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He disappeared.
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
Lancelot was a fucking dragon!
A gigantic, silver-scaled, silver-eyed, scaly aquatic lizard that could breathe fire under water.
After getting knocked nearly senseless by one of the shadow’s liquid missiles, Arthur could only gape, dumbstruck, as Lancelot made short work of their attackers. It all happened so fast.
But Arthur only had eyes for Lancelot—the silver water dragon.
He had two long, curved antelope-like antlers on top of his head where his temples were. Two small spikes sat in front of the horns as similar spikes ran down the middle of his face on the bridge of his long snout, which looked like a cross between a lizard’s and a bird’s beak, sharp and pointed at the tip.
Two fan-like fins sat on the sides of his face where his ears should have been, making it look as if he was wearing an elaborate headdress, while the spikes and antlers were his crown. Flowing silver mane ran from his forehead all the way down his long, scaly neck, which was ridged with spikes increasing in size.
His body was long and fully encased in an armor of seemingly impenetrable scales. Yet they looked satiny and warm as well. He had four almost equally-sized legs with webbed claws, a spiked tail that flattened into a fin, and two larger fins that protruded from the middle of his body like small wings.
In fact, there were more fins all along his body, though he kept them mostly retracted when he fought. They helped him maneuver, and they were hidden weapons too, lashing out at unexpected moments, for their edges were hard and sharp like blades.
The brutal battle was over in a matter of moments, though time seemed suspended as Arthur stared in awe.
Before he knew it, he was clutched in the water dragon’s foreclaw and shuttled to the surface of the river. Peripherally, he was aware of Merlin and Wolfe’s descent, that everyone was safe and relatively unharmed. The knocks they took would heal in a matter of days if not hours.
They survived.
But then, he heard Lancelot’s words in his mind.
They were parting words. But Arthur didn’t comprehend them as such until the dragon suddenly lost substance and disappeared into thin air, leaving him treading water—
Alone and bereft.
Even though his friends and family were only a few feet away, riding Rui’s back as she floated like a duck, Arthur felt alone.
Involuntarily, he sank beneath the water, as if his body forgot what to do. He suspended there for a time, seeing and hearing nothing, though his eyes remained open.
There was no Lancelot here.
No Lancelot anywhere.
At that realization, Arthur’s body kicked into gear again, propelling him to the surface. When he broke through, he said, meeting the gaze of each of his friends:
“I’m going to find Lance and bring him back. I’ll need Excalibur to do it. Help me. I shall be eternally in your debt.”
Then swim this way, Pendragons, a new voice said.
They all whirled around at the source.
It was Sai in dragon form with Brigid on his back!
Arthur recognized the man in the dragon as if he could see him. And the dragon himself, at first glance, looked so much like Lancelot. On closer inspection, however, he could see many differences and nuances.
The shape of the antlers. The placement of fins and spikes. The curve of Sai’s jaw and the sheen of his scales. More white gold, especially on his throat and belly, instead of opals ringed with silver on Lancelot.
The two dominant fins extending from his sides looked more like sails, much larger than Lancelot’s. He used them now like the oars of a ship to keep him steady and buoyant.
Most of all, his eyes were glittering diamonds where Lancelot’s were mercurial silver. Seeing a dragon who looked so much like his own made Arthur’s heart pang and twist in his chest.
He swam toward the dragon’s extended fin and climbed aboard, settling behind Brigid.
