“Sounds awful,” says Merlin. He lifts his horse’s reins. “Yet my sister and I must still depart.”
“Wait, my brother,” says Nimue. “Whoever this stranger is, perhaps she can be helpful.”
“Spot on, Nimue. I traveled through time so I could stop Colossus from getting free. See, in my reality, there’s been a big demonpocalypse. Nothing’s left, unless you count the evil-doers. So I’m here to keep all the archdemons locked up.”
“Most of them are already free,” says Nimue. “Did you not hear the explosion before?”
“Yes,” I reply. “But I thought that was thunder.”
Nimue shakes her head. “That was the eight archdemons escaping their prison below Pendragon castle. Now we’re off to see the Pendragon himself, so we can seek his advice.”
“Isn’t the Pendragon dead?” I ask.
“Not exactly,” says Nimue. “Would you like to meet him?”
I tap the center of my chest. “Me?”
Three things about this. First, it’s pretty fucking awesome to meet the Merlin and Nimue, even if the whole world and all of history is at stake. Second, these two pack a ton of power, so they could totally be useful later. And third, I’d love to meet the Pendragon. Mostly because he has a badass name.
Nimue nods. “You.”
At the same time, Merlin glares at Nimue in a way that says, I hate this idea.
“Count me in,” I say.
“Can you change forms and fly?” Nimue gestures toward my tail. Which takes the opportunity to wave again because, of course it does.
“Oh, I’m not a dragon shifter, if that’s what you mean.”
Nimue launches into a little bippity-boppity-boo action. After some incantations and blue mist, I have msyelf a bluish horse of my own. It reminds me of Nightshade, my own mare from Lincoln.
Don’t think it. Don’t think it. Don’t think it.
I think it.
Nightshade is now gone, same as everyone else, including Lincoln. Or maybe my guy is just being tortured somewhere instead of dead. Talk about awful.
My horse springs into action to trot behind Merlin and Nimue. Now that I’m in motion, my morose mood lightens a little. Thoughts of downing archdemons now come to the forefront of my mind.
Revenge, that’s the ticket.
Since Merlin isn’t Mister Chatty, I address Nimue. “What do you know about the Colossus’ dungeon?”
“The archdemon king lies confined beneath Camelot. He is held inside a prison-crypt that’s guarded by seven seals.”
An odd sound comes from Merlin’s mouth. I’m pretty sure he’s grinding his teeth. “And those seals could easily be broken now that the other archdemons are free,” he grumbles.
“If you can’t point out positive things, it’s better to be silent,” counters Nimue.
Next the siblings prove they are truly related by launching into a long back-and-forth about who is really the downer of the family. There aren’t any juicy magical details, though. Only bickering. After a few minutes, I tune them out. Our goal is clear anyway. After visiting the Pendragon, we’re off for Colossus and Camelot. That’s all I care about.
As we ride on, I catch a tiny cloud in my peripheral vision. It’s small, white, and moving faster than anything else in the sky. However, when I turn to look, I don’t see anything.
“Fluff?” I whisper. “Is that you?”
Nothing happens, unless you count the ongoing spat between Nimue and Merlin.
Oh, well. It would have been nice to have a familiar face along, even if it is a renegade snow imp.
26
Lincoln
Ximena, Null and Rage march along the road. I follow along through the underbrush, careful to keep myself hidden. Eventually, the archdemons find an obliging town with a stable full of horses. Ximena keeps to her word—no spells get cast—but that doesn’t stop the archdemons from getting horses the old fashioned way. Stealing them. Soon, Ximena and company are trotting along on the main road to Camelot.
Fortunately for me, there are faster ways to King Arthur’s castle. Long story short, if I cut across the open lands, I can bypass the archdemons, even if they ride on horseback. My goal isn’t to beat them to Camelot, though. Instead, I plan to cook them a meal of roasted rabbit.
Yes, that is correct.
Me.
Three archdemons.
