She took them quietly, softly.
In truth, Ari was ready to murder whoever had taken Gwen. She understood that feeling now, that push to stop cruelty. Finish it before it could cause more harm. It was not a good feeling. It was not stable or true, and she knew that this was not what she was supposed to glean from coming back here. And yet, she wasn’t going to hesitate.
No matter who had taken Gwen.
The stairs spiraled upward, upward. Ari found three abandoned floors filled with old furniture, and when she took the last turn of the stairs and spied a shut door, her fist tightened around her sword. At the top, she took a deep breath, and shouldered the door open.
Ari thought she’d come too late. Far too late.
Gwen was lying on a small straw mattress, lifeless in the nearly black room. The lack of guards could only mean that there was nothing left to guard. Ari dropped her sword with a terrific clang, and ran to Gwen’s side, only to find Gwen sitting up, reaching for her.
“Ari?”
Ari’s breath came out too fast. A blast of pain that sounded wrong in her own ears. “You’re all right. Oh, my gods, you’re all right.”
Ari kissed Gwen’s cheeks, her hair. Her hands roamed over Gwen’s belly, and as if the little one knew this was no time to play coy, they gave a nice, strong kick. Ari sobbed.
“Ari, we’re fine. What are you…? Oh. You didn’t see the ransom note, did you?”
“What?” Ari pulled back. “I couldn’t help thinking the worst. Arthur was screaming, and your rooms were utterly destroyed. I thought…”
Gwen grimaced in a way that made Ari sniff back her tears and cock her head. “You are never going to forgive me for this performance.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was so sure Arthur would show you the ransom note. There was a… let’s say secret message in it. So you would see it and know that I kidnapped myself.”
“You what?”
Gwen got up, pushing Ari’s shaking body away. She paced the tower, rubbing her lower back. “Seriously? Did any of you actually think I’d sit around and wait to be kidnapped? Of course not. This was the only reasonable path. If the legend needs me to have the damsel in distress moment, then this damsel is setting her own damn terms.”
By the end of her speech, she was out of breath and sweating, even though it was cool in the tower. Ari couldn’t help but look over Gwen’s distended stomach. Ordinarily, she wore such stiff finery. It had been an odd relief to know that she was under twenty pounds of linen and corset, turning the baby into a diamond beneath so much ruff. Now the little one was shifting and moving beneath thin underclothes, and Ari had to admit that Gwen had somehow gone from respectably round to seemingly unbalanced by her own belly in a matter of weeks.
“Gwen, please don’t take this the wrong way, but did you get a lot more pregnant recently?”
“Something shifted in my body. I’m having contractions,” she said distractedly. “The baby is just about ready, I think.”
Ari’s pulse edged up a few notches. “Just about ready like this week or… today?”
“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure I’m past due at this point. Tonight? Tomorrow? It’s going to be soon. That was my cue to abduct myself.”
Ari shot up and started her own pacing regimen. The top of the tower was so small that Gwen had to sit down to allow for Ari’s burst of nerves. “We have to get you back to Camelot. I know it’s not your favorite place, but there are actual midwives there. Val found you one that he thinks will keep your secret.”
“Ari, I won’t go back to Camelot,” Gwen said with such fear that Ari stopped pacing. “This baby will not be Mordred, and the only way I can ensure that is if Camelot and Arthur and Old Merlin know as little about the baby as possible. I won’t let this child get sucked into the narrative like we were.”
Ari couldn’t argue with that logic, not the way the legend had absorbed them like a sponge. “Okay, although I doubt we have more than a day before Arthur rockets out of the castle, searching for us.” She sat next to Gwen on the straw mattress and rubbed her face with both hands. “So you want the baby to be born here? In this dismal tower?”
“In Avalon,” Gwen corrected. “Where they’ll be safe.”
“Avalon,” Ari repeated. “The home of the ever-so-maternal Morgana and Lamarack’s hot, scary new enchantress? Is this because Nin can’t see into Avalon?”
“Partly, but also, it’s the seat of feminine power on this planet. My baby needs to be born there. I know that they’ll help us, and I think, maybe, they’ll be trustworthy enough to take care of the baby until we rid the future of Mercer.”
Ari fell back on the old mattress with a soft thump. “That’s a big gamble, Gwen.”
Gwen wove her fingers with Ari’s, sealing their palms together. “Yes. And that’s exactly what you and I are good at. Of course, I’m not sure how we’re going to get home. And then back again to collect the little one, but I’m not going to—”
“Nin offered me a deal,” Ari said, words bursting forth from the rickety dam she’d built to keep the secret. “A way to end the Arthurian cycle and portal home, whenever we’re ready.”
“And what does she want?” Gwen stared at their entwined hands. “You, I imagine?”
“How did you know that?” Ari asked.
Gwen lifted their hands toward her mouth, kissing Ari’s fingers. “People are always trying to take you away from me.”
“She wants me, Gwen, but not until I die. She wants my soul. To trap it like Arthur’s has been trapped for all these years. Nin seems to think that I’m the best
