“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” Artie said, watching Bors intently.
The mute fairy stood his ground and did a little jumping-jack as a pair of bears turned and headed directly for him. His scentwall moved away from him and missed the two charging bear riders, but it hit the larger groups on either side. Ten from each flank came to a grinding and delirious halt. The bears fell heads-and-shoulders into the ground and sent up showers of sand, a few skidding to a stop not ten feet from Artie and the knights.
They and their riders were enthralled and utterly useless.
Artie watched the two bears that were barreling toward Bors, his heart pounding. The fairy was going to get hit. But then, just before the bears reached him, Bors spun in a tight circle and completely disappeared. One of the bears spooked and changed course, crashing sidelong into the other and throwing both of their riders a dozen feet onto the beach. The sound of shattering necks was horrendous.
Twenty riders who’d avoided the scentwall pulled up, flanking the knights. The bears snorted and growled. The riders shouted as some shouldered their crossbows and began to fire. Kay deflected a couple bolts with Cleomede; Shallot—who was insanely quick—simply dodged them. Artie blocked one with Flixith, but another hit him in the back and knocked him to his knees. The graphene shirt stopped it from penetrating his body, but it still hurt like crazy. Excalibur’s empty scabbard took care of whatever bruise it left, though, and he quickly got up.
The sky boomed overhead. The purple dragon, still hidden in the clouds, screamed. A woman’s voice came from above, reminding the soldiers, “Don’t kill the boy!”
At which point the riders dropped their crossbows and drew swords.
The bears on the right charged. The ones on the left broke off to attack Lance, Erik, and Qwon near the petrified bodies of Kynder and Tiberius. Erik launched into berserker mode as Fallown, down the beach, broke toward them to help.
Within seconds Artie, Kay, Thumb, and Shallot were surrounded by bears. And up close they were scary big. The knights formed a circle, each taking a quadrant. A few beats passed before a paw as big as a dinner plate swiped at Kay; she flashed Cleomede and took it off cleanly. But the bear didn’t care. It planted its stump in the ground and leaned forward, baring its teeth. With one swipe, Kay sliced through the bear’s jaw, swept her blade up, and cut the rider’s sword in two.
“Ha!” she blurted.
But she didn’t see the bear’s other paw coming.
It hit her across the shoulder, which lit up in pain. As with Artie, her graphene shirt prevented the bear from drawing blood, but it knocked her over big-time.
Meanwhile, Shallot put up a scentlock that quelled the bear in front of her, but because of the angle of attack, not its rider. This man was fast and tall and armed with a long halberd. He stood in his saddle and brought the point of his weapon down on Shallot, jabbing wildly as she sidestepped the attacks with her amazing speed. The soldier was about to land a good hit to her midsection when she suddenly disappeared, just like Bors. The soldier stabbed at the air and looked around confusedly before Shallot reappeared directly in front of him atop the bear, straddling his weapon. Quickly and mercilessly she brought down two of her short, wavy fairy blades and hit the soldier in the neck.
She looked to Kay, who was trying to get up after being knocked down, and jumped over to help her.
Meanwhile Thumb was going crazy, battling a bear and rider of his own. He bounced all over the place, scoring several quick, deep cuts in the bear’s forelegs. He worked his way onto the animal’s back, and before the rider knew it, she was defending herself against the smallest warrior she’d ever seen. The bear turned a tight circle as the rider parried Thumb’s furious attacks. For a few moments the soldier held her own, but then Thumb sailed into the air. The rider twisted in her saddle, but it was too late. The Welsh wakizashi had already found its way into her back, and was being driven painfully into her kidney.
Another down.
Artie was dealing with two bears simultaneously. The riders on these each had one of those silver whips and they were trying to get one around Artie so they could take him prisoner. Artie quickly realized that his spear wasn’t helping because it put too much distance between him and the bears—distance that the soldiers could use to wrangle him with their whips.
He was about to throw the spear at one of the riders when he saw that Kay was still on the ground. Shallot was already sailing to Kay’s aid, but the rider over Kay was about bring what was left of his sword through the top of Kay’s head.
