“They want everything,” Ari corrected.
The crowds pushed them deeper into the tournament ring, and soon they were closed in, dozens of people on all sides. Val peeled away, calling out, “I’ll find you after!” The mead that had seemed brilliant a minute ago was now buzzing through Merlin, turning him anxious.
“Were you flirting with my friend?” Ari shouted over the roar of the crowds.
“What?” Merlin asked, feeling as caught as a rabbit shivering in a hutch. Something about Ari demanded honesty—maybe because she seemed incapable of lies. “I don’t know how to flirt with anyone,” Merlin answered, which was the truth. “I’m too busy helping Arthur.”
“So if I refuse this whole destiny thing, you’ll go out with a cute boy?”
Merlin wished it was that simple. He opened his mouth to say so, but Ari was smiling her mischief at Merlin for the first time since she’d dragged him onto Error. Merlin could feel how real and valuable that smile was. It could have been currency on a lonely planet.
The trumpets hit their highest notes, and Merlin turned to watch as horses filled the ring. At first he worried he was drunker than he’d previously calculated. The creatures appeared to be made of metal, with stiff shining flanks, clanging hooves, and electric-blue eyes. None of Merlin’s traveling companions seemed troubled by their presence, though, and Merlin tried to play along as the riders circled and a man with brass lungs announced their names.
“Whoa,” Kay said, pointing out a girl with aggressively blond hair, black armor, and a hard seat, posting around the ring to deafening cheers. “That’s her! That’s the black knight!”
“The one who handed your asses to you at camp?” Ari asked, looking at Lam and Kay.
“Yeah,” Lamarack said. “She’s so… awesome.” They sighed. Kay sighed.
Merlin had ungenerous thoughts about his F students. Especially as he watched the black knight break into a canter, soaring like an arrow from one end of the ring to the other. She swirled her sword through the air and the crowd cheered as if it had been lit on fire. How did Merlin get a knight like that for Ari’s team?
The great doors around the ring closed. Merlin’s cares felt as though they’d been left outside. The tournament began, and the black knight took down several opponents with ease: the green knight, the crimson knight, the rainbow knight. The crowd whooped. Merlin whooped along with them. He was just relaxed enough to hum a few notes and dance another flagon of mead from a passing tray into his hands. Ari gave him a sharp look. Merlin tried to look innocent as he sipped. The drink disappeared at an alarming rate. It stripped away the last of his worries. He even thought about asking Ari if they could stay long enough to visit this Knight Club.
Then a hard shadow passed over the crowd, and everyone looked up. “What?” Merlin asked. “Is it going to rain?”
“That was no storm cloud.” Ari grabbed Merlin’s flagon and downed the last few sips. The tournament had paused unnaturally, but now the clash of the fighters came back at full volume.
“What color is our doom today?” Kay asked.
“Want to take bets?” Lam asked. “Loser buys the winner another drink?”
“What are they talking about?” Merlin whispered to Ari.
“White Mercer ships are made to be seen. That’s what they use when they want you to pay attention. Black ships blend with space. That’s the nothing-to-see-here option.”
“White,” Lam said.
“Definitely black,” Kay argued.
They all looked up—at a pair of enormous shapes taking over the sky. A white ship and a black one.
“That’s… I’ve never seen that before,” Lam said.
Betting dissolved, drinks suddenly forgotten. Ari turned to Merlin. “Can you hide me?”
The trick Merlin had used in the alley on the moon wouldn’t work here—Ari could be seen from too many angles. He thought about trying to magic her straight out of the ring, but he couldn’t see where she would land. Then again, maybe Merlin didn’t need to get Ari out of the tournament. Maybe she needed to be deeper in.
He pulled her close and whispered, “I know a place no Mercer agents will look for you. And, what’s more, you can continue your training. Think of it as a two-for-one special!” He hummed a harmony to the blare of the trumpets, sprinkled his fingers through the air—
And Ari vanished.
The cyborg horse between Ari’s legs was close to overheating. That was her first thought. Her second was to wonder what was so heavy. Ari glanced at the long, unwieldy lance in her right hand and then the shield bound to her left forearm.
