The Camelot Code

by Mari Mancusi

  Lucas walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Because he has really bad taste?” he suggested teasingly.

  Elaine nodded slowly, her eyes filling with tears. “First Lancelot, then Stuart,” she whimpered. “I swear I am destined to be rejected by every knight in the land.” She leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “He should have just let me die in despair.” She sunk to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees.

  “Aww, come on, you don't mean that!” Lucas tried, grabbing her hands and pulling her back up to a standing position. “You've got a whole life ahead of you. You're pretty, you're sweet, you're obviously talented—some knight some day is totally going to notice you.” He paused, then added, “And if they don't? Well, screw it. Back in my world, girls don't just sit around, waiting for a guy to come rescue them. They go and do their own thing.”

  “Do their own thing?”

  “They have careers. Hobbies. They travel,” Lucas explained. “I mean, what do you like to do? What makes you happy?”

  “I like to ride horses,” Elaine sniffed through her tears.

  “Really? Me too,” Lucas told her. He smiled at her. “What do you say we hit the stables? See if they'll let us saddle up a couple ponies and take a ride.”

  “Really?” she asked, looking up at him with big doe eyes. “You'd really go riding with me?”

  Lucas smiled. On impulse, he reached out and brushed a lock of chestnut-colored hair from her eyes. “I'd be honored to.”

  Chapter 48

  The stench of death hung heavy in the air as the group made their way deeper and deeper into the forbidden fortress. Dark shadows danced menacingly across battle-scarred walls, while the windows rattled in warning. A nightmare scene fit to frighten even the bravest of heroes, and Lord Vanquish knew he and his companions were far from that.

  Yet still they pressed on, through cobweb-draped halls, down crumbling stone steps. Ducking lo- hanging archways, crossing rotted-out floors. They couldn’t stop now. Not when they were so close—their final enemy lying in wait just beyond the ancient iron-barred doors rising up before them.

  “Do you mind cutting out the play-by-play?” Sophie hissed, interrupting Stu's overly dramatic monologue. “I'm nervous enough without having you go all medieval ESPN on me.”

  “Aww, come on,” her friend cajoled. “I'm just trying to psyche everyone up for battle!”

  “Stu . . . “

  “I mean, aren't you even the least bit excited?” he asked, his eyes dancing. “We're finally going to take down Morgan Le Fay!”

  Sophie's face softened. “Yeah,” she admitted. “It is pretty cool.”

  “Pretty cool indeed,” Merlin agreed. “But I'm with Sophie on the running commentary. A medieval fighter should be seen and not heard. Especially when surprise is of the essence.”

  Stu groaned. “Fine, fine. Take all the fun out of the adventure, why don't you?” But a small smile showed he was just teasing.

  Sophie watched as her friend picked up the pace again, down the cobwebbed corridor and turning at the appropriate intersections. She couldn't help but notice how good Stu looked in his chainmail, especially when wielding the legendary Excalibur in his hands. He'd gone from videogame geek to medieval knight and she definitely approved of the transformation.

  When this is all over, she told herself, Elaine or no Elaine, I'm so asking him to the dance.

  At the end of the hall, a shred of light shone through a crack under a heavy wooden door. Stu turned to Sophie and Merlin. “This is it, isn't it?” he whispered. “I remember this door from Camelot's Honor. It leads to Morgan's lair. I'm sure of it!”

  Merlin nodded. “I think you're right,” he agreed, after consulting the map he'd conjured up on arrival. Magical GPS. Pretty handy.

  Sophie swallowed hard, her heart slamming against her ribcage, suddenly feeling more than a little freaked out. After all, while things had seemed fine and good in theory from the safety and comfort of Merlin's cave, being outside a real witch's door was an uncomfortable reality check.

  Because this was no videogame. No training simulation. The dungeon wouldn't reset and there'd be no do-overs if they failed.

  Because they'd be dead.

  The thought nearly had her running up the stairs and out of the castle, back into the sunshine of medieval England. But she forced herself to hold her ground, thinking of her mother's sacrifice. She'd given her whole life to help others. To protect goodness and purity and destroy the evil of the world. And now Sophie had a chance to do the same.

