by Mari Mancusi
She turned to Guin. “We're getting out of here,” she told her. “On the count of three, get up and run as fast as you can. Whatever you do—don't stop. I'll take care of Morgan.”
She closed her eyes, concentrating as hard as she could, attempting to pull together all her energy into one giant sphere. “One . . . two . . .” She squeezed her hands into fists, forcing thoughts about how ridiculous this all was out of her head. Somehow she was pretty sure she had to believe in the magic to make it work.
Easier said than done.
“THREE!” she cried. “Go, go, go!”
The two girls burst from the cabin, sprinting with all their might. Morgan leapt into their path, her wild purple eyes glowing in the darkness. She raised her arms, her fingers crackling with electricity.
“Now I've got you!” she cried.
Sophie pushed—sending the ball of energy flying in Morgan's direction.
Morgan screamed as she flew backward, as if a gale force wind had shot from Sophie's fingertips and slammed into the sorceress full force. Her body writhed as the wind picked her up and spun her in a tornado of leaves and debris four feet in the air. Sophie watched in shock as the sorceress kicked and struggled, but couldn't get free. Had she really just done that? Had she really just taken on an all-powerful sorceress and won?
“Come on!” Guin grabbed her arm, jerking her back to reality. “We've got to go!”
Sophie nodded and the two girls charged forward, ducking under the sorceress and tearing off down a windy path. Sophie prayed it would lead somewhere safe and fast—she was weakened by her cast and she didn't know how much longer her spell would last.
Her prayers were answered as they burst onto a small road, just in time to meet an oncoming car, head-on. The car swerved to miss them, screeching to a halt. Sophie's breath caught in her throat. That was too close. To beat Morgan Le Fay, only to become road kill—well, that was so not how she wanted her story to end.
To her surprise, Cammy poked her head out from the driver's seat. In her panic, Sophie hadn't recognized the car.
“There you are!” she cried. “What are you doing way out here? I thought I told you to come back before dark. The search party was about to start searching for you! Do you know how dangerous these woods are at night?”
Oh Sophie knew. All too well. She could hear the sound of the wind dying out in the distance and realized her spell had fizzled. Morgan would be free and she'd be popping her head out of the woods any second now, mad as a hornet and ready to kill. There was only one thing to do. She gestured to Guin and the two of them hopped into Cammy's backseat, slamming and locking the doors behind them.
“We need to go home! Now!” Sophie cried. She peered out the window and caught movement in the bushes. Morgan was almost upon them and she knew she was too drained to take on the witch a second time. Their only hope was to make a quick getaway.
But Cammy evidently wasn't in such a hurry. “I thought maybe we could go get ice cream?” she suggested, glancing at the girls through her mirror, not making any movement to get away. Sophie wondered what her stepmom would do if she dove into the front seat and hit the gas pedal herself.
“Yeah, but . . . “ Sophie glanced at Guin, then back out the window. Morgan stumbled from the forest a few yards down the road, her hair sticking out in every direction and leaves stuck to her school uniform. Her face was filthy and her knees were scraped. Not exactly the best look for an all-powerful sorceress of Arthurian legend. Sophie would have laughed if she wasn't so scared.
Morgan's eyes locked on to the car. She took a step forward.
“I have a test!” Sophie blurted out. “I have to study. Please! Let's go! Now!” she begged.
Morgan broke into a run, her steps eating up the road. Sophie winced. She was almost upon them. The witch stopped, raising her hands in the air, her fingertips crackling with electricity again. From beside her, Guinevere let out a frightened “eep.” Sophie couldn't breathe. Was this it? Was this the spot where they would finally meet their end?
“GO!” she screamed, one last time.
“Okay, okay,” Cammy muttered, stepping on the gas. “Geez.”
As they pulled away, a bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky, striking the very spot they'd been parked only seconds before.
“Did you hear something?” Cammy asked, glancing backwards.
“No!” Sophie and Guin shouted in unison. Then Sophie added, “Just drive!”
