Dean arched a brow at me. “You do, do you?” he said flatly.
“It would be much appreciated. I’m quite tired.”
Silence answered me. I glanced over to find that Dean had left, so I turned back to the sky, and decided to count the stars. Part of me wished I could specifically recall the exact steps I had taken to birth the new Bifröst, but I was pretty sure I would pass out if I attempted it. The thing about Fae magic—at least in my case—was that it was instinctual.
No cookbook or measurements to map out. I let the thought go. Maybe someday.
It would soon be time to go to Stonehenge. No matter what Anubis decided.
Even though I didn’t have enough Fae magic left to even lift a feather.
But I did have a War Hammer. And it wanted to kiss Mordred right on the lips.
Chapter 35
Alex had woken, tired, but none the worse for wear after I’d used him to repair the Bifröst. He and Ruin had gone for a walk, leaving me to my thoughts.
I had been inspecting the now-empty Hand of God curiously, considering Odin’s comments about Tiny Gods. I’d taken out the three Horseman Masks, going over my list of names with a fine-toothed comb.
I stared at the War Hammer, hefting it in my fist, thinking. It was still pregnant with ichor and begging to be used. But that was dangerous. It could give Mordred exactly what he wanted—the ichor within. Then again, he had seen the War Hammer several times and hadn’t been remotely concerned about it, so when he saw me holding it again he might dismiss it out of sheer familiarity, potentially giving me an opportunity to take him out.
I set the Hammer down with a sigh and my gaze drifted over the Knight’s sketch in a perfunctory manner, my thoughts drifting to Anubis’ tardiness. But I froze as the sketch sprang to life—awoken by my casual glance—revealing something much more than a crude depiction of Stonehenge or what I had taken to presume was a sun.
I blinked rapidly, surprised at what I saw. Familiar Runes marked ten of the columns—matching those I had seen on the actual Round Table in Chateau Falco.
Then I noticed something else and my eyes widened in disbelief. That…how had no one ever noticed that before? I wondered if Mordred knew, decided it was best to assume that he did, and I jumped to my feet, shoving everything into my satchel.
Anubis appeared as I was packing, not looking pleased at my summons. But he was here.
I turned to him, setting my satchel down. I dipped my head respectfully and told him what I wanted. “As long as they come back as themselves, not some deranged zombie or anything,” I clarified.
Anubis snorted. “That only happens in the movies. They might be a little disoriented for a few days. A little emotional or passionate, but that’s it.
“What do you mean, passionate?” I asked, frowning in concern.
He thought about it for a few moments. “Instead of saying gosh darn it, they will curse really loudly.” He saw the dubious look on my face and rolled his eyes. “You’re already dangerous enough, Temple. I’m not going to give you two super-powered zombies with anger management issues to put on your team. It will be like they missed a night of sleep. Nothing more.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” he said, rolling his eyes. At my nod, he glanced over at the bodies of Gunnar and Talon behind me, considering my request. “You haven’t completed your task yet, by the way,” he reminded me.
“Then let’s talk loan terms.”
He thought about it for a few moments. Then he gave me an easy shrug. “Okay. You can have your two souls early—with the commitment that Mordred dies within one year and is returned to me. If you fail, their souls—and yours—are returned to me.”
“Two years,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes. “Having doubts already? I’ve already got you bent over a barrel.”
“No doubts. Two years for two souls sounds fair,” I said, lowering my eyes so he knew I wasn’t being disrespectful. “If I had it my way, I would finish it tonight, but I have other commitments that could complicate my timetable,” I explained, lifting the coin around my throat for him to see.
My Horseman’s Mask.
Anubis finally nodded. “Deal.” Then he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out two balls of light. He held them over Gunnar and Talon and I suddenly grew very nervous, my heart pounding.
This was it.
He released the orbs and I watched them settle into each of my friends.
A few moments later, they gasped and woke, blinking rapidly.
I fell to my knees, overcome with emotion.
Anubis spoke in a calm, measured voice. “Hear me, Gunnar. Hear me, Talon.”
They sat up, looking very surprised.
