Tommy got to his feet. “I’ll see you both inside when you’re finished. We’ll make the final preparations once we’ve heard from Irkalla and Grayson.”
Mordred sat on the bench as everyone else walked away. “I should have brought some bread for the ducks.”
“I think they’ll be okay,” I told him.
“You ever consider that ducks think about more than just the pond they’re in? You think they worry about how the ducks in the next pond over are doing?”
“Never considered it, but if they had that level of consciousness, I’d feel uncomfortable eating them.”
Mordred nodded but didn’t say anything for several seconds.
“What’s up?” I asked eventually.
“You know that a lot of people in Avalon are aware that Hellequin and Nate Garrett are one and the same. And a lot of those people will have seen that video. Now, most of them who know you will know you’re not a terrorist, but some of them . . .” He stopped talking for a second, leaving the sentence unfinished.
“Some of them will have decided I’m behind all of this and come after me? The thought had crossed my mind. Maybe that was their intent all along, to get people to see me as some sort of bounty to claim. Or at least to make my life more difficult.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. “This has been an exceptionally shitty day.”
“You could go to Arthur, tell him the truth.”
“I imagine he already knows it wasn’t me. He’s not stupid. And I can’t go back to Camelot. Not while Merlin and his people are there waiting for me to show up. That would just start a fight and make things a thousand times more complicated. Besides, I don’t trust Avalon. I don’t know who is and isn’t involved. They took Elaine—they can damn well take anyone else they like.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” I said with a slight laugh.
“Do you have any ideas who the head of this cabal is?”
I nodded. “I have my suspicions, yes.”
“You feel like sharing them?”
“I’m mulling over your idea that it’s Merlin. It makes sense. There are still things I don’t get, though. Too many questions, not enough answers. Story of my life.”
“These last three years have been the happiest I’ve ever had. And it feels like someone is trying to take that away from me. I know that’s selfish, I know that how all of this affects me isn’t exactly the point, but I don’t care. I finally found a place for myself in the world, I finally found friends and allies I care about, and who care about me in return, and I finally feel like I could genuinely do some good. I’m not fighting with my own mind anymore; I’m not consumed with the need to kill people just because Baldr and his people decided they needed a puppet to murder for them. I’m going to fight for this, Nate. If that means I have to be front and center when the enemy march toward us, then so be it. No one is going to take this life from me, not while I draw breath.”
“If anyone had told me a century ago, or hell, even five years ago, that I’d come to not only respect you, but like you, I’d have told them they were insane. I never thought we’d get anything close to a friendship back after so long at each other’s throats. I’m glad it worked out this way, though. And I don’t plan on allowing these people to destroy the lives we all have.”
“Nate, there’s something else. The whole I-have-to-kill-you thing.”
“I thought we literally just agreed that just because the Fates told us we had to go down a road, it didn’t mean we have to actually do it.”
“I know, and I know that just because they said so doesn’t mean you’re going to turn into some kind of monster, murdering everyone in your path. I’m fully aware of all of that, but just hear me out—there’s something I’ve just considered.”
I motioned for him to continue.
“What if no matter what we do, it moves us closer to the future the Fates saw? What if they’re right on this occasion? I know they see one possibility, but they told me that every permutation of the future showed me killing you, or you killing so many people. But what if that doesn’t happen for a thousand years? I’ve spent the better part of three years trying to find a way to get around the Fates’ premonitions and found nothing. And we both know that while what the Fates say doesn’t necessarily have to happen, that doesn’t mean it won’t.”
“That’s incredibly vague.”
“Okay, what if you going after this fake Hellequin is what leads you down a path of darkness? I’m concerned that the My Liege attacks are what kicks this all off for you. If people you love die, you go through people. I heard about Mary, your wife. I heard what you did to those responsible. I heard about America.”
“What did you hear?” I asked. I wasn’t thrilled that he’d brought it up, but now that he had, I might as well discover exactly what he knew.
“You went to America. Murdered people who you considered to be evil. Considered to be unworthy of living in a world where your wife had died. That it took Tommy coming over to stop you.”
“That about sums it up. I’m not going back to that time. The Fates are tricky at best. It’s a shame they stayed in the dwarven realm. Maybe we’ve already done something to change the future we were told about.”
Mordred thought about that for a second before nodding slowly. “I didn’t consider that. How would we know?”
“We wouldn’t. But, Mordred, we can’t live our lives based on the premise that possibly, maybe you might need to stop me from going full—”
“Sephiroth?”
I stared blankly at him.
“Final Fantasy Seven villain. He tries to destroy the world, was once a good guy, kills Aeris, or Aerith depending on how you consider her name is spelled.”
“You’re literally speaking a foreign language to me.”
“Sephiroth bad. Aeris good. That about sums it up.”
“Glad we cleared that up.”
“Anyway, I guess we just have to see what happens from now on.”
“You need to relax a little. You’re going to drive yourself insane if you’re constantly trying to look out for ways to stop something that might not happen. That’s not a basis to be happy, Mordred. And you deserve some happiness.”
“Maybe finding Elaine will keep me occupied from thinking about prophecies. Silver lining and all that.”
I was about to agree with him when Tommy sprinted over to us. “You need to come to the medical bay. Now.”
He didn’t have to ask twice, and Mordred and I ran after him, through the reception and into the lift, going underground several floors to the medical facility. We followed Tommy down a hospital-like corridor and into a room at the far end. The first thing I saw was Grayson standing over a crumpled Irkalla.