The Seven Swords Read Free

Otherworld?” Kay asked, trying to change the subject slightly.
    â€œSome quest for a magic sword, which sucks because all it makes me think about is Excalibur. I can’t believe that stupid witch snagged it from me.”
    Bedevere said, “Give yourself a break, sire. She is extremely powerful.” He pointed at a pair of long scars on Artie’s leg. “Don’t forget what she did to you that day.”
    â€œI know,” said Artie. “At least if I mess up in the video game, I won’t get fried by a bolt of lightning.”
    Kay lifted her shirt a little to reveal a long crescent-shaped scar on her stomach. “Or get gored by a giant boar.”
    Bedevere twirled the stump of his right arm through the air. “Or get your arm shot off by a half-crazed wood elf.”
    Artie said, “I’m sorry about the arm, Bedevere.”
    Bedevere shook his head. “You’ve said that a million times, sire. I’m fine. I’m a knight. Knights lose things like arms from time to time.”
    â€œI guess,” Artie said, still not convinced that Bedevere really didn’t care. “But, seriously, if Merlin hasn’t turned up by next weekend, we’re going back.”
    Bedevere started, “I don’t—”
    â€œKing’s orders, Sir Bedevere,” Artie said.
    â€œHey, guys!” Kynder yelled excitedly from the kitchen before Bedevere could respond. “Come check this out!”
    Artie bolted upstairs, Kay and Bedevere right on his heels.
    As Artie stepped into the kitchen, he found Kynder wearing a very authentic-looking medieval robe. It appeared to be made of hay, burlap, and wool, and Artie thought that it must be the itchiest thing ever worn by anyone in the last five hundred years.
    â€œWell?” Kynder asked, the overhead light reflecting harshly off his square, owlish glasses. He did a little twirl and asked, “What do you think? Don’t I look exactly like a fifth-century druid?”
    Since they had returned to Shadyside, Kynder had become obsessed with general Arthuriana. He spent most of his time on the computer reading about the old days, when Romans were a scourge, and magic roamed freely over the cliffs and through the dells, and knights battled regularly and with much honor.
    In short, he’d become a Dark Ages Dr Pepper head.
    Kay rolled her eyes and pushed by him. “No, Kynder,” she said loudly, “not exactly . I don’t think druids wore Nikes. And if they had glasses, they sure didn’t look anything like yours.” Kay opened the fridge and stared into it.
    â€œOh, well, besides that,” Kynder said. “I’m sure they didn’t wear underwear, either.”
    â€œ Gross ,” Kay said, closing the fridge without taking anything out.
    They heard the front door open and close. Lance clambered into the kitchen carrying a couple of big empty buckets and a short two-by-four. “Hey, dudes! Who wants to help me put some new sparring dummies together?”
    â€œI do!” Kay said, quickly moving toward the patio door. She loved making things that she could later destroy with Cleomede.
    Lance followed her and paused next to a silent Artie. He knew how hard it had been for Artie to wait to return to the Otherworld to save his friend. “C’mon, dude,” Lance said. “Don’t mope. It’ll be good to work. Go get the circular saw and meet us in the yard.”
    â€œAll right,” Artie said softly.
    â€œGood,” Lance said. He went out back and Artie ambled after him.
    Artie did actually feel a little better as he and his knights worked on the dummies. Lance measured, Artie cut some two-by-fours, and Kay and Bedevere assembled. They’d made dozens of dummies over the past couple of weeks and had it down pat. Artie liked the growl of the saw and the smell of the sawdust. Lance had been right: working was good.
    Artie finished cutting the last batch