Master of Swords

by Angela Knight

  Through their Truebond, she felt the jar as Gawain’s sword crashed into Edge’s, heard guttural, snarling curses.

  Get up, she told herself grimly. Dammit, get up! But her body refused to obey. She’d spent everything she had in that blast.

  But without her magic or Kel’s, Bors and Gawain didn’t have a prayer against Edge.

  Gawain sensed Lark’s fear and helplessness through their Truebond, but he was too busy parrying Edge’s teeth-rattling attack to reassure her.

  “Arthur!” he shouted, sparing a glance at the still, naked figure curled on the ground behind Edge.

  “Here,” Arthur grunted. “I just can’t move.”

  “Patience, Artie,” Edge snarled, wheeling to drive Bors back with a brutal sword swing. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  “Don’t bet on it.” Gawain danced forward and swung his blade with both hands, trying to cut the sorcerer in two.

  Edge parried the blow with his left hand sword. The big weapon began to blaze with magic. Before Gawain could leap away, Edge flicked the blade forward, slinging the blast into his face.

  It burned!

  He fell back with a shout of agony as the magic started eating through his enchanted armor like acid.

  Gawain! Lark’s voice rang in his mind. He sensed her fighting to cast a spell and shield him, but her magic still wouldn’t respond.

  Edge laughed, the sound coldly evil, and took a step toward him.

  “Get away from him!” Bors roared, swinging his sword like an axe.

  Edge parried with both blades, trapping the knight’s weapon between them. Rearing back on one leg, he sent a hoof slamming into Bors’s gut. The kick sent the knight flying to crash into the cavern’s stone wall.

  “Damn, that felt good!” Edge crowed.

  The taste of blood flooded Kel’s mouth, so hot and heady he barely felt the wounds marking his own flesh. His left rear leg screamed as his weight came down on it; he must have hurt it in that fall.

  Tegid’s jaws gaped wide, releasing a flaming plume of magic that forced him to release his clamping bite on his uncle’s foreleg. Panting, half-blinded, he sensed the dragon scrambling away. He blinked the dazzle from his eyes and went after his foe.

  He knew he was teetering on the edge of blood rage, his people’s version of a berserker fury, but he didn’t care.

  “Why?” Kel growled, stalking Tegid. “Why trap me in that sword? Why that particular spell?”

  “You weren’t trapped!” Tegid scrambled over the great rocks at the base of the cliff. Snarling, Kel leaped atop one of the huge boulders and watched for an opening. “Had you not been so stubborn, you could have freed yourself at any time.”

  “By killing my friend!”

  “He’s an ape! How could you call one of those smelly, revolting creatures a friend? Unnatural!” Tegid roared a blast of magic at Kel, but he opened his wings and leaped, shooting through the air to slam into his uncle. They hit the ground tumbling, raking and biting one another.

  Tegid clamped his teeth into the base of his neck. With a roar of pain, Kel twisted and blew a plume of raw fire right in his face, forcing him to let go and leap away. Too bad his kind were virtually fireproof; it took a prolonged blast to do real damage.

  Smoke curling from his nose, Kel limped after his uncle. “You’re one to talk about unnatural allies—you made Edge a Dark One! You plotted with an ape to destroy the Magekind!”

  “What?” one of the dragons overhead called. “What is this, Tegid?”

  “He lies!” Tegid lowered his head, growling viciously. “He’s just like his mother—always questioning me, showing me up, exposing me to ridicule since the day we were hatched. She changed her tune once you were in that sword, though, didn’t she?” A vicious smile curved his mouth. “She wanted me to help her prove Evar had trapped you, so I told her she had to keep to her place. That was all it took.”

  Kel stopped in his tracks as a great deal became clear. “It wasn’t only about me, was it? It was her. You kept me in the sword to control and punish her.”

  “She had too much influence on the Bloodstone females!” Tegid drew his neck to its full, towering extension. “She was always making trouble. Maneuvering, trying to make you a Dragon Lord. Boasting that you’d unseat me. But I ruined her plan, didn’t I?” He laughed. “And she thought it was Evar! Evar didn’t have the brains!”

