Everyone from Merlin's table had already moved away, and so did not see the incident. But Percy saw, and he leaped over the head table, shouting, "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? Put him down, right now!"
He closed in on the demon, but the monster swept its arm around, knocking Percy back like a rag doll. Percy fell over the table, knocking over the centerpiece and catching up the tablecloth. He hit the ground and lay still.
"What are you doing?" shrieked Gwen. "You only wanted the sword! Morgan said all you wanted was the sword!"
The waiter grinned at her in an unearthly way. "Morgan lied," it hissed. "She does that sometimes."
"Merlin's gone?"
She tried to restrain him. "Now Arthur, try to stay calm."
He lurched to his feet, staggering desperately toward the convention hall. But Gwen's plaintive cry of "Arthur, it's too late!" brought him up short.
He turned and demanded, "How could you stand there while someone dragged Merlin off?
How-"
"What was I supposed to do?" wailed Gwen. "I couldn't fight a demon. I've never fought anyone in my life, much less some creature."
"Yes. Yes, I suppose you're right." He smiled sadly and shook his head. Encouraged, Gwen came to him and supported him.
The camera crews were closing on him rapidly. They all had tape of Arthur's rescuing the children and now wanted some footage of the Hero. Arthur grinned wanly at them, and then a thought sliced through him like a dagger. Gwen yelped in startled pain as Arthur's grip tightened convulsively on her shoulder.
"Arthur, not so hard. You'll hurt me. That's no way to treat your crutch."
His voice was a sick whisper. "How did you know?"
"W-what? What do you-"
He turned to confront her, and Gwen's body shook with fear from the look in his eyes. "How did you know they were creatures from hell and not human beings?"
"You told me."
"No."
"Yes. Just now. You-"
"Don't make it worse!" he shouted at her. "Don't lie to me!"
Tears streamed down her face as she tried to shrink from him. "Arthur, please don't-"
"How did you know?"
"Morgan told me!" she screamed. "She told me they would be. She arranged for everything." She was speaking desperately, words tumbling one over the other. "But she just told me she wanted the sword. That's all. She swore no one would be hurt. I thought-"
"And you provided the distraction." His words were cold, burning with an icy flame that blazed in his eyes.
"Yes. But-"
He shoved her away roughly and stood there, fists clenched as he trembled with repressed fury. "Damn you! How could you betray me again!"
She staggered toward him, her body racked with sobs. "Arthur, please. I had no choice.
Lance-"
"Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me." His voice was pure venom. "You're not fit for human company!"
He staggered away from her as the cameramen descended. "Mr. Penn, what does it feel like being the man of the hour?" the newsmen were shouting. "What were you thinking when you were hanging from the side of that burning building? Did you think you were going to die? How did you feel about-"
Arthur grabbed the first newsman who came within arm's length and shoved him roughly out of the way. He spun and shouted, "Get away from me!
Just ... leave me . . ." His voice caught as he looked at Gwen's tear-stained face. "Leave me alone."
He limped away into the darkness, illuminated briefly in the flickering of the rapidly dying fire.
It was late at night in Central Park. The moon was obscured by clouds, and there were no sounds other than a young woman pounding on the uncaring stones of Belvedere Castle.
The sides of her hands were abraded from the stone as she continued to smash her hands against the wall in supplication. "Arthur, please let me in," sobbed Gwen. "You've got to let me explain!"
There was a tap on her shoulder and she whirled around. "Oh, Arthur, I-"
"No, my sweet," said Morgan quietly. "It's not Arthur."
"You! You . . . bitch!" She leaped at Morgan, fingernails bared like claws. Morgan caught her flailing wrists and tossed her roughly to the ground. She stood over Gwen and laughed harshly. "What a pathetic little fool you are." She nodded toward the castle. "Arthur's not in there."
"How do you-"
"I know a great deal about a great deal. Arthur's wandering the streets right now," said Morgan easily. "Angry. Confused. Hurt. I could attack him now, and probably defeat him utterly. But I've waited far too long to dispose of him so quickly. No, we'll let him stew. You, on the other hand, little queen," and she smiled menacingly, "you have served your purpose."
In a pure, white-hot fury, Gwen hiked up the hem of her evening dress and swept out with her legs. She knocked Morgan's legs out from under her, sending the sorceress toppling to the ground with her. Within moments she was upon Morgan, tearing at her hair, her eyes, her face. Morgan shrieked in anger and indignation.
Gwen felt herself abruptly being hauled off of Morgan's writhing body. She flailed at the men who stood on either side of them.
"Whoa! Hey! C'mon, slugger," said Chico, struggling to hold onto the infuriated Gwen. "This is, whattaya call, undignified."
Gwen stopped, looking from Chico to Groucho and back again. "What are you guys doing here?" she demanded.
"We live here," said Chico simply. "That's how we first met the king. And now we see you and this nice lady who you were tryin' to kill. I tell ya, y'meet the best people in the park."
Morgan staggered to her feet. "You'll regret that," she said, gingerly touching the scratches where Gwen had raked her face. "You'll regret that most dearly."
"What are you going to do?" demanded Gwen. "Kill me? I feel dead already. You couldn't hurt me any more than I've already hurt myself. Damn you! I should have gone straight to Arthur-"
"Yes. You should have," said Morgan with a twisted smile. "Are you wondering where your precious Lance is? I still have him. And you know why? Because he doesn't want to leave. It seems he's developed a fondness for bondage. Isn't that interesting?"
Chico raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's certainly got my interest."
"You're lying," snarled Gwen. "You lie about everything."
"Not about this," said Morgan. "I don't need to lie about this. Tell me-does Arthur ask you to talk dirty, the way Lance does with me?"
Gwen stared at her in shock. "My God. It was all for nothing."
"Yes." Morgan laughed. "All for nothing. That's all it ever was. That's all it ever will be."
Groucho took a step forward. There was a switchblade in his hand and a distracted tone in his voice. "You know, I don't like you."
Morgan stared at him for a time, and then she turned in an abrupt swirl of her long black cape. She strode off into the darkness and merged with the shadows.
Chico shook his head. "She must be zero fun at parties." He turned to Gwen and shook his shaggy head. "You look so sad."
"I had it," said Gwen. "I had it all. And I lost it. And I can blame Morgan, or Lance, or anybody I want."
Groucho stepped forward. "You can blame me if you'd like."
She smiled unevenly and patted his thick beard. She then unconsciously wiped her hand on her dress as she said, 'That's sweet. But what I'm trying to say is that there's really nobody to blame but myself. That's the part that's tough to take."
Chico nodded, not understanding in the least, but determined to be helpful. "Gwen, if you'd like, you can stay with us tonight."
"What, under a tree? Gee, that's nice, but"-she wiped her nose-"I don't think that would be, well, right."
"Oh. You wanna, y'know, get married first?"
Gwen stared at him, and then, to her surprise, laughed. "You know, Groucho-"
"I'm Chico."
"I'm sorry. Chico. That's the first marriage proposal I've ever had in my life."