by Mari Mancusi
He smiled a little. At least now he knew know why his teacher had chosen the girl. She was completely fearless, standing up for him against a group of armed men on horseback, like she had. Defending him—a total stranger!—with no regard to her own well-being. Guinevere would love her!
If she survived the knight's ire.
He squared his jaw. They wouldn't kill her on the spot. They were too greedy for that. They'd bring her back to the tower—maybe hold her for ransom in case she had a rich father. And while they were waiting for their gold, he'd slip in and rescue her, no matter what the risk.
A moment later, his ears caught the sound of horses approaching and he ducked behind a large boulder to watch. Sure enough, Kay, Agravaine and the other man were heading back down the path toward the castle, their prey hog-tied and lying across the saddle. She was so still, Arthur worried for a moment he had been wrong and they had killed her on the spot. But on closer examination he saw her back rise and fall with shallow breath. Good.
Now he just had to bide his time and stage a heroic rescue. He straightened his shoulders, his face fierce and ready.
While he could never, by law, become a real knight, that wasn't about to stop him from saving this damsel in distress.
*
Sophie drifted back into consciousness. Wow, what a weird dream she’d had. Being back in time. Meeting King Arthur. Sir Kay. Being chased by a gang of knights…
She stretched her hands out lazily, reaching out and touching—
Straw?
She bolted upright, heart pounding as she took in her surroundings. Not her bedroom. Not even close. She was in dark, circular cell with dim light filtering in through a small barred window across the room. And the bed she was lying on was nothing more than a bale of hay!
She leapt up in a panic. It wasn’t a dream. She was really here. In medieval times. Locked in some kind of tower by evil knights. What was happening to her?
She ran to the door, harboring an insane hope that she might somehow be able to open it. But no luck. It was locked tight. Pounding on the solid wood with her fists, she shouted for help but her cries, unsurprisingly, perhaps, went unanswered.
Accepting defeat, she sank down to the floor, head in her hands, too afraid to even cry. Those words—the Camelot Code—they must have brought her here. It seemed impossible, but what other explanation could there be?
Worst off, no one knew where she was. Or even when she was. Which meant there’d be no one to rescue her. They’d try, of course. Gathering the dogs, searching the woods, putting out an Amber Alert. Her face would be on milk cartons for years to come. But in the end, they’d have to give up. They’d have to assume she was dead. Because really, who would ever believe she’d ended up in another millennium by reading some magic words off a website?
A flapping noise at the window startled her out of her panic. She squinted, trying to determine what it could be. Her eyes widened as they met those of a small brown speckled hawk, beating its wings against the bars. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was trying to enter her cell.
The bird fluttered its wings a few times, screeching in apparent frustration, while trying to push its way through the narrow bars. Sophie watched, fascinated and horrified at the same time, not sure what to do. Finally, the hawk managed to squeeze through and fly into the room.
And then, right before Sophie’s amazed eyes, the hawk’s wings began to stretch. To…grow. Talons elongated, feathers fell away, claws morphed into…feet?
A moment later the hawk had disappeared. And in its place stood none other than Arthur himself.
Sophie leapt to her feet, freaked out beyond belief.
“A-Arthur?” she cried, gaping. “How did you…? I mean…did you just…?”
He grinned bashfully. “Shape-shift from a bird?” he asked. “Yes. Isn't that great? I can do any animal. Dog, horse, fish, turtle. Even magical ones like unicorns, though those take a little extra powder.”
As he rambled on, Sophie found she could barely comprehend his words. Mostly because she was still trying to resolve herself to the fact that it really was him speaking to her. That he had really just flown through her window looking like a bird and now stood before her as a regular old human being.
“Shape-shift?” she repeated, suddenly realizing what he just said. “You’re telling me you can shape-shift?” It was a dumb question, to be honest, seeing as she’d just witnessed him doing it, like something out of her freaking videogame. “But how?”