  A curious calm rolled over Kel, cold and still, replacing his rage. “You’re the one who told her Evar trapped me. That’s why she challenged him, even knowing he was bigger and more powerful than she was. And he killed her.”

  Tegid lowered his head. “All you had to do was kill the ape, and none of this would have been necessary.”

  Kel showed every tooth he had. “You’re dead, Uncle. I’m going to eat the heart out of your chest.”

  And he charged.

  She had it! The Mageverse was back! Lark felt the warm wash of magic respond to her desperation. Just in time, because Gawain was on the ground now, writhing in the grip of Edge’s spell. It had eaten its way through his armor and was beginning to sear his skin. His pain flayed her through their Truebond like a whip.

  Gathering the magic, she sent it pouring into him, stopping the spell in its tracks and healing his injuries before repairing his damaged armor. They both gasped in relief.

  Scrambling to her feet, she hurried over to join him as he rose, picking up his sword.

  Edge was circling his father, taunting him. Lark and Gawain moved in, looking for an opening.

  “There’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, Dad.” He watched Bors through glittering eyes, a smile curling his mouth. “Looks like this is my last chance.”

  Bors swung his sword in a powerful, two-handed blow that by rights should have taken his foe’s head off his shoulders. Instead, the sorcerer easily parried with one sword and struck at him with the other.

  The knight leaped clear, panting. “You think I care what you have to say?”

  Edge ignored that, stalking him. “Ever since I can remember, you kept trying to fill my head with honor and duty and the importance of protecting mortals. And it was all just bullshit.” He grinned. “I’ve been dying to tell you that since I was five.” The two circled, hooves and armored boots clicking on the stone floor. “You’d talk and talk and talk, and I’d think how stupid you were.”

  Edge pounced, swinging both swords like scythes. Bors leaped over them in a move only possible for a vampire. Landing in a crouch, he slashed at Edge’s thighs. The monster dodged away with a low, ugly laugh. “But you probably know that now, right? I mean, where’s your honor got you? You think any of the mortals will care when you’re dead? Fuck no. They’ll be too busy trying to blow themselves to hell. Because they’re like me. None of them really cares about anything but eating and sleeping and pussy. The rest is just noise.”

  “Yeah, you’re good at noise.” Lark hurled a spell blast, catching him right in the head. Edge staggered. “And we’re sick of listening to you.”

  Taking advantage of their foe’s distraction, Gawain raced up and swung hard, catching the sorcerer across the chest. His blade sliced into Edge’s cuirass.

  The monster roared in pain and struck out at him, but he ducked as Bors darted in. Catching his son’s left-hand sword with his blade, the knight twisted it with a skillful flick of the wrist and sent it flying. Edge snarled and swung at him with the right blade, but Bors parried and danced back.

  Lark powered another spell into Edge’s chest, knocking him back a pace. Gawain circled behind him and chopped viciously across his thighs. With a roar, Edge fell to one knee and turned to hack at Gawain. Nimbly, the knight retreated even as Lark shot yet another volley of spells at him. Edge threw up a shield and lunged to his feet again.

  That spell he tried to cast on Arthur must have weakened him. We’ve got him on the run, Gawain said in the link. Blast him again.

  Lark reached for more magic as Bors and Gawain closed on
the sorcerer, swords lifted.

  “Fuck this.” Edge spun on his cloven hooves and shot across the chamber.

  Straight at Arthur.

  Around them, the death spell he’d begun seemed to vibrate, gathering itself. Waiting for the sacrifice.

  “Cachamwri’s Egg!” Perched on the face of the cliff with the other watchers, Soren looked away from the combat raging below as a sense of violent evil suddenly blasted out from somewhere overhead. He craned his head upward. “That’s coming from Tegid’s chambers!”

  If Kel’s accusations about the Dark Ones were correct…

  With a growl, he flung himself upward. “Where are you going?” another dragon called.

  “I’m checking that chamber!”

  “Noo! Let me go!” Tegid lashed and fought, but Kel only clamped down harder on his throat, grimly intent on ripping his way through. His uncle clawed at his face with a foreleg, catching him across the eye. Blood spurted. Kel jerked and lost his grip. With a furious wrench, Tegid tore free and launched himself skyward. Kel roared, shook away the blood, and flung himself after his uncle.

