Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4

by Skye, Sariah

  “Fuck yeah, Percival.”

  “Did you know him ever?” Bash inquired, and Rhys shook his head.

  “A little, but not well. Mostly I know him from Morty,” he replied, flashing me a wink.

  “I should have known you were the weakest all along. I was blinded by your intelligence.” Arthur looked at his former knight with reprimand, as his face fell into an expression of shame. “Lamorak will take your place now, traitor.” The crowd cheered, rising their fists in the air, interrupting Bedivere. Arthur flashed a boastful smile into the crowd, and made a shushing motion with his hands, allowing Bedivere to read the next two men’s charges: one of them for public drunkenness, the other for an extra marital affair, resulting in the woman next to him getting pregnant. She cried quietly and shivered in terror.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling, as she explained that she was sold as a young bride at thirteen into a loveless marriage where she was raped and attacked. Her husband died but her “old” family didn’t allow her to remarry. She was seen as nothing more than “property.” I was enraged.

  Humanity might not have been perfect, but at least generally the majority of us accepted you couldn’t own another person.

  I gripped Excalibur so tightly I was sure the pattern of the hilt was permanently pressed into my palm. The sword practically hummed and shook too, heating at the hilt with the same red-hot fury I felt. It didn’t have to speak in my head: we were on the same page.

  Arthur was going down.

  “You are all scheduled to death by hanging, to be carried out on this day. May the God have mercy on your souls,” Arthur commanded, and two of the knights moved to start putting the nooses around their necks.

  I jumped, startled, hearing an eagle’s shriek from nearby. Trystan’s eagle form swooped down, with the brown sack carried in his yellow claws. He dove quickly, so fast I sucked in a breath, thinking he was going to crash into the hard ground, but he leveled out last minute and quickly flew upward, doing this several more times around the courtyard, pulling the attention away from the gallows and the accused. The crowd tittered with confusion until Trystan pulled up into the sky again, heading in the direction outside of the palace.

  “Hang low, things are about to get really ugly,” Mathias warned, stretching out his arm across me. “Rhys, the second you can, take the woman first, and follow Bash.”

  “Follow. Bash—what?”

  “Soon, Ava. Soon.” Mathias said sternly, turning his attention back towards the front gate.

  “Proceed,” Arthur commanded, when Percival had the noose wrapped tightly around his neck. He didn’t smile or cry, just frowned with determination into the crowd.

  “Enough, Arthur!”

  I spun around, surprised and confused, hearing Xander’s voice ring out loudly in the courtyard. Everyone turned their gaze, including me, watching the storm wielder stand out as he stood in the gateway.

  “Who are you? Guards!” Arthur demanded, thrusting out a hand, and several guards standing around the perimeter began to charge Xander, who just grinned smugly, looking imposing as he parted the crowd.

  “Not so fast!” Xander called out, raising his hands, palms upward, and the wind began to pick up, thunder looming in the distance. His words were unintelligible to me as I knew he was speaking Chinese, summoning up the strongest of his magic. His hair whipped around him and clouds and fog began to form nearby, rising up over the courtyard, forming deep, dark clouds, much like he did that day he saved me from Swarthy in the park. Someone began to shriek loudly, as a bolt of lightning danced out from the clouds and struck the ground below, shaking everything around it, causing the people nearby to scream and scatter as Xander built the storm.

  I sometimes called him “storm ninja” because it’s completely what he was like; he was agile and used kicks and punches to channel and use his magic. Normally he was sultry, sexy, and passionate from his black hair to his sideways smile. But right now, he started to terrify even me, even though I knew better, as the shadows illuminated his handsome face in between the lightning strikes, emphasizing a devilish grin he wore.

  “Damn,” I muttered in awe to Rhys, who was still nearby. He echoed with a wide-eyed, slow nod.

  Everyone was so focused on Xander that no one seemed to notice Bash dart onto the wooden surface of the gallows. From the gentle shimmer around him, I knew he was still channeling my stealth magic, and he jerked his head at Rhys.

  “Careful, Priestess,” Rhys said, quickly clamping his hand around mine for strength, before releasing and blinking away, appearing just beside Bash.