Artie threw his spear at Kay’s assailant, taking his sword arm clean off. The soldier cried out in pain as Shallot finished him off.
Artie turned back to his bears only to see the tasseled end of a whip flying at his face. He ducked under it and slid beneath the bear in front of him. He drew Carnwennan from his belt and drove it into the bear’s musky belly. Before it could fall on him, he scampered away between its hind legs, and severed a tendon behind its knee.
The bear collapsed and wailed.
Artie stood and surveyed the field. Lightning illuminated the beach like a strobe light. The witch and the wizard—still shrouded by the clouds overhead—were really going at it. Fallown was near the other knights, dispatching bears and riders with diving attacks. Numinae was still on the golden dragon’s neck, knocking heads with his giant maul arm. Lance and Erik—and Qwon too, her blade trailing blue streaks as it danced through the air—were holding their ground.
They were doing all right.
Artie tried to empty his mind and concentrate on his sword. Where is Excalibur?
A bear jumped in front of him, breaking his concentration. He raked Flixith across its wet nose. It roared, and then, before he knew it, a whip was around his neck.
Artie flailed at the cord as it snaked around him. He twisted to try to get a better angle to cut it, but only succeeded in wrapping himself up some more.
Then another whip caught him around a foot. This one was yanked hard, and he fell to the ground. Flixith went flying. He tried to cut his way free with Carnwennan but before he could get started, his arm was lashed to his side.
He found himself staring up at the sky, rain falling directly into his squinting eyes. Another great boom rattled the clouds and then, to his dismay, he saw Merlin falling through the air, looking seriously unconscious or possibly dead. But before he hit the ground, he turned into a column of mist, and this quickly morphed into the shape of an owl. The diaphanous bird squawked and then flew into the fog that blanketed the sea, beating a fast retreat.
The wizard had left the fight, and despite Artie’s confusion about Merlin, his heart sank.
Scarm broke hard through the clouds, water streaming from her great feathered wings. Morgaine jumped from her perch and stopped in midair, her hands held up as lightning bolted from the storm and gathered in her palms.
From the corner of his eye, Artie saw the purple dragon attack the golden one. Numinae jumped to safety as Scarm coated Fallown in scalding oil, the golden dragon wailing in agony before falling silent.
Morgaine then peppered the beach with some kind of rapid-fire magic, each strike making a noise like an electric shock. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Artie used all his strength to crane his neck around and saw that each of his knights, and Kynder’s stone, had been caught in some kind of glass-like bubble. The rain gathered in sheets on these, coating them. An unarmed Lance and an armed and defiant Qwon were together; Kay, Thumb, and Shallot were yelling from their individual bubbles, but no sound escaped the floating prisons; Erik bounced around his like a pinball, still fully raged up.
They were not doing all right. The fight was over. They had lost.
Even Numinae had been captured. He was strong and determined enough to break out of his bubble, but Morgaine just kept launching new ones in his direction.
Artie had failed.
Morgaine lowered herself as Artie was dragged roughly along the sand. More archers jogge
d down the beach, and two more bear riders, who had not partaken in the fight, trotted easily behind them at a distance.
Artie’s spirits rose slightly as he realized that it was one of these who held Excalibur. But how was he going to get it?
Scarm glided softly to the ground. She shook off the rainwater like a drenched dog before striking a proud and victorious pose. She was riveting, both terrible and awe-inspiring, just like Morgaine’s tornadoes had been. The dragon cocked her head and looked at Artie as if she couldn’t see why this boy was worth so much trouble.
Morgaine moved her hands through the air, and the bubbles containing his friends drifted together. It was at this moment that Artie realized that Bors hadn’t been caught! There was still a sliver of hope.
Artie locked eyes with Morgaine and asked, “What are those things around my friends?”
“Dragon’s bubbles,” Morgaine said with a kindly voice. “No way in or out, I’m afraid.”
Artie was hoisted to his feet by an invisible hand. He was drenched and cold. He was frightened, but he composed himself and said, “You’re not that scary-looking up close.”
