Sword in the Stars

by Cori McCarthy

  It was the only way.

  And there was only one task left.

  “I need to return to my family at the moment they need me the most,” Merlin chanted, making his request to the universe part of the song the universe itself was always singing.

  Dawn rose and fell like heroes did, a hundred thousand times. Camelot came and went, the valiant strike of a match against an endless dark. Entire civilizations blinked into being and blinked out. Merlin waved his hand, humming through all of human history like it was merely the overture.

  He stopped when he was alone again.

  Earth had been abandoned, everyone gone in the wake of their own self-made catastrophes. The lake was still there, spoiled and polluted. The forest had been mostly leveled, and the few trees left were marked for demolition, Mercer Ms carved in their bark.

  Merlin turned away from all of it and looked up to the stars, seeking the path he needed. He tried not to break under the gravity of what he’d just learned. He was Merlin, the great mage of Earth.

  But he was also Kairos, and this was finally his moment.

  Crossing the galaxy after six months on medieval Earth was a new wonder. The endless black and nothing of space—followed by bursts of light and life at every starbus stop—created a scale of how far humanity had come. And how far it still needed to go.

  Ari, Val, and Gwen smooshed against the window of the public commuter ship. Their nerves were alive. Swift heartbeats and sharp glances. Gwen had insisted that the sword was a gift from Kairos, something left in the past to make a difference in the future. Val felt staunchly more negative: that this was an extremely well-baited trap from Mercer.

  Ari saw both sides, to be honest, but as her cheek started to hurt less, she could not afford to stay on Amal, waiting for her death to find her and Nin to make her into a new cycle.

  That, and she really wanted to get her hands on that sword.

  The bus pilot’s bored voice smeared with static through the speakers. “Kemelotch stoppsh.” The children on board squealed happily as the starbus docked so hard Val lost his footing. Gwen grabbed one shoulder and Ari the other, keeping him from tumbling into the surrounding passengers.

  They stayed toward the back while the bus unloaded, adjusting their Val-designed costumes. He wore a hat with a jaunty purple feather, which, as Ari had pointed out, “Only draws attention instead of dispelling it.”

  “Yes, attention to the feather.” He’d had a little too much fun masking Ari in a dress and Gwen in a jumpsuit as if swapping their gender expressions might alone fool Mercer. To be honest, Ari barely recognized Gwen’s backside in that getup, which ended up being the one thing to jostle her one-track mind from stopping Mercer before she died. Her hands were coming alive with very specific needs.

  Val gave Ari a smack that stung only because it reminded her of Merlin. “Stop it. You might not look exactly like yourselves, but as a couple you’re unmistakable.”

  Gwen gave Ari a saucy look but moved to the other side of Val. “We’ve got exactly one hour before Amal arrives and all hell breaks loose. We have to be in position before then.”

  “Assuming they let us in,” Ari said.

  “Let me do my part, will you?” Val said with a dash of salt. He’d been a short-tempered mess since they’d left Merlin behind in Avalon, and Ari couldn’t blame him. She only hoped she could do something to change Merlin’s fate before she was gone.

  They were the last to get off the starbus, entering streams of people unlike anything Ari could have imagined. Old Earth’s moon was nothing like the bare silver face she’d seen from Camelot, or the hyper-neon colonies she’d once gleefully snuck into with Kay. Crowds siphoned through glass-covered walkways toward the enormous, new dome so large it made the moon appear top-heavy. One word flashed across its peak like a gleaming crown:

  Camelot™

  Gwen exhaled an expletive so sincere Ari stifled a laugh.

  “Okay, let’s be tourists,” Ari said.

  Up ahead, Mercer associates checked people over, sending them to the right toward the entrance to the park, or to the left for further security screenings. Ari could feel the red alarms of facial recognition software and enough heat guns to sublimate their cells on the spot. When it was nearly their turn, Ari panicked. She reached for Gwen, kissing her so heatedly that the associate deadpanned, “Honeymooners to the right. Congratulations.”

  Val gripped the tickets that cost way, way too much. At the turnstile, he flirted with the associate who blushed purple and let him through. Ari went next, the guard still distracted, but her relief was cut short when the associate took hold of Gwen’s bag.

