“Some of us have always been old at heart.” Ari thought of Gwen who was queen at sixteen, married at eighteen, pregnant by nineteen. All on purpose. “I’ve put up with a lot since I arrived on this stupid planet, but if it’s turned my lovely Lam morose, I’ll never forgive it.”
“Not morose. Philosophical. We can only do so much with the time we’re given.” They motioned to the small kid who trailed Lam like a puppy. He held up a pail of water. Ari shook her head, and he put it down sadly. “And these people aren’t given much time at all.”
“I won’t give them a pass for forcing us into genders that aren’t ours. Or thinking my vagina is a demon curse.”
“Hell, no.” Lam put their wrist on Ari’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t ask that. But see, there’s Roran over there, always watching. He’s trans. But he doesn’t know that word or that there are so many more like him. Or that one day someone like him won’t be stuffed into a dress, made to feel like he’s come out all wrong.”
Ari examined her sword. Lamarack had never spoken like this before, fear and anger wrestling in their tone despite their soft words. “Does he have family? Friends?”
“He has me,” Lam said.
“And how are you doing with the constant misgendering?” Ari shut her eyes tight. “It’s breaking me.” Her body had been a liability ever since she’d crashed into this time period, needing to be a man to have any semblance of power. The constant fear of being found out was cresting toward body shame, which left her longing for Gwen. To feel her touch. To remember that they were glorious when they were naked together. Two girls burning like stars.
“The misgendering motherfucking sucks.” Lamarack touched Ari’s chin, bringing her out of her breath-held place of need. “But I did get to give Roran hope—which fills me with joy.”
Ari had the weird thought that Lam was falling for this place. She threw down a rag that she’d been using, brandishing a newly shiny sword and pressing her mind back to the fight. “After the melee, you’ll be knighted. It’s in Jordan’s book. Both you and Val become Arthur’s trusted knights.”
“I suppose that’s evidence that he’ll return soon.”
“He will.” Ari took her first position again. Lam chose their stance as well. “You don’t want to do that. Well, it’s a smart decision against me because we’re a similar height, but for most opponents, your height is going to win for you. Always use it. Start high. Apparently humans aren’t going to evolve above six feet for a few hundred years.” They crossed blades, and she unarmed Lam swiftly. They groaned and sat down. “Lancelot needs you in fighting shape.”
“And Lamarack needs you to be Ari.”
Ari didn’t like how close Lam was to the shifting ground of her identity. “I can’t wait to be me again, back on Error, with a big bag of Kay’s favorite chips in one hand and my love in the other.” She closed her eyes, knowing what Lam meant even if she didn’t want to. “Until then, Merlin is right. Gwen is right. I have to go all in. Make this real. I am Lancelot.”
“We cannot check our identities until they’re desired. That way lies grief and regret.”
Ari itched to pick up the sword again, to distract herself with a fight. Fights she could win; discussions about how painful it felt to be stuck in a man’s life were losing ground. “For months, I told myself I only had to get here. For Gwen, Merlin, the baby. You.” Ari pulled at her short hair, missing her long braid. “Now I’m here and there’s so much more to do.” She sighed. “Arthur’s celebration is in a couple of weeks. The enchantresses will come. Just a few weeks.”
“Do you think… can Lancelot leave without changing the future?” they asked. Ari scowled hard. “Ara, this story, this king and his people, I can’t fight the feeling that we need to be here, not run home with that chalice at the first chance. We can help them do better.”
“But we have a whole future to save, Lam.”
“Perhaps the past has something to do with that.”
She hung her head. “Please don’t. I can only save one world at a time.”
“You’re Ara Azar.” Lam cupped her cheek softly. “You’ve already come to the aid of whole galaxies. Should be old hat by now. Kay would be damn proud of you.”
Ari had been burying thoughts of Kay since his death. There was an unevenness to remembering him, as if her anger had folded into her grief and turned the ground soft, treacherous. “What would Kay do if he were here?”
“Oh, he’d be toasted,” Lam said, and Ari barked a surprise laugh. “Just permanently mead-drunk. And let’s be honest, even though he’s the preferred gender of this hostile island, he’d fit in the least well of all of us. Stomping around with that silver space rat hair, telling stories about grand things like cargo shorts and high fructose corn syrup.”
Ari’s laugh rolled. When was the last time that’d happened? “That hair was red when we were kids, before the gray. Remember all the firehead jokes at knight camp?”
“’Course.” Lam’s best smile was out. The one that lilted to the side and showed off their perfect teeth. “And if Kay knew how serious you’d become, he’d do this.”
Lam tackled her, wrestling across the hard-packed ground. Ari kicked her long legs and used the momentum to flip Lam. Unlike her fights with Kay, when she occasionally let him get an upper hand, Lam was her equal in length and strength. They tossed into the side of the stable as one,