Merlin had magicked her into one of the knights’ suits of armor.
In the jousting ring.
Shit.
She reeled back, trying to see the sky through the narrow eye slit of her helmet. The salt-and-pepper Mercer fleet was gone. A trumpet rang out, dragging her attention back to the ring. In the center, a hook-backed man dressed in green and gold jester fanfare dropped a red flag, and the crowd screamed their cheers. Kay’s beloved former crush—the knight with the black plume on her helmet—spurred her horsebot into a sprint, straight for Ari.
“Did your horse short-circuit?”
“What?” Ari’s voice banged around inside her helmet as she looked down at what she could only assume was her squire.
“Try the override,” he said, touching a button on the horse’s neck. In a rearing kick that nearly sent Ari tumbling ass over elbow, her cyborg steed bolted down the lane toward the black knight—who was still bolting toward her. The crowd grew louder, echoing in Ari’s armor and making her bones rattle. The black knight was close. Ari could nearly see her eyes beneath her helmet’s pointed visor. What to do? What to do?
Flinch. Ari turned sideways, dropping the lance and gluing herself behind her shield. The black knight’s lance exploded in a shower of shards all over her, but she somehow stayed upright. Ari waited for the planet to quit vibrating, while her preprogrammed horse took her back to the starting point.
Her squire shoved the lance back in her hand, his eyebrows drawn low. “Come on, Pete. Remember how we practiced. It’s one to one now. Next busted tip goes on to the final round, and don’t make me remind you what you get if you win.”
Somewhere in the still-vibrating corners of Ari’s mind, she wondered what she would get if she won. She looked to the sidelines, unsurprised to find Merlin, Kay, and Lam cheering her on. Merlin waved and grinned, and she waved back. After all, that had been kind of… thrilling.
Ari adjusted herself within the armor, leaning into the joints at the elbows and shoulders. This wasn’t her first time in full jousting gear. That first year at knight camp, Ari had been on the line with Lam, Kay… and Gwen. Val kept to the sidelines, tying on the tightest corsets until he nearly passed out. Ari had wanted to be a knight. She’d believed in the honor, loyalty, and comradery… until it felt fake. Like pointless pageantry. People like Gweneviere took it so seriously that Ari didn’t want to play anymore.
Ari glanced at her brother and his shining black eye. Merlin’s taunt about using her brawn and not her brain riled through her like a blast of steam through an engine.
Or was it remembering Gwen?
She was watching now, wasn’t she?
Then you know what? Ari would give her something to watch.
When the jester dropped the flag again, Ari’s horse was off the mark faster than the black knight’s, sprinting toward grave injury, if not certain death. The black knight drew closer, the moment tighter, and the crowd louder—until lances crashed. Ari’s erupted in a spray of wood, while the black knight’s shot to the side.
Ari trotted around the ring holding her broken lance aloft and screaming a battle cry that felt oh so appropriate. The crowd ate it up. Her eyes trailed to the lofted pavilion in the center of the stands where Val clapped with a distracted expression beside Lionel’s young queen—who had the audacity to give Ari an approving nod.
“You still lov
e playing games, huh?” Ari’s words soured the air in her helmet. She sat straighter in her saddle and watched as Gwen turned her face toward the sky. The Mercer ships were still missing. What game were they playing?
Ari clopped back toward her squire, who looked pretty disappointed. “Hey, didn’t I win?”
“Get down and ready for the next round!” He pulled her off the horse, took her lance and shoved a sheathed sword in her hand.
Ari began to hand it back. The sheath was jeweled and distinctly not hers, but when she tugged on the pommel, she found that it was her sword. Apparently she and Excalibur were both hiding in fancy armor. “What am I supposed to do now?” she asked.
“Oh, Lord, Pete. How much did you drink before the tournament? This is the last time I squire for hopeless contenders.” He grabbed her shoulders and swung her to face the center of the ring. “Now you’ve got to defeat the black knight. In hand-to-hand combat.” He chuckled. “Good luck,” he added, with all the sincerity of a middle finger.
Ari walked toward the center of the ring while the black knight waited with her sword poised at the ready like she could hold that huge piece of metal aloft forever. Show-off.