Morgaine pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “What, even in my warrior dress?”
“Yeah, you kind of look like a mom.”
“Oh, I’m glad you noticed, dear.”
She shot another bubble at Numinae, who didn’t pause in trying to escape. He was livid.
What was left of the bear soldiers had taken positions behind Scarm. The pair of officers protecting Excalibur were all the way at the back.
How was he going to get his sword from them?
And where was Bors? Where were Lance’s bow and quiver?
“You aren’t very scary-looking either, Arthur Pen-dragon. You look exactly like I knew you would,” she said snidely.
“What are you going to do with us?” Artie asked, his voice shaking with anger.
“Unfortunately I have to keep you,” Morgaine said with a sigh.
“And my knights?”
The witch went wide-eyed and began to giggle, which quickly turned into a full-throated belly laugh. Tears came to her eyes and she turned to Scarm, who was also chuckling. “Knights! How . . . medieval.”
The dragon nodded.
Morgaine shot another bubble at Numinae.
“Your ‘knights’ are completely expendable, now that I have you. They won’t leave this beach alive.”
“Why haven’t you already killed them, then?” Artie asked coolly.
The witch respected his calm. “Some of them hold things I need. Can’t risk destroying them in the process.”
“The Seven Swords?” Artie guessed.
“Yes, but by my count only four remain with you. I have the others.”
“Yeah, I know.”
She launched yet another bubble at Numinae.
Artie asked, “And what about the wizard? Why did he run?”
“We’ll talk about that later, dear.”
“Stop calling me dear.”
“Oh, come now, dear!” Morgaine mocked, looking at the dragon again. Even some of the soldiers laughed, though their laughs seemed disingenuous. “You fought well today, truly, but there is no hope now. Sorry, child.”
Something about the way she said “child” made Artie’s skin crawl. He couldn’t bear to look at her anymore and cast his gaze to the dunes in the distance. Where is Bors? Maybe the fairy also knew that one of those soldiers at the back had Excalibur. Maybe Bors was going to lift it from him and deliver it to Artie!
Hoping to see some sign of the missing fairy, Artie eyed the officers at the back. The smaller one wore a simple helmet that obscured his face. The bigger one reached up and pulled his own helmet from his head and looked straight at Artie.
Artie couldn’t believe it. It was Sami!
Artie forced himself to remain expressionless, but his heart and mind raced as he watched the smaller officer unsheathe Excalibur. Even without any sunlight, the blade glinted at Artie like it was winking at him. They were so close to being reunited.
Carefully the smaller soldier handed Excalibur to Sami, who nodded meaningfully to Artie. Artie could tell that the superstrong Swede was only waiting for a signal and then he would hurl Excalibur to him.
Artie looked at Morgaine. “It was foolish of you to bring Excalibur with you, Lordess Morgaine.”
She furrowed her brow and asked, “What? I’m not that stupid, child.”
She didn’t know. The door called hope was flung wide! “You can’t feel it, then?” Artie asked.
“Of course not, because it’s not here,” the witch foolishly insisted.
Artie smiled ever so slightly. “Interesting. I guess you’re not as powerful as you think you are.”
32 - IN WHICH ARTIE AND EXCALIBUR ARE REUNITED, AND WHAT ENSUES
The sword sailed through the air in a tall arc, and time slowed for Artie.
A lot.
It was like when he’d gotten Excalibur from the Lake—but there was more to it. It wasn’t just time that had changed, but awareness. For a few moments he knew everything that was going on in precise detail.
There were exactly seventeen archers left, and twelve riders, and fifteen bears. Morgaine had fifteen metal cuffs on each forearm. There were twenty-three gulls skirting the water’s surface off the beach. The bear closest to him, which was the biggest, had one eye. Artie’s knights had killed or injured seventy-eight riders, seventy-five bears, and fifty-five archers. Excalibur had flipped thirty-two times. Morgaine had cast five dragon’s bubbles on Numinae.
The forest lord had just burst his current bubble and its skin was peeling back in slow motion, and Morgaine was preparing to cast another.