“You died. Nate Temple brought you back to life. Gave you a second chance…” and I watched as Anubis knelt beside each of them, comforting them and answering their questions like the kindest of doctors.
I had never seen him act like that, but minute by minute, I saw my friends calm down, and as I looked into their eyes…
There wasn’t even a hint of doubt that they were back. Because their three combined eyes were full of tears as they smiled back at me. It had worked.
“Calvin and Makayla, eh?” I asked Gunnar.
He nodded excitedly. “Alex told you…”
“I did what—”
Alex froze, staring in disbelief at the afterparty we were throwing.
Talon hissed at him dramatically and Alex actually jumped.
Talon burst out laughing, his tail flicking back and forth as he climbed to his feet, stretching his paws overhead. Then he looked at me and grinned. “I need some catnip, Wylde. Something to perk me up.”
Tears fell down my cheeks as I reached into my pocket and handed him his stash, unable to speak. He walked up and glanced down at it. Then he swatted it out of my hand and wrapped me up in a tight hug. “Thank you, Wylde,” he whispered.
I squeezed him back as tightly as I could. “Don’t mention it, Tal.”
Soon Gunnar was shoving Talon away and swallowing me with his massive upper body. “Thank you for giving me the chance to meet my kids. You just became godfather of the year.”
I pulled back, laughing. “That’s fairy godfather to you,” I told him sternly.
His eye widened. “You…got your powers back?” he whispered, gripping my shoulder.
Talon grabbed my other shoulder. “You remember?”
“I got my powers and I remember enough. The important parts, anyway.”
“And he repaired the Bifröst,” Dean said from behind me, sounding proud. Like stern-father proud, not parks and rec participation trophy proud. It was a reserved pride rather than the overexuberant cheerleader.
Alex and Grimm went to congratulate Talon and Gunnar, so I turned to face Dean. I stared him in the eyes and dipped my head at his compliment.
“What’s next?” he asked me, and I felt everyone lean close to hear my response.
I smiled.
Chapter 36
We stepped out of Fae as a group, appearing outside Stonehenge and fanning out to make sure we weren’t surrounded. I had my Darling and Dear satchel across my chest and the War Hammer at my hip, ready for whatever Mordred had planned. Through the damp, foggy air, a light flickered from within the center of the ring of standing stones. I released the Gateway behind me with a sigh of relief, stepping clear of any puddles. It had rained recently, which wouldn’t make a fight any easier.
But Mordred was here. Next step was to find Alice.
Because if he hadn’t brought Alice with him, I was going to skin him alive, strip-by-strip, until he talked. To use a child as leverage was truly unforgivable to me. Preying on those weaker than you to obtain what you wanted? Not today.
I idly wondered if Mordred had brought his right-hand man.
Well, no-hand man, technically.
Gunnar and Talon had stared at Alex in disbelief when I told them what Alex had done to their murderer. It
was that same look of respect I was now used to seeing everyone give Alex—spiced with a healthy pinch of fear. They hadn’t laughed about it until I elaborated on the exact details of the fight—how Alex had essentially made the Black Knight his bitch.
Gunnar and Talon wanted to finish off what Alex had started, and I didn’t blame them one bit.
I stared towards the prehistoric monument, remembering the picnic I’d once had here with Callie Penrose. We had sat right there in the center on a night much like this one. The cynical part of me wondered if that, too, had been some cosmic machination dictated by my parents, but I shrugged off the paranoia. Regardless, I had returned. And this time, I wasn’t sure Stonehenge would survive. Not after the hidden message I had seen in the Black Knight’s sketch…
Even though I hadn’t quite wrapped my head around what it literally meant, the implications were profound. The fabled Knights of the Round Table were buried here. As was King Arthur Pendragon. Or at least major clues leading to their final resting places were hidden somewhere within the ancient ring of standing stones. It was time to find out why Mordred wanted me here—after I saved Alice.
According to plan, Gunnar and Talon nodded at me before silently slipping into the shadows like ghosts, despite the numerous puddles and wet mud. Grimm neighed loudly, announcing our arrival so as not to startle Mordred. It was important for him to know Grimm was here. I could possibly use that. Tell Mordred that we could both get something we wanted—he hands over Alice and I send her away on Grimm.
