The essence I’d received was even lighter on detail than usual. It was like some higher power had created the drop but hadn’t bothered filling in the description field. It was a crafting material, but I had no way of knowing what it did or how good it was from description alone.

I wasn’t happy about it, but it tracked, considering the nature of this place.

Unfinished.

As the shadows that drove them dispersed to nothing, the corrupted Knights of the Round fell.

Some slid to their knees, propping themselves up by their blades with breath-like shudders until they stilled, while others seemed to pass on instantly, their armor clanging to the ground like puppets with cut strings, pieces scattering across the ground.

Nick stood at the center of the chaos, bemused. He spotted me and nodded, stoically. Tension flooded out of me. Nick was safe. We’d made it. We were both still alive.

Gawain and his contingent were still standing, though there were only a half-dozen, far less than before, and judging from their sluggish movements and difficulty standing, it wouldn’t be long until they followed the others.

With the threat handled, my eyes traveled downward, pouring over the charred corpse at my feet. It really was a shame I had to kill him. The similarities of our power sets were undeniable. There was little question in my mind that Merlin was an Ordinator—or at the very least, a failed copy of one. And from what he’d said, he wasn’t the only one. If he’d been more agreeable, less hellbent on using me as a vessel, we probably could have helped each other.

There was a sluggish clanking as a lithe suit of armor took its place at my side.

“You cook ‘em like that?” Sir Kay asked, more curious than anything else.

I shook my head. “Cooked himself. I just got out of the way.”

He leaned over the corpse, bent at the waist, and spit. A small wad of dark liquid landed on Merlin’s charred cheek. “Good riddance.”

“Not a fan, I take it.”

“Always thought he was better than us. Too good for the Round Table, yet ordered us around like he was Arthur himself.” At the mention of Arthur, Sir Kay glanced over to where Nick and Gawain were conversing quietly. “Him though? He’s the real thing. One of us. No matter what Sir Stick-up-his-arse says.”

“Nick?” I asked.

“Yeh. Saved my bacon more than once, despite me being a right shite to you at the beginning.” Sir Kay shook his head. “Don’t understand people like them.”

Same.

Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulder and pressed down. My blade was in my hand before I could react on a conscious level, and I nearly lashed out. Then I realized what was actually happening.

Sir Kay was fading. The shadows still visible from gaps in his armor were graying out, and gravity itself turned on him. His legs trembled, and as he sank to his knees, I caught him under his armpit to steady him. Even his voice sounded static, less clearly defined. “Don’t… think I’m gonna be useful for much longer.”

I didn’t know what to say. If it wasn’t for <Subjugation>, he’d likely have fought for the other side. But he’d given it his all. And even if he was an asshole, he’d fought like hell. Protected Nick. Given me time to find Merlin.

This was all so surreal.

“You did everything I asked of you and more.” I searched his visor, trying to approximate eye contact. “Conducted yourself with honor.”

His barked laugh sounded like a distant hiss. “Honor my arse. We both know I only did it cause you made me. But… I did my best. And…” his voice grew far away. “It felt good. To crack heads alongside Gawain again.”

“Is there anything you want?” I asked. The way he sounded, he didn’t have long. “Anything I can do for you?”

Sir Kay’s helmet rotated toward Merlin. “Well. His eyes are already gone. Wed his face for me?”

I cocked my head. “You mean—”

“Do it myself, but it don’t come out right no more.”

I snuck a glance back over at Nick and Sir Gawain. They appeared to be having a much less coarse conversation. Gawain offered Nick his sword. From the tears streaking down Nick’s face, and the way Gawain was trembling, he was on his way out as well.

“Uh. Sure. Might wait a while, if that’s alright.”

Sir Kay nodded. “Fewer witnesses. I understand.”

“Anything else?”

“Felt nice… having a purpose again.” All strength went out of him, and I leaned him back, straining a little to keep his head from hitting the floor. His visor turned toward Nick. “He important to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Like a brother?”

“In everything but blood.”

A choking noise emerged from Sir Kay’s helmet. “Had a brother once. Self-righteous, arrogant, always had all the answers. Hated the prick.”

“Constantly in your business, looking over your shoulder…”

Sir Kay nodded weakly. “Aye. You know it well. We mended things for a while. Even tried his way of doing things. Worked for a while. But eventually, it all fell apart again. Distance grew. And when he needed me most, I wasn’t there. Only realized how much he mattered to me after he was gone.” He reached up and braced a hand on my neck. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

I nodded slowly.

Sir Kay’s heavy gauntlet slid off my neck and clattered to the floor.

He was gone.

I stood slowly. All the Knights were gone now, reduced to human-shaped piles of armor on the floor. Every ache and pain I’d been ignoring flared, new wounds and scars alike making themselves known. For the first time in my life, I felt old.

Can’t keep this up forever.

Nick rubbed furiously at his face as I approached, trying to erase the evidence of emotion from his conversation with the fallen Knight and failing. He sheathed his sword and scowled at me. “Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?” I asked.

“‘Dude wanted to kill you and you’re crying over him,’ or ‘See, we should have done it my way,’ or ‘Stop being a giant piss baby.’”

I said nothing. Waited.

Slowly, Nick let the conflicting emotions go and seemed to center himself. “Thanks. For waiting to step in until they made the first move. I know you prefer to be proactive, and my nattering forced you to be reactive.” He reached out to Talia. The wolf summon sniffed his gauntlet, then pressed her head into it. “And thank you for helping him.”

