As she wandered down the hall, she came across a small chapel, doors wide open but completely empty. She found herself drawn inside, sinking down into one of the pews, head bowed. When reading her story online, she'd discovered that after the whole thing with Lancelot had been made public, she'd ended up joining a nunnery, swearing off boys for the rest of her life. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea after all. Surely they'd brought her nothing but trouble so far.
But oh, Arthur.
Her heart ached as she tried to imagine an existence without him at her side. He'd been her best friend for so long—and they'd almost had a chance to become more. To become soulmates forever. But now it was all ruined. And if she couldn't be with him, she didn't want to be with anyone else.
“Um, Guinevere?” a male voice cut into the silence of the room. She whirled around, surprised; she hadn't heard anyone enter. A skinny black-haired boy with a pock-marked face hovered in the doorway, looking awkward and uncomfortable.
“Yes?” she asked, rising to her feet.
“I was sent to find you,” he told her. “Arthur wants to talk to you.”
Guinevere's heart leapt to her throat. “He does?” she asked, her voice barely over a whisper. She told herself she shouldn't get her hopes up—that he probably just wanted to yell at her some more. But at least it would give her a chance to urge him to go home. To not let others suffer because of her mistake.
The boy nodded. “He's in the auditorium,” he explained. “I can take you to him.”
“Thank you,” she gushed, exiting the pew and following him out the door. “I really appreciate you coming and telling me.” She paused. “What's your name?”
“Mortimer,” the boy replied, his face coloring to a pink blush. He shifted from foot to foot. “Um, so yeah, let's go.”
Guinevere practically skipped down the hall as she followed Mortimer to the auditorium. Her mind raced with what she should say to Arthur. Should she beg forgiveness? Try to explain what had really happened? Or just urge him to keep with the plan of going home? Maybe she should follow his lead. See what he had to say before saying anything herself. Who knew? Maybe he'd already talked to Lucas, who'd cleared things up. Maybe he had already forgiven her.
Oh she hoped so! She really hoped so.
Mortimer stopped in front of a set of double doors, a sign proclaiming AUDITORIUM above them. He gestured with his hand. “After you,” he said.
Guinevere thanked him and pulled open the door, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “Arthur?” she called out as she stepped into the darkened room. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Suddenly the door slammed shut behind her and a spotlight clicked on, illuminating a lone figure on the stage. She swallowed hard as she realized it wasn't Arthur at all.
It was Morgan Le Fay.
Chapter 41
Mortimer grinned as he shoved Guinevere down the aisle and toward the stage where Morgan was waiting for them. His goddess was going to be so proud when she heard what he'd done. If only she could have seen Arthur's face when he watched the video and learned of his precious girlfriend's betrayal. Finally, he'd achieved the ultimate revenge. He only wished he could tell Arthur that it was little old him who brought him to his knees. Mortimer. A boy not to be crossed.
“Don't touch me!” Guinevere growled, giving him a dirty look. “I can walk fine myself.” And with that, she headed down the aisle and toward the stage, her head held high and her shoulders squared. She looked up at Morgan and scowled. “So you've caught me,” she said. “Though little good it will do you now.”
“Oh I think it'll do a lot of good,” Morgan purred, rubbing her hands together in delight. Mortimer shivered. She was so beautiful. So awesome. He couldn't wait to start dating her. He imagined the looks on the other kids' faces when he walked down the halls with her by his side. No one would ever laugh at him again. “After all, Arthur's not about to go back home without his precious Guinevere.”
“Maybe that was true,” Guinevere shot back. “Until he saw the video, that is. Now he wants nothing to do with me. You might as well kidnap Mortimer here instead, for all the good it will do you.”
Morgan's eyes narrowed. “Video?” she repeated slowly. “What video?”
