.

Eod barked.

"Sorry, puppo—I can't take you with me on this one." She knelt and scratched his ears. "You have to go with Bert."

"Straw man smells funny."

"I know." She smiled and kept petting him. "But I have to go alone. I'll be back soon, I promise. And I'll have Dad with me." Or neither of us will come back. The thought of that broke her heart. Of Eod waiting for them. No, she had to make sure that didn't happen.

"Okay."He licked her face, half-heartedly wagging his tail.

She didn't know what it said about her that she was going to fight to the death to make sure her dog wasn't sad, but there it was. "It'll only be for a few days, tops. I promise." She kissed his head. She unfurled her wings, glancing at them. "Now, I have to figure out how to use these things."

"I can't wait to see this." Bert brushed his gloves off on his overalls. "We'll meet back at the keep in two days. If you don't come back by then, we're coming to find you."

She didn't need to tell him how dangerous that would be. Nodding, she patted Eod on the head one last time before she realized she had forgotten one really important thing. "Do you have any idea where Zoe and Galahad are?"

Bert laughed at that, despite the tragedy. "There is a lake just south of the mountain, next to the glade that seems to always be blossoming with flowers. Look for a small house to the side of the lake."

"Lady of the Lake. Naturally." She rolled her eyes. "Thanks. I—I'll do what I can. Be safe."

"You as well."

Gwen stared at her wings for a moment again. Maybe a running start? She tried to remember how Tiny flew. He generally just…pushed off with his legs, flapped his wings, and off he went.

Running start it was.

Don't overthink it, Gwen. Don't overthink. Just let instinct take over. You have wings—they'll know what to do. Taking a deep breath, she figured it was now or never. She took off running away from her friends, and spreading her wings, beat them as hard as she could.

She jumped as she flapped her wings.

It wasn't a graceful takeoff.

Not by any stretch.

She could hear her friends laughing, but she didn't blame them. She probably looked like a baby seagull. A drunken baby seagull. But she was flying! It was a lot easier to stay aloft once she had some distance between her and the ground. The heat from the fires beneath her created an updraft that sent her circling higher.

She could hear Eod barking joyfully, and she resisted the urge to flip off her friends who were all clapping for her. It was well-meaning teasing.

I'm going to see them again. I'm going to. There's no option in the world where I don't. I will find Mordred and free him. And I will pet that dog again.

Priorities.

Whatever.

She circled higher and higher until she could no longer see her friends, and taking stock of where the sun was, she started off in that direction.

The sensation of it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She had flown that one time, but she'd been so terrified that she hadn't really had the chance to enjoy it.

Flying.

And it was glorious.

She could see dragons and gryphons circling around the mountain, specks against the blue sky. She wondered if they'd attack her—and she decided not to get close enough to find out.

This was freedom.

This was what she had wanted so desperately when she had been home on the farm. She laughed, the sound being pulled away by the wind as she soared.

It was amazing how much faster it was to travel by flying. The winding paths through the woods that snaked from village to city to town were like lines on a map as she looked down at them from overhead. A trip that'd take half a week through the thick woods might only take an hour or two now. She wondered how tiring it would be to go for that long. Right now, it felt effortless as she glided through the air, catching random updrafts or flapping her wings to gain more height.

The beauty of it all made her wish that Mordred was here to see her fly properly for the first time. She could almost imagine him on that enormous metal dragon, flying alongside her as she learned how to control her motion.

By the time she spotted the lake, she was certain at least a few hours had passed. She was getting tired, the ache in her wings reminiscent of how her feet felt after a long hike. Slowly, she started to circle lower.

A graceless takeoff was one thing.

A graceless landing was going to hurt.

She tried to remember everything she knew about planes. How they tilted up at the end to break their speed before touching down. Maybe she could just…flap really hard before she crashed into the earth. Land more like a helicopter than a plane.

It was around then that she realized she knew pretty much jack shit about planes and helicopters.

She saw the small hut, with its white plaster walls and thatched roof, as she descended from up above.

Don't fuck it up.

Don't fuck it up.

Don't fuck it up.

When her feet touched the ground, she staggered from the momentum. And promptly tripped over a rock. The taste of grass followed a second later, along with the accompanying pain.

"Owwww," she groaned.

Someone was laughing quietly. A deep laugh that sounded familiar. Lifting her head from the grass, she saw Galahad sitting atop a fallen log, watching her with a broad smile.

Pushing up to her knees, she brushed herself off. "Not funny."

