The Seven Swords

by Nils Johnson-Shelton

  “Yes,” Merlin said. “Erik should see the Otherworld before he’s told about it. He’ll be more easily convinced that way, I think.”

  Kay narrowed her eyes, nodded, and then bounded off to her room to get ready.

  That morning the Kingfisher house buzzed with anticipation. Lance made sure his bow and arrows were in top shape. Kynder packed a large duffel bag with his Arthurian research and another with clothing. Bedevere sharpened his claymore and checked his armor. Kay packed the infinite backpack and made sure they had some warm clothes.

  At eleven in the morning Artie was in his room looking over the stuff he’d laid out on his bed: Excalibur’s empty scabbard, a pile of headlamps, and his trusty dagger, Carnwennan. He twirled Excalibur’s pommel in his hand. And that was when it came to him!

  He ran downstairs and found Merlin in the kitchen eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.

  “Merlin! I’ve got it!”

  Merlin swallowed hard and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I know how we can get Excalibur! And rescue Qwon at the same time!”

  Merlin tilted his head and asked, “How’s that, my boy?”

  “We just go there!” Artie exclaimed, holding out the pommel.

  Merlin put down his sandwich and looked at it seriously. “You know, I never had a P-B-and-J before breaking out of the tower. It’s so simple, yet so scrumptious!”

  “Merlin, did you hear me? It’d be like a special ops raid or whatever—drop in behind enemy lines, get what we need, and get out. It’s perfect!”

  Merlin gave Artie a forlorn look. “Yes, it sounds perfect. And it is true that the pommel can take you anywhere. But you first have to know where you’re going, Artie, or at least have a very good mental picture of it. You can transport to the Library now, for instance, or your court-in-exile, or even Tiberius’s hidden cave—but only because you know those places. Remember when you ordered Excalibur to take you to the Font a few weeks back?”

  “Sure,” Artie said as dejection began to settle around him like a fog.

  “Did it take you right to it?”

  “No . . .”

  “Right. Listen, my boy, even if you could get into the Castel, there’s no guarantee you would be anywhere near Excalibur. What if you transported into a trap? What if you landed in Morgaine’s bedroom? You could materialize inside a wall, or in midair over the moat! I’m sorry, Artie, but we can’t risk it. However . . .”

  Artie looked up eagerly. “Yes?”

  “If we could find out where Excalibur is being kept, then your idea may be quite effective. What we need, then, is—”

  “A spy!” Artie yelped.

  “Precisely. But where to get one?” Merlin thought for a few moments and then snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Thumb and Tiberius were planning on meeting Lord Lot, the leader of the fairy kingdom of Leagon, to request the service of Shallot le Fey and her fairy blade, The Anguish. While they are there, they will also ask him for a spy. Fairies hate Morgaine and her minions, so Lot should be eager to help. Plus, Leagonese spies are the absolute best.”

  “Great!” Artie said. “Sounds like a plan.” And before Merlin could say anything else, Artie bolted back to his room.

  They were finally set.

  Kynder, Merlin, Lance, Thumb, Bedevere, Artie, and Kay circled up in the game room, where all this craziness had started. Lance carried Erik, who was still fast asleep, over his shoulder like a wounded soldier.

  Before going to the court-in-exile, they were stopping at the Library to drop off Kynder and Merlin. The wizard would help Kynder get set up so he could find out more about the identity of the person who wielded the Peace Sword (and also look into why Excalibur wanted Merlin iced—but that was a secret). Then Merlin would leave and go to a secret location he called The Bunker, which was where the wizard had learned much of his magic back in the day. He told them it contained no end of arcana and scrolls and ancient magical instruments—more even than what he had managed to gather in the fantastical basement of the Invisible Tower. It was from this location that Merlin would do his part to disrupt the lordess of Fenland.

  Artie readied the pommel but before he could open the moongate, Merlin said, “Wait! I have some things to hand out.” Merlin rummaged through his magical bag and pulled out three flat objects, each the size of a thin magazine.

  “Are those iPads?” Kay asked.

  “They are! Jailbreaked too!” Merlin said proudly, and then he mused, “Fascinating contraptions. I’ve kept one for myself, of course.” He gave the others to Artie, Kynder, and Bedevere. “Since my escape, Mr. Thumb has been working on a port of the Otherworld game and several very special apps.”