“My video!” Mortimer chirped up, pride washing over him as he skipped past the princess and toward the stage. “Of Guinevere here, kissing Arthur’s best friend! I got it all on tape and put it up on YouTube, then texted it to everyone.” He laughed gleefully, remembering all the shocked faces. “You should have seen Arthur! He was devastated! The laughing stock of the entire school!”
He beamed up at his goddess, ready for her to sing his praises, to tell him how amazing he was for pulling off such an awesome stunt. But, to his surprise, instead her eyes locked on him in fury.
“What's wrong?” he asked, taking a hesitant step backwards as Morgan's gaze continued to burn into him with the intensity of a thousand suns. He squirmed uncomfortably. “I thought you'd be pleased.”
“You stupid fool!” she growled. “If Arthur is angry at Guinevere, how am I supposed to get him to trade the scabbard in exchange for her life?”
Mortimer looked at her, scratching his head in confusion. “What scabbard? What are you talking about? I thought you just wanted to embarrass him.”
“No,” Guinevere interjected. “She wants to kill him.”
Mortimer stared at Arthur's girlfriend in shock. She was joking, right? She had to be. After all, they'd just been playing some simple pranks—to put Arthur back in his place. There was no way Morgan actually wanted to . . .
“I don't understand,” he whimpered.
“Of course you don't!” Morgan snarled. “You're an idiot and a fool. Here I thought you could be trusted with something simple, but you've managed to ruin everything instead. No wonder no one likes you! Who would want to be friends with someone as stupid as you?”
Her words stabbed at Mortimer and he stumbled backwards from their impact. All his dreams of popularity, of a girlfriend, of a place on the football team—all coming to a screeching halt. She was right; he was a fool. And an idiot. To believe a girl like her would actually like a boy like him.
She'd used him. Plain and simple. And he'd fallen for it all.
Morgan scowled, pacing the stage in frustration. Then she looked down at Guinevere. “Well, no matter,” she declared. “Even if Arthur doesn't want you back, you're still worth something to me. If only to take you back to my castle to kill you for fun.”
“You can have your fun,” Guinevere declared bravely. “But you will never have Arthur.”
Mortimer gulped, staring from one girl to the other and back again, fear tripping down his spine. “Tell me this is part of the school play,” he stammered. “Or some kind of role-playing LARP?”
Guinevere turned to him, her eyes pleading, making his blood run cold. Suddenly he knew, without a doubt, that this was no joke. No school play.
“Go to Arthur,” she begged. “Tell him he has to go home. To take the throne. No matter what happens, he must become king—”
“Silence!” Morgan cried, and at that moment the room exploded in a blast of purple smoke, blinding Mortimer and sending him to his knees. He coughed violently, trying to clear the thick air from his lungs. When the smoke cleared, he looked around the room, realizing he was all alone. That Morgan and Guinevere had disappeared.
“Oh no,” he whispered hoarsely. “What have I done?”
Chapter 42
Where was he? Sophie glanced up at the library clock for the tenth time, then at the door. Didn't he realize how short on time they were? If Arthur missed his big meeting with the tribal lords that afternoon, that was it. It would be too late. The Saxons would win the war, history would be altered forever, and Stu would never have a chance to come back home. She paced the library floor, wringing her hands. Come on, Arthur!
Maybe she should have gone with him when he left to find Guinevere—refused to let him out of her sight. But he'd seemed so pas
sionate—so determined to make good on his promise to fulfill his destiny, she'd figured she'd give him the benefit of the doubt.
Had it been a mistake?
At least she could get all prepared for when they did return, she decided, settling back down at the computer she'd signed out. No need to Google this address—she knew the website by heart.
>>http://www.thecamelotcode.com
Clicking enter, she leaned back in her chair, waiting for the page to load. But instead of the familiar blank page with the web counter she'd seen before, she got an unexpected message.
Webpage Not Found
Wait, what? That wasn't right. Maybe she'd typed the URL in wrong. She tried again, this time being careful to type in every letter correctly. But no luck.