Sami was jumping off his bear, getting ready to take out the remaining archers, while the guy next to him had taken off his helmet.
Mordred.
Kynder had been right. Mordred was not his enemy. He was not his enemy because Artie knew with dead certainty that he was his brother.
Artie’s heart swelled. The sword was right in front of him now. It had stopped spinning and was coming point down for his body. Artie breathed in, making himself as thin as possible. Excalibur couldn’t cut him, he knew, but he needed to make room for his weapon between the whips and his body. Effortlessly it slid between the coiled strands, twisted, and the magical silver whips fell to pieces.
In a fluid motion, Artie sheathed the dagger Carnwennan, reached up and caught Excalibur, pulled out the pommel, and placed it on his sword’s hilt. The sword glowed so bright that Artie had to shut his eyes, but even with his eyes closed, he knew exactly where everyone and everything was.
Including Bors, who was down the beach to his left and armed with Lance’s bow and arrows! And including The Anguish and the Peace Sword, which were safe with Mordred and Sami. All Seven Swords were there!
Artie held Excalibur one-handed and called Rhon-gomyniad. The spear jumped up and flew to his hand. Then Artie yelled, “More light!” and a blinding shock wave burst from Excalibur’s blade. In its wake, time ramped back up, resuming its usual pace.
Morgaine screamed, full of wrath and terror. She, along with the bears, soldiers, archers, and Scarm, were momentarily blinded by the ancient sword’s light, while Artie’s friends were unaffected.
Numinae, free from his dragon’s bubble, conjured millions of tiny slivers of wood and let them fly at Morgaine. Bors, visible now, let one of the limitless arrows Merlin had gifted Lance fly at the witch. Artie hurled his spear.
Each of these attacks arrived at the same time from a different angle. Morgaine managed to deflect the spear, though its shaft smacked hard into her head; the arrow drove through her back; and the Sylvan lord’s magical splinters swarmed her like a hive of angered bees. Stricken, she fell to the ground, unconscious.
Morgaine’s soldiers went wild in their confusion, and Numinae took advantage, bursting the dragon’s bubbles of the other knights. Bors ran in their direction, firing at will at t
he riders. He wasn’t as accurate as Lance, but he was still pretty good.
Sami was in the back, knocking the heads of the archers together like he was in a cartoon. He moved quickly, and the archers didn’t have a chance.
Mordred spurred his war bear and was hurtling toward his brother. It was pretty surreal to watch. Artie thought this kid—who was slightly bigger but otherwise his exact double—looked a lot more heroic than he ever did, but what did he know.
Excalibur hummed, alerting Artie to an incoming crossbow volley. He whisked his blade through the air, slicing the bolt to pieces. He looked at the rider who’d shot it and shook his head.
Not smart, dude.
Artie sprang forward. Having Excalibur back felt so good.
The knights, free from the dragon’s bubbles, engaged what was left of Morgaine’s forces.
As Mordred’s bear sailed past Shallot, Artie’s twin threw a long, strange-looking weapon to the fairy. She saw it instantly, vaulted over a soldier, and caught it in midair. Then she did some things Artie had never seen before. Shallot, armed with her birthright, was a terror. She flew through the field of battle contorting her long body around The Anguish, twisting and tumbling, stretching in all directions, and meting out severe punishment. The fighting was fierce but lopsided, especially once Sami drew into their circle. When he came close, he nodded at Artie, and Artie, beaming proudly, nodded back.
Kay arrived at Artie’s side as Mordred’s bear skidded to a stop in front of them.
“Arthur,” Mordred said.
“Mordred,” Artie returned.
“Holy mirror image, Batman!” Kay squealed.
The brothers ignored Kay. They were too entranced with each other. “Nice to see you, Brother. But call me Dred.”
“And call me Artie.” They shared a knowing smile as the sound of clanging metal and moaning bears echoed across the beach.
“So you’re the Peace Sword guy, huh?” Kay asked as Dred smiled at her.
But then the Fenlandian dragon rose behind him. How had they forgotten about Scarm?
The Seven Swords Page 22