  “So, what, you want us to play Otherworld while we’re in the Otherworld?” Kay asked. “Isn’t that, like . . . redundant?”

  Erik rattled out a loud snore. Lance shifted him on his shoulder.

  “I don’t expect you to play it, although I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to during your downtime,” Merlin said jovially. “But it’s the apps that are important. There are atlases of both sides, and also an app with loads of information about each of the Seven Swords.”

  “And,” Thumb added proudly, “I’ve modified the tablets to link up with the Otherworld’s cellular network. So we’ll be able to video-chat!”

  Bedevere shook his head in wonderment. Kay said, “Far out.”

  As they put them away, Thumb clapped and said, “Well, lads, what do you think? Master Artie, shall we?”

  “Yeah, Tom, we shall.” Artie stepped into the middle of the circle. Kay took Kynder’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She was glad he was coming with them this time, even if they did have to leave him at the Library. Kynder squeezed back. He was glad too.

  Artie knelt and looked at his knights. Bedevere had donned his black suit of plate armor, minus the right arm. Lance sported his usual mix of commando and Robin Hood gear plus a thick down vest, his compound bow—decorated with American flags and screaming eagles—slung over his shoulder. Kynder was dressed like he was about to do some gardening, but since he was going to stay at the Library, that was just fine. Thumb was dressed casually in his little linen suit. Kay had on blue jeans and sneakers and a leather-and-ring-mail jerkin under a sweatshirt. Like Artie, she also wore one of the titanium-laced undershirts Merlin had given them over the summer. Artie was dressed almost exactly like his sister, plus he had his trusty buckler strapped to his left arm.

  Artie closed his eyes. He held out the pommel and said quietly but forcefully, “Lunae lumen.” A moongate swung open and engulfed them, leaving the game room in Shadyside, Pennsylvania, completely empty.

  After dropping Kynder and Merlin at the Library, the rest of the group moved on to the court-in-exile. Lance had spent so much time with Merlin and Thumb at the Invisible Tower back in Cincinnati that he took the wonders of the Otherworld in stride, dropping right into military grunt mode, ready for anything.

  But Erik, who they woke with a packet of smelling salts, was another story.

  All the weirdness left the newest knight in a state of shock.

  First, there was Bercilak. As the Green Knight ambled up to the party with his arms held out for a hug, Erik’s jaw dropped to the floor.

  “My good knights! How I’ve missed you!” Bercilak said.

  “Bercy!” Kay said, running to him. She embraced Bercilak and slapped him hard on the back, sending a loud sound reverberating through his bodiless suit of armor.

  “My lord! Sir Kay! Bedevere! I’ve taken fine care of your feline. And Mr. Thumb! How is the old gnome? And we’ve added an archer, I see!” Lance gave Bercilak a deep nod. “And who’s this? Another new knight, sire?”

  Artie walked over to Erik, who was sitting down, and whispered, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

  “To what?” Erik gasped. “The no-head thing?”

  “Yeah,” Artie confirmed. “And that he’s a little, well, wei
rd.”

  “You can say that again,” Erik said.

  Bercilak approached Erik and said, “Hallo! I am the Green Knight, the Empty Knight, Bercilak the Hollow! It is my esteemed pleasure to meet you, Sir . . .”

  Erik stared up at this walking, talking suit of green armor and said, “Uh, Erik?”

  “Uh-Erik! Fabulous! Tell me, are you related to Uh-Enmo? Or maybe Uh-Elring?”

  “Uh, no?” Erik said.

  “Uh-No? I’ve not met him.”

  “No, Bercy,” Artie explained. “He’s not related to any of those people. This is Erik. He’s from our side, and this is his first time here, so go easy on him, all right?”

  Bercilak took Erik’s hand and shook it. “Of course! Sorry for the confusion, Erik the New.”

  Erik looked at the empty space where Bercilak’s eyes would have been and said, “No problem, I guess.”

  “Good!” Bercilak dropped Erik’s hand and spun around. “Now—where is Wilt Chamberlain? The dragon is out by the stable and wants to parley with him.”

  “Dr-dragon?” Erik stammered.

