Song of the Sword (29 page)

“I don’t like the power I get from Excalibur,” Ariane said. “It frightens me.”

“It is the power of war. The sword is only happy when it is being wielded in battle. Even when it dwelt with me, I seldom used its power. I feared I would come to love the taste of it too well and seek to rule, as Merlin seeks to rule, instead of to protect. I feared it so much that when I scattered the shards, I even hid them from myself. I cannot tell you where they are. You must listen for them with your power. Listen for the song of the sword, and shard by shard, Excalibur will be yours. But do not use
its
power unless you have to. It may destroy more than you wish to be destroyed.”

“Did it corrupt Arthur?”

“Arthur was incorruptible, or as near incorruptible as a mortal man may be. No, Excalibur did not corrupt him. It empowered him. He remade his world, and gave birth to a golden age. But he was still human, and that was his undoing. Guinevere betrayed him with his best friend, the kingdom fell into civil war, and his bastard son Mordred fought against him. Both fell and Excalibur returned to me. I broke it and scattered it. The golden age of Camelot fell into chaos and bloodshed. A dark age descended. But not as dark as the age which awaits your world if Merlin re-forges the sword.”

“She liesss,” a new voice said from behind Ariane, a voice as soft as silk and as sibilant as a snake’s hiss. If she turned around, she would see the speaker, but so
horrifying was the voice, she feared coming face-to-face with its owner. “Liesss...my massster bringsss order in place of chaossss...he will thrust thisss world to greatnesss and remake hisss own...give him the shard...help him find the othersss...he will reward you well...”

“How came you here?” the Lady thundered. “This is not your world! Begone!”

“I think not.” The voice held a hint of a cold chuckle. “Thisss is not your world either, Lady. And the door isss almossst closed. Your power is ssstretched too thin for you to command me. Though my massster’s power hasss waned with the agesss, he dwellsss in thisss world, on thisss ssside of the door to Faerie. It isss
you
who mussst begone, Lady. For now, and for alwaysss!”

A flare of red light like that of a bonfire, a hiss like water falling on hot coals, and the Lady cried out and vanished in a thick cloud of steam that erupted all around Ariane, wrapping her in dim grayness.

She turned and turned and turned again, seeking an exit. She saw a dim glow and stepped toward it, but as she did so it resolved into two red gleams, side by side.

Eyes!

“I cannot touch you, Lady,” said...whatever it was. “You know thisss...the sssword, until my massster takesss it from you, protectsss you...

But know thisss, too, Lady. My massster
will
take it from you...sssoon. And when he doesss...I will be here, in your dreamsss...and you will be mine!”

And then suddenly, with no transition at all, she woke up, staring at the dark ceiling of her room, her heart pounding.

She rolled over and looked at the shard, lying on the table beside her bed.

Do not use it unless you have to
, the Lady had said in her dream.

But she had also said,
It is a thing of war
...and like it or not, she was
in
a war, a war between ancient powers who had somehow reached forward through centuries and across whole worlds to ensnare her in their conflict.

Her half-night’s sleep had replenished her powers. Deep inside, she could hear a distant song, faint, diffuse, impossible to pinpoint yet, but definitely there – the song of the second piece of Arthur’s legendary sword.

She had won a battle, but the war...

...the war was just beginning.

She put the first shard of Excalibur under her pillow, stared into the darkness, and waited for the morning.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Matthew Hughes for his insightful editing, everyone at Coteau Books for their enthusiasm, talent and hard work, and especially thanks to my wife, Margaret Anne, and daughter, Alice, for putting up with a husband and father with, as Aunt Phyllis says of Ariane, “too much imagination.”

About the Author

Edward Willett
is the award-winning author of nearly 50 science-fiction and fantasy, science and other
non-fiction books for both young readers and adults. His latest publication, the just-released
Masks
, under the name E.C. Blake, received a glowing review in
Publishers’ Weekly
. Other science fiction novels include
Lost in Translation, Marseguro,
and
Terra Insegura
.
Marseguro
won the 2009 Prix Aurora Award for best Canadian science-fiction and fantasy novel.

His non-fiction writing for young readers has received National Science Teachers Association and VOYA awards.

Edward Willett was born in New Mexico and grew up in Weyburn, Sask. He has lived and worked in Regina since 1988. In addition to his numerous writing projects, Edward is also a professional actor and singer who has performed in dozens of plays, musicals and operas in and around Saskatchewan, hosted local television programs and emceed numerous public events.