  The conjured thunder and wind were so loud around me, around everyone, that I couldn’t hear Bash speaking. Several guards nearby fell to the ground, as Mathias flashed around the perimeter, still invisible, and knocked them out individually with one clothesline of his huge arm.

  All the while Arthur had stepped back, away from the prisoners ready for hanging, guarded by Bedivere and one other guards—another blond that resembled Percival, swords drawn. I noticed Arthur was completely and foolishly unarmed, and the thought made me grin evilly to myself as Excalibur hummed and nearly sang in my hand.

  “Don’t worry, we’re going to get him,” I said, speaking indiscernibly to the sword.

  I am not worried… “priestess…”

  Smug bastard… I smirked triumphantly at it, holding it before me, waiting for my chance.

  Xander continued to chant, and the storm around us grew larger and more severe. The lightning darted from cloud to summoned cloud, hanging barely above the walls. Thunder shook the ground below, and people were beginning to cower together in small huddles, ducking to the ground, bracing themselves from the magically-manufactured storm.

  I swallowed, watching him continue to spin and twist the magic around him, thrusting it outward into the corners nearby, the areas where Trystan seemed to of dropped whatever had been in that brown sachet. Blinding lightning shot up from the ground and into the sky, causing the hair on my neck to stand at attention from the sheer electricity in the air. Everything smelled of strong ozone, until the rain began to fall down from the manufactured sky in sheets.

  Arthur appeared completely panicked, and the thought made me squirm with delight as I hid, invisible, the sword before me as I waited for my chance. He an order to his guards but he couldn’t be heard over the storm. His gaze darted back and forth, looking for a path of escape that wasn’t blocked by fleeing Camelot citizens, flashing lightning or sheets of rain. Basically? He was stuck. He made a futile attempt to spin and jump off the side of the gallows, when Bash shouted loudly.

  “Do not go anywhere… Arthur!” Bash called out with menace and Arthur, the guards, and even the prisoners appeared shocked seeing the genius siphon appear out of nowhere. Rhys still stood nearby, anxiously shifting from foot to foot, hands at the ready for whatever, waiting for his chance.

  “Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?” Arthur demanded, trying to appear composed but the worry was apparent in his furrowed brow.

  “Avalon, you bastard,” Bash spat back venomously, and Arthur’s brow lowered as he glowered.

  “You are one of Lancelot’s bastard daughter’s consorts,” he replied with disgust.

  “Yes, I am.” Bash grinned proudly.

  “Sickening…” Arthur stepped forward, with a commanding look on his face. “Citizens of Camelot, this—”

  “—oh fuck off, Arthur, and your stupid holier-than-thou bullshit!” Rhys shouted, with a sneer, as he flourished one of his hands. Now Arthur really seemed shocked.

  “Merlin? How could—you died. Years ago…”

  Rhys tipped back his head with a maniacal laugh. “Died? Like anything could kill me, except your snide ass, superior attitude. Please, do you not remember me catching you in your bedchambers that one time, your dick in hand, pleasuring yourself to—”

  “—Enough!” Arthur roared, his icy eyes full of anger. “I don’t have to tolerate this from
you, you immoral cretin!”

  Rhys rolled his eyes. “Oh God. Seriously? You’re the one that casted out your sister—which I don’t blame you for because she’s as crazy as a nymphomaniac in a sex shop—and allowed your knights many moons ago to go out cavorting with the witches of Avalon during the Harvest, not caring how many of those unions ended up in pregnancies. How come those were okay—” he gestured articulately to the pregnant woman, still on the gallows, “—but she is not? Hypocrite much?”

  “Merlin…” Arthur warned.

  Rhys scoffed. “Merlin doesn’t exist anymore. He died along with your goodness, I’m afraid. I’m Emrys Ambriosius, or ‘Rhys’. You are just a worthless, mind-fucked bastard out of his time.” Rhys opened his hand, a green ball of magic appearing, the light giving off a twisted shadow, making his face appear much more frightening than his general spritely appearance.

  “Rhys,” Bash said, lifting a pointed brow.

