First Knight

by Ines Johnson

  “Your father? Doing what?” Morgan had lost the track of the conversation as she tried to get her magic under control.

  “This is for science. Just as the ancient alchemists believed you could distill gold using acid and recreate it.”

  “Simon, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m sorry, Morgan. But I’m going to have to feed you to the fox.”

  Morgan frowned. He wasn’t making any sense. Was he talking about the Red Dragon painting? But why? And then too late, she realized his intentions.

  Simon reached out and pushed Morgan into the circle of the particle accelerator.

  27

  Arthur rushed into the ley line opened by Gwin. He barely heard Lance’s admonishments to Gwin about staying behind. It was her sister that was in danger. But Morgan was more than Gwin’s sister, she was Arthur’s everything.

  When had that happened?

  He didn’t want to face the sun without her. His bed would be an empty hole at night unless she was beside him. His heart ached, as though his wound had been ripped open and cut deeper at the thought of any harm coming to her.

  He told himself to calm down. He’d sent a squire in after her. One of his best. Squires were trained to handle this very case. But Arthur wanted—no, needed—to undertake this quest himself.

  He wished he could run through the ley line. But he had to maintain stillness as the magic worked around him. The inter-dimensional travel would take him twenty miles in seconds.

  It wasn’t fast enough. Every worst thing imaginable rushed through Arthur’s head in the first five seconds it took to travel the line. What if it was too late? What if Morgan was already hurt? What if she needed him right now and he wasn’t there for her?

  Finally, the trip through the magical highway ended and let him out on the other end. Most ley lines were made over holy places. Devotion created a special brand of energy that gathered and coalesced into pockets that made magic.

  Arthur opened the door of the Cardiff University campus chapel. His boots ate up the distance of the pews. He startled the devoted during midday devotion.

  Without waiting to see if Lance was behind him, Arthur ran through the courtyard. He drew his sword at cosplayers when he saw a dark-haired woman in someone’s grasp. But when Excalibur sliced the wooden sword into kindling, Arthur realized his mistake.

  He growled his frustration at the frightened humans. Frantic, he looked around at the buildings. They all looked exactly alike to him.

  But then he felt it. A jolt, a shock of energy. He took off in that direction.

  He looked up and read the name of the building that called to him. Science Department. This had to be it.

  He reached the door the same time as the squire he’d sent after Morgan reached the door. The squire looked shocked to see Arthur there. Arthur didn’t waste time listening to any excuses, he shot through the doorway. The squire and Lance were on his heels.

  Arthur shoved aside the guard who came to stand at the entrance. The lord of Camelot wrapped his palm around the man’s neck demanding to be let into the elevator. In fear for his life, the man acquiesced and even pushed the button where the lab was located.

  Arthur chided himself for not taking the stairs when the elevator took ten full seconds to ascend. Finally, the doors opened and he leaped out, brandishing his sword and shouting Morgan’s name.

  He burst into the lab and his heart settled. There she was. Standing in the center of the room under a fluorescent spotlight. She was whole, fine.

  And then she doubled over.

  Her features contorted in pain as beams of light fired all around her. The first beam had hit her and brought her to her knees. More beams fired, largely missing her. But Arthur could see that it was only a matter of time before another hit its mark. He had to get to her.

  He stormed in and was immediately brought to his knees. He looked up to see a tall, slight man looming over him. In his hand, he held a stone.

  “My apologies for this,” said the man, the younger Accolon.

  There was an open locket made of lead around his neck. That’s where Arthur assumed the stone had come from. Lead was the only metal that muted the sickening powers of a sarsen stone.

  “I do truly abhor violence. That disappointed my father. But my mother prepared me.”

  A Templar Knight would’ve taken a blade to a Knight of Camelot. Honor demanded it. Sarsen stones were the weapons of the Banduri priestesses. If ever there would be an ounce of respect for this ill-bred mutt of a Templar and Banduri, it was decimated.

