Page 91 of The Sword & the Stone

Mordred hissed as the sword's light seared her arm, just barely making contact, leaving an angry red welt. Her eyes narrowed, and her shadows writhed and twisted, coalescing into nightmarish shapes with razor-sharp claws.

I beat my wings, lifting off the ground as the shadow creatures lunged for me. Excalibur flashed, its light dispelling the darkness wherever it touched.

Their claws raked across my skin. I cried out in pain but kept swinging Excalibur, its golden light blazing through the darkness. My wings beat furiously, carrying me just out of reach of the writhing mass of nightmares below.

"You can't run forever, little sister," Mordred taunted, her voice echoing unnaturally through the twisted wood. “I’ll make your death painless if you hand over the sword. You don’t have to suffer the way our father did.”

I gritted my teeth, pushing back the fear. Because Iwasafraid. Mordred chilled the blood in my veins. Excalibur pulsed in my grip, its warmth spreading up my arm. Its ancient magic mingled with my own, filling me with a strength I didn't know I possessed.

“Arthur!” someone shouted, and idly, I knew it was Lancelot. My men were shouting and cursing as they fought against thedark magic that held them hostage. Galahad’s magic was no match for Mordred’s grip on the tree branches. Not here. Not in this wood soaked in darkness.

With a battle cry that surprised even me, I dove towards Mordred. Excalibur cleaved through her shadow creatures, dispelling them in bursts of golden light. Her eyes widened in shock as I barreled towards her.

Our magic clashed in a thunderous explosion of light and darkness. The force of it sent us both tumbling across the forest floor. I rolled to my feet, wincing as pain lanced through my side. A quick glance showed a deep gash where one of her shadow claws had found its mark.

Mordred stood as well, her red hair wild and her green eyes blazing with fury. Blood trickled from a cut on her cheek where Excalibur grazed her. She snarled, baring teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the moonlight.

“Druid blood runs through my veins too, little girl! My mother taught me everything. How to kill. How to feed off of blood magic. She taught me how to be a fucking god. What didyourmother teach you?” She laughed, and the sound made me feel ill. “Oh yes, she taught you how to roll over and take it like a good little bitch.”

Dark energy crackled around her hands, morphing into wicked-looking blades of shadow. She lunged at me, moving with inhuman speed. I barely managed to bring Excalibur up in time to parry her strike. The clash of our weapons sent shockwaves through the clearing, causing the twisted trees to groan and shudder.

A vicious slash caught me across the shoulder, and I cried out in pain. The wound burned with an unnatural cold, as if Mordred's darkness was trying to seep into my very being. I stumbled back, my wings flaring instinctively to keep me balanced.

Distantly, I heard Merlin calling my name.

My shoulder burned with icy fire where Mordred's shadow blade had struck. Each beat of my wings sent fresh waves of agony through my body, but I refused to yield.

My sister circled me like a predator, enjoying every moment of my pain. My eyes flicked to the door of the stone temple. I’d managed to turn us around, and I was now much closer to the threshold than Mordred was. She hadn’t even bothered to notice the maneuver.

She was still talking, but I’d tuned out her voice, knowing her words were venomous lies. She’d say anything to make me falter. I just needed her to keep talking.

I patted my pocket, feeling a familiar shape growing warmer under my fingertips. I kept my eyes locked on Mordred, feigning exhaustion as I stumbled back another step. My wings drooped, as if I could barely keep them aloft. Inside, my heart raced.Just a few more feet...

She raised her shadow blades; the darkness writhed around her like a living thing. The moon loomed behind her, its swirling surface casting an eerie, otherworldly glow across her pale as death skin. In that light, Mordred looked less human and more like some ancient, malevolent entity.

"I am the true heir of Camelot," she hissed as I backed slowly up the obsidian staircase.

As she spoke, I felt my back press against something solid.

The temple door.

My hand snuck into my pocket, fingers closing around the cool metal of the golden key I'd retrieved from the first riddle box in the Boneyard. Its weight was reassuring in my palm.

As Mordred lunged forward, her shadow blades raised for a killing blow, I ducked and thrust the key into the lock. The moment it clicked, a blinding flash of golden light erupted from the temple doors.

Mordred stumbled back with a pained cry, shielding her eyes. I straightened and squinted against the radiance, watching in awe as intricate runes carved into the stone began to glow. They pulsed with power, each symbol igniting in a cascading wave that spread across the entire facade of the temple.

The light grew more intense, revealing patterns I hadn't noticed before. Spiraling fractals and ancient sigils danced across the surface, a language older than time itself. I could almost understand it, the meaning hovering just at the edge of my mind.

A deep rumble shook the ground beneath as the temple doors began to swing inward. The sound of grinding stone filled the air, punctuated by the snapping and creaking of ancient mechanisms that were sitting long dormant. Stale air rushed out, carrying with it the scent of dust, forgotten magic, and somethingother.

The golden light spilling out beckoned to me, promising answers. Promising the end to this godsforsaken quest. But as I moved to cross the threshold, some latent instinct made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

In that split second, I spun around, Excalibur blazing to life in my grip. The sword moved as if it had a will of its own, guiding my movements as I thrust the glowing blade forward.

Time seemed to slow as I watched Excalibur's point pierce Mordred's chest. Her eyes widened in shock and pain, her mouth opening in a silent scream. The shadow blades she'd been about to plunge into my back dissipated like smoke.

The force of the blow sent Mordred stumbling backward. She clutched at the wound, dark blood seeping between her fingers. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to her knees on the obsidian steps.

---