Page 11 of To Love a Dark Lord

She watched Doc as he headed into the long grass. “Goodbye, Doc. And thanks for being a friend.”

“You too, kid. You were fun.” He waved over his shoulder without turning. And just like that, he disappeared. There was no shimmer of light—no cosmic whoosh or swirl of smoke. He was just gone.

Picking up his bottle of booze, she headed inside, her heart heavy. Doc wasn’t a whole lot of help when it came to it, but he was someone to talk to. Someone to have around. Someone who might know something about what she should do next.

She was losing friends faster than she was making them.

Walking into Mordred’s study, with the large iron table in the middle of it, she slumped into one of the chairs, staring at the map in front of her. If I were Zoe and Galahad, where would I hide the Iron Crystal? There were too many options. Maybe they buried it. Maybe they hid it deep in a forest. Or in the caves. There was no telling. Hell, they could’ve dropped it into the ocean.

Doc was gone—not like he’d tell her where the Iron Crystal was, anyway—and there was nobody else she could ask. Resting her forehead on her arms, she let out a long, dreary sigh.

“I was going to ask how you were doing, but I think I already know.”

Glancing up, she watched Bert walk into the room. “Yeah.” She put her head back down. “Having a real fucking great time right now.” She heard him sit at the table next to her. She’d offer him some of her alcohol if he, y’know, had a face. Well, a face with a mouth that worked, anyway. “Doc is gone.”

“He took off again?”

“No, I mean gone. Gone—gone. Forever gone.”

“…Oh.” The scarecrow sat there in silence for a long moment before reaching out and placing a hand on her back. “I’m sorry.”

Straightening up, she did her best to force a smile. It probably looked as half-assed as it felt. “It is what it is. I couldn’t stop him. Wasn’t my decision to make, anyway.” She picked up the bottle of alcohol, thought about it for a moment, then put it back down in front of her.

He paused. “I’m sorry to add more trouble to your day, but there’s something you need to know immediately.”

“Oh good, more problems. What’s going on?” That’s all she needed. More shit to worry about.

“Thorn’s army is on the move. It’s making its way south.” He paused. “Toward us.”

“Fuck.” She reached for the bottle of booze and took a swig. “You know what? I really don’t like her.”

Bert snorted. “Nobody does. But she’s dangerous. She’s one of the strongest on the island. Second only to Mordred and maybe Galahad. But rumor is he’s given up the sword and is going into retirement. Not like I blame the bastard.”

“No, neither do I. After everything.” Even if Galahad had betrayed Mordred. Kind of. Sort of. She still didn’t know how she felt about both Zoe and Galahad voting to put Mordred into imprisonment. Zoe, she supposed she could understand. But Galahad? The Knight in Gold was supposed to be Mordred’s friend.

Insomuch as Mordred had friends. He wasn’t wrong not to trust people, but he was also very good at giving people reasons to dislike him. She wasn’t sure she blamed either group for their beliefs or behavior.

“I just wish we could all get along for, like, five fucking minutes.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s all giving me a goddamn headache.” She signed up for this mess when she made a deal with Avalon. Though she knew it wasn’t going to be easy, she didn’t think it’d be like this. That’s what she got for underestimating Avalon’s aptitude for screwing her over or putting her into gnarly situations.

But she supposed that wasn’t entirely fair. It had given her everything she had wished for back on Earth. She mattered here—she was somebody. Her panic attacks had all but disappeared. She had a man she loved and who loved her in return. And she had friends.

Never mind the fact that the man she loved was the island’s favorite villain and her friends were mostly made out of metal and straw. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, she supposed. “Here’s what I know, Bert. I can’t let him stay in there for a thousand years. I can’t. Even if I thought I could go that long without him, there wouldn’t be much left of either of us by the end of it. I need to free him, come what may. I need to. Or I’m going to die trying.”

She didn’t like the idea of still waiting for an army to hunt Mordred down. But she didn’t see any sensible way around it. Trying to go at it single-handedly was probably a great way to get killed. “No. I’m going to see if I can get in touch with him through magic, but odds are slim. I don’t really have any other ideas. I guess I could just go ask Zoe and Galahad, but I highly doubt that’ll work.” She chuckled sadly. “I’m still new to all this.”

“Well, that’s what spies are for. I’ll see if my people can find something. Between the two of us, we should be able to figure something out. Right?” The scarecrow shrugged.

She loved his optimism. It was something she could use a little of these days. She smiled. “A witch and a scarecrow. We make a great pair.”

“Exactly!” Bert stood and headed out of the room, leaving her to her own devices. The silence in his absence was like a heavy weight pressing down on her.

She needed Mordred back.

He’ll be fine. I won’t have to kill him. He’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. He’s survived over a thousand years. We’ll stand against the elementals, and we’ll all live happily ever after.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah right,” she muttered into the bottle as she took another swig.

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