The Camelot Code

by Mari Mancusi

  If only his army would be a bit more enthusiastic about their noble quest.

  “This better not take long,” Garrett grumbled. “The game starts at eight and I forgot to DVR it.”

  “And I'm supposed to play Call of Duty,” Connor declared. “I promised my cousin. Not to mention it's freaking freezing out here.” He pulled his jacket tighter around his body for emphasis.

  “Yeah, and I'm starving,” added Tristan. “How long do you think we have to be out here anyway?”

  Arthur frowned. “All night, if necessary! Remember, a boy's life is at stake!”

  The knights rolled their eyes.

  “Not all night,” their coach interjected. “The police have instituted a curfew. Everyone needs to be back here before dark.” He glanced at his watch. “That gives us about an hour. Then we'll go get pizza.”

  Everyone cheered at this. Arthur sighed.

  “Go ahead,” Lucas encouraged him, pointing to the map Arthur had borrowed from the police. “Let's make a plan.”

  Arthur nodded, laying out the map and grabbing the tokens he'd borrowed from Lucas's game of Risk from his pocket, spreading them out onto the forest floor. “Lucas and Tristan, you take the west flank,” he instructed, placing a green token on the map. “Garrett and Connor, you take the north. Percy and Graham can scour the east. Be careful though,” he added, addressing the blond halfback. “Watch out for the swamp, here.” He placed a red token, to mark the rough terrain. “And I will cover the southern area with Mortimer.” He looked up. “If you find yourself in trouble, make a sound like this.” He chirped a swallow's call. “And the rest of us will come to your aid.”

  “Or, you know, we can just send a group text,” Garrett pointed out. The others laughed.

  “Um, right.” Arthur shrugged, having no idea what he was talking about. “We'll meet back here in an hour and discuss what we've found.” He looked up. “Good luck and be careful. Remember you are on a noble quest and you will—”

  “Get pizza when we're done!” interrupted Connor, raising his hand in a fist. The others cheered.

  “Let's doooo eeeet!” crowed Percy.

  As they broke from the huddle, Arthur watched a metal carriage pull up to the search site. His eyes widened as the vehicle stopped and none other than Guinevere herself stepped outside. His pulse kicked up in response. He told himself it made sense; the princess was the noblest girl he'd ever met—surely she'd want to help this lost boy as much as he did.

  But seeing her here, ready and willing to help a complete stranger in need, made his heart ache. All he wanted to do was run to her, throw his arms around her, and squeeze her tight. Thanking her for coming, for caring enough to want to help. To apologize for how he'd treated her on the football field earlier that day.

  She'd traveled all this way—a thousand years into the future—risking her very life to come and find him. And what had he done to repay her devotion? He'd pushed her away. He'd accused her of horrible things—of a crime she had not yet committed. What had he been thinking?

  “Excuse me,” he said to the knights. “I need to speak with someone.”

  His heart pounded as he forced himself to approach her, feeling as if he was already stuck in the swamp he'd warned Percy about. It is only Guinevere, he tried to remind himself. Your best friend and the girl who has seen you at your worst. How can you be afraid of her now?

  But he was afraid. Afraid he'd lost her forever.

  She had changed from her typical long gown into something much more modern. In fact, if Arthur didn't know any better, he'd say she was dressed like a boy, with a short white tunic tucked into baggy blue trousers. If anyone had described the outfit to him before this very moment, Arthur would have declared it unfit for a lady to wear. But on her, somehow it seemed utterly feminine—with her blond curls unbound and bouncing prettily off her shoulders. In fact, she looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her before. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as he pressed still further.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He looked over in surprise. With his eyes locked on Guinevere, he hadn't realized she had been joined by none other than Sophie. Was she going to yell at him again? Or would she be impressed that he had taken it upon himself to do good?

  “The knights and I are on a noble quest,” he declared. “To find a missing boy.”