Arthur grinned, looking proud of himself. “Merlin taught me the secret,” he informed her. “A little magic powder, a couple magic words…”
Merlin. Of course. Sophie knew that, according to some of the legends, as well as that old Disney cartoon, the magician had taught young Arthur early life lessons by turning him into various forest creatures. She'd always thought that would be pretty cool.
And then there were the other legends, too. Like the ones that claimed Merlin was living backwards. Or that he could travel through time.
She looked up at Arthur. “This Merlin,” she ventured. “Is he…nearby, maybe?” She crossed her fingers in hope. If anyone could help her, it’d be Merlin.
“Yes, of course. He’s waiting for you in his Crystal Cave,” Arthur replied, as if stating the obvious. “Didn’t you receive the message he sent you? He told me he ‘texted’ you—whatever that means.”
Just when she thought none of this could get any stranger. “Merlin texted me?” she repeated. “That text about the Camelot Code was from Merlin the Magician?” She was so lost. “But why?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll explain everything when we get there. But we have to hurry. There's something he needs you to do and we're running out of time.”
She let out a relieved breath. Hallelujah, she was being rescued. Not only rescued, but being brought to the one man who could send her back home. “Great,” she said, heading over to the door. “Where’s the key?” Things were definitely looking up.
“The key?” Arthur chuckled. “We need no key.”
She cocked her head. “Uh, so you want to…break down the door then?”
Arthur grinned, shaking his head. “We don’t need the door either,” he told her, his eyes sparkling. “We're going to fly.”
Chapter 10
Sophie stared at him, not quite sure she’d heard him right. “Fly?” she repeated. “Maybe that’s okay for you. I mean, you can shape-shift and everything. But there’s no way I can…”
She trailed off, realizing Arthur was no longer listening. Instead he was reaching into a small leather bag hanging off of his belt. Pulling out a handful of sparkly glitter, he brought it to his lips and blew hard.
“What the—” she cried, but her question was cut short as she accidentally inhaled some of the glitter. She started coughing—hacking—she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Grabbing her throat with one hand, she made the universal choking sign while waving wildly at Arthur. Unfortunately, he seemed too busy glittering himself up to notice her desperate gestures.
She felt a sudden tugging at her feet. Looking down, she watched in horror as her shoes crumbled away and her toenails began to elongate into long, curled talons. A moment later, her arms sprouted soft brown feathers and her fingers started webbing together.
She couldn't deny it. She was turning into a bird. Just like in Camelot's Honor. And let's just say it was a lot more freaky when it happened in real life.
She tried to scream, but it came out more like a screech. At least she’d found her breath, though that wasn’t a huge comfort as she felt her body shrinking, literally collapsing in on itself. Sharp pain stabbed through her back as wings burst through her ribcage. Terrified, she bent a wing to touch her face. Her freckled little nose had grown into a Pinocchio-length beak.
“Calm yourself,” Arthur instructed, his own transformation to a bird already complete. “Let the magic take hold. Struggling will only make it hurt more.”
&
nbsp; “Easy for you to say,” she tried to retort. It came out more like, “Caw, ca-caw, caw, caw,” than anything remotely resembling the English language.
He laughed. “That’s exactly what I said to Merlin my first time,” he replied. She realized that he was cawing himself, yet she could completely understand every word out of his mouth—er, make that beak.
She looked around the tower room. Everything was crystal clear—sharp, in focus. Guess that’s what they meant by being “hawk-eyed.” She had to admit it was kind of nice; if she’d had these eyes all the time she’d never need to wear her dorky glasses to watch TV.
Still, that didn’t excuse the fact that the legendary King Arthur had turned her into a freaking bird without even asking permission. “Is this really necessary?” she demanded. “I mean, you couldn’t have brought a skeleton key or something to bust me out?”
He shrugged as well as a hawk could shrug. “This seemed easier.” He gestured to the barred window with his left wing.