“We are a pack. It is my role and my duty,” my summon said, staring up at Nick with kind eyes. “I worried for you.”

I’d hoped Nick had something to show for the bond he’d forged with Gawain. But he seemed cagey, aloof. We checked the rest of the chamber, looking for any doors or hidden passages that might lead deeper into the ripple, finding nothing. As we scavenged the remains of the battlefield, gathering as many intact sets of armor and weapons as we could carry, the glow of victory faded.

Nothing had changed. We were still in danger from the Order. We had a lot to sell, more than enough to potentially cover our escape and a life on the run, but other than that, our circumstances were still dire. Better to grab more than we needed then come up short.

At the top of the throne room, nestled between two thrones, there was an empty pedestal. The brass plaque beneath it read “Guardian of the people, servant to the needy.” Nick sat in the larger throne—presumably the King’s—while I pried decorative gemstones out of the golden backing of the thrones themselves. <Vorpal Gnasher’s> increasingly blunted tip was still more than thin enough to fit between most of the larger gems and the base.

An eye-catching ruby, slightly smaller than a fist, was giving me more trouble than the rest.

I paused, short of breath from the effort, and looked at him. “Gonna say anything or just stew over it? Also, if you wanna help with this, feel free.”

“Any jars need to be opened while I’m at it?” Nick asked.

“Fuck you.” I tossed the dagger to him hilt first, watching with small satisfaction as he fat-fingered it repeatedly and it bounced off his grip twice before he finally caught it and glared.

Nick went to work on the ruby, mouth set in a thin line. “If we walked out of here right now with nothing to show for it, how fucked would we be?”

There was something he wasn’t telling me. I thought through it.

Even if we left now and somehow got clear of the Tower, me and everyone else in my sphere were on the wrong side of the hourglass. Hastur might have more important things on his plate, but I doubted Aaron and Sunny had any intention of letting desertion slide. Hell, Aaron had ordered the death of someone who’d been more or less loyal to him because it served his purposes and he didn’t seem to think Buzzcut could hack it in the end. We’d use Kinsley’s store to offload as much of our loot as we could, pump and dump, then close shop before the Order made the connection and came after her. But there were only so many places in a city to run. Eventually, our luck would run out.

And if Merlin wasn’t just screwing with me and there were other Ordinators out there, everything was about to get a lot worse.

“Probably a solid four on the fucked scale. Only thing downgrading it from a five is that we have the initiative.”

Nick nodded. He’d already known the answer. He just wanted to hear it out loud. “Myrddin. Why that name?”

Of all the questions I’d expected, it wasn’t this. “Uh. I needed something to go by during the Transposition. Figured you know—wizard, pulled strings from the shadows, played the long game. Popped into my head and I went with it. Seemed à propos.”

“So Merlin was a little too on the nose, and the rest was coincidental. You could have just as easily picked Elminster, or Severus, or whatever.” There was a whinge of metal as Nick got the ruby free.

“Something like that,” I said. But as I spoke, I knew it was too easy. There were too many odd coincidences with this ripple, lining up with Nick’s theory that Hastur wanted us to find this place. But we’d hit a dead end.

He tossed me the ruby. I caught it and stuffed it in my inventory. When I looked up, his arms were crossed, and he looked uncharacteristically irritated. “I’m just a guy.”

“And I’m a socially awkward asshole. Why are we stating the obvious?”

“You’re not hearing me,” Nick started, and I sensed the beginning of a rant. “Everyone thinks I’m something I’m not. It’s always been that way. All these expectations get put on me and I just smile and nod, even though secretly I’ve got no clue what they’re smoking. Up to this point, I’ve just sort of accepted it as an opportunity to fake it until I make it.”

“But this is different,” I filled in.

“There’s so many layers that I’m not sure what to believe.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck, then pulled out a statuette of a red dragon. Its body was snakelike and armless, its roaring mouth filled with endless rows of teeth. Given the context, the Knights of the Round, its meaning was immediately apparent.

“The Pendragon.” My eyes slid from the statuette to my friend, shifting uncomfortably as he waited. “Gawain gave you that?”

“He started muttering in old English and, before I knew it, this just popped into existence.”

There were a lot of implications to unpack there. But the statuette’s base was perfectly circular, and when I checked the pedestal, it looked to be a perfect fit.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I muttered, talking to myself as much as Nick.

“Uhuh,” Nick said.

“And even if it means something, there’s a high possibility we’re being manipulated. The Tower can generate anything, and it seems to want to be climbed.”

“Right. Dungeons are dicks, no matter how tall they are.”

“This one in particular,” I emphasized. “We have no idea what its agenda is, other than that it seems to want to be ransacked, which in and of itself is suspect.”

But we have to look.

I took a deep breath and placed the statuette on the center of the pedestal. There was a deep rumbling that reverberated through the chamber as the ground itself seemed to vibrate. The wall behind the thrones shook, kicking up a cloud of dust as it receded into the ground. A wave of fresh, humid air washed in.

The dust settled to reveal a moonlit lake, vibrant blue waters reflecting a starry sky. Beneath the water’s surface were dozens, if not hundreds of planners. And in the center of the lake was a stone outcropping. The stone itself was crested by a dark silhouette in the shape of a T that cast its cross-like shadow over the lake.

“Is that?” Nick asked.

It had to be. The weapon behind the myth.

Excalibur.