  Sophie stared at him, incredulous. “Are you freaking kidding me?” she demanded. “Don't you think that's a little ironic, considering—”

  “Sophie, do you mind if I talk to Guinevere alone for a moment?” he interrupted. Forget trying to please her; she was evidently determined to be angry with him, no matter what he did.

  Sophie sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Good luck with him,” she muttered to Guinevere, heading over to the main police tent and leaving the two of them alone. Seeing his opportunity, Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment his tongue chose to tie itself in a thousand knots. He found himself just staring at her helplessly, instead.

  “So, what do you want now?” Guinevere demanded, filling the awkward silence. “Do you wish to scold me some more—to condemn me for things I have not done?”

  His heart broke at her angry words. Words he deserved to hear. Here he was trying to be a noble knight, and in reality, he was the lowest person in the world.

  “Guin, I'm sorry!” he cried, looking at her beseechingly. “I was completely wrong in saying those things to you. Accusing you of things you didn't do. You've stood by me my whole life—when no one else would. I know I can trust you—no matter what the Google says.” He squared his shoulders, gaining courage. “And I'm prepared to do that, from here on out.”

  A look of relief washed over her face, making him feel good. Maybe this would turn out all right after all. Maybe he wasn't too late.

  “Arthur, I would never betray you,” she assured him. “I need you to believe that.”

  “I do. I promise I do!” he cried. Feeling daring, he reached over and slipped a hand into her own. It felt so soft. So right. He had to trust in that. To trust in her. That was the only way to move forward.

  “So,” he added after a pause, feeling suddenly shy. “You really want to marry me?”

  Her face pinked in a beautiful blush. “If you'll have me,” she replied in a soft voice. Then she looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Imagine it, Arthur. You and I, ruling the kingdom, side by side. Righting all the wrongs in the land, just as we always dreamed about. No longer will families live in fear. No longer will errant knights run wild. We can create a land of equality and liberty and justice—”

  “What if we stayed here instead?” Arthur blurted out.

  She dropped his hand abruptly, staring at him with a confused expression. As if the idea had never occurred to her. And maybe it hadn't. She hadn't been in the twenty-first century for more than a few hours. She had no idea the wonders of this world. But she would love it here, he suddenly decided. And together they could find a true happily ever after.

  “It would be amazing,” he told her. “This world is incredible—you'll see. And this way we can avoid all the bad stuff that's destined to happen to us back home. I mean, you'll never even meet a Lancelot, never mind fall in love with him. You'll never betray me. And the kingdom won't be destroyed. No one will die. I won't die . . . “ He trailed off, catching the dismayed expression on her face. “What?”

  “Arthur, think about what you're saying!” she cried. “You think you can just live here—abandoning your people back home? They've been praying for years for a great king to pull the sword from the stone and rescue them from oppression. And now you have the chance to become that king. To help children like Thom and mothers like Sara. To give them a better life and bring peace to the land. How could you possibly turn your back on them?”

  Her words stung like a thousand bee stings. Mostly because he knew she was right. But at the same time . . .

  “Guin, I've read my own story,” he pleaded. “If I g
o home, I die. I'm murdered in cold blood by a man who wants my throne. What kind of good can I do if I'm dead?” he demanded. “I can accomplish so much more here, in this world. Like right now!” he added excitedly. “I'm here to save a lost boy! He needs my help and—”

  Guinevere laughed bitterly. He stopped, confused. “What?”

  “Don't you get it?” she asked. “You won't find Stu lost in the woods. In fact, you could search a thousand years. You won't find him anywhere in this world.”

  “What are you talking about?” Was he already dead? Was Arthur too late?

  Guinevere shook her head. “He's back home, filling in for you. Merlin made him look just like you so he could pull the sword from the stone, since you weren't around to do it. And now he's ruling your kingdom, trying to keep things together while you're off playing football.” She spit out the word football, as if expelling poison.

  Arthur stared at her, shocked beyond belief. “But why would he do that?” he asked.