Cammy shook her head, mumbling something that sounded a lot like “Kids!” under her breath. Sophie collapsed in her seat, allowing herself a breath of relief as they pulled on to the main road and headed back home. That was way too close.
“How did you do that?” Guinevere hissed after Cammy turned on the CD player and the sounds of music blocked out their conversation from the front seat. “You made the wind attack her. Are you some kind of sorceress as well?”
Sophie shrugged. “I don't know,” she replied honestly. “All I know is I'm glad it worked.” She shuddered, thinking about how close they'd come to dying. And the worst part was—Morgan was still alive. And probably pretty mad, too.
“Guin, don't you think it's time for you to go home?” she asked. “It's too dangerous for you here. And I don't know if I can rescue you a second time.” The effort to cast the spell had exhausted her and it was all she could do to stay conscious.
But the princess just shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere without Arthur.”
“But your life is in danger!” Sophie protested. “You don't know what Morgan will do!”
“That's true,” Guinevere agreed. “But what if it were Stu? Would you just leave him behind with a witch who was trying to kill him?”
She had her there. “I suppose not,” Sophie agreed, reluctantly. “But we have to do something. I'll try to find Merlin online tonight. See if he has any ideas. And you have to warn Arthur tomorrow at school. Even though the scabbard protects him from physical harm, that doesn't mean he's not in danger.” She considered this for a moment. “Who knows, maybe this could work out in our favor. Maybe he'll want to go home in order to make sure you're protected.”
“Maybe,” Guinevere replied. But she didn't sound so sure.
And truth be told, neither was Sophie.
*
Morgan trudged down the road, cursing under her breath. She still couldn't figure out what had happened. She'd had them in her sights. All she had to do was finish uttering her spell and they'd both be trapped. But then, out of nowhere, the winds had swept in, rendering her powerless and allowing them their escape.
But where had the winds come from? Who could have summoned them? There were only a precious few with the power to wield nature itself as a weapon. High-ranking druids and maybe a few of the . . .
Morgan gasped. The Companions.
Could Princess Guinevere be under the Companions' protection? It seemed impossible—after all, if the group knew that Arthur was here, they'd have swept in and brought him home long ago. There was no way they'd allow someone so important to their history traipse around the world all alone and unguarded. No, they couldn't be aware of what was going on.
But then who could have summoned the winds?
Morgan shook her head. It didn't matter. She'd just have to wait—to find another opportunity to snatch the princess. She couldn't stay protected forever. And once she had her in her clutches it was only a matter of time before she achieved her ultimate goals—regaining the scabbard, killing Arthur, and destroying the kingdom of Camelot forever.
Chapter 36
Stu raised his sword, his eyes not leaving his opponent for a second. Circling slowly, he studied his enemy, watching, waiting, looking for that momentary lapse, that careless gesture—that weakness he could exploit to the fullness extent. He knew from years of gaming that every bad guy had at least one fatal flaw. Though sadly, in real life you couldn't look it up on the interwebs.
And then—there it was! As his enemy raised his
sword, his shield shifted ever so slightly to the right, exposing a small vulnerable spot under his chin. Just for a mere second, but if Stu could time it right…
The knight readied for another blow. Now! Stu leapt forward, dancing through the air and stabbing with his blade, Excalibur striking just above his enemy’s throat.
“Oh yeah, baby. You’re so dead!” he cried triumphantly.
Sir Gawain grabbed the sword with a gloved hand and playfully shoved it away. “Not bad, not bad,” he said, pulling off his helmet. He threw Stu a grin. “Keep this up and we’ll make a knight of you yet.”
Stu lowered Excalibur, his face flushing with pride. He rubbed his shoulder; the lessons made him sore all over. But learning to fight from a true master knight made every ache and pain worth it.
“That’s enough for today,” Gawain pronounced, sheathing his sword. “After all, you've got your big meeting this afternoon. I'm sure you'll want to spend some time preparing for it.”