  “You didn’t go through bag check.” They ripped the bag off her arm and fished through it, pulling out the chalice… and Gwen’s Lionelian crown. The guard held it up and whistled.

  “It’s from our wedding,” Ari said in a rush, kissing Gwen’s neck. “We got married on Troy yesterday. The jeweler said this one is just like the crowns they used to sell on Lionel.”

  Gwen picked up the story seamlessly. “We’re going to take pictures with the Sword in the Stars. Isn’t that romantic?”

  The associate smiled—actually smiled—as if they were a human underneath that stiff uniform. They placed the crown on Gwen’s head and waved them through.

  Walking hand in hand, Gwen whispered, “Baby girl, did you just lie?”

  “Like a pro!”

  “Didn’t I advise you two not to be stuck on each other?” Val asked.

  “Worked, didn’t it?” Ari said.

  Val chortled. “For now. And you might want to bag that crown, Gwen. Why did you even bring it?”

  “For my reasons,” Gwen snapped, sliding the crown back into her bag.

  None of them were prepared for CamelotTM. The park was worse than the ads and Ari’s imagination combined. The streets were cobbled and outfitted with handmade wooden signs, a medieval paradise like Lionel in appearance, but reeking of the capitalistic starship mall Heritage, which was now orbiting Old Earth in great mangled hunks.

  The crowds were thick and loud, riddled with feasting, yelling adults, and screaming, overstimulated children. A ride before them was made to look like a jousting ring, while a pavilion to the side boasted a sign: PRINCESS MAKEOVERS. Everything was gendered to the hilt, as if the past’s hardcore misogyny was just a nostalgic throwback that had been transformed into wholesome family fun. Not to mention that the park was teeming with Mercer associates. No wonder the Ketchan elders had referred to it as a fortress.

  “This place makes me sick.”

  Gwen tugged Ari’s hand, somehow convincing Ari’s feet to move. “We have to go straight through. The sword is at the middle of the park, but we should split up. Val, get in position on the far side. Signal us if something is off. Amal will be here in,” she checked her watch, “thirty minutes.”

  “Shit, getting in took too long.”

  “Move.”

  Val sped off in the opposite direction with a small, affectionate eye roll. Constantly rubbing shoulders in the crowd, Ari and Gwen pushed forward until they were sweating profusely. Ari’s nerves were getting the best of her.

  “This will be over soon,” Gwen whispered soothingly. “Pull the sword fast. From there we should have the security of the crowd’s excitement until Amal shows up. And I have no doubt that the Administrator will seize a chance to face us… and then we use the chalice.”

  “What if it doesn’t work like that?” Ari asked quietly.

  “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “It’s not Excalibur, Gwen. I don’t have King Arthur’s soul anymore. I might not be able to lift this sword, and we need to have a game plan for when that happens.”

  Gwen pushed her toward a small fortune-teller’s booth. The attendant took one look at Gwen and dropped to her knee. “Queen Gweneviere!”

  Gwen pulled the woman to her feet and kissed her on both cheeks. The woman burst into sudden tears, and Gwen moved fast. “I n
eed you to do something for me. Take my crown to…”

  Ari didn’t hear the rest as Gwen whispered in the woman’s ear. She nodded slowly. “Yes, my queen. Of course.”

  “You will be free soon,” Gwen said, her commanding presence slipping over her like a perfectly tailored dress. “I promise.”

  The woman disappeared, and Ari eyed Gwen. “What are you up to?”

  “Giving my people some hope,” she said. “Do you really think the sword won’t free itself for you?”

  “I don’t know. I just think we should have an alternate plan.” Ari looked at Gwen, truly looked at her. No wonder Mercer hadn’t recognized her at the gates; she’d been hollowed by pregnancy and the Middle Ages, but she was still the Queen of Lionel. She was still so magnificent that her former subjects took one glance at her and dropped to a knee.

  “Ari, we have twenty-four minutes until the last Ketchan starship covers this dome like a beacon of unstoppable change. This is what we wanted. A last stand with witnesses.”

