Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Parties agree that Guinevere, Avalon (a minor), and Midas will share a single, new and permanent last name, just as soon as they find one they like.

Clause 23- Sharing a Name

(Containing Nullification of Clause 2- Change of Names)

 

Celliwig looked exactly the same.

Unfortunately.

Everywhere Midas looked there were still dead stumps and acres of mud.  The rundown buildings still listed on the uneven ground.  Gray clouds in the sky still blocked out the sunlight, just as the clouds of dirt on the ground still blocked out all hope.  The people were still ragged and malevolent specters, peering out with silent contempt as the rest of the world past them by.

Seeing it all again, Midas was transported back in time twenty years.  He half expected to look down at himself and see a half-starved teenager, dressed in filthy rags.

He shook his head and glanced over at Gwen, taking in her shocked expression.  He’d tried to warn her, but he’d known it was impossible.  How could she possibly have prepared herself for this kind of place?  The woman had no frame of reference for Celliwig and the people who dwelled there.

That wasn’t a complaint.  Truly, Midas would have spent his entire life in this dismal town before he had Gwen experience it for even an hour. She belonged in magical palaces.

He didn’t.

She was never going to see him the same, now that she knew when he really come from.

Sighing in resignation, Midas reigned in his horse and hopped to the ground.  Instantly, his boots sank into brown sludge.  He’d worn his tallest, thickest pair, but it was like trying to hold back a typhoon with a bucket.

“We’re here.”  He told Gwen emotionlessly.

Her eyes darted over to the decaying building on their left.  Unlike Merlyn’s hidden castle, this structure wasn’t disguised to look like a ruin.  It was a ruin.  Once, it had been one of the largest homes in town.  Now it was just a barely erect pile of unpainted wood and broken windows.  The wide, muddy yard was filled with trash.

“Here?”  She asked, taking it all in with a slight frown.  “This is your house?”

“No.  This was my parents’ house.  I just own it.”

It was one of the first things he’d bought, after he was cursed.  He wasn’t sure why.  Maybe he’d thought they would somehow come back.  They hadn’t, of course, and Midas had quickly left Celliwig.  For twenty years, the building had rotted away.  Abandoned by everyone and everything.  He’d never returned to this spot to check on the property.

It was the last place he would want to go.

Midas lifted Gwen off her horse, his hands on her waist.  Every time he touched her, it reminded him how damn small she was.  Her personality was so forceful and big, it was easy to forget that any mid-sized villain could’ve snapped her bones between his fingers.  What the hell was someone so delicate doing with a man like him?

“Midas?”  She prompted, when he didn’t immediately set her down.  She braced her palms on his shoulders.  “Everything okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay.  Nothing was okay about this place.

He awkwardly held her off the ground.  Looking around, he wasn’t sure where to put her.  He didn’t want to drop her in the mud.  The thick muck was nearly to his knees.  His tiny wife would no doubt sink waist-deep into the mire.  There was nowhere clean and safe and clean she could walk.

Christ, he hated this town.

Midas shifted his grip, swinging Gwen up into his arms.  Fuck it.  He’d just carry her.  It was the best solution.  She was so light he could have kept her aloft with one hand.

Gwen gave a squeak of surprise, instinctively gripping him tight as he swept her towards the house.  “I can walk.”  She assured him breathlessly, cradled against his chest.  “I don’t mind getting a little dirty.”

“I mind.”

He didn’t want anything in this God-awful place to touch her.  He just wanted to find the wand as quickly as possible and get Gwen back home, where she’d be shielded from all the grime and sadness that festered in this hellhole.  After that, he would take a damn scrub-brush to his skin and pray that his wife would somehow still think he was a kind, gentle man.  Then, he might just drink until he passed out.  All in all, he thought it was one of his better plans.

Lake-blue eyes darted up to his set face.  “It’ll be okay.”  Gwen told him softly.  “I’m right here with you.”

