Morgan rolled her eyes.
Dred stirred from where they stood by the window looking out at the yard.Beyond the dome that protected the city, the storm had not relented, stubbornly relentless in its mission to drown the world.
If Lancelot were at home right now, the bottom floor of the building would be flooding up to his knees at least, leaving the tenants on the first floor absolutely fucked.They were the cheapest apartments in the building, but for good reasons.They'd learned long ago to keep anything that mattered at least a few meters off the floor.For Lance, it had been worth the higher rent to avoid the problem entirely.
Morgan stood in front of a roaring fireplace, probably one of the most luxurious items in their ridiculous house—including the number of bathtubs that they could fill with as much water as they wanted whenever they felt like it."They'll go for her, if they haven't already, because the last thing they need now they've failed to keep me imprisoned is for our trinity to reform."
"I'm surprised they didn't simply kill you," Lancelot said."We're really fucking lucky they didn't."
"They wouldn't waste me like that," Morgan said, tossing her head, hair bobbing with the movement."I'm far too powerful for Maleagant to not drain dry after they used me to kill the rest of you.Guinevere won't be nearly as tasty a snack, but she would be quite the prize."
Maleagant had never been able to let go of the fact they had 'stolen' Guinevere from him.Powerful, beautiful, capable in every way, any person would be lucky to call her partner.Maleagant had decided to skip bothersome things like courtship and asking her opinion on the matter and gone straight to kidnapping.
He'd never forgiven any of them for thwarting his plans.All the hate and loathing, all the violence and bloodshed, reduced down to that single moment when Arthur had chosen to save a woman rather than let a man have her, as so many would have back then.
Then there was her magic.Merlin was a half-incubus witch who fed on lust and desire, the wild hungers of the world.Morgan was a bog witch, a witch of bones and blood and shadow.Guinevere was a hedge witch, fueled by hearth and home, flora and fauna.The wild wood, the dangerous shadows that lurked in it, and the warmth hearth all sought to return to.They were the light, the dark, and a wild something weaving it all together.A power of three, fearsome and deadly.
Arthur, Merlin, and Morgan: the body, the heart, and the mind.
Mordred, Gawain, and Guinevere, siblings of fire in all its forms: deadly blaze, guiding light, warm hearth.
Mordred, Lancelot, and Galehaut: fire, water, and wind.
Arthur, Mordred, and Lancelot: Excalibur, Caliburn, and Arondight.
On and on the triads went.The court of Camelot, the Round Table, was filled with the power of threes, overlapping and interweaving in a tapestry too powerful for Maleagant to overcome without resorting to terrible, forbidden magic.It was also their greatest weakness.He'd already taken Gale, which broke one triad.If he also got Guinevere…
"So where should we look?"he asked."Here in the city?The slums?"
"She probably lives in the slums, though she might work here in the city," Mordred said."You were out there, I was out there, so I think Gwen and Gawain will be as well."
"I was the one who literally lived in the woods as an actual raving lunatic for years, why I am living large now?"Merlin asked.
"The magic does as the magic wills," Morgan replied, and then added tartly, "and I refuse to tolerate or indulge your ridiculous behavior.As you belong with me, here we are."
"Even the magic itself doesn't dare cross Morgan," Dred said with a chuckle.
Morgan scoffed but, as ever, was clearly pleased, both with the praise and the surety of her infamous reputation."Lancelot was buried in the archives, and Dred hunts for mushrooms.Neither of those have much of anything to do with your affinities, so we must assume that my darling is also not where she belongs."
"Somewhere she'd hate," Lancelot and Dred said in unison.
"Then somewhere in the city, doing drudge work far from hearth and home," Morgan said thoughtfully, drumming her red nails against her folded arms.
Not looking up from the screen he'd pulled up in front of him, Merlin said, "There are nine hundred Gwen's in the city, another seven hundred Gwendolyn's of various spellings, and five Guinevere's, oddly enough.But I don't think she's any of them.Though Morgan kept her given name in full, so it's not impossible.There are also, in sum, about seventeen hundred of Jennifer, Jenny, and Jen."
"Oh, is that all?"Lancelot asked."Easy."
Merlin gave him an amused look."We can whittle it down.Getting rid of children is a good start.Nobody rich, but I'll set them aside in case our working theory is wrong.That doesn't reduce it by much, but it's still a few more off the list.Remove anyone who works outside the city.Thatremoves a lot."He kept going, whittling down the list bit by bit, until they were left with just twenty names, all of them some variation of Jennifer.
Striding over to his chair, Morgan braced herself on the back of it and leaned down to look over his shoulder, skimming through the remaining names."That one."
"Jennifer Carter, grade A mechanic, downtown, Gear-bolt district, lives in the southeast slums."Which were right by all the junkyards, with barely a scraggly sapling in sight.No nature at all—she must be dying slowly inside."As good a place as any to start, and I can count on one hand the number of times you've been wrong, my love, and have fingers remaining."
Morgan leaned down further and turned so she could kiss him."Darling stepbrother."
Lancelot rolled his eyes."You two are having way too much fun with the whole pseudo-incest thing.Please keep your kinks to the bedroom."
Merlin grinned, kissed Morgan again, then pushed to his feet.