Rabbit dinner.
This is happening.
Once Ximena and company are out of sight, I hike across a countryside of rolling hills and towering forests. After a half-day’s march, I find myself back at the main road once more. Soon I discover a clean and dry spot that’s not too close to the road. There I set up camp.
Next comes what I call the amazing all-purpose baculum display. I do these demonstrations for warriors in training, but it’s rare I get to execute them in the wild.
This is how it works. When I ignite the baculum, I can command angelfire into whatever shape I wish. Here I begin by conjuring myself an angefire axe to chop up some firewood. Next comes an angelfire knife to fashion a roasting spit. After that I summon a hunting bow. Within a few hours, I have a crackling fire and roasting rabbit.
My trap is set.
All that remains is my prey.
By the time the archdemons appear, the sun has fallen close to the horizon line. First, I see Ximena. She wears a silk overcoat that laces up-front, hiding the battle leathers she dons underneath. The knights behind her appear like a standard guard for a lady of means.
As they close in, I rise and wave. “Ho, there!”
Ximena raises her hand. All the horses stop. “Who are you?” she calls.
“Someone who knows that dragons hate the cold and love meals of roasted rabbit,” I reply. “My name’s Lincoln.”
Rage leans forward in the saddle. “Should we kill him?”
Ximena rolls her eyes. “I shall not dignify that with an answer.”
Null punches Rage’s upper arm. “Told you she would say no. You should not have wasted the energy in asking.”
Ximena slips off the saddle and takes her horse by the reins. She saunters over in my direction.
Perfect.
Ximena pauses just outside the circle of firelight. “How did you know I’m a dragon?”
“The short answer is this,” I reply. “I’m part angel and can see your tail while you’re in human form. The longer response is that I know you’re Ximena, the Archdemon of Lust and Wrath.”
Ximena steps closer. “My comrades wish to kill you. Why shouldn’t I give them what they want?”
“Other than the fact that you’d have a sky-full of archangels after you?”
Ximena’s eyes widen a fraction. “Yes, that.”
“Why, it’s obvious.” I grin. “Never fight a dragon until you see the color of their scales.” It’s an old Furor saying which means, know your opponent before going into battle. It’s a nice way of pointing out, you’ve no idea what I’m capable of.
Ximena eyes me from head to toe. “Fair enough.” She turns to the knights. “Tie up the horses. I have business with this stranger.” She seats herself on a large rock beside the fire. “You wear odd garb.”
“I’m from the future.” I hold up my hand, showing off the ring that encircles my finger.
“The Band of Epochs.” Ximena clicks her tongue. “Not sure why Lucifer played around with such trinkets. Time travel causes nothing but trouble; I never dabble in the stuff.” She tilts her head. “What do you want?”
“You’re headed for Camelot. Once there, you shouldn’t storm the gates. King Arthur must accept you peacefully.”
Ximena shrugs. “We archdemons have changed, you know. We’re no longer evil. King Arthur will welcome us with open arms.”
“And that’s your story,” I state. “With me along, you can make that tale believable. Wish to enter Camelot? Have me make the introductions. I’m part angel, same as King Arthur.”
“And why would a part-angel wish to help
archdemons?”
“Two reasons. First, I came to this era in order to seek my fortune. King Arthur has plenty to spare.”
Ximena nods. Treasure is always a great motivator for dragons. “And second?” she asks.
“You’ve no choice. You need my help. Present company excepted, these archdemons are a rather pitiful lot.”
Ximena sighs. “True, but that’s why we need Colossus. The other Archdemons aren’t built to think or fight for themselves. Colossus must empower and guide them.”
Speaking of Null and Rage, they stand twenty paces away, arguing about how to tie up the horses. I shake my head. “That’s a sad sight, right there.”
“They’ll be better once our king is free.”
“Yet you’re still clever, even without Colossus.”
Ximena’s nostrils flare. “I’m a dragon.”
