Page 14 of To Break a Dark Cage

“They’re harmless unless you’re a bird or a bug. But I get your point.” He stretched his arms out and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Learning magic isn’t like snapping your fingers. It doesn’t just happen.”

“I don’t know if I’ll have much time to practice. I don’t think Mordred or Grinn are going to wait around for long before they try to murder each other. I just don’t think I have any other choice. Option one—I try to stop Mordred and Grinn without anything to back me up. Option two—I try to learn some magic to help me.” She sipped the wine.

Eod had found a clam in the sand and was pawing at it curiously. When he picked it up in his mouth, it must have moved or squirted water at him, as he dropped it immediately and yelped. He jumped back a few feet before deciding that the clam needed to be barked at for its transgression.

Doc sighed. “It’s risky, Gwen.”

Gazing out at the ocean, she took a moment to think it through. “Avalon wants me here. It thinks this is my home. I have to try to save it—from both of them.”

With a grunt, he pushed himself up to his feet. “Well, then let’s get going.”

“Where?”

“To the heart of Avalon’s magic.” He walked off into the woods down a path without turning to look back at her.

“Which is where, exactly?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Does it matter?”

No, it probably didn’t matter in the slightest. Shaking her head, she picked up the basket of food, dumped out the rest of her wine and, just like she had with Grinn not too long ago, followed a deranged madman into the woods of a magical island.

I’m starting to sense a pattern here.

And I’m also starting to take this personally.

Screw you, Avalon.

Mordred stood atop the rampart of his keep and watched as two of his knights set out upon their dragons. Bors and Percival, the Knight in Nickel and the Knight in Copper, had simple enough orders.

Find the demon, but do not engage.

For even two of his knights were no match against that bastard.

But no matter how simple the orders might have been in theory, he knew in practice they were still in danger. Not only from Grinn—but from the elementals of the isle.

How many more of his knights would he lose in the coming fray? How many more would be reduced to ashes? How much else would he have to lose in the end?

Shutting his eyes, he lowered his head and braced himself for what was to come. It was time. Turning from the rampart, he headed back into his keep, his thoughts growing dark as he walked down the long stairs that led to the chambers beneath his home.

On his deathbed, Arthur had made Mordred swear to protect the isle and all those who lived within it. He had entrusted him with Caliburn. He had entrusted him with his knights.

Lancelot was dead by his hand.

Caliburn had been destroyed.

And the woman he had sacrificed it over was now far away from him—returned to Earth. They would never meet again. With her went his heart.

His love was gone. His blade was shattered. And his knights would likely soon join their fallen comrade, one way or another.

There was a deep grief that ran through him, that cut to his soul like a knife.

But there was also a strange sense of freedom in it all.

With a gesture, the enormous doors of the chamber that housed the Iron Crystal swung open, silent and ghostly despite their size.

And there, suspended from the chains that attached to the pillars, was his inevitability. Gazing up at it, it was dormant—the opalescent glow of contained magic was absent. The prison was empty.

For now.

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