Page 74 of To Love a Dark Lord

Gwen put her left hand on the chopping block, curling all her fingers in except the one wearing the ring. It wasn’t exactly easy, folding her hand in such a way, and she had to cram her fingers against the edge of the chopping block so hard it was painful, to give Mae a clean shot. Or, at least, her best chance at a clean shot.

She held the butcher’s knife out to Maewenn, handle first.

She wanted to puke.

But this had to be done.

With a choked sob, Maewenn took the handle in her shaking hand. Gwen really hoped Mae didn’t miss. The cook took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. “Are—are you sure? You…you could ask Mordred to simply take it off.”

“He’s in the middle of murdering Galahad. I’m pretty sure he’s busy.” This was the last thing she wanted to do. But she didn’t have a choice. “Please. I have to stop him. He’s out of control.”

Mae nodded. “Okay. Okay.” She put her metal hand on Gwen’s wrist, holding her steady.

Gwen shut her eyes and braced herself.

There was a pause.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t!” Mae put the cleaver down on the block with a clunk. She walked across the kitchen to hide her sob.

A metal hand rested on her shoulder. Tim. He had been hovering near her, nervously watching the whole scene play out. Then he reached for the butcher’s knife.

“Oh no, no, no, no—” Mae waved her hand at the rusted half-finished guard. “That’s worse!”

“I trust him.” Gwen smiled up at Tim. “Go ahead.”

Tim nodded, squeaking as he did. It was clear he wasn’t enthusiastic about the situation, but he took the cleaver and moved to a better position.

Gwen took a breath. It was weird, loving someone you couldn’t trust. But she supposed Mordred was already living that life. Turnabout was fair play, yadda yadda.

Mae twisted her hands as Tim readied himself. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Gwen shut her eyes. “Just don’t tell me when he’s going to do it, I’d rather not kn?—”

Her mind flashed white.

The pain was total, instant, and overwhelming.

Her stomach flipped. She felt woozy. The floor rushed up to meet her, but somebody caught her. Her head felt fuzzy and a thousand miles away. She barely felt the burning-hot end of a kitchen tool pressing against the stump of where her finger had been a second before, cauterizing the wound and stopping the bleeding.

She’d heal fast. She was a witch of Avalon.

But it wasn’t like it’d regrow.

Shutting her eyes, she tried desperately not to pass out. Tim was the one who had caught her. Mae was talking to her gently and stroking her hair. Eventually, she could make out what she was saying.

“You’re okay. It’s done. It’s all over. It’s gone.”

“Not over,” she muttered as she tried to blink her way back to reality. Mae was cleaning the chopping block frantically, scrubbing at what must have been her blood. “Only just begun.”

Tim reached up and took a goblet of water from the counter and helped Gwen drink it. It did wonders to settle her stomach, even if she did wish it were wine at the moment. But that’d come later.

Finally, she worked up the nerve to look at her left hand. Her ring finger was gone. Just a stump, right below where the ring had sat. It was a good shot, honestly. “Thanks, Tim. Thanks, Mae.”

Tim shook his head forlornly. It clearly wasn’t a favor he was proud of. He helped her stand up, sitting her back on the stool. Mae began wrapping her hand in gauze.

There it was.

Her finger.

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