Page 36 of To Break a Dark Cage

Her hand went cold.

Eyes flying open, she shrieked and jumped back, waving her hand as if to try to get a spider off it. But there was no getting this off her hand—it was her hand!

Her hand was made out of iron!

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck—” She waved her hand again, whining, before giving up at trying to simply flick the material off. Taking a deep breath, she held it, and slowly let it out. Her hand was made out of iron.

Like when it was made from fire, but—metal.

Chewing her lip, she focused on the sensation. Tried to turn it into something, the same way she did when she made little fireballs or the like. And sure enough, she watched as metal seemed to form from her palm and begin to mesh into a kitchen knife.

“I really don’t understand this, but okay.” She focused on making her hand normal again. The metal slowly receded but the knife remained. “At least this means we can eat dinner without hacking up bones.”

“Food!” Eod’s tail whumped on the ground.

Dogs.

“Eat, then sleep. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or, y’know, a tree.” Smiling half-heartedly, she went to work. Dinner was peaceful, sitting by the fire on the ground with Eod who happily gobbled up whatever she gave him. The fishy remains were put into the river, and she settled down on a grassy spot, using Eod’s flank for a pillow. He didn’t seem to mind.

Sleep was slow to come—there was always a rock pressing into her in some weird way. It seemed like every time she moved one, she discovered another. But she was exhausted, and her need for rest slowly won over her uncomfortable situation.

Just as she began to nod off, a horrible thought crept into her mind, too late to keep her awake. Controlling iron on Avalon was a big fucking deal.

What will Mordred do when he finds out he isn’t the only one who can control iron?

Mordred was dreaming of a happier time.

Sitting around a fire on whatever boxes and logs they could drag around to make it more comfortable, he raised his mug in salute to the men across from him. Galahad. Bors. Gawain. Tristan. Percival. Lancelot. Himself.

And Arthur.

His king and leader was leaning up against a crate, sitting on the ground, laughing at Gawain’s dramatic retelling of some mishap on a battlefield where the knight had become stuck in the mud and had to hack at his opponents like a fool.

They were mortal men—all save for Galahad, with his longer lifespan and magical lineage.

Mordred missed those days. They were simpler. They were full of hope. Mordred had counted these men as his family and would never have once believed that they might turn their backs on him.

How naive he had been.

Someone sat down at his side. Someone who did not belong in the dream. He shut his eyes. Her hand found his, intertwining their fingers. He was without his gauntlets—for this was long before the notion of becoming an elemental had even entered his mind.

“Is that… him?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not as old as I thought he’d be. He’s also kinda skinny.”

“Trust me, he is as formidable as any of us.” He chuckled, turning his attention to Gwendolyn. In his dreams, she appeared as she had as an elemental, not a human. Interesting that his mind gave her that appearance, or she unconsciously chose it herself. Her hair had returned to the fiery shades of red that he had adored so very much. Her wings had also returned.

Curious.

Reaching out his other hand, he stroked it over her hair. He knew it was truly her in his dreams—he had known the moment she had spoken in their previous encounter. The magic he embedded inside her before she left must be strong enough to bridge the gap between their worlds.

They sat in silence for a moment before she smiled sadly at him. “Are you all right?”

“I am on the warpath. So…no. Though there is comfort in it. This is where I belong.” He gestured at the encampment around him. “Stationary life within a keep has always felt odd to me. As though I were wasting my time somehow.”

“Not a guy built for retirement. Noted.” She leaned up against his arm, resting her cheek against his bicep. She watched the knights as they continued to replay memories before them both.

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