Swan Song

Cold Blows The Wind To My True Love Part 3

In the few days after the dream, Lock hadn't had that sort of dream a single time.

"I mean it's not rush, right?" Allen said, trying to comfort him. "We can get them after we deal with Vanitas, right?"

"I do appreciate the confidence," Lit commented, but got ignored.

Lock, having too much energy from forcing himself to sleep so many times, answered, "I'd still rather get her as fast as we can. The longer she stays there, the likelier her death is. I'm not gonna lose either her or Ozzie."

They were standing in front of the fairy forest, and Lock knew it was time to say goodbye. He turned to look at Allen. "You have to go."

"What? Why?"

"A non-fairy will be noticed right away. Also, I'm not taking Arthur anywhere close to Vanitas. You take him back to Camelot, and stay there until I return."

Allen puffed out his chest. "Like hell that's happening. I'm not letting you go there alone."

"I won't be alone."

"Yeah, well I don't trust him, either."

Lit sighed dramatically. "Must you be so insensitive?"

"Shut up," the redhead snapped, then jabbed Lock's chest with his finger. "You're not getting rid of me. I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not."

"Lock, you're not an elf, either! They'll notice you, too!"

Closing his eyes, Lock started to change his features. Small, black feathers started growing from his skin and his neck became longer. An orange beak burst out of his mouth, and he started shrinking. Finally, he turned into a small black swan. "Not like this."

Allen groaned. "You know we can't trust him! You're not going with someone we don't trust to face someone we know wants us dead. Why are you being so difficult?"

"It's my brother we're talking about," Lock countered. "We do this my way."

Allen crossed his arms. "And if I still say no?"

"Then you'll come with me," Lock replied. "You'll come with me, you'll be noticed and you'll get us killed; You'll get me killed. Is that what you want?"

The redhead winced. "That's not fair."

"Neither is being mad at me," the swan spoke with Lock's voice. "It has to be this way, Len."

"Fine," the slightly older boy snapped, grabbed Arthur's hand, then started stomping away.

"Follow the crows!" Lock yelled after him.

"He's not right in the head, is he?" Lit asked.

"Don't start," the swan said, waddling toward the forest. The tracker followed.

"I didn't mean it as an insult; He's crazy possessive, you know."

"You don't know him," Lock replied.

"Do you?"

They walked in silence for a full hour after that, the forest getting thicker and thicker. They crossed a clearing, and went across a stream, Lock flying over it while Lit got his feet soaked.

"If I catch a cold, it's your fault," the elf whined.

"You're the one leading here. Perhaps you should've chosen another route."

"I'd assumed you'd use magic to get me across."

"You know what they say about assuming; When you assume, you're an idiot."