Leaving Alex and I to square off against Mordred and his Black Knight.
Because Talon would have already tossed a pebble our way if he had encountered unfair odds within the center—or outside—of Stonehenge. That was one reason he and Gunnar had slipped off on their own—to scout the area. I waited a few more moments just to be sure. Then I let out a breath, rolling my shoulders. So far so good.
Grimm stayed where he was, knowing his approach would only send Mordred into attack mode. Simply knowing that Grimm was lurking outside the safety of Stonehenge would be enough to give Mordred pause, and hopefully get him to agree to hand over the child.
I took a deep breath, shared a look with Alex, and then we made our way through the puddles over to Stonehenge proper, walking past the tall standing stones. Each was over ten-feet tall and their very presence made me feel like I had stepped back in time. Because they had stood erect for at least four thousand years, silent observers of mankind’s history.
We entered the ring to find Alice with her hands tied behind her back near one of the standing stones. She wasn’t chained to the ground, but she also seemed determined to stay in one place, her eyes wide with fear. Mordred and the Black Knight stood perhaps ten feet away from her, watching us approach. I was careful to avoid eye contact with her, lest I lose my control—which Mordred was likely counting on.
I halted near the center and glanced back at Alex, who had his hands clasped behind his back in a respectful manner. “Hey. Remember that guy?” I asked him, pointing at the Black Knight.
Alex squinted. “He looks vaguely familiar…” Alex then unclasped his hands from behind his back to scratch his head with the finger of his large gauntlet. His other arm hung at his side, accessorized with a matching gauntlet. “But I can’t put my finger on it with that helmet in the way,” he finally said, lowering his armored hand.
I shrugged, turning back to the Black Knight, who had tensed rigidly upon seeing Alex wearing his gauntlets. “He’s got a point, but I remember you,” I assured him. “The rune on your chivalrous pecs gives you away, you naughty minx,” I said, pointing at his breastplate.
The Black Knight didn’t react further than that initial flinch.
“Are you sure it’s the same rune?” Mordred asked, sounding amused. I turned to see he was indicating our surroundings. I followed his finger to see runes painted on many of the standing stones around us. The same ones indicated in the Knight’s sketch—except painted red and inverted, just like the one on the Black Knight’s chest.
That answered one question, even though it wasn’t all that surprising. Mordred knew about the Knights. Hell, the Black Knight had probably told him.
But what was Mordred’s ultimate game plan? If he knew about the Knights, what did he need from me? I was fairly certain I knew the answer, but I wasn’t sure how the Ichor would help him. Had he marked the relevant standing stones so that he knew where to dig?
Instead of reacting, I turned back to the Black Knight, studying the rune on his chest. Then I nodded. “I’m sure it’s him. He left his gloves at my party. And look at that,” I said, pointing at his stumps. “He isn’t wearing his hands. Kind of a dead giveaway.”
On cue, Alex removed the gauntlets and tossed them onto the ground. “You’re welcome.”
I turned back to the Black Knight and whispered loudly across the clearing, as if only he could hear me. “Did you give him my message?” I asked using my right hand to conceal that my left finger was pointing at Mordred.
The Knight nodded stiffly. His stumps didn’t clench, obviously, but his forearms flexed in a sad attempt at intimidation.
I gave him a thumbs up. “Thanks for giving me a hand with that.”
“I see you finally learned how to make a rainbow,” Mordred said calmly, changing the topic.
I nodded. “Mine was way bigger than yours,” I told him, chuckling. “You know, I’ve really missed you, Mo. Hug it out? It might just be our last chance.”
“Did you bring the Ichor?” he asked, ignoring my comment.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, searching in a dramatic display. I was surprised to feel a small stone inside one pocket, but I didn’t react as I palmed it and withdrew my hands. “Damn. I knew I had forgotten something,” I told Mordred. “Do I need to go back and get it, or can we just get this over with now?”
He…smirked.