“I’m fine.”  He wasn’t, but hopefully he could fake it.  Humiliating himself in front of her was the one surefire way to make this horrible day even worse.

Gwen smiled, like she sensed how tense he was and wanted to make him feel better.  He’d been concerned that she’d still be mad, after their fight the night before.  She’d been in remarkably high spirits, though.  This morning she’d let him bring her to orgasm, as usual.  He’d knocked on her door and, five minutes later, they were on her bed, with his head between her legs and her voice sobbing his name.  Being with her as the sun came up was his favorite part of the day.  It was like Gwen’s pleasure brought the light and chased away the darkness.

She hadn’t asked more questions about his True Love, either.  Given the woman’s pushiness, Midas couldn’t explain her reticence, but he wasn’t about to question his good luck.

“If you put a little extra effort in, this part of our trip could actually be sort of romantic, you know.”

He snorted at that.

“It’s true.”  Her arms wound around the back of his neck and she leaned up so she could whisper into his ear.  “For instance, brides like it when our big, strong husbands pick us up like we’re teeny tiny.”

Jesus.  He was just going to spontaneously combust one day.  All they would find would be some sexually frustrated ashes.  “You are teeny tiny.”  He retorted, giving her a light toss in his arms.

And he was a tawdry, feral animal.

“Well, you’re about to carry your teeny tiny new bride across the threshold of your childhood home.  See?  Romance.”  She kissed his jaw.  “There’s a country song in there, somewhere.”

“I never had a childhood home.”  He corrected, because even seeing this desolate town, she still wasn’t getting it.  “I never had a childhood.”

“Well, you’re presently giving Avi the most expensive one ever experienced, so you’re making up for lost time.  I saw the plans for that jungle-gym you ordered.  It’ll be visible from space.  And for once, I actually believe that it is something you’d buy for yourself, even without her prompting.”

Despite himself, Midas felt his mouth curve.  Gwen had a point.  The toys and treehouses and go-carts he bought were as much for him as for Avalon.

That morning, before they’d left for Celliwig, a whole cadre of plastic dolls had come downstairs to say good-bye with Avi.  She’d taken to carrying the entire Avalon City army around in a pink backpack, nearly as big as she was.  It was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.  Midas would have given years off his life to be able to stay home and play games with her.

Instead, he’d crouched down so they were at eyelevel.  “I finally figured out who your daddy is.”  He’d told her, quietly.

She’d popped her thumb in her mouth, like she was suddenly nervous.  “You.”  She’d whispered.

“Me.”  Midas had agreed.

Avalon had given him a shy, hopeful smile.

“I am your daddy.”  He’d continued, his heart swelling with pride.  “Forever.  That’s the contract I’m offering.” He’d held out a palm. “Deal?”

Vivien had foreseen the moment, back at the lake.  In his whole life, she’d promised, just two deals would really matter.  She’d been right.  These bargains he’d struck with Avalon and Gwen were the only ones that gave him what he longed for.

They gave him his family.

“Deal!”  Avalon had exclaimed in relief.  “I told everybody so!  I told them who you were!” She’d grasped his palm and shook it with customary enthusiasm.  “I was right!  I’s always right!”  Exuberant, she’d thrown her arms around him.

Tears had burned the back of Midas’ eyes.  “I love you.”  He’d never said the words to anyone before, but there was simply no way to stop them.  Avalon had hugged him tight and he’d promised her everything he had.  “I will not let you down.  Okay?  I will be the very best father I can.  Every day.  I will protect you and your mommy.  I will never leave you.”  He kissed the top of her head.  “Everything I have is because you chose me.  You won’t regret it.  I will do a good job.  I swear.”

“I know.  I seen it.”

“Thank you for finding me.”  Midas whispered into her hair.  His whole life he’d been lost, until this little girl came looking for him.  “And thank you for bringing me your mother.”  He closed his eyes against her soft curls.  “And thank you for being my daughter.”

“You’s welcome, Daddy.”