  “Because someone had to. And evidently you're too much of a coward.” She glared at him, her eyes full of fire. “You know, I thought more of you, Arthur,” she declared. “But really, in the end, you're no better than Agravaine himself.”

  And with that, she stormed off. Arthur watched her go, too stunned to even follow. Was she telling the truth? Could Stu really be back in time, living his life, fulfilling his destiny, saving his people, and risking his life—all because Arthur was too afraid to do so? He felt shame wash over him at the thought.

  Well, maybe it was all for the best, he told himself miserably. Someone like him—someone so cowardly—didn't deserve to be a knight. A king. And they certainly didn't deserve a girl like Guinevere. Who knew? Maybe Stu would do a better job than him in the end. Maybe he was the one who really deserved to be king.

  “Hey, Art? You coming?” Lucas called out to him. “Let's get this search started, bro!” The other knights called to him, gesturing him to hurry up. But what was the point? Obviously this was a stupid idea from the start. Just like all his other ideas.

  “Forget it,” he muttered, feeling depressed beyond belief. “I'm just going to wait for the pizza.”

  Chapter 34

  Guinevere was done with boys. Absolutely done. They were pig-headed and stupid and she'd rather join a nunnery than bother with any of them ever again. She couldn't believe Arthur had had the nerve to ask her to stay here in the twenty-first century with him. To abandon everyone who needed them and hide away, living a selfish existence in a place they didn't belong. This wasn't the Arthur she'd grown up with. The one who would do anything to help a friend. She'd always considered him more noble than most of the knights of the realm. So why was he acting like such a coward?

  Of course he had good reason to be afraid. Sophie had shown Guin the history texts and she knew the horrors he'd be forced to face by taking the throne. Surely no one would desire a future so grim. But that was no excuse to run away from your destiny—to rob others of a better life by placing your own happiness above theirs. A good king cared more for his subjects than himself. He'd die for them, without question, if asked to do so.

  But as angry as she was with Arthur, Guin was even more furious with herself. After all, she was supposed to be trying to convince him to come home—not give him more reasons to stay. Now, thanks to her, he knew his throne was being kept warm while he was away—with stand-in Stuart Mallory fulfilling his destiny for him, while he had fun playing football. With a Merlin-approved replacement sitting on the throne, what purpose did Arthur have to return home himself?

  None. And it was all her fault.

  She slammed her fist against a tree, regretting the move the moment her hand connected with the trunk. Sighing, she flopped down onto the ground, defeated. She knew she should go find Sophie, but what was the point? They'd just be wandering around the woods for no reason, searching for a boy who would never be found, in part, thanks to her.

  “Whoa, you look like you're ready to kill someone.”

  Guin looked up, surprised at the interruption. In her rage she hadn't noticed Lucas come up beside her. He dropped to his knees, studying her face with worried eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  She hung her head, feeling stupid. “I don't want to talk about it.” Pain shot up her hand and she rubbed it ruefully.

  “Did it involve punching someone out?” Lucas asked, gesturing to her hand.

  “I wish. It might have hurt a lot less.”

  Lucas laughed appreciatively. “Well, you know what's guaranteed to make you feel better when you're mad at the world, don't you?”

  “What's that?”

  “An extra-extra-extra-large cherry Slurpee from 7-Eleven.”

  Guin looked at him blankly. “A what?”

  Lucas's eyes lit up in excitement. “Dude! You don't know what a Slurpee is?” he asked. “Oh, you foreigners are missing out on the best stuff on earth. Okay, technically, yeah, that's Snapple's claim to fame, but one sip and you'll know that that's all corporate lies and propaganda. The Slurpee is where it's at, for realz.”

  Guinevere couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. “And where might one find such a rare and powerful treasure?” she asked.

  Lucas's smile faded, his eyes darting from left to right, then back to her, putting a finger to his lips. “Well,” he said in a low voice. “It involves a highly dangerous quest. I don't know if you're up for it . . . “

  Guin squared her shoulders. “You insult me, sir. I would never turn away from such a noble endeavor.”