Easier? In what possible way did this seem “easier”? She stared at the window, then back at Arthur, suddenly realizing what he was suggesting. “Oh, no!” she cried, shaking her little bird head as vehemently as she could. “I’m so not jumping out of some window. I mean, just ’cause I’ve somehow miraculously developed wings doesn’t mean I now know how to fly.”
“Flying is simple,” he replied, hopping onto the windowsill. “You just spread your wings and flap.” He demonstrated with his own wings and was soon effortlessly hovering a few feet off the ground. “See?”
Sophie let out a frustrated breath, then gave a reluctant flap. Her little feathered body levitated almost immediately. She flapped a few more times, then a few more, feeling the air shifting through her feathers. Actually, this was pretty cool, as long as she didn’t look—
She banged her head against the tower ceiling. Knocked off balance, she struggled to right herself, but only managed to crash to the stone floor below.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked, flying over to her and studying her with his beady bird eyes.
“Urgh,” she managed to spit out as she attempted to right herself. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
Arthur looked concerned. “It has to work,” he insisted. “Trust me, you don't want to be stuck here in the tower when Kay and Agravaine return.”
She frowned. Of course she didn’t want to be stuck in the tower. But that didn’t mean she wanted to be jumping out a ten-story window, either. “Couldn’t you just have Mr. Merlin, I don’t know, poof himself here or something?” Wizard house calls. That made so much more sense.
But Arthur shook his head. “Look,” he said, “you’re a bird. You have wings. Spread them and trust you will fly.”
“But…” If only she could explain to him that it wasn’t her wings she didn’t trust, but her crazy bird brain and its paralyzing fear of heights.
“Watch me,” Arthur said, flapping over to the windowsill. He pushed his way through the bars and proceeded to jump into the abyss. She watched as he glided gracefully through the sky, almost as if he’d been caught by a breeze and carried along like a surfer, cresting on a perfect wave. Every so often he’d flap his wings to gain a little altitude, then switch back to gliding. It looked fun, actually.
Sophie resigned herself to her fate. She had to get out of the tower, after all, and it didn’t seem like there was going to be any other way to do it. Maybe if she just forced herself to stare straight ahead…and not look down.
She drew in a breath. It was simple, as Arthur had said. She had wings, therefore she could fly. Perfectly logical and no big deal.
After swallowing down a big gulp of fear, she pushed her body through the bars, closed her eyes, and jumped, spreading her wings, just as he’d instructed, trying to find the currents of air to carry her along. For a moment she thought she actually had it, as an updraft picked her up and thrust her forward. She glided through the air, the breeze ruffling her feathers. Maybe this would be okay. Maybe it’d actually be fun.
Then she looked down.
Her stomach heaved. The ground was too far away. Losing her concentration, she tumbled through the sky, flapping her wings frantically, desperately trying to gain some kind of elevation. But gravity seemed to have other ideas. She was doing a nose-dive—fast. In a few seconds she’d be splattered against a rock, nothing more than a stain on the medieval landscape.
“Help!” she croaked, her wing muscles burning from the nonstop flapping. “Arthur!”
She felt a sharp pain dig into her back and her body jerked upwards. Daring to open her eyes, she realized that Arthur had swooped down and grabbed her in his talons, just in time to save her from becoming intimately acquainted with the forest floor below.
“Stop flapping!” he screeched. “You must glide. Let the wind take you.”
“Just get me to solid ground!”
Sighing, he carried her over to a nearby tree and set her down on a high branch. Not exactly the solid ground she’d asked for, but she supposed it was better than nothing. Digging her claws into the wood, searching for her center of gravity, she sucked a shaky breath. That had been close.
Arthur fluttered down onto the limb beside her. “You panicked,” he said, as if that wasn't totally obvious. “You must trust that the winds will embrace you. Don’t fight them.”
Yeah, easy for him to say. The same winds hadn’t just tried to strike him down dead mere seconds before.
“Come on,” she pleaded. “We’re out of the tower, right? Just pick me up again and put me down on the ground. We can walk to Merlin’s place.”