Then, he’d had to leave the embrace of his perfect baby and walked straight into hell.

All around them, Midas could feel spiteful gazes studying them.  Plotting.  Predators weighing their chances.  Any strangers were bound to draw notice in Celliwig, but Gwen stood out like a beacon in the night.  Shiny blonde hair and an expensive wool coat and skin as pristine as her pedigree.  Christ, he might as well be throwing red meat to George the kraken.

He should have made her wear the damn invisibility cloak.

The porch wasn’t exactly clean, but at least it was above the muddy ground.  Midas made his way up to it and carefully set her on the rickety boards.  “Stay right here for a second, kitten.”  He touched her cheek and then walked over, so he was standing at the edge of the steps, looking out over the town.

By this time, half of Celliwig would be watching from their various lairs. He knew that.  Since the citizens were all brainless, amoral assholes, they wouldn’t understand any complicated threats.  Best to be brief and unequivocal in his homecoming speech.

“I’m Midas.”  He bellowed and his voice echoed over the flat landscape.  Everybody in Camelot knew his name, especially here.  They knew what it meant to cross him.  His gaze swept across the shadows of the hidden men like death, making sure he had their full attention.  Then he pointed back at Gwen.  “Mine.”  The challenge in his tone couldn’t have been any clearer.  He waited for a beat, but no one was stupid enough to take him up on it.

Satisfied, he turned back to his wife.

She arched a brow.  “Really?”

“It’s not a subtle place.”  He muttered.  “Be careful where you walk.”  Just in case, Midas tested the sections around the entrance with his foot.  They all seemed sturdy enough, but he wasn’t taking any chances.  “Let me go first.”

“Is this the porch?”  Gwen asked.

“What?”  The front door was unlocked, which was odd.  He was sure he’d dead-bolted it before he’d walked away.

“The porch that you talked about last night, when you were so upset.  Is this it?”

Midas hesitated.  “Yes.”

“Why does it scare you?”

“It doesn’t scare me.”  He snapped in a harsher voice than he’d intended.  “It’s just a fucking porch.”

“No, I think it’s more than that.”

He muttered a curse and glanced back at her.  Gwen was staring at him with those unfathomable eyes and he found himself telling her more than he’d ever told anyone.  “After my parents left, I stayed out here alone for several nights.  It was… difficult, for me.”

It had scared him, but he wasn’t admitting it aloud.  He still had nightmares about the darkness.  It wasn’t the porch itself that frightened him, though.  It was knowing that he had no place else to go.  That he belonged nowhere and to no one.

“You keep saying your parents ‘left.’”  Gwen squinted, like maybe she was missing something.  “Did they die?”

“Eventually, I’m sure they did.”

“But where did they go the day you were stuck out here on the porch?”

“I have no idea.  I never bothered to look for them.”

“You mean they just… left?  Like vanished?”

“I mean,” Midas explained slowly, “when I was nine years old, they packed their stuff, left me a bologna sandwich right over there,” he pointed to the railing, “and they didn’t come back.”

Gwen blinked rapidly.  “Well, there has to be a reason.”  He could see her mind racing for an explanation that made sense through her rosy worldview of parents who turned on pretty nightlights before they tucked their babies into bed.  “Maybe your parents had no choice.  Maybe they were kidnapped or arrested or lost…”

Midas cut her off.  “They packed.”  He repeated.  “You don’t pack to go get kidnapped, arrested, or lost, Gwen.  They just wanted to leave.”

Her lips parted, finally understanding.  “Oh my God.”  She whispered.  “Oh my God.”

“It’s alright.”  He said, uncomfortably.  “I survived.”

“Well, your degenerate parents won’t.”  Blue eyes glowed with righteous fury, her innocent confusion burning away in the heat of her anger.  “They’d better hope they’re far from Camelot.  Once I have the throne back, I’m going to track them down and have them both executed.  I swear to God, I will.”