“True.” I offer her my hand. “Do we have a deal?”
“You’re part angel. I probably can’t trust you.”
“You’re all demon. I definitely can’t trust you. Does it really matter so long as I get you inside Camelot?”
Ximena chuckles. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
“Excellent.” We shake hands.
“I’ll talk to the others.”
Rising, Ximena paces over to where Null and Rage are arguing about horses. I can’t hear all of their conversation, but my name seems to come up quite a bit. While they chat things through, I prod the fire’s embers once more. As fresh waves of sparks rise up, the points of light seem to drift into the shape of different faces.
Myla.
Maxon.
My parents.
My people.
Another pang of longing twists up my rib cage. I’ve spent years with my Angelbound love at my side. No matter what the problem, we faced it together … and laughed.
Now, I don’t even know if she’s alive or safe. Saving the world just got a whole lot harder.
27
Myla
Ride, ride ,ride.
Bleugh, bleugh, bleugh.
Merlin, Nimue and I spend hours trotting along forest paths in search of this Pendragon fellow. Supposedly, the Pendragon will know how to fix any Colossus-related jailbreaks. All along the road, the siblings quarrel about whose turn it is to cast cleaning spells on the horses’ gear. Or record new incantations into their grimoire. Or add fresh power gems to their secret casket of mage goodies.
I now appreciate being an only child.
Eventually, the pair halt at a deserted pond. A line of pine trees surround the water’s edge. Green needles cascade from the branches to make odd patterns on the water. The setting sun casts a yellow glow over the scene.
Huh.
What do Nimue and Merlin want with a pond? I’d ask, but every time I try to make conversation, it somehow turns into another sibling battle over chores. So I hang back and watch.
The pair approach the water’s edge. Holding hands, they whisper incantations over the pond. I’ve seen mages link fingers before. It helps focus and enhance their spell.
Blue mist surrounds Nimue’s right arm. Magic. The colored haze elongates. When it solidifies, the magical mist takes the form of a silver staff. The instrument stands tall as Nimue and is topped by a metal square lined with blue jewels.
As Nimue and Merlin continue whispering spells, the azure stones of the staff light up. Blue beams reach out onto the pond, making the waters bright as a summer sky. Next the mist tumbles from the staff to roll over the entire pond. More magic. The haze glitters for a moment before seeping into the water itself.
Thanks to the magic, the pond’s surface turns as transparent as a window. And through that clear pane, I see a golden castle. Under the water. Just hanging out.
My mouth falls open with shock. A castle hidden in a lake? Sweet.
Nimue and Merlin raise their joined hands. The gleaming castle rises up to settle on the surface of the pool. The building is a small-ish affair made from pure gold. Bits of seaweed and lichen cling to its gleaming surface. A few fish flop about on the long walkway that stretches from the front gate to the shoreline.
Nimue and Merlin lower their arms. The castle’s front gate swings open. Moving in unison, the pair step across the water and into the castle itself.
Guess that’s all the invitation I’m getting.
I hustle across the walkway and through the still-open front gate. Inside the castle, there’s a small reception room. Two knights in golden armor lean against the wall, totally asleep.
Yes! It takes everything I have not to cheer. This is an enchanted castle situation, just like in fairy tales. A word pops into my brain.
Avalon.
Isn’t that where King Arthur ends up? He gets enchanted along with his court and chucked to the bottom of a lake or something until he’s needed again. Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s the story. Maybe this gold building is something similar.
I find Merlin and Nimue in the next room, which is a sizable hall. The walls are lined with shelf after shelf of leather-bound books. A huge round table fills the center of the space. A man sits there, his torso slumped over the tabletop. His shoulders rise and fall in a slow rhythm. That settles it. More enchanted sleep action. This is getting good.
Nimue and Merlin cross the room to kneel before the resting figure. The pair holds hands once more. “Arise, Pendragon,” they say in unison.