  “You know that the Banduri have struck a treaty with Camelot,” said Arthur. It was a struggle to speak under the weight of the thumb-sized stone. “I consider you holding my bride hostage a clear breach of that treaty.”

  Accolon nodded. “I do regret that. The lady is truly a prize. Not just her beauty, but her brains. She’s quite brilliant, you know.”

  “Of course I know,” growled Arthur.

  “If you did, you wouldn’t have neglected her.”

  Arthur tried to inch closer, but the stone was too much for him. “Fine. I’ll repent my sins. Let her go if your quarrel is with me.”

  “This has nothing to do with you.” The man reached down for a trash pail. He emptied the contents and then set the stone atop the upended bin, just beyond Arthur’s reach.

  “I suppose it has to do with your father then?” said Arthur as he eyed the stone and then the man with contempt.

  “If you know about my father, then you know he’s been searching for the Philosopher’s Stone all his life.”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  “I’d beg to differ, but I’ve seen enough movies. I know that while I give the villain speech you’re only stalling, looking for a way to get out of my dastardly plan. The problem is, I’m not the villain here.”

  With the stone balanced on the bin, Accolon stood and went to the side room. Arthur could see him pressing buttons and gathering documents. Inside the lit circle, the beams continued firing around Morgan.

  “Science has triumphed today,” said Accolon. “Thanks to the lady, I’ve found Element 119. I had the suspicion that the only thing that could hold all of those charges together was beyond the known substances. And I was right. I just didn’t think it would be magic.”

  Accolon turned to Morgan. He looked at her in wonder as she stood trapped inside the circle as a giant beam of light fired all around her. The beam missed her again and again, but Arthur knew that soon it would strike her body.

  “As soon as I extract the element from her body, I can make it synthetically. Synthetic magic. My name will go down in history alongside Einstein, Newton, Hawkins.”

  Arthur wasn’t listening. He was stuck on extract it from her body. Just then a beam of light pulsed inside the circle and hit Morgan square in the chest. Morgan screamed. The sound pierced Arthur’s ears and struck into his heart to lodge into his soul.

  “I am sorry, Morgan,” said Accolon. “But you would be thrilled at these readouts. I will give you credit on the paper, posthumously. As I told you, I’m not a sexist.”

  Arthur made another push to move for her. He barely got an inch. Their eyes connected as they both were doubled over on the floor. But Morgan’s eyes went past him, looking over his shoulder.

  All his strength and he was being felled by a stone.

  He’d been gutted by a stag. He’d been brought to his knees by this woman of science. Now, he couldn’t raise his sword over a stupid stone.

  There had to be some way. He just needed to think. But his brain fogged as the smell of acid burned his nose and reddened his eyes.

  “You must understand,” Accolon was saying. He was at the console tapping on keys. “I don’t hate witches like my mother. I don’t want to kill knights like my father. I don’t care about any ancient feud. It’s all about the science for me. Morgan will understand. She is a woman of science.”

  Morgan’s gaze connected with Arthur. Her blue
eyes flashed fire. There was pain there, but there was also … calculation.

  Arthur wanted to growl his ire. But then he realized; Accolon was right. His bride was a woman of science. He could see her beautiful mind at work.

  She wasn’t looking over his shoulder at someone. She was looking at something. Arthur turned his head. His foot was near a bucket of dirty mop water. He realized that was the source of the smell.

  She was brilliant.

  Arthur moved his sword out of the way. Once again, it was useless in this particular battle. He stretched out his foot and kicked over the bucket of dirty water.

  The acid-laced water spilled. The water caused the trash bin to sail on its lower current, sending the stone on a slow trek out of the door. But that wasn’t all. The corrosive water flowed upstream as well, directly into the path of the machine.

  From the other room, Arthur heard Accolon shout. But it was too late. The water spilled into the circle and the beam of lights flickered off.