  “It’s not all I want.” Ari grabbed Gwen by the hips, deadlifted her onto the fortune-teller’s high table, and kissed her. Gwen’s next words disappeared into the press of their bodies. Ari’s mouth couldn’t get enough, her hands pulling Gwen’s hair back as she tasted the skin of her neck, the edges of her breasts. It was sweet but also desperate.

  Gwen gripped Ari with her arms and with her legs. And she didn’t let go. Neither of them did. “We’re going to make it through this,” she said in Ari’s ear.

  “Okay,” Ari’s voice was rough. “But do I have to wear this fucking outfit?”

  Gwen laughed warmly, cupping Ari’s cheek.

  Val’s voice floated up from Gwen’s watch. “Ari? Gwen? What in the hell is happening? You should be at the sword by now.”

  Gwen stared at Ari’s costume, and she started to peel off the jumpsuit. “Slight change of plans. We’re going disguised as ourselves.”

  “That makes zero sense!” Val hollered.

  Ari slipped out of the dress, glad she’d convinced Val to let her wear her own clothes underneath. Gwen pulled the dress on. It was too long at the hem and far too tight in the bodice, but that only created a stunning amount of cleavage. When Ari stood again, Gwen’s hands slid up her forearms to her shoulders and chest in a way that left Ari prickling with the best nerves. “Ready?”

  “With you? Always.”

  They wove their fingers together and stepped out of the tent—to a waiting crowd.

  Apparently Gwen’s fortune-telling subject wasn’t great at keeping secrets because a host of Lionelians were waiting, most of them wearing half medieval gear, half Mercer work uniforms.

  And they weren’t alone.

  Ari’s parents were there. They held hands and nodded proudly. Ari passed them as they started a procession toward the sword, reaching out to clasp hands with Captain Mom. Thank the celestial gods they’d made it this far. She tried to tell them with her eyes that it would be okay, they had a plan.

  Mom winked.

  The fortune-teller returned to Gwen’s side and handed her something small that Gwen swiftly slipped into her pocket. Ari went to ask, but Gwen just shook her head. The group formed a protective circle around Ari and Gwen, escorting them to the sword.

  Val radioed in, rushed and whispering. “Mercer’s definitely onto something! They’re gathering in ranks!”

  Together, and growing in number with each shouted hail, the Lionelian resistance made their way to the center of the park where a host of armed associates barred the path. “Let them through! Let them try the Sword in the Stars!” people shouted until the crowd became a small riot.

  Ari kept her hand in Gwen’s as the associates scrambled, motioning to each other, radioing for help. Just behind them, beyond the circle, Ari saw the glittering hilt of the sword that was either a gift from their child or the most tempting trap ever laid.

  And then Terra, the new Mercer Administrator, appeared, parting the crowd in her matronly gown. Ari could feel the chalice tucked in her pocket. What would happen if she could get Terra to drink from it?

  What question would Terra have to ask?

  Terra smiled. “Ara Azar and the former Queen of Lionel, welcome. What an interesting choice to come to us and be condemned to death, but then, public executions do match our medieval theme, don’t they?”

  Boos and angry shouts rippled through the crowd.

  “We will try our hand at the sword,” Ari said, turning her eyes on Gwen. “Both of us. If we fail, you can kill us.”

  The crowd quieted with a snap.

  Terra appeared annoyed. She flipped a hand at them. “Go on then. Try your luck.”

  Ari didn’t like her willingness. It felt almost like she knew something. The girls entered the ring of dozens of heat gun–toting associates. They approached the flat, worn piece of the moon that bore the blade, and for a few moments, the charade fell away.

  Ari felt herself smile as she looked over the golden hilt and silverish handle. It reminded her of the blue cast to her armor in Camelot. Her eyes took in each letter of Kairos. She looked at Gwen and found her smiling too, brown eyes bright. “You first.”

  Gwen slid her fingers over the handle. She gripped it tightly, and Ari swore it moved at her touch. But when Gwen pulled, the blade stayed, firm and tight in the soft, ashy lunar soil. Gwen stepped back, exhaling with slight disappointment. “Told you,” she whispered. “Kai made this for you.”

  Ari didn’t stand on ceremony. She took the handle and went to raise the sword as if it were Excalibur—and it didn’t budge.

