Pellinore lets out a long, low whistle. “Now THAT is going to be a hard nut to crack. Your weapon is… in the White House. The home of the President of the United States of America. He’s a king in all but name, or at least he thinks of himself as such. He DOES have a lot of authority and power, to be sure. If we go to recim Excalibur… we may just start a war.”

  I frown. “Can this man not be reasoned with? If Merlin will give me enough money, we could perhaps simply BUY my sword back from him, though it galls me to think of doing so?”

  “Hah! Reasonable is the LAST word anyone would use to describe him. He’s convinced of his own importance, and anyone else, he views as less important than him. There’ll be no hope of negotiating with him. And even if you were to offer a great sum, his arrogance and greed would see him ask more and more.”

  I sigh. “Then we must spirit the weapon away without being seen? Or am I simply to march into this stronghold and take back my bde by force?”

  My knight shrugs. “We know where it is, that’s the important thing. Now, we can return to the others and share what we’ve learned.”

  It is but the work of minutes to go back to Emily’s home, and my knights crowd round the kitchen table as I expin what happened at the library, Merlin listening in as the preteen magical powerhouse’s brow furrows slightly in thought.

  She twists a strand of long, dark hair around her finger, before saying, “I can certainly get us to America, but getting your sword out of the White House is going to be more complicated than just walking in. We’d need special permissions in order to get into the building, and we’re technically British citizens, thanks to our bodies, but your knights are from before that time and it took a lot of effort to get even a handful of them identities that hold up against the scrutiny of the powers that be. Leaving the country might be risky, and getting the sword is gonna be near-impossible. However, I DO have a little bit of a pn.”

  We all lean in as Merlin hops down from the countertop, her school shoes clicking on the faux-wooden flooring. She puts her hands on her hips. “I’m going to have to come with you. I’ll use magic to falsify the documentation we need, and then leave illusory copies of us with the tour group while WE sneak off, invisible and masked from heat-sensors. We’ll have just a handful of minutes to find Excalibur and swap it out for a replica. Once done, I’ll send the sword to our hideaway by magic before we rejoin the group. It bothers me, but this is the best I can come up with.”

  Gahad fistpumps, her eyes shining. “I think it’s a great idea! I wish I could help, but I stand out way too much with this rainbow explosion!”

  Gawain and Pellinore share a look. “We’ll get the hideaway squared away and prepare for your arrival. Sir Bedivere will likely be back, we’ll put him to work too.”

  I feel gratitude surging through my borrowed heart, thankful that I’m not having to figure this all out alone. I nod. “After the Sotheby’s auction, we’ll go straight to America. Do we have a way there faster than pnes?”

  Merlin nods. “I could just take us there through a portal, but all the paperwork is going to need some time to create. EVERYWHERE will want to check our passports and documents. I’ll have to use magic to make myself look older, since no-one will believe that we’re not tourists.”

  She sighs. “This is going to wear me out, I swear…”

  I wince. “I’m sorry… I know the magic is hard to do so frequently… But, once we’ve got the bde, we can rest and recover in our hotel room before leaving through another portal to go wherever the hideaway you keep talking about is.”

  The knights share a look, then grin, as Merlin blinks. “Your Majesty… You should already KNOW where we have been hiding out. We’ve been building our base underneath the site of Camelot!”

  I stare at them. “My castle still stands?!”

  The sombre looks on the faces of my assembled knights speaks volumes. I sag a little. “Ah, no. Of course not. I should’ve expected as much… How much is left?”

  Merlin gently speaks. “Very little, Sire. The Great Hall is all that stands, and its construction has been falsely attributed to a French king named William the Conqueror.”

  I frown. “I really need to visit that museum you mentioned the day before. How much of our story is still told?”

  Gahad gently rests a hand on my elbow. “Well, I’ll take you, but you aren’t going to like it…”

  THREE HOURS LATER…

  “This is… outrageous! They think I’m a Roman soldier? That my deeds, and the deeds of my fellow knights, were just…myth?!”

  I am currently struggling not to lose what little grasp I have on my emotions. The museum had, in fact, been a bad idea. I’d managed to hold it together for long enough to get back to the house, before blowing my top.

  “They viewed me as a piece of fiction! There’s no reason to believe I actually existed, thanks to… THIS!”

  And, to the shock of myself and quite possibly my knights as well, I burst into tears. Gahad instinctively moves to embrace me, her arms wrapping around my shoulders and holding me tight. I give vent to my frustrations and impotent fury at being forgotten to such a degree that my whole life is merely a tall tale, a series of myths about a king and an order of knights who were made up.

  Gawain and Pellinore are both beside me, as they join the hug, Merlin reaching out and touching her hand to my cheek. The tiny mage speaks softly.

