Page 36 of The Sword & the Stone

“Damn it all!” I roared, slamming my fist against a nearby tree. The bark cracked beneath the impact, pain shooting up my arm. But I welcomed it. I deserved far worse.

I released Lancelot, and he immediately started pulling off his heavy clothing and preparing to leap into the water. “I’m going, with or without you.”

I snarled, knowing he was right. There was no choice but to go after her. I followed Lance’s lead, then shucked my boots and shirt, discarding them on the riverbank, prepared to follow her to the depths.

Then, without warning, the water erupted. My heart stuttered, then thundered back to life as a familiar chestnut head broke the surface. Arthur emerged like a vengeful goddess, Excalibur raised high, its blade gleaming with a golden radiance. She was no longer wearing her leather clothing, but rather a water soaked white dress that left very little to the imagination.

Staggering relief crashed over me. We surged toward her, not giving a damn as the frigid water soaked us to the bone.

Arthur staggered toward us, coughing and sputtering. I reached her first, catching her just as her knees buckled. Excalibur toppled to the riverbank, the glow fading, but Lancelot caught it.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured, pulling her close.

She was trembling, skin icy against mine. I scooped her up, cradling her against my chest as I carried her toward the shore. Lancelot was right behind me, hands hovering, desperate to touch her.

The cloak I grabbed was woefully inadequate to warm her. She looked so fragile in that moment, like a drowned kitten. It made something ache deep in my chest.

"Here, this should help," Lancelot murmured, conjuring a flickering flame in his palm. He held it close to Arthur's face, letting the heat seep into her pale skin.

Just then, a rumble of thunder boomed overhead as shadows drew in. A storm was about to hit us fast and hard.

A whimper escaped her blue-tinged lips, and she curled into me, seeking out any scrap of warmth. I held her tighter, trying to will the heat from my body into hers. Worry gnawed at my gut. She'd been down there so long. Too long.

"We need to get her out of those wet clothes," I said gruffly, my voice rawer than I would have liked. "And find better shelter for the night."

Lancelot met my gaze, golden eyes filled with the same fear that gripped me. He gave a quick nod.

“The others…” Arthur croaked, trying to lift her head.

I coaxed her back down, shushing her softly. “They’ll be alright. Three fae knights and a sorcerer are well equipped to handle a portal.”

“Is that what that was?” she asked, her eyes searching mine as she blinked the water from them rapidly.

I gave a grim nod. "Aye, portals exist all over, especially when a quest is underway. They're drawn to the magic." My lips twisted wryly as I adjusted my grip on her, her soaked dress cold and clinging. "Seems the old magic wants to make sure you succeed, even if it has to drag you through seven hells to do it."

Arthur shivered against me, tucking her face into the crook of my neck. Her breath was warm on my chilled skin, igniting a heat low in my gut that I promptly ignored.

"There was an orb," she murmured, voice muffled. “And a voice...calling me..."

I frowned, an uneasy prickle running down my spine. Orbs and disembodied voices rarely led anywhere good, inmy experience. Usually heralded some fresh misery the divine powers wanted to unleash.

"Let me guess," I said, tone flat and cynical. "Sounded like a woman? Melodic and alluring, promising great knowledge and power?"

Arthur pulled back, blinking up at me in surprise. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"

I snorted. "That was the Lady of the Lake—an old water spirit from the Unseelie Court. She loves to meddle. What did she tell you?”

Arthur was about to respond when Lancelot said, “Let’s find shelter and get her dry before we get into that. The trees have eyes and ears.”

He was right. This could wait a bit longer.

In silence, we walked for nearly an hour before reaching a cave on the side of a cliff that seemed relatively safe. I sent my shadows into its depths and found nothing but small critters scurrying around.

Rain had begun to fall in earnest now, so there was no choice but to settle in for a long night. The others would be fine once they realized they were in a portal. Tristan would be able to lead them out of it.

I carried Arthur into the cave, her small frame a shivering bundle in my arms. The cave was dark and musty, but blessedly dry. I set her down gently on a flat rock, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Lancelot wasted no time gathering kindling and logs, piling them into a neat fire pit with practiced ease. Sparks danced from his fingertips, catching the dry tinder and birthing a blaze that filled the space with flickering light and warmth.

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