“Up to the tower at once,” Old Merlin said, complete with impatient snapping. “No more dusting the prophetic orbs for you. We have bigger work to do.”
Under any other circumstances, Merlin would have said no. And possibly left the castle screaming. But right now, he was desperate enough to work with the very last person he would have chosen in any era, sociopathic dictators notwithstanding.
If he was going to break Nin’s cycle, he needed complete control of his magic. Starting with his age. This time and place had always terrified him—but what if it held the answers he’d always sought? What if facing it was the only way to find them?
“Kairos,” Old Merlin muttered. The tower door opened on its magical hinge, the stairs looming above them.
Merlin took a deep breath and said, “I guess it’s you and me, old man.”
Ari awoke to a bucket of water being dumped on her head. Her neck felt terrible. Her back felt terrible. The evening sun beating down on her felt, well, terrible.
She was in the stocks, head and wrists locked into worn, soft wood.
“What happened?” she asked, unable to look up, trying to figure out if what she was looking at were in fact Val’s feet.
Val’s voice floated down. “You are no longer Camelot’s favorite knight, that’s what. Hope this was your plan.”
“Not exactly.”
He began to pull back the mechanism that kept the wood clamped. “The good news is that your sentence has been served. One night and day in the stocks for impertinence toward the queen.”
“Impertinence? That all?”
“I believe Arthur is covering for you. Even in his jealousy.” Val helped her stand up, which was important because her body was stiff and her muscles felt like cement. “Tell me, did you and Gwen plan this or did you just whip out your sheer animalistic urges for one another in front of that poor young royal?”
“Worse,” Ari grumbled. “I told her I loved her and we got all moony.”
Val whistled. “That is worse.” He led them toward the stable where Lam worked.
All was quiet in Camelot, and it left Ari feeling ill at ease. “Hang on a sec. I need to stretch.” She stood on her own and leaned her chin way up while pulling her arms back. “That’s better.” Ari took in Val’s sensational indigo corset and the kohl around his eyes. It was an absolute relief to see at least one of them dressed as themselves. “You look good.”
“Keeps the commoners out of my way,” he said. “Call it demiboy superpowers. Come on. We’ve got to figure out what in the hell to do next.”
Ari couldn’t agree more. They were about to round the corner toward the stable door when a dagger pointed hard into a notch at the side of her armor.
“State your purpose,” young Roran said, shoulders thrown back and glaring mightily. The fact that the kid was half Ari’s height didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
“I’m here for Lamarack,” Ari said, hoping this kid wasn’t on Arthur’s payroll, and that the people didn’t yet know that crowd-favorite Lancelot was persona non grata.
Roran shoved his dagger in his belt. “They’re meeting. I’m keeping watch.”
“Ah, thanks.” Ari slid down from where she’d been pressed up against the door by Roran’s rather sincere blade. He took up a post in the shadows like a tiny palace guard. Val chuckled and opened the door.
They ducked inside, shutting the huge door behind them. Ari turned to find half a dozen people looking at her in utter alarm. They were all commoners, mostly muddy and dirty—but there was at least one familiar pink dress in the bunch.
“Um, what’s up, Elaine?” Ari said, feeling red. What was going on here?
Lam got to their feet from where they’d been speaking to the small crowd and beckoned Ari and Val to the back, telling everyone to talk to each other in their most relaxed tone. “Remember, you’re all united in your beliefs,” they added gently.
When they had ducked behind an enormous stallion, Lam hugged her. “You all right? We heard about Sir Kay knocking the shit out of you. Gwen was pissed.”
“I’m fine. Did it work? Did the page come back in the MercersNotes?”
Lamarack nodded, but Ari could tell there was more. “Then some other stuff went blank.”
Ari groaned.
Val scowled. “We win the battles but we’re losing the war, people. Why am I the only one to see that this is pure reactive and not at all proactive?”
“Hang on. I’ll wrap up the meeting,” Lam said. The voices in the stable rose with excitement when Lam returned to them.
While they filed out, Ari asked Val the question she already knew the answer to simply because it hadn’t come up otherwise. “Chalice?”
Val shook his head.
The stable was quiet when the people were gone, and only the sounds of shuffling horses could be heard. Ari took some of her armor off, stretching her back. “Tell me you haven’t started a religion, Lam.”
“In a manner of speaking,” Lam said. They were being shifty. Why?
“What’s going on? Roran’s willing to stab someone for coming in uninvited, and you’re preaching… what exactly?”
Lam laughed. “Kindness, mostly. And acceptance. For all kinds of people.”
“My gods, you’re just… You make us all look so scrubby.” Ari found herself smiling, shaking her head. Lamarack’s grin glowed. “Okay, but don’t get attached to this little cultural revolution. I need you back in the future beside me.”
“They’ll be much better equipped soon. Some of them are already using my pronouns.”
“Leave it to my sibling to start humanity’s first GSA.” Val was undoubtedly pleased, giving Lamarack a smirk of pure admiration.
Lam pulled out the MercersNotes from a small leather bag hanging from their belt and pressed it into Ari’s hand. Ari sighed with exasperation as she found the Lancelot-Arthur-Gweneviere love triangle back, but a new chapter blank. “What was here?”
“Knights of the