  “I know. It was hard for me to watch it happen, but I decided to weaponize the belief that you were a falsehood to our benefit. Morgana’s been rexing her grip steadily with her apparent confidence that you are truly gone, and thus I can act far more openly than I have been able to previously. And now, we are ready to enact your glorious return. We will move our base to another, unoccupied parcel of nd that I have bought years ago and left undeveloped, big enough to rebuild Camelot to its former glory and then some. And, with you returned, we can begin a crusade to restore Britain, and the world, to its rightful state of mind. Petty tyrants will be brought low and face justice for their crimes. We… will re-establish the Knights of the Round Table, and bring peace once again!”

  Merlin’s voice grows somewhat louder as she procims our goals. I sniffle, wiping my eyes, then exhale forcefully.

  “You’re right. If I spend any more time feeling sorry for myself, we’ll never get anything done. Gawain, you said you were acting as a physical trainer in this era? Then I want you to help me strengthen my body. I’ll do as you command, as long as it makes me strong and fit. Please!”

  Gawain cps her hands. “Alright. Then get some clothes on that would suit exercise. A t-shirt and jogging bottoms will do nicely. Trainers, too. We’re going for a run!”

  An hour ter, I’m exhausted. Gawain had taken me running until I thought my legs would fall off, then she’d had me do push-ups until my arms had given out. Land-sprints, burpees, sit-ups, crunches… My body aches, but in a strangely pleasant way. My injuries are well-healed now, so the exercise isn’t an issue. What IS a problem is my ck of resilience. Lying on my back on the grass, I pant, gasping for anything approaching a lungful of air. Gawain smirks down at me as she leans over.

  “Not bad, Your Majesty. I’ve worked with far, FAR worse. Some of the clients I’ve put through even half as much were unable to handle it. Your stamina is a bit cking, but we’ll get that up to par with some endurance training. I went a bit harder on you than I usually would so I could really get a sense of your limits and where to push them.”

  I pant, “Don’t… hold back… Gawain! That’s… an order… from your king!”

  She ughs, and hands me a bottle of water. “Drink up, then we can head home. We’ll be doing this sort of thing every morning, so don’t get to bed too te, mmkay?”

  I nod, my head thumping softly back onto the grass as I down half the bottle in seconds.

  “Guuuuh… this is going to suuuuck…! But I asked for this, so don’t you let me sck off, Gawain. I grant you full authority to get me in shape, no matter what I say or do!”

  “By your command, my liege!” Gawain’s smirk grows as she helps me up, her muscles flexing estically as she hauls me easily to my feet. I compin, “I wish I still had my armour, though. I feel naked without it…”

  Gawain shrugs. “Armour is less useful these days, thanks to guns being so prevalent. All pte armour will do is make you a shinier target. Plus, you’ll look like a right ninny prancing about in a cuirass and greaves in any situation other than a cospy convention.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, you’re right about that one… things used to be so much simpler… if I had a problem, I could just hit it with Excalibur until it went away, or send my knights out on quests of derring-do and grand heroics…”

  A cheerful shout comes from nearby.

  “EEEMILLYYYYY! HEEEEEEY!”

  Two girls I haven’t seen before jog up to me, eyes wide. One of them is a tall, willowy girl with rich, dark-brown hair tumbling in waves down her shoulders. The other is short, with a wild, spiky mop of locks in a stunningly-vibrant shade of red. They look me up and down, then over at my knight.

  “What happened? You never showed up to css! And who’s this?”

  I blink. The girls appear to know the girl whose body I’ve cimed as my own. Gawain steps in. “Good afternoon, you must be friends of Emily’s, yes? I’m her aunt, Gwen. I guess you didn’t know my niece was in an accident with a truck a few days ago? She made a quick recovery, for the most part. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, thank God, and I’ve taken a few days off to help her get back into fighting shape.”

  The pair look utterly poleaxed. The short redhead gasps, “That’s why you never answered your phone! It must’ve gotten smashed up in the crash!”

  I shrug. “I’m sorry, I took quite a hit and my memories are a little foggy right now… I can’t remember your names…”

  The brunette’s hand flies to her mouth. “Wait, you’ve got amnesia?!”

  Redhead adds, “What… the… fuck?! How hard did you get hit, dude?!”

  Gawain steps closer to me. “Language, please, young dy! My niece isn’t fully recovered yet, even if she’s back on her feet.”

  “U-uh, right. My bad, sorry.”

  The brunette smiles. “Well, I guess re-introductions are in order, then. I’m Phyllis Glendale, and I’ve been in your css for two years running.”

  The redhead gestures at herself with a thumb. “And I’m Katie Woodcroft. We used to hang out a lot in secondary school but you got popur and I had a boyfriend so we drifted apart a bit.”

  I smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Again? I think?”

  Katie grins, her short, spiky red hair ruffled in a strong breeze. “Likewise!”

  Phyllis presses a hand to her chest. “Well, I’m gd you’re okay, Emily. Will you be in css on Monday?”