"Very funny. You looked like a baby bird." He stood from the log and walked up to her, extending a hand down to her. He wasn't wearing his armor, only a plain linen shirt and dark brown trousers. He'd have looked normal if it weren't for his golden eyes.

She took his hand and let him help her up to her feet. She picked a piece of grass out of her hair. "I'm learning."

"And fast, by the looks of things. Was that your first flight?"

"More or less." She smiled faintly. "My first attempt at a landing, at any rate. The last time, a tree did all the work for me on that front."

"Well, I for one am proud of you." He patted her on the shoulder. "And I am grateful for your visit, though I worry about the reasons behind it." Turning, Galahad headed back to the log and sat on it, motioning to the spot next to him.

"Can't I be here to visit a friend?" She joined him on the log, glad to sit down.

"I am sure that is part of your motivation. But is it that, alone?"

"…No." She frowned, looking out at the lake. Dragonflies zipped along its blue-green surface, landing on cattails briefly, their wings like translucent gems. Fish shimmered beneath the water, their scales bright and silvery. "I'm sorry."

"You have much to contend with. I do not blame you. And the answer, I fear, is no. To your inevitable question." Galahad's voice grew firm at the end. He knew what she was coming for without her asking.

"I can't lose him, Galahad. I can't. Who knows what being in there will do to his mind? And if he's really your friend—" Her voice cracked.

"I spent well over a thousand years in Mordred's service, Gwendolyn. The feelings I hold for him are complicated. Please do not attempt to oversimplify them." He shut his eyes. "And do not assume that I am not grieving what will become of him."

"I'm sorry. But—but this doesn't have to happen." She twisted to face him. "Please, Galahad. I need to know where he is. I'm not asking you to do anything. Just tell me where the Crystal is. I'll take the blame. I'm not trying to get you involved."

"But you are. You are here, asking me to betray my people. To betray the laws of my kind. We sentenced him to this punishment, and you wish my aid to see that undone. Doing so puts us all at risk." He pulled his hands into fists in his lap.

"You're already at risk. Thorn is trying to take over. She's already torched one city—hundreds are dead, maybe more—because she's trying to browbeat them all into submission. I can't let this happen." Reaching out, she put her hand on his arm. "Please. I have to stop her. I have to protect the innocents here. And I need him to do it."

"And none of this is inspired by the fact that you love him?" Golden eyes met hers. There was sadness there—deep, fathomless sorrow. But also, a hardness that surprised her. "None of this is because you do not wish to endure another lonely night, wondering about the suffering of the one you love, trapped within such a terrible prison?"

Swallowing, she sat back, and pulled her hand from his arm. "What Mordred did to Zoe wasn't fair. What he did to everybody—but—this is a different situation."

"Is it?"

"He was trying?—"

Galahad cut her off. "And so are we. This world is not his to rule. Squabbles amongst the elementals is…a fact of Avalon. That innocents suffer because of it is tragic. But what you ask for comes at a terrible cost." He stood, pacing away from her. She was struck again by how long he was. Long and tall. It was rare that somebody made Mordred seem short. "He will not rest until they are all dead this time. Others will take their place, and he will hunt them down all the same. It will be an endless slaughter."

"And that's different from what Thorn is doing how exactly?" Now, she was the one getting frustrated. "I can stop Mordred from going on a murder spree. You can help. He'll listen to us."

Galahad laughed, but it wasn't cruel. It was sad. Defeated. He ran a hand down his face slowly. "Oh, Gwendolyn. I am sorry. I cannot help you free him."

There was a finality to that, that took a second to sink in. Tears stung her eyes. She didn't bother begging. She didn't bother arguing. He wouldn't budge. "All right. I'll do it without you."

"Please, stay for dinner. Speak to Zoe and me about this. Let us explain why you must give up this quest of yours."

"No." She hated the idea of another long-ass flight right now. Her wings were already tired. But she couldn't stay here. "Thanks." Pushing up to her feet, she took a deep breath, and let it out. "Mordred loves you, you know. You're family to him."

"And he, to me." Galahad's shoulders fell. "It does not change my answer."

Nodding, she started running, and with a leap, took off into the air. She didn't want to talk to Zoe. She didn't want them to look at her with pity in their eyes, like she somehow was just a child and she didn't understand. Yeah, sure, that might be true—but she didn't want to deal with it.

The sun was setting, and it was getting late. She'd have to make camp in the woods for the night on her own. But she couldn't stay there with Galahad. She just couldn't.

It was all up to Mordred now. If he couldn't give her a hint of where the Iron Crystal had been hidden away…this plan to stop Thorn and save the villagers would be over before it began.

And the man she loved would be gone forever.