The Seven Swords (18 page)

Rising from the ground around the warrior's feet were at least a dozen hair monsters. They didn't waste any time. The first screamer opened its green eye, and the noise came loud and furious. The knights covered their ears. Artie turned his back to the monsters, thinking it would bring him silence again, but it didn't. If anything, it made the noise worse.

But just as they felt ready to surrender, something shot out of the lanterns and flew through the air.

The
kitsune
!

The golden fox landed on top of a screamer, and the thing collapsed. It landed on another and another and another. The knights watched, still covering their ears in agony, as the cat-sized fox fearlessly took out every hair monster. The warrior tried to catch it but couldn't. The fox was graceful and blindingly fast.

“Over here!” Erik exclaimed. “The crossover!”

Reluctantly turning their backs on their diminutive hero, the knights waded through the lanterns and went through the portal, leaving the Shrine of Horrors and its horrible cacophony once and for all.

The quiet sounds of the woods were like a revelation.

Artie held the monocle to his eye, hoping the
kitsune
would jump out behind them, give them a wink, and trot off into the woods. But it never did.

“I guess we're not going to be able to save the little guy, huh?” Artie said, lowering the lens.

“They are all spirits of the Shrine,” comforted Thumb, who had returned to his miniature size. “I'm sure the
kitsune
will be fine. Probably not the first time it's had to tangle with those foul creatures.”

“Fair enough,” Artie said as he held up Kusanagi. “We got what we came for and I don't want to spend another second here. Let's get back to the court.” Artie slipped Kusanagi under his belt and pulled the pommel from his pocket. He took a deep breath and said, “
Lunae lumen
.”

The pommel breathed to life, a moongate opened, and the knights stepped into the court-in-exile.

Immediately Bercilak came clanking in their direction waving the iPad. “Sire, sire! I believe you have a message!” he said a little breathlessly.

“What is it, Bercy?” Artie asked.

Bercilak clomped to a stop and handed Artie the tablet. “I've no idea, sire. I can't operate it. I tried doing that swipe trick you do to turn it on, but I don't think it likes my gloves.”

Artie passed his spear to Kay and turned on the iPad.

Two alerts popped up. While they were off getting Kusanagi, Bors and then Merlin had sent them messages. Artie read them aloud. Bors's was first:

 

URGENT: Escaped from Castel, currently crossing swamp to rendezvous. Terrain is more challenging than expected. Morgaine giving chase as presumed. Have spotted two scouts, scentlocked both. Recommend meeting at rendezvous tomorrow at dawn. It is a long crescent-shaped beach and can't be missed. See you in the morning.

 

TTYS,

B. le F.

 

PS: Q excited to see friends.

PPS: Have interesting news re Mordred.

 

The follow-up message was from Merlin:

 

Sire, received Bors's message. I trust that mission for Kusanagi was successful. I have tried to reach Kynder to tell him of change in plan, but the network at the Library is still down. Recommend that you send for him only after you've reached Avalon. I will see you at the beach.

 

M.

 

Artie clicked off the iPad. “Okay. I guess we have a little time to rest.”

“And try to get in touch with Kynder,” Kay added.

“That too,” Artie agreed.

“How's Bedevere holding up, Bercy?” Lance asked.

“The Black Knight is fine and happy to be resting in his old bed,” Bercilak said. “His kitty is keeping him company. I think if you let him, he would come with you tomorrow, but I advise against it. His wound is still tender.”

Artie nodded. Then he clapped his hands and said, “Naps for everybody. That's an order. Tomorrow, before dawn, we make tracks for Fenland.”

26 - “WHERE ARE YOU, ARTIE KINGFISHER?”

Dred had spent the better
part of the day beating on the wooden door of his dark cell, cursing the hoary guards who'd dragged him there and the witch-mother who'd cast him away. For hours, the jailers got a kick out of taunting him and calling him names. It was amazing how fast they'd turned on him. The day before he was the prince of the realm, but today he was little more than a bug.

Eventually they left, offering nothing to eat and only a wooden cup half full of rank-smelling sewer water.

What goes around comes around, Dred thought, remembering how Qwon had been served the same swill at the beginning of her captivity.

He paced. He wanted to get out and help Qwon. He wanted to stop his mother. He even wanted to help the fairy Shallot, and he definitely wanted to thank the other one, Bors.

But more than anything, he wanted to meet his brother.

Dred kicked the cup in frustration and barked, “Where are you, Artie Kingfisher?”

“Did you say ‘Artie Kingfisher'?”

Dred jumped. The unexpected voice had come from down the hall, and it had a strange accent.

One he recognized.