  To become a Companion. To make her mother proud.

  She turned to Stu, her heart feeling suddenly very full. “May Merlin be with you,” she mouthed.

  He grinned. “And also with you.”

  They stepped through the doors and into the priestess's inner sanctum: a windowless chamber with black walls and high ceilings disappearing into the darkness. Swirling mist seemed to cling to the floors while tiny white candles scattered stars of light—offering a haunting illumination.

  Lady Bella drew in a shaky breath as Morgan Le Fay drifted out from the shadows, the music swelling in her wake. Draped in robes of black and gold, her shocking purple eyes seemed to burn right through them as her mouth twisted into a smug smile. “Foolish mortals,” she purred. “Do you really think you can defeat me?”

  “Oh yeah, baby!” Stu declared, rushing into the room at top speed, Excalibur raised and ready. Merlin followed at a distance, keeping him in healing range while Sophie bided her time, still hiding behind the door. She watched as Stu slashed at the witch with his blade. But instead of knocking her down, the sword bounced harmlessly off her skin. Just like in the game, a magical bubblelike shield protected her from any harm.

  Morgan laughed manically at the warrior's attempt, raising her hands above her head. A swirling cloud of black smoke began to envelop her figure as she drew energy from the elements to aid her black spell. Sophie gasped from her hiding position outside the door as a fire bolt flew from the witch's fingers. But Stu was ready, effectively blocking the blow with his shield.

  “Nice,” she whispered, a trill of pride trickling through her. Guess Stu wasn't kidding when he said he'd been practicing.

  Morgan fell back, attempting to refresh her magic supply. But Stu wouldn't give her a break, launching immediately into his next attack. His sword, once again, bounced harmlessly off her force field, but Sophie got what he was trying to do. While he couldn't hurt Morgan in her current invincible state, he could keep her attention focused on him so Sophie could better make her move. It was called “tanking” in the videogame, and Stu was proving to be as good a tank in real life as he was in Camelot's Honor.

  She watched as the witch's shield cycled from red to green to blue. According to Merlin, when it turned purple it was time to go. She reached into her pocket, fingering her mother's book, going over the spell in her head.

  As Stu charged again, Morgan managed to let off another fire bolt. It was weaker than the first one, but aimed true and Stu, midswing, wasn't able to block it in time. Sophie stifled a scream as he fell backwards, flames engulfing his body.

  Luckily, Merlin was ready, waving his arms, his already wrinkled face further scrunched up in concentration. He screamed out a word Sophie couldn't understand and the fire extinguished immediately and Stu scrambled to his feet, shaking himself off and giving Merlin a thumbs-up as he launched back into combat position.

  Sophie exhaled, thankful they didn't try to do this without their magical teammate. It would have been a short battle for sure.

  Suddenly Morgan's shield shifted to a brilliant purple.

  Sophie drew in a breath as her mother's voice echoed through her head. “You know what to do, darling.”

  She did. While Stu distracted the witch, she reached into her pocket, pulling out the spell book and flipping to the bookmarked page. Here went nothing. She uttered the magic words under her breath.

  Bam! Pow! The
transformation was nearly instant—her body sprouting wings and feathers—folding in on itself until she emerged as a giant eagle.

  Go, go, go!

  As she shook out her feathers, Morgan took another strike at Stu, this time slashing at him with a bolt of lightning. She gasped as the electric voltage crackled through her friend's body, causing him to convulse uncontrollably.

  “Merlin!” she squawked, realizing too late that, as a bird, she was no longer able to speak English.

  Luckily, Merlin needed no instruction, muttering something under his breath and waving his arms in wild abandon. At first nothing happened and the wizard scowled with annoyance as he repeated the words and gestures all over again. Thankfully, this time the crackles faded and Stu's body fell to the ground. Merlin cast a second spell and he rose to his feet, panting hard, but looking ready to fight again.

  Sophie swallowed. That was a close one. She had to get moving.

