Arthur pointed to where a woman parted the mist, stepping along the dark water as if it were black glass. Her bare feet were brown, a shade darker than Ari’s own skin, and the tips of her dark hair swirled around her bare legs. She wore the same slip of a dress that Morgana had in her ethereal form, only this one was tangible.
“I’m… My name is Arthur,” Arthur said. “I’m from—”
“We know the boy who would be king,” the woman said, stopping on the surface and staring them down with dark, fathomless eyes. “I thought that might have been obvious based on our episodic attacks.”
“Yes, I just thought it’d be polite to introduce myself.” Arthur had surprised the enchantress. She lifted her chin.
“We watch your kingdom expand with growing impatience for your games.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Arthur looked to Ari for help, and she leaned back. “To ask for your aid, your blessing to my people. To build a union between us.”
“Interesting.” The enchantress stared at Ari briefly. “Your name we cannot know, can we? It does not belong here.” The implication was that she knew Ari was not from Camelot, or even this era. She turned back to Arthur. “I am Morgause. I…”
Ari’s attention rushed toward the sudden reappearance of Ghost Kay. He stepped out from behind Morgause and walked around the outer edge of the boat. He was so close that if Ari stood they’d be eye to eye, and she felt Arthur’s hand on her elbow again. “Don’t forget to invite them to the celebration,” she said distractedly. “And tell them to bring a present.”
“Lancelot?”
Ghost Kay smirked and beckoned toward the shining black water.
And Ari dove in.
Ari knew this wasn’t her brother; Kay was lost forever. This was one of the Lady of the Lake’s tricks. But Ari also knew that if she found Nin, she’d find Val. The cold teeth of the water bit into her muscles but she swam deeper until a sudden undertow dragged her down, down, down.
Merciless pressure squeezed her starved lungs. She kept her mouth tight, her eyes peering into the black depth until it began to prick with crystal stars. When she could not stop herself from trying to breathe any longer, she gasped, and metallic-flavored oxygen filled her lungs—the same scent that permeated Error, from the copper lines that filtered bacteria from the recycled air. Her head jerked as she glanced across Error’s control board.
“Good. You’re up. I’ve got to take a whiz.”
Ari looked over in slow motion at Kay. Not a ghost but her actual brother. He unstrapped from the captain’s chair and ambled toward the door, tweaking her ear on his way by as if to prove that he had a body—and toilet urges to boot. How realistically charming. “I’m dreaming,” she said, half expecting her mouth to fill with icy, black water.
It didn’t.
She touched her chest, held tight in the cross of her seat’s harness. She picked up one of Kay’s tortilla chip wrappers lying on the finger-smudged console and devoured the foil’s crinkling sound. Her hair was long again. She could feel the braid resting on her neck.
“This is a cruel game,” Ari managed. “Lady of the Lake?” she called out.
Ari heard nothing but her own breath. She pinched herself so hard she yelled.
Ari unstrapped her chest belt and unlocked her magboots, savoring the heavy knock of her soles releasing from the grated floor, the gravity light and easy. Ari was home, on Error, with Kay. How could this be real?
She stepped through the cockpit to the main cabin, running smack into Kay’s chest. She latched on, hugging him so hard that he squirmed.
“Dude, Ari. What are you doing?”
“How am I here? When is this? What is this?”
“I think you had a bad dream.” Kay wasn’t starved like he’d been during their last days. He was rounded and relaxed and smelled like a too-concentrated version of himself. “The fuck,” he said. “Did you just sniff me?”
“You even smell like Kay. This is so wrong.”
“You don’t smell great yourself, you know that?” Kay leaned against the jutting corner of two walls, scratching between his shoulder blades, making an unsatisfied face. He exhaled as if he’d made an incredibly hard decision. “Okay, fine. You can come on board Heritage with me.”
“Kay…”
“You’ve never seen it before, and you’ve been on Error for almost six months. We’ll be careful and you won’t press any Mercer panic buttons for shits and giggles. Promise you won’t.”
Ari couldn’t find any words. It wasn’t her brother or the ship now that was throwing her. It was the time stamp. Holy shit, she was back at the beginning. The day she found Excalibur.
“I suppose you want me to wear your old rubber knight’s costume?”
“I thought you could wear Mom’s Mercer forces uniform, but wait, the knight’s costume is a way better idea.” Kay popped open one of the lesser used storage panels, and the knight suit tumbled out. “You can hang out in this dusty old museum wing. No one is ever there except for Lionel nerds.” While Ari stared at the suit, Kay tried to scratch his back with the edge of the storage compartment’s metal door, whining dismally as he couldn’t get the exact spot.
“Oh, good grief, come here,” Ari said, beckoning.
Her brother leaped over the space between them in a single bound, too much satisfaction in his grin while he hunched before her and she scratched that one shoulder blade spot Kay always needed scratching. Her hand slowed after a minute, and she pressed her palm on his back, relieved by the ever-familiar—and yet so lost—sensation of his worn T-shirt, his soft skin.
“Moms would want you to get off ship sometimes.” His voice was gruff with rocky feelings. “Even with how dangerous it is. No one can stay lost out here between the stars. That’s what they’d say.”
He spoke of their parents as if he’d already buried them. Ari had