  “Very well,” Lucas declared, his dancing eyes betraying his otherwise serious expression. “Then let's be off. But be very quiet,” he added. “We don't want to get caught. Coach won't be happy if he finds out we've snuck off instead of searching.”

  Guin nodded, rising to her feet and following Lucas past the search tent and toward the field of cars.

  “I should tell Sophie where I'm going,” she hedged.

  “We'll only be a minute,” Lucas assured her. “She won't even know you're gone.” He glanced behind them, as if to be sure they weren't being followed, then nodded to Guin.

  “Go, go!” he cried, dashing through the field of cars, diving behind a nearby wooden fence. Guin followed, running at full speed, until she, too, could duck safely behind the wood.

  As she tried to catch her breath, Lucas tossed her a silly grin. “Good job,” he praised. “But the next part will be even more challenging.” He gestured for her to peek through a knothole in the fence. “Seven-Eleven is just beyond the parking lot,” he explained. “Across the road. But the lot is being patrolled by a policeman. And if he catches us trying to sneak away, he'll report us to my coach and then we'll be in for it.”

  “Are you sure you want to take the risk?” Guinevere asked, excitement thrumming through her veins.

  Lucas grinned. “Trust me, it's worth it to have you taste your first Slurpee.” He peered through the knothole again. “We'll have a better chance if we split up,” he said. “That way if one of us gets caught, at least the other has a chance to go free.” He pulled away and gestured for her to look through the hole. “See that big sign at the start of the road? Meet me there.”

  Guin took a peek at the sign. It seemed so far. But she didn't want Lucas to think she was some scared little girl. “Very well,” she declared, pushing down her fear. “I'm ready.”

  He gave her a mock salute. “Good luck!”

  And with that, they were off, each bounding in separate directions. Guin reached the parking lot first, ducking behind a brown car, then poking her head up to look through its dirty windows, trying to determine the location of the guard. She spotted him a few rows down, looking back up at the rescue site. Sucking in a breath, she made her move, running to the next car and diving behind it. From across the parking lot, she saw Lucas do the same and smiled to herself. This was fun!

  She continued, moving slowly and methodically, not rushing, not taking risks. It wasn't a race, s
he told herself. Safety was more important than speed. Soon she reached the end of the parking lot and was ready to make her final run for the sign.

  But just as she was about to go, she realized the police officer was on the move, heading in the same direction she'd last seen Lucas. Her heart pounded. She had to save him! She glanced around the parking lot, searching for some distraction. Her eyes alighted on a medium-size stone, just under the car. She grabbed it in her hand and threw it as hard as she could in the opposite direction. The stone collided with a window and a moment later, a high-pitched sound started wailing through the air. Guinevere said a silent apology to the car's owner for any damage she might have caused.

  “Hey! What was that?” the guard demanded, turning in the direction of the sound. He started running toward the scene. Guin turned back to Lucas, watching him use his momentary advantage to make his final move. From across the parking lot, he flashed her a huge grin, then did a show-off flip, landing just behind the sign. She had to hold her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, realizing she needed to make her own move before the officer came back.

  A moment later, she was at the sign, hidden from the police officer's view.

  “That was amazing,” she cried. “I was sure I was going to get caught!”

  “Well, I totally would have if you hadn't thrown that rock,” Lucas declared, hands on his knees, trying to catch his own breath. “I owe you my life.”

  “How about you just buy me that Slurpee?”

  He grabbed her hand in his own warm one and shook it hard. “Sounds like a plan,” he declared. “Now let's go before anyone realizes we're gone.”

  They crossed the street and headed down the road until they came to a building marked 7-Eleven. Lucas led Guinevere inside and she suddenly found herself surrounded by a wonderland oasis of food and other fascinating delights. She picked up a rainbow-colored package off one of the shelves, turning it over in her hands, wondering what on earth a “Skittles” could be.