Dred went to the small, barred opening in his door and asked, “You're the one from—what's it called—Sweden?”

“Yes.”

“But aren't you in a dragon's bubble?” Nothing, including sound, got in or out of a dragon's bubble.

“I was. But as soon as these blackouts started, it weakened and eventually it went away. Now I'm hog-tied with some pretty tough chains, and I can't move because there's one spike on my throat, one on the back of my neck, and another in between my legs.”

“Oh,” Dred said dejectedly.

“But what did you say about Artie Kingfisher?”

Dred paused. Should he tell this wild man from the other side?

Sure. Why not.

“He's my brother.”

Dred was about to explain everything, but before he could, a loud
clang
shook the cellblock, accompanied by a string of Swedish curse words. Then came the sound of a door being ripped off its hinges. Before he knew it, the man was standing outside Dred's cell, shining a flashlight through the small square of iron bars. Dred stepped into the light and was momentarily blinded. “Yep, you're Artie Kingfisher's brother,” the man said. The light went out. “I suggest you stand away from the door.”

Dred scrambled to the side. Just as he got himself in place, the door flew into the tiny room, the man entering behind it.

He shone the light at Dred's face again and said, “My name's Sami, and I've come to rescue you.”

“I'll say. What happened to those spikes you just told me about?”

“Lied. Sorry.”

“Why are you breaking me out?”

“An invisible guy named Bors came through here last night and told me to wait for Artie's brother,” the man said. “One way or another he said you'd end up down here, and that you'd look just like Artie. He was right on both counts.”

“So you've met my brother?”

“I have.”

“What's he like?”

“Smart. Tricky. Although I sort of wish I hadn't met him. Then I'd be back home, feasting on roast venison, instead of standing here, wherever this is.”

“But if you hadn't followed him, I would have captured him.
She
would have captured him. So you saved him.”

“And now I've saved you. And you're going to return the favor. Both of you.”

“How?”

“This Bors fellow said you'd be able to take me to Artie, and that Artie could get me back home. He said Artie is very powerful. He said Artie is a king.”

Dred stepped forward. “He's not a king yet, but we can help him become one.”

Sami held out his arm. “Lead the way, uh . . .”

“Dred.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Dred. Sorry if I busted you up the other day.”

Dred smiled. “Don't worry. Come on.”

Dred took the flashlight and trotted out of the cell. As they wound their way up a flight of narrow, curving stairs, they heard the sound of returning guards. Sami put a hand on Dred's shoulder and squeezed past him.

Three guards appeared in single file. The two in the front had maces, and the one in the back carried a small pistol, which was a weapon not usually used in Castel Deorc Wæters.

Sami wasted no time dispatching these men. He broke the maces and ignored the gunman, who was in no position to shoot anyway since he was in the back. In a matter of seconds the soldiers were lying in a dilapidated, moaning heap.

Sami was no joke and also a little scary.

“Nice work,” Dred said, impressed.

“Thanks. Where to now?”

Dred paused. “We need to get the swords before we go to Artie. They were in my mother's room, but I don't think she'd risk leaving them out in the open.”

“So she hid them,” Sami suggested.

“Yes.” Dred thought for a few moments, then snapped his fingers. “If she wants to hide them from me too, then I think I know where she put them.” He raced off, and they threaded their way through the Castel, heading toward the passageway that led to Morgaine's lab.

As they arrived at the secret door, it dawned on Dred that, very soon, he'd be leaving Castel Deorc Wæters—the place in which he'd spent his whole life—for good. Softly he said, “Well, this is it.” Dred moved the stone in the wall, and the hidden door grated open. “Come on.”

As Dred led them through the earthen tunnel, Sami inspected the ground. “Someone was just in here—look.” He paused and pointed at the ground.

“I don't see anything,” Dred said, looking at where Sami indicated.

“There. See that indentation in the dirt? It's very faint.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dred lied, still unable to make it out. He continued down the hall, and when they reached the door to the lab he saw that it had been left ajar. He remembered how careful he'd been to close it, so he knew that Sami was right. Morgaine had been there not long before.

“This way,” Dred said, pushing the door open and stepping into the lab.

They walked in silence past all the big glass tubes containing the failed attempts at re-creating King Arthur. Dred tried to ignore these biological abominations as he made his way to the back.

“What is this place?” Sami asked in a stupefied tone.

“This is where I was born,” Dred said with a mouthful of venom. “It's where Artie was born too.”

“I don't understand.”

“Morgaine made us. She made us so Artie could retrieve Excalibur. She thought that with the sword she could finally kill Merlin. If the wizard dies, then there is no one alive in the Otherworld—or in your world—who could challenge her.”

