“Look closer.” Mordred jerked his head toward the shimmering blue dome over the city.
The king grunted in agreement, but reluctance kept Nechtan’s face turned toward the city even as he swung his horse back around in the direction they had come from. North. He shouted, and every horse began to gallop. Guinevere looked over her shoulder, but she could not see Lancelot. She could not even see Camelot. Everything was swallowed in a cloud of dust as she was taken from the city and the king and her knight and the Guinevere she might have been.
She was surrounded by enemies, held by a man she did not know if she could trust, aimed at a land where they served a queen both dark and wondrous.
So be it, she thought. Let the Guinevere who might have been be left behind. They had no idea what she was capable of, but she was finally ready to find out.