Page 23 of Knight of the Sword

Michael nodded and followed her, drawing up his hood as he stepped into the middle of the circle the witches had formed. Each of them held a small blue glass globe with a candle. They raised these now, as the rounded sphere of the moon began to show on the lake’s horizon, and began their soft chanting.

It was his part of the ritual to call the elements, and normally, he called in proper rotation beginning with the east, but tonight he faced west first. “Llyr, god of water, be with us.” He turned north. “Pridd, god of earth, be welcome.” Facing east, he continued, “Awyr, god of air, come swiftly.” Then, he pivoted south. “Tanio, god of fire, join us.”

He held his breath, waiting to see if the Pendragon would appear. Tanio was the god he answered to, but nothing red streaked across the sky. Instead, the water ruffled, white-capping as the wind began to blow. Leaves rustled, and then, suddenly, the blue globe that Brianna held left her hands and crashed to the ground. The candle’s flame spiraled upward and there was a collective gasp from the group as it took the shape of a small dragon, its fiery tail flicking back and forth as it hovered in front of Michael before it then flickered to earth. Michael looked down.

The scorch mark the flame left was in the form of a sword.

****

The Pendragon roused himself, his yawn vibrating off the walls of the small cave. He had been dreaming of his lair with its hoard of bright, shining jewels when he heard the call to Tanio.

Blast the warlock for waking him! Smoke flared from his nostrils before he controlled his anger. It was bad enough that he had to deal with humans again—foolish creatures who thought they could injure him with tiny pellets from a long object that one of them aimed at him. He contemplated. The metal object the human had used belched a puff of smoke itself when it made that cracking sound. Perhaps he would have to swoop down and take it from the next insipid mortal who thought to harm him. It might be an interesting piece to add to his hoard, although its dull burnished color could not compete with silver and gold.

Golden light shone at the entrance to his present cave a moment before the fire-god strode in. As always, orange fire circled his loins while red flames cloaked his bare shoulders. His blazing blue hair flared out behind him. He crossed his massive arms and glared at the dragon.

“You have not found Excalibur.”

The dragon clicked his tail, spines half-rising in irritation, but he kept his voice even. “The warlock and his mortal have no idea where it is.”

“Brighid sent you to help them.”

He leveled his cobalt stare on the god. “I am here to protect the human.”

Tanio laughed suddenly. “And how you hate to do that.”

Pendragon ruffled his scales, the sound clanging in the small space. “It was a human who so foolishly threw away the Sword in the first place.”

Sobering, Tanio nodded. “Bedwyr meant to return it to the Lady, but Manannan intercepted it, thinking it was his own sword, Answerer.”

“Ah, yes, a sea-god who should have stayed in the oceans,” Pendragon replied with a snort. “How could he mistake the Sword of fire for his?”

Tanio shrugged, sending off sparks that floated in the air. “Llyr banished him from the Lake for that bit of foolishness. Unfortunately, it also caught Balor’s attention.”

“Balor has been hunting it since then?” Pendragon asked.

“It would seem so. Luckily, Talesin found the Sword and, in time, it passed on to the Lion-Heart and found its way to Sarras to reunite with the other relics.” Tanio frowned, the flames of his cloak leaping around him. “This time, humans might not be so lucky. Balor has become extremely powerful in the mortal world while you slept. Excalibur in his hands would mean total chaos and destruction.”

The dragon nodded thoughtfully. “And if he has Sigurd to help him—”

“What?” Tanio’s head came up sharply, blue spikes from his hair flaring wildly. “The white dragon lies buried deep in the northern ice. Only my fire can melt his prison.”

“He has been called forth,” Pendragon answered. “I have smelt him.”

“But how—”

“Perhaps the demon, Lucifer, freed him,” the red dragon replied. “He had a talent with fire, if I recall.”

Flames blazed around Tanio. “That damn renegade. He never would abide by our rules. If Sigurd is loose, our problem has just been magnified many times over.”

Pendragon snarled, revealing sharp, elongated fangs. “You leave Sigurd to me. I owe him for what he did to Arthur.”

“Just remember, finding Excalibur is what counts.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Dragons have long memories.”

Tanio nodded and abruptly disappeared, leaving a small, smoldering pile of ash in his wake.

Pendragon smiled, his rough tongue caressing his pointed teeth. This fight is personal now. Sigurd will die. I vow it.