King of Knights

by Bebe Lightsmith

  “What is with you? I actually really liked Brad.” Ivy snapped when I released her.

  “With a name like Brad, I’d advise you pick a different suitor.” I snapped. She glared up at me. “You feel that?” I then asked her. She was contemplative for a moment, as I felt her energies stretch beyond her physical location. After a moment her eyes grew wide, and she tucked herself between Ryker and me, against the wall.

  “You two want to tell me what’s going on?” Ryker demanded.

  “Dark energy.” I started,

  “Morgose,” Ivy said at the same time.

  “There’s no way she would be stupid enough to attack here,” Ryker argued, glancing around the room.

  “We have to tell my Grams,” Ivy whispered.

  “I think she already knows,” I replied watching as she quickly crossed the room to Agent Rogers. She whispered something in his ear. Though Agent Rogers was a master of keeping his facial expressions in check, I could see by the panic in his eyes that he was scared. Then they both left the room. Why would they leave the room? I let my senses go for a moment, trying to read exactly where the darkness was coming from.

  “Excalibur,” Ryker said and then rushed towards the exit of the room, dragging Ivy along with him. I followed, trying to smile as I passed people so no one would be aware of the situation. Entering the hallway, Ivy pulled Ryker into the girls’ bathroom. I followed. Ivy went to the row of mirrors and set her hand on one. After muttering an incantation, the courtyard emerged in front of us. It was dark, but a single stream of light from the moon shone down upon the epic sword. It did that every night as if the universe was proud of such a creation.

  “See, it’s fine,” Ivy said, gesturing to the mirror. Ryker took a deep breath, studying the image. Sure enough, the courtyard was vacant. We had moved to a different dorm building for that year, and brought the sword in the stone with us, to decorate that courtyard. Ryker and I wanted a two bedroom, and Ivy took the studio style across the hall.

  “I don’t like it.” Ryker shook his head.

  “She’s probably just messing with us. I’m sure my Grams is taking care of it.” Ivy said shaking her head. I tended to lean in agreement with Ivy, as Morgose had no real reason to go after the sword. Sure, it was a powerful weapon, but only a Pendragon could wield it.

  Ivy set her hand on the mirror to stop the magic. She was turned saying something to Ryker, but I saw it. I saw the fingers come out of the glass and wrap around Ivy’s wrist. Before I could react, the person had pulled her through the mirror, and Ryker had jumped in right behind her. I pushed to go, but by the time I got to the mirror, it was just glass again. I stared at my reflection for a long moment, wondering what the hell to do.

  Excalibur.

  The word kept revolving around in my head, so I decided to go with it and ran out of the bathroom. Cutting down a long hall of classrooms, I exited a side door of the castle and ran across the lawn towards the upper-classmen dorms. Grabbing my staff piece from my pocket, I allowed the magic to flow through it, making a full staff by the time I rounded the corner of the dorm building to enter the courtyard.

  Ryker stood with his back towards me, but he was at the edge of the courtyard, with his hands up, and palms out. Morgose, well at least I think that’s who it was, was poised with a knife pointed to Ivy’s throat, standing next to the sword. Morgose looked, actually, incredibly similar to Ivy, only her face was slightly narrower, her chin more pointed, her nose sharper.

  “Give me the sword,” Morgose shouted at Ryker, pressing the knife against Ivy’s skin.

  “I can’t. I told you, it’s stuck in the stone.” Ryker argued with her.

  Ivy’s eyes sparked with fury. Her mouth was set in a hard line as she flexed her jaw. I knew that look. Rounding the corner, I made my presence known, my mighty blue glowing staff in my hand as I stared directly at Morgose. She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Back up, cub of Emrys.” Morgose threatened. Where had I heard that phrase before?

  “You’ll have to kill her, Morgose.” I dared, stepping forward.