I felt my pulse quicken, wondering what the hell that reaction had meant.
The stone between my fingers was sharp and smooth, and I suddenly recalled what it was. Not a stone, a diamond. The one Pan had made on the cliff before he fell. I recalled his last lesson, commanding me to feel the rock.
As Mordred continued to stare at me with that victorious smile, I followed Pan’s advice, reaching out to the standing stones with a bare sliver—all I could currently handle after repairing the Bifröst—of my Fae magic. I almost gasped in disbelief at what I found.
The Knights weren’t buried beneath the standing stones…
They were fucking inside them, encased in the stone like they were coffins.
It was a bizarre distortion of the sword in the stone myth. The Knights in the Stonehenge.
And with the red runes splashed onto their make-shift coffins…I was pretty sure Mordred had already figured that out.
Chapter 37
I thought desperately, trying to find a way to mitigate whatever Mordred had planned.
“My unicorn is out there,” I said, gesturing behind me. “What do you say we solve each other’s problem. You give me the child, and my unicorn takes her far away. She has nothing to do with…whatever this is,” I said, hiding my knowledge about the Knights.
“What a great idea,” Mordred said, gesturing for us to go ahead. I narrowed my eyes warily and Mordred smiled. “Please take her away. You would be doing me a great service. I want nothing to do with babysitting a child. My Knight took certain…liberties with that decision.” Mordred pointedly glanced down at the Black Knight’s stumps. “I believe he learned two very valuable lessons for his mistake.”
Without waiting for my approval, Alex advanced towards Alice, keeping a ready eye on the Black Knight and Mordred. I slipped the diamond into my pocket and rested my hand close to the War Hammer, ready for anything.
Alice was staring at Alex with bloodshot eyes, shaking nervously at the strange turn of events—from captivity to freedom with not a drop of blood spilled. I agreed with her, not trusting this peaceful turn of
events one bit. Something was wrong. First, Mordred hadn’t cared about the Ichor. Now, he didn’t care about the girl. What was he playing at?
My breath began to pull faster as I waited for the answer to manifest—my shoulders rigid as I watched for even the slightest motion that might signal an attack. Mordred dipped his head toward Alex, making my hackles rise. Did he actually have a splinter of chivalry deep inside of him? Alex didn’t bother untying Alice—he simply brushed a thumb down her cheek and smiled reassuringly. Then he gently pushed her behind him to cover her retreat, keeping his eyes on the Black Knight as he followed her, walking backwards.
“Sorry about your friends,” the Black Knight abruptly said with a horrible lisp, followed by a harsh chuckle. The lisp caught me by surprise for a moment until I remembered Alex had removed many of his teeth in their first encounter.
Alex paused, cocking his head at the Knight in confusion. Then he glanced over at me, silently asking if I understood the Knight’s comment. I shrugged, discreetly tapping my fingers two times atop my War Hammer—a prearranged signal.
Alex turned back to the Knight and shrugged. “Sorry for what?” he asked, resuming his backwards walk.
The Black Knight used his stump to lift his visor, revealing a gap-toothed grin. “Sorry for putting them down like the animals they were.”
“Oh, that,” Alex said, waving a hand dismissively. “That has nothing to do with me. If you feel guilty, you can always apologize to them,” he said, a smile creeping over his cheeks as he pointed behind the Black Knight.
He flinched, turning just as Gunnar and Talon struck him like linebackers—from two different sides and two different heights. Gunnar went for the legs and Talon went for the face, knocking off the Black Knight’s helmet with a piercing screech. The double impact sounded like it had snapped the Knight’s legs in half.
“Get her out of here!” I shouted at Alex, drawing the War Hammer in my fist.
Mordred had instantly jumped clear, his lips pulling back into a snarl. “How…” he demanded, staring at Talon and Gunnar incredulously. They had the Knight face-down in the dirt and Gunnar was beating the living hell out of him, snarling so hard it was more like a coughing bark. Talon was slicing away at his armor in a meticulous fashion. Then I saw him yank a plate free and hurl it behind him. They were stripping him of his armor.
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