  “Ugh. Fine. I have things to do.” Rhys smirked, and leaned in closer to Arthur and said something just between the two of them that resulted in Arthur glowering thunderously. Rhys laughed wildly, snapped his fingers after diffusing the green magic, and appeared in half a heartbeat next to the pregnant woman. He held out his arm with feigned grace. “Care to leave, milady?” Before she could respond, he gripped her arm and in an instant, they were gone. Where to, I didn’t know.

  “What the—”

  “Face it, Arthur, you’ve been thwarted. Call off your war with humanity, and we will let you and your court go, no harm done,” Bash commanded, and Arthur glowered.

  “Never! You are all immoral demons, that—”

  Bash frowned. “Damn. That’s a shame. I really didn’t want to do this, this is going to hurt.” He glanced over across the courtyard at Xander, who still mastered the storm, shooting lightning bolts like a Greek god at several of the guards who tried to charge him. They didn’t get far, especially when Mathias got a hold of them. He wasn’t even feral yet, and already people were terrified of him.

  A swirl of lightning bolts shot up Bash’s arm and he winced briefly before pulling at the magic with his other hand, letting the lightning shoot between his palms before swiftly shooting it at Arthur.

  Boldly, one of Arthur’s guards quickly positioned himself between the bolt, lifting his sword, but it only served to conduct the energy. His eyes widened as he was shocked, and fell unceremoniously at the ground. Arthur’s eyes widened in temporary terror, but I swore Bedivere smiled gently. But I couldn’t be sure. And it didn’t matter because it was soon wiped away as Bash conducted more of the storm into his hands, shooting the magic behind the gallows, completely encapsulating the entire courtyard in rain, storm, and lightning.

  Arthur truly looked terrified now and the thought pleased me immensely. Rhys appeared again, making Arthur jump, gaze darting around looking for any sort of escape.

  Bash flicked a nod at Rhys, and the two of them positioned themselves around the remaining prisoners, Rhys reaching out and touching two of them, Bash, one other.

  “Do you see what these immoral souls are doing? Scaring you, depriving the kingdom of much needed recompense, retribution for their heinous crimes!” Arthur cried out, desperate for attention.

  Rhys just let out a low groan. “Oh come on. Besides a little rain, none of the lightning is hitting anyone, but it should hit you—maybe it’ll knock some sense into your fool head. Sebastian?” He said, looking over at him. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s.” With a nod, the five of them disappeared, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Another loud crash of thunder shook the gallows, bringing Arthur to his knees, and knocking Bedivere over. He took his chance and began to dart down the stairs that led up to the platform, when Trystan appeared from the sky, slicing through the wind and rain, completely untouched and appeared like he was going to crash, when he shifted quickly into his imposing, Scottish human form.

  “‘Ello, Arthur. You bloody arse, mad bastard. I’ve heard what you said about my fiancée, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you get away with it.” A twisted smile appeared on his face as he drew a jagged-edged dagger from a sheath at his waist and waved it in front of Arthur’s face.

  “Who the hell are you now?”

  Trystan let out a low laugh, shaking out the water droplets that had rained on his face and began to mat down his unruly auburn hair. “Trystan Munro, ye bloody git. Remember the name, you’ll be screaming it on your deathbed, you crazy fucker.”

  Arthur turned in a panic, slowly backing away.

  Now is your chance, Excalibur thrummed, ready for action. I double checked for my magic and stealthily crept through the courtyard, loving how the invisible shield kept out the wind and rain, too. I jumped up the stairs before Arthur could step away further.

  When I was little more than a step behind him, I dropped the magic, raising the sword high into the air as it glimmered and flashed against the bright lightning that lit up the area.

  Trystan was briefly shocked, and shook his head quickly “no” at me, but I didn’t care.

  Enough people had suffered by this man.

  He needs to pay for all he has done…

  I couldn’t agree more, I silently agreed.

  It was time to end it.

  “Hello, Arthur.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Startled, Arthur swiveled around, and Trystan took the opportunity to wrap his long, thick arm around his neck.

  “How—what? Is that—” he began, stammering, completely at a loss for words.

  “Yes, it is.” I brandished it from side to side, as effortlessly as lifting a feather. “Say hello to Excalibur again.”

  “Avalon…” My name was cautious and desperate on his lips, his eyes wide.