“But it’ll take twice as long to get there.”
“I don’t care if it takes all day. As long as I don’t have to fly.”
“Look,” Arthur said, sounding exasperated. “Flying’s really not that hard once you get the hang of it. You were doing really well there for a moment.”
She gritted her beak miserably. If only she could explain to him that she was really quite brave under most other circumstances. Those that took place on the ground anyway.
“Come on,” Arthur pleaded. “How about another try?”
“No!” she cried, realizing only after she spoke how angry she sounded. Mostly at herself, of course, and her patheticness. “Take me down to the ground this instant and turn me back into a human!”
Arthur flinched. “Very well,” he replied, sounding somewhat disappointed. Grabbing her in his talons, he dragged her back down to the ground. A moment later, she felt solid earth under her feet once again.
Arthur waved his wings, poofing her, then himself, back into human form. She flexed her arms and legs, stamped down on the ground, then sighed in relief. “My hero.”
To her surprise, he stopped short at her words, his formerly frustrated face morphing into one of pure pleasure. It was then she realized that for all her complaining, she hadn't properly thanked him for a pretty heroic rescue. Without him, she'd still be stuck in the tower, at the mercy of those disgusting knights.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized. “Thank you for rescuing me. That was pretty great. Maybe I can try that bird thing again sometime. You know, starting from a lower perch.”
He beamed. “It was my honor to serve,” he replied gallantly, bowing low. Then he straightened and beckoned her to the path in front of them. “Whenever you're ready, m'lady.”
She smiled back. “Lead the way.”
Yes, Arthur might only be King Arthur in training, she realized as she watched him take off down the road, but he already had the chivalry part down pat.
*
“There you are,” Merlin's voice boomed as Arthur turned the corner and stepped into the clearing outside his teacher's cave. The elder magician hobbled toward him, leaning on his staff. “What took you so long?” he demanded. “I've been worried.”
“We had a few . . . complications,” he admitted. “But I took care of them.” No need to go into details, like the fact he'd almost accid
entally killed the girl he'd gone in to rescue. But how was he supposed to know she was afraid of heights?
Merlin smiled. “Good boy,” he praised, luckily not asking for follow-up. “I knew I could count on you.”
Arthur beamed at the praise. His master already seemed in a better mood than before. Perhaps this girl had brought him hope. Perhaps she'd be able to find the scabbard and everything would go back to normal once and for all.
“Hello? Arthur? Where did you go?”
Speaking of, Arthur and Merlin turned to see Sophie stumbling out of the bushes, her hair bedraggled and riddled with leaves and her face washed in a sheen of sweat. Her eyes fell upon Arthur's teacher.
“Are you Merlin?” Sophie asked, her face filling with relief. “Man, I'm so happy to see you,” she replied after the magician's affirming nod. “You don't even know. You see, I somehow found myself here and—”
But Merlin waved her off. “All in good time, my dear,” he said. “But first, come inside with me and we'll have a little talk. And maybe you'd like some water? I think I have a bottle of Evian somewhere.”
“At this point, I'd drink from the castle moat.”
Merlin laughed appreciatively. “I think we can do better than that. Come along.” He started leading her toward the cave, then stopped, turning back to Arthur and glancing at the metal bracelet he always wore on his wrist.
“You'd better get going,” he told him. “The tournament's set to begin soon. You don't want to incur your foster brother's wrath, now do you?”
Arthur definitely did not. He'd already angered Kay far too much for one day. “I'm on my way,” he said, giving a short bow to his teacher. “Good luck with the scabbard!” Merlin gave him a small salute as he and Sophie disappeared into the cave.
Arthur turned to start down the path, back to the castle, but an odd sound suddenly made him pause. It sounded like a high-pitched humming, coming from the other side of the cave. Was the Well of Dreams acting up again? Worried, he switched direction, walking around the cave and pushing through the bushes to investigate.