Webpage Not Found
She swallowed hard, her mind spinning as she stared at the message. This couldn't be. It was impossible and yet . . . here it was. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through old texts to find the one Merlin had sent her with the web address. But in her heart, she knew, even as she searched, that she hadn't gotten the website wrong.
The website no longer existed.
Time had changed. History had changed. And in this new world she was living in, the website Merlin had created to serve as a magical time travel portal to bring Arthur home was no longer there. Meaning no matter how much Arthur wanted to go back, he couldn't.
And everything would end up like Wikipedia said it would.
She moaned, sweat breaking out on her forehead as she tried the webpage one more time. Maybe something was wrong. Maybe the DSL was down. But no, the other pages loaded up perfectly. This one just wasn't there.
“No!” she cried. “This can't be happening.” She banged her head on the keyboard in frustration. How could she have gotten this close—only to have yet another door slam in her face? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.
Stu, I'm sorry, she thought, her brain once again envisioning her friend being eaten alive by flames as he stood tied to a stake. I really tried. I don't know what else I can do.
She squeezed her eyes shut in agony. She needed to think—to come up with a plan. But they were running out of time. She'd been so busy, she realized, concentrating on getting Arthur to go home that she'd taken for granted that the actual process for getting him back would be simple. But evidently not so much.
She loaded up Explorer again, this time typing in the Camelot's Honor webpage. Maybe if she downloaded the game onto the school computer somehow, she could reach Merlin and he'd tell her what to do. But that webpage was gone as well. And there was no record on the net of a game called Camelot's Honor ever existing at all.
She groaned. It made sense, she supposed. After all, if there was no King Arthur in this new world, then there would be no game centered around his life. Meaning her only connection to medieval times had been shredded forever.
As she stared at the computer screen miserably, a tall shadow crossed behind her. The librarian, she guessed, coming to complain about her outburst. She sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she muttered, before the librarian could reprimand her. “I'll be quiet. I'm just having a tough time here.”
“That's what I heard,” replied the figure behind her, in a strangely familiar-sounding voice. One Sophie hadn't heard in the last five—
“Mom?” she cried, spinning around in her chair, her heart in her throat and her eyes bulging from her head as they fell upon the tall blond woman looking down at her with a sympathetic smile. “Is it really you?”
Chapter 43
Arthur plopped down onto the locker room bench, his heart heavy and his mind tormented. He knew he had to get to Sophie—that time was of the essence, but at the same time, he couldn't just leave things here in such a mess.
Half of him wanted to believe the video was a fake. Lucas had told him that video could be manipulated—made to look like something it wasn't. But, at the same time, he'd seen the stricken look on Guinevere's face. And she hadn't denied that it happened.
How could she do this to him? How could she betray him for another—no, not just another! His best friend! It hurt more than he could bear. It was hard to believe how excited he'd been just a few minutes before—imagining a whole future with her by his side. He could have faced it all—even death—if he'd known that she loved him and would be there for him till the end.
But now, what was left? He'd fulfill his destiny, sure. Too many people were counting on him to just walk away. But how could he enjoy any of it, knowing he'd lost his true love?
“Hey, I thought I might find you here,” said a voice behind him.
He whirled around to see Lucas enter the locker room. Arthur felt his hands involuntarily clench into fists. Half of him wanted to reach over and strangle the boy who was supposed to be his friend. But at the same time, how could he blame him? History was playing out exactly as it was supposed to. Lucas was only a pawn in destiny's game. And if Guinevere really loved him more than Arthur? Well, who was he to stand in their way? More than anything in the world, he wanted her to be happy. And if she was happy with Lucas, then he needed to face that reality along with the rest.
“Hey,” he said with a heavy sigh.
“Look, man, I want you to know—that video? Don't blame Guin for that. It was all me,” Lucas rambled on, looking distressed and guilty. “And I never would have done it if I'd known the two of you were together. You're my friend and friends don't do that to each other.”
