The flight to Moscow didn’t take a long time, but it was long enough to make Mordred concerned about the reception he might receive. The last time he’d gone to Russia, he’d been more interested in hurting Avalon than helping anyone. Hopefully the fact that Mordred was with people like Nabu and Diana would make people think twice about attacking, because he was sure that no one was going to believe that he’d turned over a new leaf. Hell, he wouldn’t believe that if someone had told him, and it had taken him several years to make those he sat with trust him. He pushed the thought aside and sighed—too late to worry about it now.
He picked up the USB stick from beside him and looked at it. There hadn’t been a computer on board the helicopter, so it would have to wait until they got to Moscow, and hopefully someone there could help them. Presumably after trying to kill them, as was seemingly the more likely of the two actions.
Mordred placed the flash drive back beside him, keeping a hand on top of it.
“It’s okay, you know,” Morgan said. “We’ll find out what’s on it.”
Mordred nodded and looked over at Fiona, who had the manner of someone filled with an exceptional level of anxiety. He looked around and found a small screw on the metal floor of the helicopter. Mordred’s first thought was Where the hell did this come from, and is it needed to fly the helicopter? but he quickly told himself that it was probably nothing, and picked it up, throwing it across the cabin toward Fiona, who looked up at him.
You okay? Mordred mouthed.
“I’m fine,” Fiona said through the headset, making everyone else in the group aware of their conversation.
“Just checking,” Mordred told her.
“Well, don’t. Not you, not ever.”
Mordred felt the gaze of several of the helicopter’s occupants on him. “Ah, I assume the man I used to be wronged you.”
“Wronged me?” Fiona snapped, turning toward Mordred with fury in her eyes. “You murdered, you tortured, you did unspeakable things to innocent people because they were your enemy, or they were in the way, or just because you damn well felt like it.”
“Your husband aided me on occasion. So, are you angry at me for what I did, or angry at him for his aid?”
Fiona reacted as if it took every ounce of self-control not to launch herself at Mordred. “You murdered a friend of mine in Berlin over a century ago. An LOA agent. You tortured him for days for what I can only assume was fun on your part. Do you even remember his name through the hundreds of bodies you left in your wake?”
Mordred took a deep breath.
“He doesn’t have to explain anything to you,” Morgan snapped. “He was out of his mind when he did those things. He was broken by Baldr and the people we now hunt. They took him, and for a century they tore him apart, let him heal, and then did it all over again.”
Mordred leaned over to Morgan and placed a hand on hers. “It’s okay.” He looked over to Fiona. “I’m sorry about your friend. I remember all of them. Every single person I killed because I thought it was necessary. Every one of them. Your friend would have been . . . Eugene Lord, yes?”
Fiona nodded curtly.
“He died because he was sent to try and kill me, and I thought he might know where Merlin or Nate were. I killed him because I thought he needed to die. I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things, and I’m trying to make up for all the horror I inflicted over the years. Just like your husband, Alan, did after he married you. I heard about that, by the way. Alan told me about two years ago. I assume he didn’t tell you that he’d been to see me.”
Fiona shook her head.
“Nate set it up at my request. I wanted to apologize for my past, and I knew that he would want to ensure I wasn’t playing games. I think he left satisfied with the answers he received. I wish I could take back every evil thing I did. But wishes don’t mean shit, so instead I’m trying to make things better. I’m trying to ensure that Baldr and those who helped him create me are never able to do it again.
“Morgan and those who helped her keep me prisoner did the best they could, but I always escaped, and then the race was on to try and stop me before I did something awful. I’m truly sorry for your friend, and for many friends and loved ones I hurt over the centuries. Maybe one day you can look at me and not see the murderer who inhabited my mind for so many years. But then again, maybe not. I know I still have trouble every time I look in the mirror.”
“I don’t want to hate you,” Fiona said. “Everyone says you’re different. Everyone says you should be judged based on the person you are, not the monster you were forced to become. It’s not that easy.”
“Nor should it be,” Nabu said. “I dealt with Mordred when he was crazed, and I’ve dealt with him now. They are not the same person. As hard as it is to reconcile the man who shares our quest with the one who would have done anything to destroy it, it’s important that you allow yourself to believe in Mordred. If you do not, if we do not trust one another, this cabal will tear us apart.”
“And it’s that easy, is it?” Fiona snapped.
Nabu shook his head. “No. Wisdom is never easy. That’s the point of obtaining it. If it were easy, we’d all be wise, and we’d all do the right thing all the time.”
Fiona looked out of the window for a few seconds before speaking. “I’m here to find my husband, Elaine, and everyone else who was taken. Doesn’t mean I have to trust Mordred.” She turned to face Mordred. “If you step out of line, I will end you. And there’s no one who will stop me.”
Mordred bit back his reply and sighed. “You do what you have to do. And I’ll do what I have to do, and hopefully it’s the same thing. Right now, for example, I’m going to sit here with you people and hum ‘Super Mario.’ You’re all welcome to join in.” He started humming but caught the smile on Morgan’s face as Fiona switched off her headset.
“You really need to get some new tunes,” Remy said.
“From video games? I know Zelda, and a few Final Fantasy ones. You pick it, I’ll hum it.”
Remy laughed. “Let me think on it.”
No one spoke for the rest of the journey, although they did switch off their headphones after several minutes of humming from Mordred.
Eventually the helicopter landed in a small private airfield just outside of Moscow. The moment the helicopter door was opened, and the freezing air rushed inside, Mordred wished he’d brought a much bigger coat.
The group moved outside, where they were greeted by a tall woman wearing a very thick and comfortable-looking orange jacket, the hood of which was pulled up, allowing very little of her face to be seen as fresh snow continued to fall.
She motioned for the group to follow her. There was little point in trying to have a conversation next to a helicopter, especially when the winds were beginning to pick up, so the group followed her off the runway and into a small building nearby.
The woman removed her coat and draped it over a counter while everyone else took a seat on the metal folding chairs provided.
“My name is Polina,” the Russian woman said, running a hand through her blond hair and shaking off bits of snow. “I work with the LOA in Moscow. I received a call from Olivia telling me to expect you. She did not, however, explain why you are here.”
“We’re looking for Elaine Garlot,” Diana said. “She vanished several weeks ago, and the team sent to find her was last seen in Moscow. We have a lead that suggests someone here might know what happened.”