Stu nodded, the glow of victory fading to nervousness. Today was the day all the tribal lords from around Britain would come and swear their fealty to him. And, in exchange, he was supposed to offer them a battle plan that would protect their shores against the Saxon invaders that had been spotted just off the coast yesterday afternoon.
If only these seasoned warriors knew they were putting their people's lives in the hands of a guy whose sole Arthurian experience came from playing Call of Duty on the Xbox . . .
He needed Sophie to come back—pronto—with the real King Arthur in tow. What was taking her so long, anyway? And where was Merlin, for that matter? The magician had promised he'd be there, every step of the way, then suddenly seemed to vanish off the face of the earth. So not cool.
“Another round, m'lord?”
Stu shook his head. “No thanks. I think I need to get out of here for a bit,” he told Gawain. “Get some fresh air outside the castle walls.”
“Very well, I'll have one of the lads saddle a couple of horses for us,” Gawain replied, starting toward the stables. Stu stopped him.
“That won't be necessary. Actually I feel more like walking.” He'd never been a big fan of horses—ever since a supposedly docile spotted pony named Freckles threw him during his first-grade birthday party—and it'd become a major handicap in navigating medieval England. “And, no offense or anything, but I'd like to go alone.” Since becoming king he'd been constantly surrounded by servants, guards, hangers-on—you name it. Being the head cheese meant never getting a moment's worth of peace and quiet.
Gawain frowned. “I don't like you leaving the castle by yourself, sire,” he said. “It could be dangerous.”
“Come on, Gawain,” Stu pleaded. “I won't go far. To the river and back. And I'll bring my sword, just in case.” He gave the warrior a pleading look. “I just need a few minutes to clear my head and go over the strategy for the big meet and greet this afternoon.”
Gawain didn't look happy, but finally assented, as long as Stu reported directly back to him the moment he returned to the castle and assented to a search party if he did not check in before the scheduled meeting time.
After promising the knight all he asked, Stu abandoned the safe walls of the castle courtyard and headed out into the wild, untamed English countryside, following the narrow dirt road that wound through grassy hills and wildflower strewn dales. The warm sun beat down on his back as he sucked in a breath of probably the freshest air he'd ever breathed in his life (even if it did smell a bit like horse manure) and he wished, for the thousandth time since he'd taken the throne, that Sophie was still here to share this beautiful world with him.
He imagined dragging her laughingly through the fields, stringing a chain of daisies, then placing the floral crown on her head. She'd giggle in delight and playfully dance around him in circles, pretending to be a fairy princess as she had when they were kids.
And then he'd take her hands in his, drawing her close. No longer shy, no longer scared, he'd press his lips against hers and—
“Oh alas!” interrupted a screeching female voice. “I am doomed! The raging waters threaten to consume my very soul!”
Stu scowled. Must every Sophie fantasy be so rudely interrupted here in Camelot? He looked around, trying to determine the source of the rather melodramatic cry, but there didn't appear to be anyone in sight. Then his eyes fell upon a small wooden bridge, spanning the river, just a few yards away.
“By the gods!” the overwrought voice continued. “Is there no brave and gallant knight who will come save me in my time of need?”
Stu ran to the bridge, leaning over and peering down, trying to locate the source of the voice. The so-called raging waters lapped lazily along the shores as the sun cast sparkles on the river's otherwise placid surface. As he watched, a rather ornate wooden rowboat drifted into view. In its belly, atop a pile of intricately embroidered blankets, lay a girl around his age with long brown hair and a fancy-looking white gown, sobbing uncontrollably as she floated downstream.
“Oh alas! I am lost! I am lost and dead if no one shall save me!” she called out, seemingly to no one in particular.
Stu squinted down at her. Truth be told, she didn't appear in any immediate danger. The boat wasn't leaking, far as he could tell, and the water didn't look more than a few feet deep. That said, the girl definitely appeared to be distressed, to say the least.