“I don't blame you,” Arthur replied, staring down at his hands. “Guinevere is beautiful and wonderful. Of course you'd want to kiss her. I'd be surprised if you didn't.”
“Still—” Lucas tried, his face full of agony. “I never would have—”
Arthur held up a hand. “It's okay,” he assured his friend. “I don't hold you to blame for any of it, believe me. But I do have a favor to ask of you, if you're willing.”
“Of course! Anything, man,” Lucas replied, looking extremely relieved. “Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just tell me what you need.”
Arthur swallowed hard, his heart aching. He knew what he was about to say was for the best, but it didn't make saying the words any less painful.
“I have to go away,” he informed his friend. “I have to go home. And well, I was wondering if you could look after Guinevere for me once I'm gone.”
Lucas shook his head, looking at Arthur in confusion. “What are you talking about? You're leaving? Since when?”
Arthur shrugged. “It's a long story. I can't really explain. But I want you to know I appreciate all you did for me while I was here. You're a good person with a noble heart. You took me in when I had no place to go. You gave me a place to live, a reason to stay. I've made so many memories here—and I'll never forget them. But now it's time to move on.” He gave his friend a sad smile. “And I can only do that with a clear heart if know that Guinevere is safe.”
Lucas stared at him for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off by a crashing noise by the locker room door.
“It's too late!” Mortimer cried, bursting into the room. “She's already taken her.”
Arthur looked up at Mortimer, his heart in his throat. “What did you say?” he asked in a whisper.
Mortimer hung his head. “I'm so sorry,” he cried. “I only wanted to get back at you for stealing my spot on the team. I had no idea what she was really up to.”
Arthur was on his feet, grabbing Mortimer by the shoulders. “What who was up to?” he demanded. “Where's Guinevere?”
“Morgan took her,” he confessed. “Back to her castle or something. She said if you don't want to trade the scabbard for her, then she'd kill her for fun.”
Arthur released Mortimer, sinking down onto the bench, unable to trust his feet. In fact, it was hard even to breathe. This couldn't be happening. Not now. But there was no way Mortimer could have made something like this up. It had to be true. He imagined his princess, chained hand and foot in a dar
k dungeon back in medieval times. Morgan stepping toward her, hands gripping a silver knife.
“Um, what are you guys talking about?” Lucas asked nervously.
“Oh, and I wanted to show you this,” Mortimer added, ignoring Lucas. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “The video you saw, well, you didn't see the whole thing.” He pressed a button and Arthur was treated to another viewing of Lucas and Guin's kiss. He started to turn away.
“Keep watching,” Mortimer urged him.
Arthur forced his eyes back on the phone. To his surprise he saw Guin break away from the kiss, her face awash in horror.
“I love Arthur with all my heart.”
The words were simple, but they made his heart soar. How could he have ever thought of leaving her behind—that she would be better off without him? She loved him! She hadn't betrayed him at all! The Google was wrong. Everyone was wrong. He should have trusted his heart from the beginning.
The video continued. “I would die for him if need be,” he heard her declare.
He rose to his feet, squaring his shoulders and firming his resolve. “Well, Guin, that's not going to happen,” he declared. “Not under my watch.” He started out of the locker room.
“Where are you going?” Lucas called out after him.
“To find Sophie,” he said staunchly. “And to save Guinevere's life.”
Chapter 44
“Mom? Is that really you?”
It was a dumb question; though Sophie hadn't seen her mother in five years, there was no mistaking the woman standing in the library, looking down at her. She was exactly the same—as if she hadn't aged a day in the last five years. Same beautiful, long blond hair, same serene blue eyes. Even her face had remained ageless, without any of the lines and wrinkles Sophie's friends' mothers had at the corners of their eyes.
Unable to restrain herself, Sophie flew from her chair and into her mother's arms, squeezing her as tightly as she could, as tears streamed down her cheeks.