  Morgan collapsed to the ground, but not before raising her palm. With the stone out of play, Arthur struggled to his feet. When he did, he was met with steel. The stone wasn’t the only weapon Accolon had up his sleeve. He also had a gun pointed in his pocket apparently. The barrel of the gun was pointed at Arthur.

  “Let me have her,” said Accolon. “This is my life’s work. She’s one witch. You have others.”

  “She is my life,” said Arthur, pressing his chest into the barrel of the gun.

  The two knights came to Arthur’s back. Accolon’s gaze flicked to them. The man had to know that even if he pulled that trigger, his life was forfeited.

  The scientist turned out to be a smart man. He hung his head. He made a motion to indicate he was handing the gun over. But before he relinquished the weapon, an alarm blared through the room and everything went wrong.

  The knights rushed forward at the alarm. Accolon’s body jerked at the sound, causing his finger to pull the trigger. The blast tore through the room causing Arthur’s body to jerk. The last thing Arthur saw was Morgan rushing toward him.

  And then everything went black.

  28

  Pain ripped through Morgan. The beam hit her, burning her flesh with each impact. Her flesh tore, but instead of blood leaking out, she felt power being leeched from her soul like a battery being drained.

  Her hands were luminescent. The witch fire burned bright, but she couldn’t focus and aim it at anything with the beam constantly assaulting her.

  She’d felt this pain before. She was reliving that nightmare. Only she was awake. When the Spear of Destiny had slashed through her skin and left her powerless. But she hadn’t been powerless all these months.

  She had her mind. She had a family who loved her. She had a man who was prepared to give his life for hers. But instead of giving up his life, Arthur listened to her.

  He caught her gaze when she looked at the vinegar-filled mop bucket. He managed to kick the bucket. The sarsen stone floated away and out the door. The accelerator cranked to a halt. The beam went dark and the world stopped spinning. The pain stopped.

  Morgan wanted to black out, but the loud bang after her freedom from the pain ripped her eyes open. The pain she’d felt as the beams blasted her paled in comparison to watching Arthur fall to the floor under the weight of another, smaller bit of metal.

  He crumbled to the ground clutching at his heart. His eyes never left her on his descent.

  Morgan vaguely heard Simon whimper. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

  The knights surrounded the scientist, despite the shaking gun in his hand. But they didn’t get a chance to put their hands on him.

  Simon went flying into the air, landing with a sickening thud against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

  Morgan lowered her hand. The magic she’d used to displace Simon still crackled in her fingertips. She knelt before Arthur.

  Blood dampened his tunic. His gaze was vacant. But he found her.

  “I’m going to say it,” he managed.

  No. Now was not the time for romantic overtures. That could wait. He would survive this. He had to survive this.

  “I told you so,” he said. His voice reedy and thin.

  “What?” said Morgan.

  “Science and magic … mix them together … dangerous.”

  Not funny. Not even in the slightest bit funny.

  Arthur coughed. A slight trickle of blood slipped on his lower lip. A lip she’d tasted just a few hours ago.

  “I swear to God,” she said, “if you die on me right now, I will never speak to you again.”

  His lip quirked up in a faint smile. The move must have been too much for him because his eyes closed. “I told you I’d give my life for you. I vowed it.”

  “If you’re trying to get out of this engagement, it won’t happen. You’re stuck with me. Now open your eyes.”

  But he didn’t. He let out a pained sigh and then he said in a voice that was slipping further and further away. “Be a good girl, Morgan.”

  A small smile lit his lips and then his mouth went slack. His pulse weakened, slowing. Blood seeped out of the wound at his heart.

  He was dying.

  She looked up at the other knights. There were tears in Lance’s eyes. The young squire who’d followed her here hugged his arms to himself, the blood drained from his face.

  There was nothing they could do. Science couldn’t heal a wound like this. There was no spell that could bring someone back from the dead.