  Taking a deep breath, she flapped her wings as hard as she could, forcing herself to take flight. The wind rushed through her feathers as she soared up into the darkened ceiling of the room, using the techniques she'd learned from Arthur when escaping from the tower.

  “Don't struggle,” he'd said. “Let the wind take you.”

  Who would have thought that practice would come to good use? Once she was feeling confident, she dared at a peek at the action below. Just in time to see Morgan turn on Merlin, her face twisting in satisfaction as she shot a torrent of water at the wizard. The water froze, encasing their healer in a block of ice. Sophie watched in horror as Merlin's surprised face froze solid, his arms and legs pinned into place. Stu rushed over, trying to chip away at the ice to free him, but the process was too slow.

  It was all up to Sophie now.

  She pointed her beak down and dove at the sorceress, landing on the top of her force field. She dug her talons into the now milky white sphere, trying to find the weak spot she knew from the videogame. But the sphere was like rubber, unyielding to her claws, and Sophie found herself bouncing off and flailing into the sky, just as Morgan turned to attack Stu again.

  As she tumbled helplessly through the air, Morgan sent a fire bolt at her friend, engulfing him in another sea of flames. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony.

  And this time there was no one to heal him.

  “No!” Sophie cried, swallowing back her fear and forcing herself to find her balance, spreading her wings and managing to right herself once again. She dove at the witch, no longer worrying about skill or style or fear of flying. She locked on to the force field and closed her eyes, imagining with all her might popping the shield and leaving the sorceress vulnerable to attack.

  “Mom,” she thought as hard as she could. “Help me now!”

  The shield burst and flew away. Morgan looked up in surprise, seeing her for the first time, pointing a gnarled finger in Sophie's direction and sending her flailing to the ground, human-shaped again. As she hit, her ankle crunched hard on the stone floor.

  Screaming in pain, she forced herself to rise to her feet anyway. There had to be something she could do. She could not let Stu die in vain. If only she could reach Excalibur.

  “Well, well,” Morgan snarled, stepping closer to Sophie. “Look who's here.”

  But the sword was lying with Stu, on the opposite side of the room. Limping, Sophie backed up, away from the witch, until she met the stone wall behind her. Desperately, she tried to summon up another round of magic. But the last attack had drained her and she was unable to pull up anything from within.

  “No one can protect you now!” the witch shrieked, lifting her arms into the air, readying her next spell. Helpless, Sophie closed her eyes, trying to come to terms with the fact that they'd failed to down Morgan Le Fay once again.

  And this was their last try.

  But instead of fire or lightning or icy pain, there was a sudden scream. Morgan’s scream.

  Sophie’s eyes flew open, just in time to see the witch’s body fall to her feet. Morgan looked up at her with pain-filled eyes.

  “It can't be!” she cried, before slumping down onto the stone cold floor. It was only then that Sophie noticed the sorceress had a sword wedged between her shoulder blades.

  The sword Excalibur to be exact.

  She looked up in confusion, her eyes falling upon Stu, stepping over the witch's body and pulling Sophie into a strong embrace. She collapsed against him, scarcely able to believe he was all right. He wasn't dead. He was alive and she was in his arms at last.

  A sudden wail interrupted their celebration, echoing through the chamber and sending chills down Sophie's spine. She watched as a shimmering spiral cloud of purple floated out from Morgan's lifeless body and began to rise into the ether.

  “What the . . . ?” she began, but was interrupted.

  “You may have won this battle,” Morgan's disembodied voice called out, followed by an evil-sounding cackle. “But the war is far from over. By the Goddess, I will come back, stronger than ever. Nothing will stop me from destroying this once and future king—once and for all!”

  And with that, the purple dissipated, the voice faded, and they were alone in the chamber once again.

  Sophie swallowed hard, turning back to Stu. He shrugged impishly. “The best games always do leave room for a sequel,” he quipped. “Or at least an expansion pack.”