  The crowd began to roil with disappointment. Ari thought she heard Val cry out. She closed her eyes and cursed, tugging once more with both hands, to no avail. This time when she looked over, Gwen’s eyes were dark with fear.

  Terra came forward with such a simpering smile that Ari felt a lash of hatred. This woman might be playing her role differently than the first Administrator, but in the end, they were the same monster. “What a pity. But I do like the neatness of our bargain. Would you like to be hanged, or perhaps the firing squad? Not exactly period appropriate, but who cares.”

  All at once, the dozens of Mercer associates surrounding them aimed their weapons. Ari stepped back and into Gwen. Her leg bumped the hilt of the sword, and she could have sworn it moved.

  “Wait. A moment to say good-bye,” Ari said with as much confidence as she could muster.

  Terra waved permission like a bored emperor.

  Ari turned to Gwen, but Gwen beat her to it. “Don’t you dare say good-bye to me.”

  “Gwen, what if Kai made the sword for us? For both of us.”

  Gwen squinted, and then her eyes grew large. They reached for the sword together, both of their hands fitting around it perfectly.

  They drew it high above their heads in one seamless motion. The crowd erupted in screams of delight. Ari couldn’t help beaming at Gwen, who appeared wickedly happy with the sword aloft, cheering along with her people and the thousands of patrons.

  When the chaos finally died, Terra had the audacity to look only mildly impressed. She stepped so close that Ari felt the buzz of the chalice. Of what they still needed to do. “Look at that. You’ve bought yourselves a grand, storied exit after all.”

  Ari charged, pressing the sword to the Administrator’s throat.

  Only, the sword passed through her. As did Ari.

  The crowd went viciously silent.

  Terra smiled.

  “You’re not even here,” Ari sputtered. “You’re a hologram.”

  “Is that what you think?” Terra laughed. “Well, Arthur never was that intelligent, so I shouldn’t have hoped you would be. Time to collect on our bargain, I think.” She snapped at the associates and the heat guns around them began to charge with a whining, climbing sound.

  “Nin?” Gwen said, horrified. “You’re Nin?”

  Terra vanished with a smile, and Gwen ran for Ari.

  Ari asked the cosmos for
one last piece of hope: that she would reach Gwen before they were murdered by dozens of heat rays. Their arms closed around each other as the shots rang out—a cacophony of extraordinary violence. Thousands of blasts and then… sparks.

  Ari felt like she’d been coated by sand. Only not quite. She opened her eyes slowly, finding herself covered in… rainbow glitter? It poured off them, creating a puddle of bright color around their feet.

  And standing between Ari and Gwen and the wall of associates was Merlin.

  A portal closed behind Merlin with a snap, which was surprising, but even more surprising was his age. He’d gone from seven back to seventeen. Possibly older. His hands were posed toward the associates’ heat guns.

  “Holy shit!” he shouted. “You were nearly incinerated!”

  “Merlin?” Gwen said as the Mercer weapons began to reload.

  Merlin snapped his fingers and every single living thing on the moon, apart from the three of them, froze. “Note to self, the moment they need me is a tad too literal. Next time I’ll try for an hour before the moment they need me. Although, let’s not hope for a next time.”

  “Slow down, Merlin,” Ari said. “You’re talking like your robes are on fire.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” he blurted without actually putting the brakes on his speech. “It’s just, I’ve been waiting for this meeting for, well, forever. I’ve been living alone in the woods, which isn’t exactly a whetstone for keeping social skills sharp. Oh, wonderful, you got my present!” He pointed to the blue sword in Ari’s fist, looking like a little kid who’d finger-painted a surprise for his mum and was suddenly afraid she wouldn’t like it. “It doesn’t have the same properties as Excalibur, but she’s quite magical and—”

  “Merlin!” Gwen said, stopping him. “How did you freeze thousands of people at once?”

  Merlin laughed as if she’d told a good joke. “I didn’t freeze them. That would take copious amounts of magic. I stopped time. Think of it like a pause button.” He mimed pushing a button. “Doesn’t require much power, it’s only a little maneuver. I can reverse time, too, but,” Merlin whistled, “that’s a bit trickier.”