  “That’s right. You know, Lancelot’s bastard daughter.” I narrowed my eyes at him, never wavering; the feel of the sword in my hand giving me strength I wasn’t supposed to have. I flicked out the long blade, brandishing it directly at him, while the sword gave off a brief flash of red, like it, too was angry. Of course I knew it was; the soul in the sword had just as much reason to be angry at Arthur as I had.

  The storm had begun to taper off, and the citizens who hadn’t managed to flee watched the showdown between us.

  “Ava…” I felt a strong hand as Mathias appeared behind me. I ignored him for the time being, but I was glad to know he was there.

  “Listen, Arthur. What you did to the witches, to Avalon was unforgivable. You have two choices now, you can either return with us to Avalon, or die right here where you stand. Your choice, asshole. I won’t be this generous next time, I already made that mistake with your beloved shadow fae skankbitch whore, or whatever the hell she is,” I said, with a short laugh. Arthur balked briefly until I glared, and positioned the tip of the blade a little higher and closer to the artery at his neck.

  Arthur lifted his gaze, glaring down his nose at me with determination. “You’ll have to kill me, then. Not that you have it in you, daughter of Lancelot.”

  “Och, even if she doesn’t—and I promise you, do not ever underestimate this woman, the gods help me,” Trystan growled loudly. “I promise you, we do. Surely, you remember Septimus.”

  “Of course. The last time we met on the battlefield you were struggling with life. Pity. A shame you aligned yourself poorly, Septimus,” Arthur spoke disparagingly, flashing a sneer between the two of us.

  Mathias let out a thunderous growl behind me. “I oughta rip your head clean off your body and be done with it, King Arthur, for everything you’ve done. For your threats against us, for attempting to kill a pregnant woman and innocent child, and for your attack on Avalon that killed two witches.”

  “Avalon?” Arthur flinched with brief confusion. “You’re daft, I did not sanction any attacks on Avalon.”

  Nimue, was the silent thought that went unsaid between the three of us.

  “Like we’d believe you.” Xander had made his way through the chaos, and
now stood near us on the gallows, more than ready for the “showdown” with Arthur. Though it wasn’t much of a showdown. Arthur was had, and he knew it. “Drop the sword, Ava. He’s not going anywhere, regardless of what he wants.”

  “Hmmmpph… I don’t trust him,” I said, glowering at him, not even feeling the chill in the air from the storm that had completely now subsided.

  “You don’t need to, dearest. Just trust us,” Xander whispered into my ear, and I breathed in deeply. I wanted to, but after being thwarted by Nimue now, for the death of two of the witches, I just couldn’t relent.

  “No, I’m sorry, I cannot. This is for Gloriana, and for Esther. You know them, Arthur? Two of the witches that died by the hand of your evil fucking mate,” I said, shaking the sword and taking another step towards him. The hilt in my hand vibrated and trembled in anticipation, the runes on the face blinking, and twisting red.

  “The only one that will be dying today, Priestess, is you, if you do not release the king.”

  The snarl that escaped my lips was immediate. I didn’t even have to turn, by the way the sky darkened and the shiver of hopelessness flitted over my skin I knew who it was. “Nice if you to join us, Nimue. You’re late.”

  “Ava…” Mathias said trepidatiously behind me.

  “Yes, listen to your gorgeous protector,” Nimue responded in a sugary, falsely-sweet tone. Reluctantly, when Mathias set a cool hand on mine, backing me up, I glanced over my shoulder, and felt my heart slip into my stomach, squeezed into a vice.

  “Dad…”

  Nimue, the horrid bitch, somehow had gotten a hold of my father, and had him subdued with a wall of shadow surrounding his feet, and a “rope” of it binding his arms behind him.

  “Ava—forget me, just do what you have to!” my father shouted adamantly.

  Nimue flicked her hand and my father’s face was surrounded with another “rag” of shadow; his eyes widened and bugged as his breath was lost.

  “Damn you!” Out of instinct I glowered, and thrust Excalibur in her direction, the blade releasing a blast of golden, Avalon magic that caught her off guard. She shrieked in horror as it struck her, rendering her magic temporarily useless as she stumbled, and fell to the ground. The gag over my father’s face released, but the ones surrounding his feet and arms did not. I growled angrily.