“Uh, are you okay?” he called as she floated by. But her boat disappeared under the bridge before she could reply. Stu ran across to wait for her to emerge from the other side.
“Whatever shall I do?” the girl's voice echoed from under the bridge. “If only a brave knight were to come by and see my desperate plight!”
Stu squared his shoulders, making up his mind. After all, he was supposed to be King Arthur here. And King Arthur rescued ten damsels in distress before breakfast, according to the legends. And the girl here did seem to believe she was in some kind of danger, though what danger in particular, Stu still wasn't quite clear on.
But it didn't matter. She needed saving. And Stu was the only man around for the job. He climbed over the wooden railing and pinched his nose closed as he dropped down into the water below.
Unfortunately for them both, his timing was a bit off and he managed to clip the side of the boat as he hit the water, succeeding in capsizing it and throwing its passenger into the muddy river just as a young knight astride a white horse crossed the bridge. He looked down at them, gave a small, amused-sounding snort, then urged his mare on, toward the castle.
Stu grimaced, scrambling to his feet (the water turned out to be only about waist high) and pulling a slimy reed from his hair. One of the men arriving for his big meeting today, he realized. What a great way to make a first impression. He just prayed the knight wouldn't recognize him later.
A splashing beside him made him turn around. He'd almost forgotten about his damsel in distress. The girl had managed to right herself and was currently attempting to wade through the water in the direction the knight had gone.
“NO!” she cried. “Wait! Come back!” She thrashed toward the shore, her progress slowed as her dress caught on a fallen branch. She tugged furiously on the fabric and Stu heard a loud tearing sound. She shrieked in fury and pounded her fists against the water's surface.
“Are you okay?” Stu asked, watching her cautiously, wondering if perhaps he'd just tried to rescue an insane person.
She turned to him, her brown eyes blazing fire. “How could you?” she demanded.
Stu stared at her, confused. So not the damsel in distress gratitude he'd been hoping for. “Um. How could I what? Save your life?”
She managed to pull herself and her soaking skirts up onto the embankment, collapsing onto the muddy shore. “I didn't need saving, you doltish dunce!”
Stu felt his hackles rise. “You could have fooled me with all that ‘save me, save me’ stuff you were shouting a few minutes ago.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “What I mean
is, I didn't need to be saved by you.” She pulled a few sopping leaves from her hair and sighed deeply. “I had it all planned out so perfectly. I would fall helplessly into the river, just as he galloped by. I'd cry out and he'd hear me. And he'd stop and save my life—like any good knight would. And then, when his eyes fell upon me he'd realize who I was. His true love and his destiny. The girl he never meant to leave behind. “ She scowled at Stu. “But then you had to come along and muck it all up.”
Stu would seriously never understand women. “Who did you want to save you again?” he asked, bewildered. “That knight on the bridge?”
The girl gave him a scornful look. “He's not just any knight, you know. He's Sir Lancelot. The best knight in all the world.”
Stu gulped. That was the legendary Sir Lancelot? King Arthur's soon-to-be number one knight and best friend? Now Stu really hoped the guy hadn't seen his botched rescue.
“He came to my father's castle last summer, you see,” the girl explained. “He was wounded by a sword during a tournament. I spent many days nursing him back to health. Offering him the kind, gentle touch he needed to heal.” She sighed dreamily.
“Well, that all sounds good . . . “
The girl frowned. “Right. Until he got better, that is,” she added. “And then he abandoned me for Camelot. After having the nerve to actually offer me money in exchange for my love and devotion!”
“I’m sorry,” Stu said, starting to feel bad for the girl, even though she was more than a little annoying. After all, he was the first to know how bad unreturned love could hurt. “That's pretty lame of him.”
“And now I've missed my one chance to redeem myself in his eyes,” she moaned. “You might as well have left me floating down the river to die of my own despair.”
Stu squinted at her. Something about her tale suddenly struck him as strangely familiar. “What did you say your name was?” he asked.
She looked up, her big brown eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I am Elaine, Lady of Astolat.”