  The problem with Ryker and Ivy was that both of them were so stupid for each other that they couldn’t see logic. All Ryker saw was a threat to Ivy, so he backed away, as to not provoke the threat. All Ivy saw was that as long as Morgose’s attention was on her, she couldn’t hurt Ryker. But then there was me, the rational one of the group. Morgose wouldn’t cut Ivy, she was too important. The universe told me that. Morgose also didn’t really want the sword, as it was only useful in a Pendragon's hand. So, therefore, that led me to question what she was actually after.

  As I walked forward, Morgose made several threats, pressing the knife against Ivy’s skin. Ryker shouted at me to come back, but I ignored him. I walked forward until I stood on the other side of the sword. Blue lightning sizzled off of my staff as it waited for orders.

  “Morgose!” Morgana was suddenly in the courtyard. I heard the sound of her heels as she marched up the sidewalk and stood next to me. “You will unhand my granddaughter this instant.”

  “Make me.” Morgose dared her. With a twirl of my finger, the knife she once held against Ivy’s skin turned into an uncooked hot dog. By building up my druid powers, Morgana had shown me that my quick exchange magic would also be improved.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Morgose tossed the hot dog over her shoulder and then grabbed Ivy around the throat. I conjured a hand mirror into my hand. Ivy’s eyes flickered down to it, and she gave me a subtle nod.

  “What do you want, Morgose?” Morgana was making use of interrogation to keep the assailant's attention. Morgose can’t hurt anyone if she’s too busy arguing with Morgana.

  “What I deserve, sister.” Morgose hissed through her teeth. “Remember this all started with you, and with you, it will end.” Without warning, she threw Ivy forward. Ryker caught her. Morgana stepped forward, but Morgose now stood on the roof of the dorms.

  “And remember sister, your days are numbered.” She threatened, pointing her finger at Morgana. With a flash of light, she was gone.

  Morgana muttered a few choice words and then turned to face us. I stopped the flow of magic into my staff, the light dimming as it returned to the small piece of wood in my hand. Ryker and Ivy still had their arms around each other. Morgana took in a long deep breath.

  “Alright, back to the banquet.” She said marching past us.

  “Wait.” I couldn’t believe she could be so casual about this. Her evil freaking twin just attacked us, and now we were expected to just go back to the party? It felt like there should be some sort of resolve or something. Morgana turned, focusing her bright emerald eyes on me.

  “I mean, what was that? What happened?” I demanded.

  “Listen closely my young friend,” She started, “Not every situation deserves such analysis, as analysis can only be determined from the whole. Since you do not have the whole, it would be impossible to give you the analysis.” I knew she was referring to our studies, the ones that taught us how to be ultra-perceptive agents. As I didn’t know what to say to that, I just made a confused motion with my hands. Morgana rolled her eyes.

  “Let’s put it a different way. Team Camelot is going to be in danger for the rest of your mortal lives. If you devote such effort and intensity to every little situation, then you’d drive yourselves mad.” Morgana explained. I bit my tongue to keep from lashing out at her. This wasn’t little! Ivy’s life was in danger. Morgose pulled her through the freaking mirror! This time we knew where Ivy would be but what about next time? What if Ivy’s just washing her hands and then Morgose pulls her through to some dimension that Ryker and I have no hope of entering.

  “Your granddaughter’s life was just threatened,” I argued.

  “And so was mine,” Morgana replied in a calm, authoritative voice. “It was not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.” She started to march away and then turned, “You know, if you had read my book, you would understand what was happenin
g.” She then snapped and sauntered away.

  “I don’t want to go back,” Ivy said once Morgana had rounded the corner of the building and was out of sight. “Can we just hang out at your guys’ place for a while?” Ryker nodded, and they walked together towards the door.

  I stood, my eyes transfixed on Excalibur. Why did Morgose want it? And why did I know she was after it? It made no sense, but then again, a lot of our lives didn’t.

  I couldn’t explain why I did it. It was more instinct than rational thought. Reaching my hand over, I started to grab the handle of the sword. A sting snagged my attention as I realized that around the handle had formed tiny golden lightning bolts that were sparking into the flesh of my hand. Was Excalibur protecting itself from me? And if so, why?