Ari knew enough about Lionel to know this was all about showmanship, but she was tiring. She drew her sword and tossed the sheath in the hard-packed sand. The cheers did not buoy her as she walked to the fight. Each step was heavier than the last, and she was sweating through whatever clothes Merlin had magicked beneath the suit of armor along with her skin and bones.
The black knight’s eyes were hidden in the shade of her visor, and Ari thought that could only help. She didn’t wait for trumpets or flags or fanfare. She swung at the black knight, loving the ringing clash of their swords connecting and surprising the knight.
How’s that for brains, Merlin?
They fought in a tight circle, and Ari was fully aware of Excalibur’s prowess. The sword directed her advances. Her retreats. Even her footsteps felt like a dance set to a strict tune. Excalibur was enjoying this, but then, so was Ari—especially when she realized that the black knight had stopped playing. The girl’s swordplay went from rigid to motivated to on fire. Ari’s arms burned from the strain as they clashed and came together again and again. And she really—truly—wasn’t ready when Excalibur went flying from her gloved hand and landed in the dirt.
The crowd went berserk, and Ari fell on her butt.
The black knight stood over her, sword point resting on Ari’s breastplate.
“You people aren’t playing to the death, are you?” Ari said between labored breaths.
The black knight cocked her head at Ari’s voice and then used her sword to whip off Ari’s helmet. Ari glanced around as the crowd rioted with what felt like psychotic joy.
The black knight removed her own helmet. “You are an impostor.”
Ari took in the grown-up version of Kay and Lam’s favorite bully. She was young, like all of them, but she wore it better. Her neck was thick, her hair brilliantly blond, and her pale cheeks flamed. She’d been Gwen’s best friend—and yet she did not recognize Ari.
“Answer,” she said, her voice tight.
“I’m the forty-second reincarnation of King Arthur,” Ari said, surprised to find that those words left her lips with the weight of a truth.
The black knight squinted, as if she were trying to see past Ari’s strange words. “I remember you. You’re that girl with the awful brother. What was his name? Keith?”
“Kay?” Ari tried not to laugh. She couldn’t wait to call him Keith and see how well that went over. “He’s going to be tickled you remember him.”
The black knight squinted even harder. Then she looked up to the pavilion box. Ari glanced over her shoulder, too. Gwen was leaning over the railing, looking at Ari with either pleasure or immense disapproval. Funny how they looked related on her poised, beautiful face.
“Get your sword.” The black knight turned her back, waiting for Ari to get to her feet.
Now that they were helmetless, Ari could feel the riot of the crowd more intensely. She dropped her leather gloves in the sand before picking up Excalibur. Her grip tightened around the already familiar handle in a way that centered her. This time Ari didn’t attack first, but reviewed the blond force of nature.
All right, Merlin, I’ll bite. What is the black knight up to?
“For my queen,” the girl said quietly, snapping Ari’s concentration.
She lunged, and Ari wasn’t sure how to move, but Excalibur directed her, coming down to meet the knight’s parry with extreme force. The black knight’s sword shattered above the hilt, and Ari recoiled from the calamity of breaking metal. When she reopened her eyes, the black knight was on her knees before Ari.
The entire tournament ring had gone silent.
Ari looked at Excalibur and then what was left of the black knight’s blade. She had won, but she had definitely not won. Touché, Merlin.
“Make way for the queen!” Val’s voice rang out.
An aisle appeared through the crowd as people pushed back, allowing the young queen to descend from her pavilion and cross the tournament ring.
Gwen came toward Ari with a steadiness that was unnerving. The last three years had given Gwen a substantial boost in the curve department, a lush sheen to her long brown hair, and a lavender gown undoubtedly worth more than a brand-new astro-class spaceship. The years had done nothing to soften her fiery brown gaze or alter the way Ari’s blood rushed at the sight of her. Not necessarily in a good way. Not in a bad way, either.