  She shook her head in amazement. “What happened?” she asked. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Me? Dead? No way. I'm a level-eighty warrior, baby! I'm not going to be taken by some noob mage.” He grinned. “Besides, Arthur gave me his magical scabbard, which is like the best game hack ever.”

  Sophie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so she did some kind of awkward combo of both, hobbling over to him and throwing her arms around him once again, squeezing him tight.

  “Whoa! I still need to breathe!” he joked. But she held on tight, not wanting to let him go.

  “You were amazing,” she whispered. “A real hero.”

  “You too,” he whispered back. “I couldn't have done it without you.”

  “See what happens when we work as a team?” Merlin interrupted, walking over to them, soaking wet. Thankfully, it seemed, Morgan's ice spell had melted with her death.

  Sophie squealed and hugged the magician tightly and when she was finished Stu did the same. “That was so epic!” he cried, and Merlin laughed, nodding his agreement.

  “It was indeed epic,” he declared. “But we're not quite done. We still need to collect Princess Guinevere, you know. I think Arthur would be rather disappointed if you came home without her.”

  Sophie and Stu looked at each other. D'oh! In the excitement of battle, they'd almost forgotten the real reason they were here.

  “Don't worry,” Merlin said, catching the looks on their faces. “I think I can manage that part alone. You two wait here and I'll retrieve the princess. Then I'll warp us all back to the castle.” He paused, then added, “It may take me a little time, though. So, I hope you can occupy yourselves in the meanwhile.”

  “I think we can manage,” Stu assured him, and Sophie caught Merlin giving him a knowing wink before disappearing around the corner.

  Once he was gone, she turned back to Stu. “I’m so sorry,” she babbled. “I never should have asked you to go and become King Arthur. If something had happened to you—”

  “Are you kidding me?” Stu cried. “This was the most amazing experience ever. I loved every minute of it. Well, except for one thing.”

  She searched his face for teasing. “What’s that? No videogames?”

  “No silly. No you.”

  “Oh Stu!” Her heart soared as she threw her arms around him once again.

  “Hold on, hold on!” he cried laughingly. “I have to ask you something. Merlin will kill me if I chicken out again.”

  Heart pounding, she released him. “What's that?” she whispered, feeling terrified.

  He took her chin in his hands,
drawing her eyes up to meet his own. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the adoration in his gaze. “Sophie Sawyer,” he said. “Will you go to the Snowflake Dance with me?”

  She felt herself melt at his words. “I thought…I thought you had someone else.”

  He looked at her, confused. “I thought you did.”

  She started laughing. “No! I just said I did because I thought you did. And I was jealous, I guess.” She shook her head. It all sounded so stupid now. If only she'd been honest in the first place.

  But it didn't matter. She could tell by the look on his face that it didn't matter one bit. She smiled. “I would love to go to the dance with you, Stuart Mallory.”

  “Sweet,” he crowed, leaning forward to finally give her that long-awaited kiss. Which, Sophie realized, was definitely worth the wait.

  Chapter 49

  The hall had been cleaned within an inch of its life and the dogs kicked out to the kennels. A bountiful feast had been laid out on the tables and two brand-new thrones sat up on a dais, gleaming with gold and jewels. The drinks flowed freely as the court musicians played a rowdy tune, and everyone from the highest lord to the lowest serf found themselves a corner to dance in.

  But Arthur had eyes for none of it. Only her.

  “M’lady, may I have this dance?” he murmured, approaching and bowing low.

  “Why, I would honored, m’lord,” Guinevere replied demurely, lowering her eyes as she returned the bow, her thick lashes sweeping daintily against her pale cheeks. Arthur’s heart stirred all over again. Gone were the twenty-first-century miniskirts and in their place a gorgeous pure silver silk gown threaded with intricate embroidery that sparkled in the candlelight. He had to admit, as much as he liked her modern attire, this was better. So much better.

  He pulled her into his arms and out onto the dance floor. The musicians, catching his eye, launched into a romantic ballad, the bard singing soulfully of their recent victory against the Saxons. The plan he'd worked out with Lucas had gone off without a hitch and the army had sent the Saxons fleeing the island in record time.