  Lance said quietly, “Yeah, pretty cool, right? I can’t wait to meet one either.”

  Cool was not what Erik was thinking, since he had no desire to meet a dragon. None.

  Artie answered Bercilak, “Merlin—Wilt Chamberlain—is at the Library. He’s with Kynder.”

  Bercilak tilted in a way that clearly meant, “Who’s Kynder?”

  “Kynder’s our dad,” Kay explained.

  “I can parley with the dragon,” Thumb said. “He and I need to shove off for Leagon soon anyway.”

  Artie stepped forward. If he was really becoming a king, he’d better start acting like one. “And I can talk to him too, you know.”

  “Of course, sire,” Thumb said, bowing slightly.

  “Let’s to him then, shall we?” Bercilak boomed.

  Artie ushered a dazed Erik toward the door as the group followed the Green Knight to the stables, where sure enough there was a great green dragon sitting in the paddock.

  Artie and Kay ran to Tiberius, eager to greet him. Thumb took his time. He was still peeved about having been frozen in Tiberius’s rock breath on their last adventure. Lance was extremely impressed and let out a long whistle.

  But Erik Erikssen, too shocked to deal, passed out again.

  Bercilak caught him and eased him carefully to the ground. “I think this one is a little overwhelmed, sire!”

  Kay gave Erik a sympathetic look and said, “Honestly? I think he took that pretty well. What do you think, Tiberius?”

  “Hmmmmph,” the dragon replied.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Kay deadpanned.

  “Boy-king,” Tiberius sang. “You’re not armed. You should be armed.”

  It was true. Artie had Excalibur’s scabbard strapped to his back, and Carnwennan hung from his belt, but he did look a little light.

  “The dragon is right, my lord!” Bercilak exclaimed. “Strange things are afoot these past days. You should be more ready than you are.”

  “Care to help me pick out some new toys then, Bercilak?” Artie asked.

  “Of course! Maybe we can find something for Erik the New too.”

  Bercilak led Artie back in to peruse his weapon racks. Kay joined them while Lance stayed behind with Erik. Bedevere went into the stables and let out his saber-toothed tiger, which was very happy to see his old master. They cuddled for a while, and then the tiger and the dragon started playing. Erik momentarily came around, but when he saw Tiberius pinning a white saber-toothed tiger to the ground he promptly passed out again.

  A few minutes later Artie, Kay, and Bercilak emerged from the court, with Artie toting some new items.

  “Whatcha get from the treasure trove, dude?” Lance asked.

  “What’s the spear called again?” Artie asked Bercilak.

  “Rhongomyniad.”

  “Yeah, that,” Artie said to Lance. “I have to learn to say it really well, because after I throw it, I can call it by name and it will zip back to my hand!”

  “Cool!” Lance exclaimed.

  Bedevere pointed at a small, cutlass-shaped sword that hung opposite Carnwennan on Artie’s belt. “Is that Flixith, sire?”

  “Sure is,” Artie said.

  “What can it do?” Lance asked.

  “When he swings it around, it’ll make him look like he’s got four arms instead of two, which I guess is supposed to scare the cookies out of our enemies,” Artie explained.

  “Good,” Thumb said seriously. “We have much work to do.”

  Artie nodded in agreement and motioned for everyone to circle up near Tiberius. Lance carried Erik, who was coming back around again and moaning.

  “Well, Tiberius? What’s new in the Otherworld?” Artie asked.

  Tiberius slowly blinked his magnificent, rainbow-colored eyes. “Hmmph,” the dragon said. “The wizard’s play was ill-conceived. He shouldn’t’ve gone to Fenland. It has unsettled things more’n necessary. The witch’s agents are on the hunt. She’s unhappy. If Lord Numinae were well, I’d be more at ease.”

  “How is Numinae?” Artie asked.

  “Hmmmph. Lord Numinae is better’n. He’ll get back soon, in one form or another.” No one bothered to ask what he meant by that. Erik, awake now, looked on silently.

  “And Cassie?” Kay asked. She hadn’t mentioned Cassie to anyone in the last few weeks, but she really wanted to know how—and where—her mom was.