“As I said, I’m sure they’re dead by now.  Otherwise, they would have come looking for money.  It’s a thoughtful offer, though.”

“It’s not a joke, Midas!  How could any mother leave her own son behind on a porch?  She must have been evil.  Like completely evil.”

Midas adored her.  Gwen thought she was heartless, but nothing could be farther from the truth.  She was the most idealistic person in Camelot.  “Evil is a strong word.”

“No, it’s really not.”

“Black and white answers don’t come easy when everything is the color of mud.”  Midas waved a hand out towards the town.  “Right and wrong aren’t always clear.”  Especially not to people like him.  “My parents did what many people in their positions would have done.”  He wasn’t sure why he was defending them, except he didn’t want to be an object of pity.  “They were desperate and I was expendable.”

“You are not expendable, Midas.”

“I’m just saying, they were Good and I was Bad.  They did what they had to do to save themselves from this place.  That’s all.”

Gwen crossed her arms over her chest, unsatisfied with that utterly realistic view.  “Avalon is Bad.”

Midas looked at her sharply, his sanguine façade vanishing.

“You were --what?-- only four years older than Avi is now when your parents left.”  Her head tilted.  “Tell me…  Would somebody be evil if they abandoned our daughter alone in this town, Midas?”

A sudden and wild rage filled him.  Picturing Avalon helpless and scared in this miserable cesspit had the blood pounding in his head.  “If some evil bastard left our daughter on this porch,” he said very calmly, “I would kill him.  And then kill him some more.  And keep killing him, until we had her back in our arms and his evil insides were smeared all over Camelot.”

“Exactly.”  Gwen nodded.  “What your parents did was wrong.  They were not good people. I don’t care what their DNA said.  It’s black and white.  Right and wrong.  They left their baby to die alone at the hands of murderers and rapists.  They were evil.”

He thought back to his conversation with Avi.  How he’d told her that Arthur was to blame for not loving her and that she was in no way inferior.  “I never understood,” he said quietly, “why Good people are still called Good, even when they do horrible things.”

“Right and wrong are real.  Good and Bad are not.  They’re just labels we put on people.”  She caught hold of his arm.  “You are a good person, Midas.  I have seen you do more kind, gallant, good things than any knight in this kingdom.  There is no one else in the world that I trust as much as I trust you.”

“I’ve done Bad things.”  He heard himself say.  “To you, Gwen.  You shouldn’t trust me.  I haven’t told you things that I should tell you.”

She smiled a strange smile.  “Well, I’m sure I’ll get them all out of you eventually.  I’m pretty clever, you know.”

“Just listen, alright?  I can’t tell right from wrong. It’s right there in my medical file!”

“Then, it’s a lie.  You know right from wrong better than any Good folk.”

“I still make wrong choices.”

“Everyone does.  We just keep trying to do better.”

“I make them and I’m not sorry, though, Gwen.  I made wrong choices to get you and I’d do it again.  You only married me, because I tricked you.”  There was no other way to say it.  “I wanted you and I’m greedy and selfish, so I did whatever it took to have you.”

“I was the one who showed up at your door and proposed, Midas.”

“I had information you don’t have.  I’m not who you thought I was.”

“No, you’re more.”  Gwen looked up at him with the purest eyes he’d ever seen, absolute faith in his honor shining in their depths.  “I see this horrible place and how you overcame it and I am so proud of you.  You’re the smartest man in Camelot.  The strongest fighter.  The kindest person.  The most supportive partner.  The gentlest father.  You’re so much more than I ever expected.”

Midas felt like his heart was being ripped right out of his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, not trusting himself to talk.

“I won’t settle, either.”  She continued, earnestly.  “Not ever again.  I only want the very, very best from my husband.  And you’re it, Midas.”

He let out a shaky breath, his love for her making it hard to breathe.  Fuck.  He might die on this porch, after all.  Gwen was killing him.  “I will be whoever you want.”  He got out hoarsely.  There was no other option.  “I’ll do anything you ask, just so you stay with me.”

