Page 53 of The Sword & the Stone

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she turned back to face the portal. With Excalibur held high, she stepped forward, the golden light enveloping her like a lover's embrace. For a heartbeat, she seemed to hover on the threshold, caught between two realms. Then, with a flash of blinding brilliance, she vanished, drawn into the heart of Avalon.

The rest of us moved to follow, but before we could take more than a step, a sudden movement caught my eye. A dark cloud, like a writhing mass of shadows, was rapidly approaching from the east. As it drew closer, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was not a cloud at all, but a seething flock of crows, their inky black forms stark against the lavender sky.

They descended on the portal in a frenzied swarm, their raucous cries piercing the air like shards of glass. I watched in horror as they funneled through the shimmering gateway, their dark forms vanishing into the light one after another.

“It’s Mordred!” Merlin shouted, his voice cracking with fear as he sprinted towards the portal after Arthur.

Fury boiled in my veins.How could we have been so stupid?

My eyes locked with Lancelot's. "She was waiting for the portal. She's after Excalibur!"

Lancelot cursed, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip on his sword. "And if she gets her hands on the sword, she'll claim the Grail too."

I lunged for the portal, my heart hammering against my ribs as I leaped into the shimmering light. The magic engulfed me, searing through my veins like liquid fire. For an instant, I was suspended between worlds, caught in a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and sensations.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. I stumbled out onto the emerald grass of Avalon. I spun around, my eyes frantically scanning the landscape for any sign of Arthur. But she was nowhere to be seen. She’d vanished into the vast expanse of the fae realm. A cold knot of fear twisted in my gut.If Mordred found her first...

A flash of movement caught my eye, and I whirled to see Lancelot burst through the portal in a blaze of fire. His eyes were wild, his hair whipping about his face as he raised his hands, flames already flickering to life along his fingertips.

The crows descended on him in a screeching mass of flapping wings and glittering eyes. But Lancelot was ready for them. With a roar of fury, he thrust his hands forward, engulfing the crows in a blistering inferno.

The birds screeched in agony, their feathers smoldering and turning to ash as they tumbled from the sky. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, acrid and nauseating, but Lancelot didn't flinch.

Gawain leaped through the portal a heartbeat later, his hands already coated in a shimmering layer of frost. With a fluid grace, he thrust his arms outward, sending a flurry of razor-sharp icicles hurtling towards the remaining crows. The frozen projectiles found their marks with deadly precision, impaling the birds and sending them plummeting to the ground in a rain of blood and ice.

Percy was last through the portal, his writhing shadows surrounding him like living tentacles. A darkness covered the portal as more birds tried to flood through, blocking their way into Avalon. Percy shouted, gritting his teeth against the onslaught, but the portal was already starting to close, shrinking with every heartbeat.

Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the portal collapsed, the golden light winking out of existence. Percy stumbled backwards, his legs giving out beneath him as he pitched towards the ground. I lunged, catching him around the waist and hauling him upright. He sagged against me, his head lolling onto my shoulder.

The air around us crackled with residual magic, the lingering traces of the portal mingling with the coppery scent of blood. Gawain and Lancelot were already moving, their eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of Arthur or Merlin.

"Arthur!" Lancelot called, his voice echoing through the twilight. "Merlin!"

But only silence greeted us, broken by the mournful whisper of the wind through the ancient trees. The indigo sky stretched out above us, the stars twinkling like diamonds. It would have been breathtaking if not for the gnawing fear that gripped me. She should have been right here waiting.

I closed my eyes, reaching out with my magic, trying to sense Arthur's presence. Now that we were in Avalon, magic was stronger, and I should be able to sense the familiarity of hers. But the land was saturated with power tonight, the very air humming with it, and I couldn't untangle her aura from the ancient threads.

"Spread out," I said, my voice sounding hoarse to my own ears. "They can't have gone far."

We moved through the forest like shadows, our footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves. The trees loomed over us, their trunks twisted and gnarled with age, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers. So much older than the trees in Albion. Bioluminescent flowers bloomed in the undergrowth, their petals pulsing with magic.

The eerie call of a familiar horn echoed through the forest, sending a shiver down my spine. It was a sound I hadn't heard in centuries, not since the last time I set foot in Avalon. The horn of the Wild Hunt, blown only when the fae courts rode out to chase down a quarry.

I exchanged a tense glance with Gawain and Galahad who both stood to my right and left, their eyes reflecting the same dread that coiled in my gut. If the Hunt was out tonight, then Arthur was in more danger than we realized. The riders would be drawn to her magic like moths to a flame.

But the bigger problem was who might have sent them.

We moved through the trees with renewed urgency, our senses strained for any sign of Arthur or Merlin. The forest seemed to shift and change around us, the paths twisting andturning in ways that defied logic. It was as if Avalon itself was working against us, trying to keep us from our queen.

Our queen…Because that’s what she was, I realized. Athur was everything a queen should be and more, and fate had decided that I would protect her. Thatwewould keep her safe.

I paused at the base of an ancient oak, its trunk wider than four Albion Oaks put together. The bark was rough beneath my fingertips, thrumming with a deep, primal magic that set my teeth on edge, but at the same time, settled something inside me. I closed my eyes, reaching out with my senses, trying to untangle Arthur's aura from the web of power that permeated the forest.

For a moment, there was nothing. Silence save for the thundering horn of The Wild Hunt. Then, like a distant candle flame flickering to life in the darkness, I felt it. A whisper of Arthur's magic.

Chapter Eighteen

ARTHUR

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