  “She is safe’n but not well. Her mind was poisoned fully by the witch. Lord Numinae will help her, young Kay, but some time will pass’n afore you see her again.” Tiberius turned one of his long ears toward the woods beyond the stables. “Tell me, boy-king—can you call’n the wizard here?”

  “Now?”

  “Hmmph, now. He might be useful.”

  “I don’t underst—”

  Artie was cut short as a sound like a revving chain saw echoed through the surrounding trees. Bedevere’s cat jumped up and eyed the woods.

  “What was that, Tiberius?” Thumb asked, slightly alarmed.

  “Hmmph. The witch’s agents are on the hunt.”

  The buzzing resumed, and the trees to the east danced before being shredded to bits as a swarm of giant dragonflies burst through them.

  Artie and his crew were surrounded in an instant. A rainbow of insects—hundreds of them, each around four feet long—blanketed the stable yard. Kay, Bedevere, Lance, and Thumb drew their weapons and swung or shot at them wildly. Kay had a lot of trouble getting close to any on account of Cleomede’s special bug-repelling magic, but she still managed to down a few. Meanwhile, Bercilak leaped into action, hewing dragonflies with his double-edged ax. Lance managed to nock and shoot several arrows before resorting to using his bow as a hand weapon, swinging it around in wide arcs. Artie threw his spear directly overhead and impaled three dragonflies at once. He called it and it returned to him like a boomerang, driving into the ground at his feet. He drew Carnwennan and Flixith, pirouetting and flailing at the air. Flixith did indeed make it look like Artie had four arms, and at times even more, like a Hindu god. But the bugs didn’t care.

  They were bugs.

  Their paperlike wings beat the knights on all sides, and the spiky barbs of their legs cut and scraped their skin.

  The saber-toothed tiger killed so many dragonflies with such eager playfulness that, as far as it was concerned, the whole attack was a game.

  Tiberius rose into the air, taking special care to protect Artie and Kay and Erik, the last of whom remained unarmed. The dragon used his long body to swat hordes of insects back into the woods and sprayed his acrid, crinkly breath selectively here and there, causing many bugs to fall to the ground half-encased in the dragon’s black rock. These semi-frozen bugs buzzed and whined, and the desperate flapping of their wings grated on the ear.

  But Tiberius remained calm. He didn’t find the swarm to be incomprehensible or even much of a bother. He could see exa
ctly how many insects there were, and while there were quite a few, the number wasn’t unmanageable. They were only giant dragonflies, after all.

  He swatted several more and saw that 518 were still alive and uninjured.

  He looked down. Artie was a blur of arms. Dragonfly heads rolled at his feet.

  Make that 514.

  For all the expansive wonder of Tiberius’s perception, though, he couldn’t see everything. And at this particular moment he couldn’t see that Erik Erikssen was being lifted by his shoulders into the air.

  In fact no one noticed. But then Lance caught sight of Erik from the corner of his eye. “Artie, look!” Lance barked.

  Erik was twenty feet above them. He was struck dumb with fear, but his face said it all.

  “Lance!” Artie yelled.

  “On it, dude!” replied Lance.

  Lance let an arrow fly. It hit the dragonfly carrying Erik square in the eye.

  The bug dropped him, and Erik’s eyes bulged and his legs bicycled in the air. He seemed to be going a little crazy as he fell, his landing softened by a tall haystack. Fifty or sixty dragonflies swarmed to it immediately.

  “Kay, come with me!” Artie said, and together they made their way toward the haystack.

  But then it exploded. Half the dragonflies surrounding it were thrown off, while the other half darted up and around, jockeying for position as they tried to find a way to strike at Erik.

  Or was that Erik? It was hard to tell. In place of the boy was a violent blur. A violent blur that had found something at the bottom of the haystack. Something that looked like a hammer.

  “He’s gone nuts!” Kay observed.

  Erik felled the dragonflies so quickly, in every direction, that they couldn’t even touch him, let alone pick him up again.

  Finally, after Erik had killed or maimed dozens of insects, they beat a retreat. Just as quickly as they’d arrived, the dragonflies regrouped and took to the sky.

  The knights stared at Erik. His eyes were red with fury; his head whipped in every direction, looking for something to strike. It was like he was a cartoon character bursting with rage; Artie fully expected steam to spout from his ears.