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And they were off in search of Lancelot.
To the East.
He could almost hear Excalibur whisper in his ear. He would not rest until he recovered his Mate.
Chapter Sixteen
“Life is an unfoldment, and the further we travel the more truth we can comprehend.”
—Hypatia
It was unclear how long they flew.
On the one hand, it seemed like forever, for Arthur was desperate to get to his Mate. On the other hand, it felt fleeting, naught but a few blinks in time.
White Dragon flew over the incredible terrain of the Celestial Realm at the speed of a shooting star. Everything passed by in a blur, yet intricate, detailed images were imprinted in Arthur’s mind at the same time.
It was a dizzying effect.
Finally, they soared toward a jagged mountain peak with a small plateau at the very top. The mountain was covered with greenery and waterfalls that cascaded off its edges from no discernable source.
A ring of tall trees surrounded a grassy clearing at its tip. Slightly shorter mountains jutted around it, only their peaks rising above a sea of clouds. Like the fingers of a Titan’s outstretched hand.
Arthur could not see what lay below the skyline. It seemed bottomless.
A lone figure strode out of the ring of trees, onto the grassy field.
Arthur would recognize that confident, smooth gait anywhere. The glinting silvery hair despite an overcast sky.
Lancelot.
As if the knight felt him too, he tilted his head up toward the sky in their direction.
Even though they were still too far away to see each other clearly, a mere speck in the immeasurable distance, Arthur knew their gazes connected. He could feel the heat crackling in his veins like a newly stoked fire.
White Dragon knew it too, for it flapped its mighty wings with increased vigor and dove, tucking its wings close to the body and elongating its neck as it homed in on the mountain peak.
Then, before Arthur’s widening eyes, a swarm of black emerged from the tree line from all directions, surrounding Lancelot in the middle of the field.
On guard!
He shouted the warning in his mind a moment before Lancelot sensed the danger as well.
They were still too far away. There were dozens of shadow assassins flooding into the clearing like cockroaches.
Arthur could see the edges of Lancelot’s body shimmer like the opalescent scales of the water dragon from before.
He was trying to transform. But something was inhibiting him.
The sky around them streaked with errant sparks. The sea of clouds as well. It was as if something in the atmosphere itself was reacting to Lancelot’s presence and theirs.
As if the Celestial Realm was trying to contain them. Suppress their powers.
White Dragon faltered in its flight, staggering off its trajectory before regaining altitude with rapidly beating wings.
Wings that seemed to be there one moment, then gone the next. Same with the body.
Arthur had the sensation of free falling, then riding upon the carrier dragon, then plummeting into nothingness again.
