It had been a rainy summer day, and Gwen pulled her raincoat more tightly around her. She tossed her head, smoothing out the damp strawberry-blond hair which she had permitted to grow to shoulder length because that was the way He liked it. She smiled mirthlessly to herself. Lance had always insisted that she keep it short. She wondered what he would say now.
She wondered for the umpteenth time if she should have told Arthur she was coming back to her former home to finally reclaim items she'd abandoned when he'd carried her away. How long had it been? she wondered. She couldn't quite recall, for the past months had been idyllic. Although Arthur had been residing in his more traditional-style apartment, he and Gwen had found many an evening to sneak off to the castle and have, as Arthur referred to it, a dalliance.
In addition her self-respect had shot up a hundredfold when she'd been voted president of Arthur's election committee. Merlin had pitched a holy fit on that score, but it had been fair and square. Everyone who worked with Arthur had come to genuinely like Gwen, and she'd blossomed under the appreciation to become a hard-working, quick thinking, aggressive woman-the woman she'd always had the potential to be, until Lance had smothered it. But he could only smother it for as long as he was an influence on her. And now that influence had been broken.
And yet... and yet...
She was back. Because she'd left behind books, clothing, and other personal possessions.
But mostly because she had left behind a part of herself. And she wanted to reclaim it, clear up the "unfinished business" between herself and Lance. Last time she'd left, she had been swept up and saved by her shining knight (and what a warm feeling just thinking of that moment gave her). This time she wanted to walk out on her own, head held high. It was what she knew she needed.
So why, with all that, did she feel a mixture of disappointment and relief that Lance might not be home? That her big confrontation would not occur? She didn't know, but rather than stand in the hallway and procrastinate any longer, she reached into her purse and pulled out her keys.
It didn't occur to her until that moment that Lance might have changed the lock. Fortunately he hadn't. She opened the door and stepped into the apartment.
A woman was lying on the couch, waiting for her.
Gwen's breath caught in surprise, and she glanced at the door to make sure that she had the right apartment.
"Oh, yes," said the woman. "You have the right place. Come in, Gwen, come in."
Gwen walked in slowly, cautiously, the hair on the back of her neck prickling. The apartment was dark, illuminated only by the hazy glow of the television set which faced the couch. "Do I, urn, know you?"
The glare from the television played odd light images off the woman's angular face,-flickering, giving her a look of non-substance. She was wearing a long black gown with a low-cut front which displayed a generous amount of cleavage. Again Gwen said slowly, "I don't know you ... do I?"
"From another time," said the woman slowly. "Another life. However, I won't take it as a personal affront that you don't recall me. My name is Morgan."
Gwen blinked. "Morgan. Morgan ... Le Fey?"
Morgan inclined her head graciously.
"Arthur's sister?"
"Half sister, if you please, my child."
"I ... I thought you were dead. A long time ago." Gwen felt a weakening in her knees, and she rested one hand against the wall to support herself. She saw the look in Morgan's eye when Arthur was mentioned, and for the first time that she could ever recall, she actually feared for her life. She wanted to run screaming from the apartment, but some instinct warned her that backing down from Morgan now would most certainly mean her end.
Morgan shrugged. "That is what was believed. Of me. Of Arthur. Of Merlin. But it's difficult to extinguish pure good ... or pure evil." She laughed. "Tell me, Gwen ... do I look evil?"
"I'm not... no. That is... I'm not sure."
"Looks can be deceiving," said Morgan pleasantly. "I'll tell you a secret, my child-good, evil, it's all subjective. No one really knows what good and evil is, except that those in charge invariably judge themselves good, and those who are not are judged evil by those who have judged themselves good. Do you see? And if I were in charge, I would be able to label as evil the actions of those whom I did not like, and I would be considered good. And who would there be to say me nay?" She gestured for Gwen to come toward her. "I have something to show you."
But Gwen didn't move from the wall. "Why haven't you then? Tried to put yourself in charge, I mean?"
Morgan smiled. "Oh, my darling, if you could only have seen what I've seen all these centuries. When Arthur was first locked away in that cavern, after his near-fatal wound in battle, I could scarcely believe my good fortune. Arthur was gone. Merlin was already long gone. The world was easy pickings for me, or so I thought.
"The problem was, I had spent much of my life's work on Arthur's destruction. It had become such an obsession for me that, once he was out of the way, I found myself then facing the rest of the world. It was, to put it mildly, daunting."
She sat up, tucking her long legs under her. She patted the couch next to her, but Gwen still kept her distance. Morgan shrugged. "Oh, I had my followers. I had demons upon whom I could call for assistance. But many of these were susceptible to cold steel-very susceptible.
In any sort of pitched battle my forces would have been slaughtered, and not all my mag-icics could have prevented it. So I appeared at courts, but my name and image were already well-known. Many kings and landowners would not even let me in to their homes, and those who did, did so only under feeling of obligation to their departed liege, Arthur. And they kept quite a close eye on me, I can assure you.
"So I became a wanderer, plotting as I wandered how I could possibly, as you said, assume the power that I sought. My wanderings led me to some incredible discoveries . . . the infinite prolongation of life, for one. Astral projection, a feat that had been beyond me during Arthur's lifetime. And the most depressing discovery of all-that time was against me. The world was growing, my pet. Beyond my meager ability to control it.''
She got up from the sofa, then, with a little huff of impatience, and walked over to Gwen. She stroked Gwen's cheek gently, and Gwen shivered with horror at the coldness of the woman's touch.
"Oh, I kept my hand in, of course. At the time I was very embittered, you see. I had been given a world that was free of Arthur and Merlin, and yet that world had not become the easy pickings I thought it would be. I admit I had considered no further than what would happen once those two blights were gone. Once they were, I had nothing. So I vented my frustration.
I like to think I cut my own swath through history. A plague here, a disaster there. A normal man who inexplicably begins slaughtering helpless innocents. A demon cult arising, performing ritual sacrifices. Fortunes lost, lives destroyed." She shook her head. "But one can only have random fun for so long before it begins to pall on you.
"And finally, after uncounted years, my anger began to turn to a sense of helplessness.
Inflicting misery on others can only bring happiness for a time. And the unspeakable happened-I started to reminisce for the good old days. The days when my goals were clear-cut. Destroy Arthur. Destroy Merlin. Thwart their horrendously humanitarian intentions, bollix their plans at every turn. Bring about the downfall of everything my accursed half brother held dear. Those were pleasant times, and I wanted them back.
"So I waited. Oh, I could have set Merlin or Arthur free, I suppose. But that would have destroyed the spontaneity. Besides, knowing those two, they would have gone back into seclusion, contending that they would come out when they were damned ready."