  “Owen, are you coming?” Ryker called from the door. He hadn’t seen what just occurred. I nodded, jogging up the three steps and into the door.

  Ivy changed her clothes with us waiting outside the open door, that way if any danger happened we would be right there to assist. She was always like this after a situation, needy. She was scared, and we would do anything for her to help. When she was finished, we went into our little two-bedroom dorm. The bedrooms sat on either side of the small living room and kitchen. Ivy curled up on the couch with a blanket and Archimedes. Ryker and I changed our clothes and then joined her. They turned on some stupid television show, but I opened Morgana’s book. It was time I read this thing, as it seemed to be full of the answers I was searching for.

  Chapter Two:

  Ryker:

  One month later:

  I hated the smell of sugar cookies. Sure, at first their buttery, sugary scent is pleasant, mouthwatering even. But overexposure could turn even the most delectable treat into a gut-wrenching response. I tried not to gag as I entered my apartment. Cooling cookies covered every flat surface in the kitchen and living room.

  Stacked in towers were boxes and boxes of cookies made the day before. It was widely known on campus by now that if anyone wanted free sugar cookies, come to get a box from dorm 345. I glared at Owen, as I entered the kitchen. He was perched on a stool, leaned over a bowl of sugar with a pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass strapped to his face. He’d really lost it.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself. I should know by now not to question Owen’s antics, but sometimes they were just so bizare I had to know.

  “Counting grains of sugar, don’t mess me up.” He said in a robotic tone as he was trying to keep count. As he counted he set each grain of sugar carefully onto a scale.

  It started two weeks ago when Owen had finally finished the book. Since he was actively reading it, Morgana allowed him to attend classes. Once he started reading, he couldn’t put it down. He read into all hours of the night and had stacks of notebooks full of meticulously made notes in his room. He told me he couldn’t tell me what was in it but that it had led him to this one sentence that mentioned Merlin’s Codex. According to Morgana, Merlin could do any type of magic with just a swish of his finger. Owen figured that the codex was the key to such power.

  Once he was finished with the book, Morgana invited him to her office to talk about it. When he had asked her about the codex, he said Morgana had smiled a knowing grin and then handed him a piece of parchment. She explained that it is the very instructions that Merlin had given her. He implored her to give it to the descendant with both of his magic’s. She had locked away the parchment in her dimension house for thousands of years, just waiting for Owen.

  Owen had rushed back to our dorm to open it. He thought it was going to be some great spell, or maybe a diagram of an enchantment circle, or maybe even some sort of sacrificial magic to summon the codex to him. Morgana explained that Merlin had to ensure that the book never falls into the wrong hands, and therefore, only an Emrys with both magic’s could conjure the codex. When he opened the parchment, just a list was scribbled in swirling faded letters, written so long ago. Owen and I were perplexed, as it looked like a shopping list consisting of eggs, butter, flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt. I had asked him how a millennia old wizard in Wales knew about baking soda and sugar, in which Owen promptly replied, “He was an all-powerful wizard who could literally bend time and space, I think he could have the foresight to see how cooking would change.” I had to admit, he had a point.

  The problem was then that Owen and I had literally no idea what the recipe would make. Owen started to look at the magical properties of each ingredient, to try to get a sense of the natural reactions. That was when Ivy had flitted in. I remember it vividly because she was eating a big round red sucker that day. After hearing the story and reviewing the parchment, she shrugged and said it looked like a sugar cookie recipe to her. Owen declared her brilliant, kissed her head, and then set to baking. He’d been doing it in his free time ever since.

  I have to admit, I had no idea why, when Owen pulled the first tray of sugar cookies out of the oven and then said the incantation from the list, they did not turn into the book. In fact, I had little understanding of how magic actually works. That also changed as during the same day that she gave Owen the recipe, Morgana also tracked me down during my afternoon training session with the other knights. Since I had found Excalibur, Major Johnson had made me train with swords. A few of the other knights volunteered to train with me, Natalie being one of them.