“Just be yourself.”  She kept staring at him, like she expected him to live up to all her impossible expectations.  “Think about how wrong it is to allow little boys to be abandoned on porches, because someone else decided they were ‘expendable.’  Think about all the people who suffer, because of blind prejudice.  I know you see it’s wrong.”

“Gwen…”

“Just like I know the King of Camelot will save his people.  He’ll help me bring equality.  He’ll fight for what’s right and he’ll win.  Because that’s just who you are.”  Gwen touched his face.  “The best.”  She smiled, already convinced he would somehow bring sunshine back to this accursed kingdom.

Midas’ insides melted, leaning into her touch.  “Alright.”  He agreed softly, because he would have agreed to anything she asked.  Done anything to be the man she saw in him.  “I can help you save Camelot.”

“I know.”  She said simply.  “You can do anything.”

Midas ducked through the front door, before she drove him straight to his knees.  He could think of something that would drag the kingdom out of the gutter, he supposed.  If Gwen wanted it, it could be done.  First, they needed to find the wand, though.

He’d half-expected squatters and wild animals to be nesting inside the house.  Instead, the interior looked exactly the same.  Which was impossible.  The whole place should be a crumbling mess, by now.  Instead, it was all intact, right down to the artwork and furniture.  …The same artwork and furniture Midas’ parents had taken with them when they moved.

Son of a bitch.

Merlyn must have enspelled it.  The old bastard’s magic had left the outside in disarray, but the inside was warm and clean.  Protected.  The whole house was recreated exactly as it had been when Midas was a boy.  A fucking time capsule of rotten memories.  Midas plowed both hands through his hair and struggled to rein in his seething emotions.

“It’s very beige.”  Gwen said from behind him, taking off her coat and dropping it on a neutral chair.

“Yes.”  Midas didn’t bother to remove his muddy boots as he walked across the oatmeal-colored carpet.  He’d destroy it all if he could, but the footprints he left were cleaned as soon as he left them.  “They liked beige.”  Everything in his parents’ home had always been as tasteful as their limited means could afford.  They’d had grand dreams of reclaiming the family’s position in society.

It made his skin crawl.

“It’s also in very habitable shape, all things considered.”

“This is your father’s doing and you know it.”  Midas kicked a perfectly average footstool out of the way.  Half a second later, it was right back in its original position.  “Merlyn’s somehow made it all look the way it did that last time I saw them.  And he made it so no one could come in here and mess it all up.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted anybody else finding the wand.  You’re probably the only one who could even open the door.  It’s that way at Merlyn’s castle, too.  Only family can see it and enter.”

Midas’s mouth curved.  He’d been able to see and enter Merlyn’s house.

Gwen stopped to look at a photograph on the mantle.  His parents were smiling fake smiles.  Midas wasn’t in the picture.  He wasn’t in any pictures, as far as he knew, except news reports and mugshots.  Their surname was on the engraved frame and her thumb brushed over it.  “Midas?  Is this…?”

“Skycast.”

Gwen glanced at him in surprise.  “What?”

“Skycast.  That’s my last name.  It was my mother’s name.”

Her head tilted curiously.  “Tell me.”

So he did.

“After they left,” Midas nodded towards the photo, “a gryphon called Corrah Skycast took care of me.  I say I was on my own when I was nine, but that’s not really true.  Corrah found me.  She is my mother, the way I am Avalon’s father.  Because of choice.”

“Midas Skycast.”  Gwen smiled.  “That’s beautiful.”

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders.  “So, it’s Guinevere and Avalon Skycast.”  He persisted, wanting to make sure she was serious about sharing a name.  “Alright?  All three of us.”  They were a family.  His family.  Taking the same name would tell people that.

“Don’t worry.”  She reassured him softly.  “Everyone will know you belong with us.”