  Around them, the watching dragons launched themselves skyward, hungry to see the rest of the fight.

  Tegid, however, seemed to have forgotten all about it as he shot for his cavern, beating hard as he tried to catch Soren’s whipping tail.

  Gawain leaped at Edge, only to take a spell blast in the chest that batted him across the cavern like an empty tin can. Bors charged, but Edge had already reached Arthur and snatched him off the ground.

  Wrapping a massive forearm across the knight’s neck, he pressed his remaining sword to Arthur’s throat. “Back up, Dad.” Bors growled and lunged. Edge shot a blast at his head, forcing him to duck.

  Spotting a glint of silver, Lark dove on Excalibur, still lying forgotten on the floor. She snatched the blade up and retreated. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Ricky? Spell won’t work without Excalibur, will it?”

  Stymied, the monster snarled at her. He dug the tip of his blade against Arthur’s throat. “Maybe not, but I can still cut Artie’s head off.” His eyes narrowed and flicked to Gawain, who was up again and circling around to his left. “Uh, uh, Gawain.”

  “Well, now,” A big blue dragon drawled from the mouth of the cavern. Tail lashing, he advanced on them. “Isn’t this interesting?”

  Instinctively, Lark moved back, her attention sliding from Edge to the dragon and back again. Edge watched her like a cat.

  With a thud, a red dragon scrambled through the opening, crimson eyes wide with panic. “What are these apes doing here?” Lark barely understood its rapid-fire Draconian hiss even with her magic. “Get out of my cavern!”

  “Oh, give it up, Tegid,” the blue dragon mocked as Kel came in for a landing, trapping the red dragon. “Your runes are all over that creature.”

  Lark’s eyes narrowed, her mind working frantically. So this was the dragon who cast the spell that had allowed Edge to survive the black grail’s destruction. But why were the runes still burned into his skin? Why hadn’t they healed?

  Unless they were still part of an active spell. What if they were still at work containing all that dark magic? And what would happen to Edge if that spell broke?

  “You outsmarted yourself, Uncle.” Kel, covered in blood and limping, stalked his foe, who backed away, hissing. The red dragon’s tail slashed toward Lark, and she jumped back…

  Quick as a snake, Edge drove his sword through her shoulder and snatched Excalibur from her hand. With a screech of pain, she fell. As if in slow motion, she saw Edge lift the sword toward Arthur’s neck…

  And thought in the Truebond, Kill the Red Dragon!

  Centuries of living with Kel’s consciousness had taught him exactly how to do it. Gawain whirled as Lark conjured a spear into his hand and hurled it with every ounce of his strength.

  It thudded home squarely in Tegid’s right eye. With a howl of agony, the dragon tossed up his great head, convulsing, his tail whipping back and forth. Gawain barely leaped aside in time as the huge creature toppled to the stone floor with a meaty thud.

  The blue dragon reached out a forepaw and snatched Bors back as one of Tegid’s clawed rear feet gave a last lethal dying kick.

  “Noooo!” Edge roared, his eyes widening in horror. All over his crimson body, the runes flared red and began to vanish one by one. The sorcerer’s frantic gaze darted around the cavern, his sword dropping from his lax fingers as his mouth worked helplessly.

  Seeing his chance, Arthur tore himself free from the monster’s grip and scrambled to get as far away from him as he could. Lark and Gawain ran to join their liege and dragged him behind a stalagmite, all three of them hunkering into its shelter. Lark threw a spell shield around them all as, from the corner of one eye, she saw the blue dragon throw a similar barrier around himself and Bors.

  Edge’s mouth gaped, but instead of a scream, light poured from his lips in a blinding torrent. The silent blaze quickly spread to his entire head. He threw out a hand to his father, the gesture oddly pleading as the blinding light spread down his torso. The light was so fierce, Lark’s eyes began to tear.

  Then, without any sound at all, Edge exploded. A blast of liberated energies roared over them all, staggering even the dragons, who crouched against its battering fury.