The stones in Nimue’s staff flare blue again. Tendrils of mist roll out from the gleaming rocks. Cords of magic wind about the resting man. For a moment, the sleeper is surrounded in an azure cloud. Then the mist enters the man’s body. Light flares beneath his skin.
The spell is cast.
Yawning, the man sits up and opens his eyes. He’s an older fellow with sage-dark skin, a thin face, and a wiry body. Despite being asleep for who knows how long, his chin and head are clean-shaven. Like Nimue and Merlin, he wears long silk robes. After blinking a few times, he stares at the siblings.
“Ah, Nimue and Merlin,” he intones. “My favorite students.”
The brother and sister bow their heads. “Pendragon. We are honored to be children of your academy.”
I scan the walls of books with a new appreciation. This place must be a school. And considering how it turns out mages, I’m betting it’s an academy of magic.
The edges of the Pendragon’s mouth curl up into a sad smile. “It is good to see you, son and daughter of my heart. Yet, I doubt this is a happy visit. You’re here regarding our school’s most famous son, Arthur.”
Nimue is first to speak. “It is indeed the reason we are here. Trouble looms with King Arthur.”
Merlin balls his hands into fists. “Why did you choose him to lift Excalibur?”
“We’ve been through this many times,” states the Pendragon. “I needed to lure out Colossus in order to capture him. That’s why I set up the sword in the stone. As an extra enticement, I magically tied all my students to forever serve whoever removed Excalibur.”
As the Pendragon speaks the words forever serve, Nimue and Merlin visibly shiver.
“It had to be done,” continues the Pendragon. “By possessing the owner of Excalibur, Colossus could lead the human world without appearing to break any Heavenly rules. The archdemon king then possessed Arthur, giving that human enough strength to pull out the sword. So it was Colossus who chose King Arthur, not me.”
Nimue and Merlin nod while staring at their feet. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of the Pendragon’s plan.
“You have made a great sacrifice,” adds the Pendragon. “It has changed history forever. No matter what a bard may sing, it was the three of us who ultimately trapped the archdemons in their prison-crypts with the Opus Magica.”
Whoa. Now that’s some heavy stuff.
All this time, I’ve been hanging back by the entrance archway. Now I step forward and raise my hand. “Hello there, Mister Pendragon. Myla Lewis here.”
The Pendragon eyes me from head to toe. “You’re
the Great Scala from the future, come here to try and prevent Colossus from escaping.”
Nimue and Merlin round on me. “You’re the Great Scala? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Technically, I’m not the Great Scala in this particular era. Someone else has the gig and my igni won’t talk to me. Well, they do make pirate noises, but I don’t consider that speaking. Anyway.” I step closer to the Pendragon. “You’re right; I’m here to stop Colossus. And to do that, I need to be one hundred percent sure I understand things. You—” I point to the Pendragon “—aren’t really King Arthur’s father. You’re his spiritual dad through this academy.”
“Yes,” says the Pendragon.
“And King Arthur didn’t lock up Colossus and the other archdemons in some prison-crypts. It was you, Nimue and Merlin using a book called the Opus Magica.”
The Pendragon nods. “Also true.”
Nimue turns to me. “You’re from the future. How do your people think Colossus and his minions were locked up?”
“Well.” I wince, knowing this won’t be a popular revelation. “Here’s the honest truth. In my era, everyone thinks King Arthur invented the roundtable and imprisoned all the archdemons. We also think the Pendragon is Arthur’s biological father.”
“Lies!” cries Merlin. “The three of us imprisoned Colossus. The Pendragon created the round table. All the students here acted as equals. And it was the followers of Pendragon Academy who created the first thrax.”
Nimue’s mouth thins to an angry line. “And what about us?” No question which us she’s talking about. Herself and her brother.
There’s no point sugar-coating this. “We think you two ran off and left King Arthur hanging. And we also might think you’re an old guy—” I gesture to Merlin for this part “—and you’re an enchantress who lives in a lake.” I point to Nimue.
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