Midas glanced at her through his lashes, not surprised that she could see right into his deepest anxieties.

“They’d know, no matter what our names are, because I’d tell them.  And I know you’d tell them.  And Avalon tells everyone.  The Skycasts are not a shy group.”  She grinned.  “And, FYI, ‘Gwen Skycast’ sounds pretty damn cool.”

It definitely had a nice ring to it.  Midas nodded.  “‘Gwen Pendragon’ never did sound right, to me.”  He muttered and looked around the suffocating tan box his parents had created.  “So where do you want to start looking for the wand?”

“In the last place you’d want to start looking, I suppose.”

“That would be everywhere.”

The two of them spent the entire day ripping the house apart.  Every book was pulled off its shelf, every pillow tossed to the floor, every drawer opened, and every closet ransacked.  No matter where they looked, they came up empty.

Midas was getting more and more agitated, especially since the damn house kept cleaning itself as they went.  He didn’t even have the satisfaction of destroying things.  Hours later, he ripped the last floorboard up in the attic, finding nothing.  It was the final section of the house they had to check and it was useless.

“Fuck!”  He barely got his leg out of the way in time, as the wood was all restored into its proper place.

“Cursing’s a no-no.”  Gwen told him archly, sifting through some blankets.

Midas switched to muttered oaths in the gryphons’ language.

“You know, I’m going to have to learn how to speak that, just so you and Trystan can’t talk about stuff in a secret boy-code and…”  She stopped, confused.  “What’s this?”  She held up a sock full of sawdust.

Midas winced, not wanting to distress her.  “It’s a toy.”  He admitted.

“It’s not a toy.  It’s an old sock.”

Midas stared at her silently.

Gwen’s mouth parted.  “This was your toy?”  She demanded, giving the sock a shake.  “Did you have any others?”  She looked around like maybe there was a train set or roller skates hidden amongst the boxes.  “Wait a minute, where’s your room?  We’ve been here all day.  Why haven’t I seen your room?”

“This was my room.”

“You slept in the fucking attic?”

“Yes.  I made that toy to keep me company.  I was scared of the dark.”

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut.  “Goddamn it.” Her voice cracked, like she was starting to cry. “Goddamn it.”

Goddamn it.

Midas headed over to her, his heart breaking.  “Gwen, please don’t.”  He wrapped her in his arms.  “I was very content with the sock.  I promise.”

That made her sob harder.  “I had so much and you had nothing.  It’s not fair.”

Her tears ate at him.  “I would always choose for you to be the one who was safe and cared for.”  He soothed and it was true.  “It wouldn’t even be a choice.  I would always want you to have everything you need to be happy.  That’s the most important thing to me.”

“I’m sorry.  I…”  She dried her eyes, like she was worried about upsetting him.  “I’m alright.”  She cleared her throat.  “So this sock is why Avalon gets singing wallpaper and I have four hundred and sixty-seven handbags?”

He squinted, not seeing the connection.

“It is.”  Gwen nodded like it all made sense.  “Okay.  I get it.”  She leaned against him.  “I finally get it.”  She kissed his jaw.  “It makes you feel secure to buy a whole house full of stuff for your wife and daughter.”

“It’s my job to provide for you.”  Avalon and Gwen were his family.  Midas had worked hard to earn the right to take care of them.  He wasn’t about to screw it up.

“You do an excellent job of providing for us.”  She agreed, hugging him tight.  “Not just with money, but with time and attention and affection.  And that’s way more important than dolls and handbags, Midas.”

“I just want you both to know you’re valued.  That you will never be cold.  Never be hungry.  Never need something that you don’t have.  …Because I will get it for you.”

“We do know that.”

He nodded and looked around the attic, hating all the fear and sorrow that still lingered within the walls.  “I want you to feel… safe.”  He whispered.

“I know.”  She gave him a misty smile.  “I’m sorry.  I was wrong before.  You don’t have to send me a bill for the things you buy us.  We’ll change that part of the Contract.”

