K Jeter - Morlock Night

I disconsolately studied the swords as they lay with their blades crossed upon each other. So this was the end of our quest! That which we had sought was now in our possession at last – a bitter treasure of lies and useless forgeries.

Tafe came to my side and looked down at the swords. "Kind of a disappointment," she said, moving one with the toe of her boot.

"You might say that." The flat understatement amused some morbid humorist in my soul. "I'm not quite sure I would have come this far if I'd known it was going to be like this."

"Me either." For a moment I thought she hadn't caught my sarcasm, then I turned and saw her smiling sadly at me. "We gave it our best shot, though, didn't we?"

"Pity it has to end this way." I watched her foot move the swords about something about the torchlight glinting on the metal dropped into my mind like a stone into clear water. "Unless- "

"Unless what?" She looked at me, puzzled.

I turned and grabbed her by the arm. "See here, Tafe," I said excitedly. "That bloodthirsty woman upstairs couldn't get these swords she had to combine into one, eh? And so we all assume that Ambrose lied about them, and that they're incapable of merging back into one sword. But couldn't it be that these swords here, as they are only fraudulent copies of the true Excalibur that has always been in our possession, seek not to combine with each other but only with the master from whose mould they were taken?" I lifted the bundle up before us. "Think of the true Excalibur as a glass filled with essence. These other swords need to be poured, so to speak, back into this one. Eh? What do you think of that?"

Tafe rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Well," she said. "I suppose it's worth a try. We've got nothing to lose at any rate."

Hastily, I fumbled off the straps and cloths wrapped about the sword. When it was free of them I gripped its hilt with both hands, inhaled deeply, and pressed the point of its blade against the sword nearest to me on the ground. For a moment, metal touched metal with no result, then The torch on the wall flickered and nearly went out as a gust of wind pulsed through the chamber. In my hands Excalibur, now twice as heavy as before, suddenly pulled downward to rest its point on the dirty stone floor. Only two of the false swords remained beneath our eyes.

Tafe and I exchanged glances. "Go on," she whispered, her voice filled with awe at what we had seen. "Touch the others with it."

As I moved the true Excalibur toward the next sword I saw that the inscription on the blade had grown clearer, though it was still blurred beyond reading. Metal touched metal and another violent gust of wind chilled our faces and hands. The sword whose hilt I gripped was again heavier, having reabsorbed some of the power that had been stolen from it.

One sword remained on the stone floor. Slowly I brought the now weighty Excalibur against it. The torch on the wall guttered and went out in the sudden gust of wind that filled the chamber. We were left in darkness with the object which we had undertaken our quest to find: the one true Excalibur restored to its full power. It lay heavy in my hand as I lifted it and ran trembling fingers along the length of the blade. The runic letters of the inscription were now clearly incised.

I reached down to my feet and found the wrappings in which I had carried it. I felt now the sacredness of the object and the respect the ancient artefact deserved. When it was bundled once more I turned toward Tafe in the darkness and whispered, "We have found it."

"Yes," came her reply. "But what good does it do? We're thousands of miles and God knows how many centuries away from the one who can use the sword. Arthur's back in the England of your time and we're in the middle of this Godforsaken frozen waste. Even if we could get out of this dungeon, how do you propose to get back?"

My joy at the restoration of Excalibur to its true state disappeared with Tafe's reminder of our condition. Our victory had again receded into shallow defeat. "Well," I said, my voice coming from some hollow centre of pain in my chest, "then there's nothing but- Wait! Did you hear something then?"

In the darkness it was easy to concentrate upon our sense of hearing. For a moment I thought it was perhaps nothing but the blood rushing in my veins, then Tafe spoke. "There," she said. "Something rumbling in the ground below us."

The sound grew louder, evolving into a churning, roaring noise. Soon the floor beneath our feet began to vibrate, and the ancient stones of the castle grated against one another. Dust from the long undisturbed roof sifted down upon us from above.

"What is it?" cried Tafe. "What's going on? An earthquake?"

The words of a half-forgotten dream came back to me, and suddenly I understood them. "No," I said, "it's the sword! It seeks to return to its proper time – and didn't the woman say that this was a place of power? Excalibur is turning the centuries back to the time where it rightfully belongs!"

With fearsome rumbling and groaning noises the walls of the castle began to crumble into their component atoms. The stones of the dungeon toppled in on us, but dissolved into nothingness before they hit us. Through the sudden yawning spaces above us I could see the moon and stars whirl about as they wrenched themselves back into the constellations of the year 1892.

"Hold on to the sword!" I cried to Tafe, thrusting the bundle between us. "It will take us with it. The power is great enough!"

Her hands grasped the cloth-wrapped sword. The floor heaved and creaked beneath our feet but we managed to stay upright. The stones of the castle lay all around in ruins, then flicked one by one out of existence as Time coursed backward.

The Earth's motion grew less, then finally was stilled. An eerie calm settled over the snow-covered crag on which we found ourselves. Moonlight bathed the drifts, silvered the trees of a forest below. Some small mechanism of my heart felt at rest. This I knew was the year 1892. Only distance separated us from England, Arthur, and the end of our quest.

"There's still a chance," I said to Tafe. "We may have arrived at a time early enough to forestall the Morlocks' invasion plans – if we can get Excalibur into the hands of Arthur."

"Yes, but how?" she said. "That's hundreds of miles away!"

"Col. Nalga said there was a village near this spot. If we can get to it we can hire some means of transportation to a larger town, and then travel by rail back to England."

"Is there enough time for that?"

"What other choice do we have? Either we go that route and pray we have enough time, or we simply give up where we stand."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "We've come too far for that. We'd better hurry if we're going to find that village before we freeze to death out here."

We commenced walking and were lucky enough to stumble upon a well-marked trail leading down out of the hills. After following its winding length for only a half-mile or so we were able to spy a cluster of lights below us. We quickened our paces, longing for the sight of plain human faces.

Tafe suddenly spoke. "Don't turn your head yet," she whispered. "But when I say to, look about twenty yards up the face of the cliff just to your right, and be quick about it. All right, now."

I did as she directed and was rewarded with the sight of something being jerked back behind a little outcropping of rock. A death-pale face with white hair and dark blue spectacles! Perhaps.

"You saw it?" said Tafe.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "They're waiting for us here. When we disappeared from the castle in the future they must have reasoned that we had found a way to unite the swords and return with it to this time. Obviously they mean to stop us before we can reach Arthur with Excalibur."