What I agreed to, I may never know.
Beyond the transparent bejeweled walls were blue skies and white clouds. Birds flew over distant tree tops. High above, a single source of light shone brightly down, touching everything, infusing everything. But it was more than just light.
It was everything.
And from this light I sensed the greatest of love, a love so powerful that I began to weep. And as I wept, the light in the sky pulsated and grew in size, spreading across the heavens, streaming in through the transparent walls, surrounding me. As it enveloped me, I heard singing - beautiful, sweet singing - and I knew that all the angels of heaven were praising God, and that I was home.
Finally home.
But I wasn't ready to stay.
No, not yet.
Chapter Forty-two
I awoke slowly to the sounds of clashing swords.
Someone shouted something angrily. Someone answered, although much more calmly. I wanted both of them to shut the hell up and give my aching head a break.
I tried opening my eyes but they didn't want to work. I tried again - and this time piercing light stabbed straight through to the back of my skull. I groaned.
God, my head hurt.
Movement just above me. A shadow passing before the light. Something touching my face. Something soft and tender.
Fingers.
More fighting. More shouts. More pain in my head. I heard many voices. Metal clanging against metal. My brain clanging against my skull.
The Hall of Enlightenment. My new friends. My old friends. The dragon. Flying. It all came rushing back to me.
They - my guides and friends - were going to tell me something. Something important. A secret. The reason for my entire existence. And, yes, they had indeed told me. I know they had, but...nothing. The memory was gone.
I groaned.
"Come back to me, James," said a voice over me. A female voice. A soft voice. A voice full of warmth and love and...panic.
I shifted my focus to her.
"Come on, James. You can do it."
Something was hovering above me. Something oval and white and damn beautiful.
I blinked and refocused and then I saw that it was Marion. There was blood on her face. She tried to smile down at me, but she was too distracted by something going on nearby.
And then she turned to her right and screamed.
Chapter Forty-three
Yeah, my head hurt. Yeah, I was still confused as hell. Yeah, I wished I was still surrounded in that loving warm light. And, yeah, I even wished I was still flying in blissful tranquility side by side with the dragon, crazy as that sounds.
But with Marion's scream, well, that all went out the window.
I bolted upright and immediately fought a sickening wave of nausea. I forced my eyes to work, forced them to adjust to my surroundings. Blurry images came into view. Two hazy figures were currently engaged in a strange sort of give-and-take dance: spinning, lunging, swinging.
Metal clashed; sparks erupted.
No, not a dance. Swordplay. Ferocious swordplay. And as I thought this, my memory came rushing back to me: the chapel, Arthur, Excalibur, Merlin.
Metal clashed again. Someone grunted and Marion screamed again. I ignored the pain in my head, leaped to my feet, and promptly vomited.
When I was done retching, I finally saw who was fighting whom.
* * *
Arthur and Merlin were in the middle of what could only be described as an epic battle.
Swords flashed and blurred. Bodies spun, contorted, and moved in mind-boggling ways. Arthur, I saw, was cut in many places and covered in his own blood; he seemed to be weakening. Merlin, unscathed, was grinning and full of confidence.
Although Arthur fought with the great Excalibur, it was Merlin who clearly had the upper hand. Upper hand, of course, was used figuratively here, since no hand appeared to be holding Merlin's sword.
Indeed, his sword hovered before him, flashing impossibly fast. Nearly too fast for my eyes to follow. How Arthur kept up with the sword, I had no idea.
Merlin himself was able to keep out of harm's way by being physically unattached to his sword. A neat trick. Arthur wasn't so lucky. His face and arms were crisscrossed with fresh wounds.
The fighting continued across the chapel. Sparks showered down in a brilliant display. Merlin's men watched from the dark corners of the abbey. Many were wounded, the result of Arthur's prowess with the sword, no doubt, and perhaps my own blind luck from earlier.
Marion and I stood together upon the raised altar. Or, more accurately, she stood and I leaned against her. She covered her mouth as she watched the fighting, screaming each time Arthur was slashed.
My strength was returning, quickly, although a lot of good that did Arthur. Still, I might be useful as a diversion perhaps. Something, anything.
A break in the fighting, both fighters pausing. Arthur seemed relieved and sucked in great lungsful of air, oblivious to his own wounds, which streamed blood down his arms, chest and torso. His shoes, I saw, were spilling over in his own blood, sloshing as if he had come in from the rain.
I took in some air, felt a curious strength radiate from the floor and up along my spine. I found my own sword, although I doubted it would be of any use against Merlin's own enchanted sword.
Still, I had to do something. I couldn't let my new friend die.
Both men were now circling each other. Merlin had a whimsical smile on his face, humor in his eyes. Arthur, to my shock, had the same expression, although much bloodier.
My God, he is having fun!
Arthur glanced my way and saw me for the first time. He gave me a small, imperceptible nod.
Welcome back, James. Have a nice nap?
You're hurt, I thought.
Nonsense. Just having a little fun.
Arthur turned back to Merlin. As he did so, the two fighters picked up on a conversation that I had obviously missed a part of, a conversation that I suspected Arthur wanted me to hear.
"Like I was saying, my old friend," he was saying to Merlin. "You have life backward."
"Oh? How so?" asked the wizard. Merlin kept his hands angled down, palms open, perhaps a wizarding method of controlling the enchanted sword. I sensed, though, that one of the dark creatures contained within his black cloak was handling the sword. Perhaps many such dark creatures.
"You seek to take from life," said Arthur, keeping his sword steady before him. Considering all of his injuries, I wondered how steady his sword would have been if it hadn't been Excalibur. "When, in fact, you should give to life."
The two men turned again. Parry, block, counter-parry. Spin. Slash. A dance of death.
"And what do you suggest I give?"
"Anything. Time. Energy. Money. But most of all your love."
"You forgot to mention life," said Merlin.