“Really?”  That was a huge relief.  Gwen was onto his creative bookkeeping and demanding copies of all the receipts.  Midas had resorted to just buying the stores, so he could give himself ninety-nine percent markdowns and then provide her with the documentation.  Sooner or later, she was bound to notice.

“I want you to be safe and happy, too.  The stuff doesn’t matter to me.  But if buying it makes you feel more secure, then I support your ridiculous spending habits.”

“Thank you.”  Midas rested his chin on the top of her head, thinking it all over.  “I really bought you four hundred and sixty-seven handbags?”  He asked after a long moment.

“Yep.  I counted.”

Midas considered that.  Gwen never even carried a handbag.  “That seems like a lot.”  He frowned.  “Maybe I shouldn’t buy you anymore of them?”  It came out as a question, because he wasn’t sure.

Gwen gasped, like he’d just said something amazing.  “Yes!”  She agreed eagerly.  “You shouldn’t buy any more.  Buying more will not make me any happier than I already am.”

“I like to buy you things, though.”

“I know.  I get that, now.”  Her palm touched his cheek.  “Just know that you don’t need to buy me things.  I would still be your wife, even if you never buy me anything else.”

“I do know that.”  He said simply.

“You do?”

“You’re not for sale, Gwen.  You never have been.”

She slowly grinned.  “Considering you’re you… that may be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Well, I mean it.”  He lowered his head to nip her earlobe.  “But it only makes me want to buy you things.”

She swatted his arm, squiggling away from him.  “You’re a lunatic.”  She laughed.

Midas chuckled, pleased that she was smiling again.

Gwen shook her head in exasperation.  “Look, I’m emotionally drained.  Let’s eat some of the food your chef packed, get some sleep, and try to find the wand again tomorrow.”

Midas’ contentment faded.  “You want to sleep here?”  He was aghast at the very idea.

“Where else would we sleep?  I don’t think Celliwig has many hotels.”  She moved to peer out the attic window.  From their side, the glass was whole.  From the outside, it was broken.  “Truthfully, even if this place had the most charming B&B in Camelot, I wouldn’t want to go looking for it, right now.”

Midas headed over to stare out at the street.  It was dark, most of the streetlights dead or stolen, but he could see enough.  Men were milling around in groups, talking in loud voices.  No one was drunk enough or stupid enough to approach the house, but all that might change if they went looking for other lodging.  Gwen was too valuable to risk.

“We’ll stay here tonight.”  He muttered.  “Let me check on the horses and we’ll go to bed.  You stay put and lock the door behind me.”

Gwen ignored that, craning her neck to look over at the stable, which was two doors down.  Every day that Midas had toiled there, he’d had to look at the big house where he’d once lived.  “Did your parents own that, as well?”

“No.”

“But you own it now?”

“Yes.”  And fortunately Merlyn had enspelled it, too.  There was fresh hay and water for the horses.  It seemed like he’d performed his magic on all of Midas’ properties in town.

“Why did you buy the stable?”  Gwen asked, apparently sensing there was more to the story than his one-word answers.

“I used to work there and I hated it.”  He shrugged.  “I bought every place that had ever made me feel small.”

“So…  You were a stable boy?”

He frowned, struck by her strange tone.  He glanced down at Gwen, wary now.  “Yes.”

“Really?”  Her voice went breathless and she no longer looked tired.  “You were really a stable boy.  You’re not kidding me, right?”

“No, I’m not kidding you.  Why the hell would I kid you about being a stable boy…?”

Gwen cut him off, her eyes glowing deep blue.  “I want to go with you to the stable.  I want to see it.”  She excitedly declared.  “Give me five minutes.  I just need to change first.”

Change?  Midas gave his head a clearing shake.  “I don’t think it’s such a great idea for you to go outside.  This town is…”

She interrupted him again, this time by kissing him firmly on the lips.  “Trust me.  This is the best idea I’ve ever had.”