  Morgana waited until that particular match was done and then called me over. She asked me if I would like to learn the art of sword magic. At first, I laughed, thinking she was kidding, but when she didn’t smile, I knew she was completely serious. I quickly explained that knights had no outward magic. She rolled her eyes, reminding me that like Arthur, I did. It was still an odd feeling for me. Imagine living your whole life thinking you were one way, only to discover you were completely the other. That was when it started. At first, it started as a feeling, like intuition, I knew I had to accept Morgana's offer.

  During our first training session, Morgana handed me a magically conductive sword, much like the one that Owen had. She explained to me that magical items like Excalibur are sentient beings that are imbued with consciousness through universal magic. Creating sentience in an inanimate object is no easy feat, so there were only a few in the world and Merlin made most of them. That sentience, therefore, gives the items powers of their own and they can choose to use them. It was up to the master to coax the object into giving their full allegiance to them. Excalibur had already pledged itself to the Pendragon line, but part of the deal is to also make sure that the master can handle the power of the item. That was where the magic came in. My magic would temper and communicate with the item, telling it exactly what I wanted and the reasoning behind it. Once an object has sworn fealty to its master, they cannot refuse a command.

  Setting my things down, I sat on the chair by the window, just to catch a glimpse of it. The sword was immaculate, everything I would have wished for in a weapon or dreamed of when I heard the tales of Excalibur. I just wished I could use it. Every day, I gave the handle a tug, and every day it didn’t budge. The other knights had a great time taunting me, taking turns pulling on the handle, like they would be the ones to draw the sword from the stone.

  The intuition was growing stronger. I felt such a longing for the sword; it ached me. I felt how lonely it was and when it grew irritated that someone else was touching it. Sometimes it would call to me, and if I could, I would go to it. I knew it was strange, but the more I grew comfortable with my weaponry magic, the more I felt connected to the sword. Grabbing a cookie, I kept my eye on the sword as I took a bite.

  “Oh, these are delicious, way better than when you started,” I told Owen.

  “Apparently, not good enough for Merlin,” Owen muttered.

  I knew the feeling. Every time I grabbed the handle of the sword and could not free it from the stone, I felt defeat. Turning away from the window, I watched as Owen carefully added the counted sugar to a larger mixing bowl. He then star
ted to count out individual grains of salt.

  “Can I ask what you’re doing now?” I asked before he reached too high a number. Owen rolled his eyes and took off his magnifying glass.

  “I have to make sure that the ratio is perfect. I think that this is the point of Merlin’s test, to show him complete perfection with the recipe. I’ve calculated how many grains of every dry part would equate to make the perfect cookie.” Sometimes I thought Owen should get a girlfriend, or at least a hobby.

  “That’s crazy,” I replied in a dry tone.

  “Whatever, I’m not the one pining after a sword,” Owen grumbled, shoving the glass back over his eye.

  “I’m not pining, I’m . . .” I trailed off as something out the window caught my eye. Ivy had just walked into the courtyard. I thought I’d be used to how she looked by now, and how looking at her affected me, but I wasn’t. It hit me like a punch in the gut every time. Her white-blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her big pretty eyes were cast down looking at a book she had against her arm. Absently, she bit her plump red bottom lip.

  “Speaking of pining,” Owen muttered. “Tell me, how much satisfaction do you get when both of your objects of affection are positioned at a glance from the window?” I threw an empty soda can at him, and he put his hand up, causing it to ricochet to the right. He laughed as he did it.

  Then another person entered the courtyard. Malcolm Gadsden, the Aussie who took on the dragon. Over the past month, I had evaluated him closely. He proved to be an honorable fellow, who always helped when he could, was respectful to everyone, and fought like a champion. He had also gotten close to Ivy. Every once in a while I would catch them in the courtyard, talking and laughing to each other.

  I hated him.

  “You are such a creep,” Owen muttered, keeping his concentration on his cookies.