“Merlin?” Sami breathed. “Really?”

“Really.” Dred stared into Artie's crib. There was a canvas bundle lying diagonally across the mattress. “Here they are.”

Dred yanked the fabric, and out tumbled three weapons: Excalibur, The Anguish, and the Peace Sword.

He stuck Excalibur through his belt, sheathed the Peace Sword, and handed The Anguish to Sami. “Think you can handle that?”

Sami turned the strange weapon in his hand, looking at it reverently. “Definitely,” he said.

“Good. Now we need your tracking skills to follow Morgaine and her army. You have any problem riding a bear?”

Sami winked. “Not at all.”

27 - ON THE ORIGINS OF A CERTAIN WIZARD

Kynder stared into space in
utter disbelief.

A dusty, insignificant-looking book with tiny print was laid open before him. Next to this was a giant tome full of yellowing handwritten sheets. Both contained Otherworld genealogical information, and both were open to pages that concerned one Myrddin Emrys, aka Merlinus Ambrosious, aka Merlin.

He was born in Wales, in the town of Carmarthen, in an uncertain year in the fifth century CE.

His mother was named Adhan.

His father didn't have a name.

That was because Merlin's daddy was an incubus. A demon.

Numinae sat across from Kynder. Over the past day he had regained some of his true form. He was much, much taller, even taller than Kynder now. His skin was completely green, and had patches of moss growing on it here and there. When closed, his mouth had a tendency to disappear, which freaked Kynder out a little. But this was nothing next to his eyes, which had reverted to the way they were when Artie first saw the lord of Sylvan: black where the whites should have been, with shocking green irises and snow-white pupils.

“What does this mean? That Merlin . . .
is a bad guy
?”

“Unknown, but he has been mad—crazy—in the past, and he could be again.”

“A crazy guy with a ton of magical power. Great,” Kynder said, sounding a lot like Kay.

“My guess is that, at minimum, he has not been honest about his motivations for everything that he has asked of you and your children.”

“So the worlds don't need to be rejoined?”

“No, they do,” Numinae said authoritatively, which gave Kynder a little comfort. “I just think that's not Merlin's ultimate goal. Rejoining the worlds—perhaps even pursuing the Seven Swords—for him these are things that serve a different purpose.”

Kynder leaned back in his chair. Its creaks echoed throughout the reading room. Then it hit him. “This is about Morgaine, isn't it?”

Numinae made a low humming sound. “Yes. She wants the worlds to stay separated. Much of her power would fritter away if they were rejoined.”

Kynder shook his head. “No, what I mean is that for Merlin this is
only
about Morgaine.”

Numinae cracked his neck, which sounded like a giant branch snapping in two. “Believe me, Kynder, I just don't know.”

Kynder stood. “But you knew about this incubus thing, Numinae! Why didn't you just tell me?”

Numinae calmly said, “You wouldn't have believed me and I wasn't able to manipulate you like Merlin did. Nor would I have wanted to. I am here to help you and your children, not to tell you what to do.”

Kynder put his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Will sangrealite provide my world with clean energy? Was that part true?” he asked, driving directly to the point that had pushed him willingly into Merlin's arms to begin with.

Numinae nodded. “It will.”

Kynder let out a sigh of relief. “At least he didn't lie about that.”

“He is not all bad, Kynder. He has helped you and the children. He saved Kay and Artie, as you told me, and he trusted you to raise the new Arthur Pendragon.” Numinae paused before adding, “Even the devil was a servant of God.”

“Ha! So the story goes. But Merlin is no angel, fallen or otherwise.”

“None of us are.”

Kynder fell back into his chair. “I have to talk to Arthur and warn him and Kay about what Merlin is, and what we think his motivations are. At this point they must be on their way to the rendezvous in Fenland. Can you get me there?”

“Of course. I can summon Tiberius and you can travel very quickly. But it strikes me as risky. Morgaine could be waiting.” He paused before adding, “Merlin could be there too.”

“I don't care,” Kynder said, frowning. “Arthur and Kay have been risking their necks for more than a month. Besides, if Merlin
is
there and no one else has shown up yet, I think I'd like to have a few words with him.”

“I should think you might. But don't be too hasty. Wizards need to be handled carefully. They can be quite . . . rash.”

“Point taken. Now I have to get to Fenland.”

“No, my friend.
We
have to get to Fenland.”

“Great,” Kynder said emphatically.

“Go and get ready,” Numinae rumbled. He stood and seemed to grow a foot or more right in front of Kynder's eyes. Then Numinae shook his arm, and it turned into a giant wooden maul. “Tiberius has been summoned. We'll leave as soon as he arrives.”