Her steps took a hard right, veering from their direct path to Ari and choosing her champion instead. Ari gripped Excalibur while Gwen guided the black knight to her feet, kissing her sweetly on the mouth in a way that made Ari shove Excalibur into the packed dirt. Gwen was playing with her. Gwen was always playacting. And for the first time, Ari wanted to play as well. She reached into her knowledge of Gwen, into their tense past. What could she use to get through to her? To win Gwen’s help with Mercer?
The black knight, Jordan—Ari remembered her name now—and Gwen conferred in hushed voices. At one point, they looked at Ari and then continued to whisper. Ari ached for the crowd to do something. Scream or cheer. Even boo. The silence felt like the weight of the dead.
Finally, Gwen turned to Ari, and the black knight stepped back.
The closer Gwen got, the smaller she became. More petite than Ari remembered, but then, Gwen hadn’t shrunk; Ari had grown. If Ari’s body matched Excalibur’s in length and steel, this girl was a jeweled dagger. Treasured, yet dangerous. Concealed in a boot. Or a bodice.
Ari’s eyes slipped to Gwen’s glorious cleavage before she stared at the brown braid that wreathed the queen’s head, hoping to mask her ogle. “Shouldn’t queens have crowns?” Her nerves were turning her cocky. That wouldn’t get her far.
“Shouldn’t knights have armor that fits?” Gwen shot back, eyes openly on Ari’s oversize breastplate. “I take it you’ve done something to the original contender. Unless you’ve changed your name to Pete, Ari.”
There.
Right there.
Gwen’s voice had faltered on Ari’s name, and they’d both heard it.
“Long time, no see?” Ari said, using a soft hand to squeeze Gwen’s shoulder.
“Are we pretending to be friends now?”
“We were friends,” Ari said truthfully. “At the very least.” Gwen’s cheeks pinked, and Ari felt the better parts of Merlin’s advice. She didn’t need the brunt of her honesty; she needed the best edge of it. “We drove each other wild. That doesn’t mean we weren’t friends.”
Gwen looked down, stepping much closer. “What the hell are you doing here? Three years and you just show back up in the middle of my tournament ring?”
“Trying to save Val from Mercer’s wrath.”
“And you put my entire planet in the cross fire?”
“What?”
“I doubt it will surprise you to hear that the Mercer
force now residing in our spaceport has issued a warrant for your immediate arrest. I’ve been ordered to turn you over.” Ari opened her mouth, but the queen held up a finger. “What I want to know—and if you lie, I’ll have Jordan stick you like a hunk of lamb—is why Mercer is after you. What have you done to incense the most persistent amoral force in this universe?”
Ari couldn’t have lied if she wanted to, but she doubted Gwen was ready for all of her truths. “I snuck onto Old Earth. And I accidentally helped my friend over there break a moon colony. And I’m Ketchan… and I’m not behind the barrier.”
The queen flared her eyes, a calculating look that was no small part intimidating.
“I’ve never lied to you, Gwen. Not even when you were lying to me.”
Gwen sighed with a slight growl that slipped through Ari’s armor and rubbed along her skin like a purring cat. The feeling amplified as the crowd began a methodic, expectant clap.
“What are they doing?” Ari asked.
“They’re excited because I’m going to kiss you.”
“That’s what the winner receives for this tournament?”
“No, this is the final round. Only three contenders have made it this far. Jordan does not throw a fight unless I ask, and no one has ever beaten her. Including you.”
“More pageantry,” Ari said. “More lies.”
“Pageantry isn’t a lie, Ari.” Gwen stepped closer, her heart-shaped face turned straight up, eyes afire. “It’s a performance.”
Ari was a fair amount taller. She would need to lean down to agree to this kiss, and she held on to that distance as if it kept her safe. “So, Gwen,” Ari’s voice frayed, pulled apart by the storm in her pulse, “for the sake of this performance, should we pretend this is our first kiss?”
“Damn you, Ari.”
Gwen seized the neck of Ari’s breastplate and drew her down in a swift move.
Ari expected something chaste, but she was wrong. She was always wrong when it came to Gwen. The queen’s lips were soft but in charge. They pulled her further into the kiss with a seamless energy. And when Ari’s breath slipped out in surprise, the queen’s mouth stole her air.
Once & Future Page 7