  Morgan knelt over him feeling powerless. Then she realized, she wasn’t powerless. And Arthur wasn’t dead.

  Not yet. She could fix this. She knew how to fix this.

  The hart had shown her how. He’d shown her the bonds that held the fabric of the universe together. That essence, that element, was inside her. She could use it to knit Arthur back together.

  The hart had given its life to her. This had to be why. To save Arthur’s life.

  Morgan didn’t think twice. She pressed her lips to Arthur’s as she covered his heart with her hands. Then she poured her very soul into the man she loved.

  She watched as bursts of light swirled inside of him. Colliding, separating, repairing the old, forging something new.

  This was more than magic. It was also science. She had to know what went where and how to put the man she loved back together. It wasn’t her brain that guided her, it was her heart.

  The damage was extensive. It was taking all of Morgan’s energy to knit Arthur back together. She saw that her stores were depleting rapidly. She barely had any left for herself.

  And so she did the only logical thing. She poured more of herself into Arthur. All of herself.

  Light burned her eyelids. It was the light of truth. The answer to the one question she’d never considered. It all made sense now.

  The answer; love was magical.

  Morgan felt Arthur’s arms come around her. She felt his lips warm and then return her kiss. She felt him sigh as the breath of life filled his lungs.

  And then everything went black.

  29

  Arthur brushed Morgan’s hair from her temple. Then he tangled his fingers in the dark locks. She was so beautiful. He’d never taken a moment to really look at her until the past few days. In the past, she’d always been a blur of motion and mischief.

  She was still now. Had been for three days.

  When they’d returned home from Cardiff, he’d moved her from the infirmary into his room – their room as soon as both Gwin and Igraine had diagnosed her as being in a magically induced coma and not in any physical danger. There was no telling when she would wake up. It could be a couple of days. It could be a couple of months. However long it took her body to heal.

  Morgan shifted on the bed. She sighed, parting those beautiful lips. Her closed eyes twitched beneath the lids. But they didn’t open. She maintained the same serene, peaceful look that she’d had for the last two days. But still, she didn’
t wake.

  Arthur had sacrificed his life for her. It was his duty, his honor. In classic Morgan fashion, she didn’t take the gesture lying down. She’d turned around and done the same for him. A war raged in his heart over whether to be angry or touched.

  Most times he found himself in the middle of the war. He’d give his heart to have her open her eyes and glare at him. To deliver a biting, witty remark. To talk to him ad nauseam about atoms and constants.

  But all he could do was lay down next to her each night. He held her close during the day, telling her his secrets, sharing his dreams for their life together.

  He’d pull himself away from her in the late morning to handle his duties. He didn’t stay away long. She was his main priority.

  Arthur barely listened in the briefings. His mind was always back upstairs wondering if Morgan had moved, shifted, finally opened her eyes. He wanted to be there when she did, needed to. To let her know that she was safe. That that bastard, Accolon, was locked away in the dungeons.

  But he also had to do the work to keep her safe. He sat wishing the current meeting was done. He wanted to get back to his room. Back to her.

  He tried not to be impatient. He felt guilty that he was so full of energy while she lay still. This was the energy from her. He wished he could give it back to her.

  In the meantime, he had another plan. A present for her for when she did wake up. Arthur climbed the stairs to a tower in the east wing of the castle. Once he’d come to the landing, he heard banging of nails and sawing of wood.

  The laboratory he’d built for his bride was in a simple room. Cabinets and tables lined the walls. Atop the surfaces were an array of equipment from beakers to Bunsen burners. He’d even put up a whiteboard in front of chairs and desks so that she could teach those interested in the sciences.

  In one corner, Annora Godfrey and Osbert Clarke had their heads together over a circular device. It was a tabletop particle accelerator.

  Morgan wouldn’t be able to do the in-depth research she’d been after back at the labs in Cardiff, and that was just fine with Arthur. He would never let her near another of the large monstrosities.