  Gagging at the smell of death magic, Lark desperately strengthened her shield as the energy roared around them like a hurricane.

  Finally, with a whining moan, the last of the liberated energy swirled from the cavern and disappeared into the night, leaving them all in complete darkness.

  For a long moment, there was no sound except the rasp of breathing and the slither of scales.

  Light blazed up, and Lark ducked, covering her head instinctively. Daring a glance through her spread fingers, she realized it was only Kel, summoning a light spell.

  “I trust that proves my accusation, Soren,” the dragon said. “Without Tegid’s spell to control it, the black grail’s magic destroyed Edge.”

  The blue dragon studied Tegid’s bloody body with distaste. “Yes, I’d say so.” Shrugging, he raised one wing, revealing Bors huddled against his side wearing a dazed expression. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” the knight said hoarsely, climbing to his feet.

  “How about the rest of you?”

  “Lark?” Arthur asked in a deep voice. “Not that it’s a hardship wearing you like a mink stole, but Gwen might not understand.”

  She lifted her head and belatedly realized the Magus was no longer bound—but he was very thoroughly naked. “Sorry.” Quickly, she straightened off him and conjured clothing, averting her eyes.

  Gawain grinned and rose to help her up.

  “What was that?” a deep outraged voice asked in Draconian. As they looked up, several very big heads poked into the cavern. The dragons gasped in horror at the sight of Tegid’s body, Gawain’s spear still lodged in one eye. “What happened?”

  “He got what was coming to him.” Kel turned toward Soren. “I’m going to take my friends home now.”

  The great dragon nodded. “When you return, we’ll discuss your seat with the Dragon Lords.”

  “Actually, I don’t plan to return.” Kel lifted his great wings and shook them out. “I have no interest in the Dragon Lords. I’m sure there are those among you who’ll be more than happy to duel over Tegid’s seat.”

  “What?” A babble of voices rose. One of the dragons pushed its way into the cavern, which began to seem more than a little cramped. “What do you mean?” the newcomer demanded.

  Kel turned a cold red gaze on them. “You left me in that sword while you accepted a bigot and a murderer as your leader. You let him engineer the murder of my mother, and again, you did nothing.” Light swirled around him, leaving him in human form. Except for Soren, the dragons recoiled in horror. “I have no interest in living among such as you. I’d rather be human.”

  Ignoring his people’s collective hiss of outr
age, Kel summoned a gate with a flick of his wrist. He turned to the four Magekind. “Let’s go, my friends. The sun will be up soon, and our people are waiting for us.”

  Without another word, they followed him through the gate.

  NINETEEN

  The gate took them to Avalon’s central square, where it seemed the entire population of the Magekind waited under a sky going pink with uncomfortable speed. As they stepped from the portal, the gathered company burst into deafening cheers.

  Squealing like a young girl, Guinevere ran to meet them and leaped into Arthur’s arms. With a complete disregard for anybody’s dignity, she wrapped slender arms and long legs around him and kissed him soundly. “You’re all right!” he breathed when she let him come up for air.

  Gwen stroked his hair back from his forehead. “Of course I’m all right. The minute Edge died, his spell snapped like wet pasta.”

  He wrapped a big hand around her head and pulled her in for another devouring kiss as the Magekind roared its collective approval.

  Finally Arthur put his wife down and held out a hand to Lark, Kel, Bors, and Gawain. “Thanks to these gallant warriors, I live. And so do we all!”

  The roar of approval was even louder this time, making Lark’s ears ring. She distinctly heard Caroline’s voice shout, “You go, girl!”

  When at last the thunder died, Arthur turned to Kel and dropped a big hand on his shoulder. “Normally I like to do these things with a bit more ceremony—but the sun is coming up, and our time runs short. Kel, you have fought beside me, Gawain, and our brother knights for sixteen hundred years. And you have always done it with unflinching courage and breathtaking power. Given all that, it’s my hope you will consent to becoming one of my knights of the Round Table.”

  A stunned silence fell as Kel’s red eyes widened. “But…but Arthur, you haven’t added a new knight in three centuries!”

  “Four.” Arthur smiled. “But, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been one of us. Just not in this form.”