18. Will
Chapter eighteen
Will
Is it normal for your brother to gesture at you with a penis?
M organa laughed as I stumbled back. But no matter how hard I sought for it, my magic was all used up.
Something struck me. And at first, I didn’t feel anything. Just pressure against my chest.
Everything slowed as I glanced down, and confusion filled me upon seeing the hilt of a dagger protruding from between my ribs. Blood poured from the wound, and pain like nothing I’d ever felt caused my legs to give out. Dropping to my knees, I tried to breathe, tried to think past the immense agony. But I couldn’t suck in a breath, couldn’t think past the roar in the air as Morgana stepped forward to loom over me.
And as I fell back into some shallow water, her dark eyes glittered with triumph. “Fitting that you should die in the same spot he did ... ”
My head was absolutely throbbing when I startled awake, and even if it wasn’t for the fire alarm going off and the shouts of my family somewhere outside my room, I still wouldn’t have been able to fall back asleep.
Not after that vision.
Did I just see myself die?
My head pounded as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The vision lingered, but as I blinked my eyes open, I stilled. Because I didn’t recognize any of my surroundings.
Sitting up slowly, I groaned. Because everything fucking ached. What the hell?
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Gerry said, scaring the shit out of me.
It took me a moment to spot him, but I found him back in his cat form, soaking up the heat of the sun from the window ledge.
“Why does everything hurt?”
“Probably because you jumped from the top of a cathedral and pushed your magic to its limits.”
I stared at him, my brain still too foggy to compute his words. But then I remembered Thiten and Thiton’s attack on Arthur and me in Salisbury.
Gazing down at my arm, the burn had been wrapped with a cloth smelling heavily of one of Otto’s healing tonics. And when I shifted to a sitting position, I hissed as the pain in my shoulder stung like a motherfucker.
That’s right. Arthur bit me. Now, I didn’t mind biting in the right context, but that was so not fun.
My shoulder too had been wrapped like my wrist, though not very well. Still, I appreciated the thought.
“Is everyone okay?”
Gerry hummed as he mulled that over. “Define okay.”
“Gerry...”
He rolled his eyes, and when he tsked, his tongue slithered out. “Relax, Lord Will. Your family is fine. Though, that king of yours has been going a little... mad, and has already broken several things in this Airbnb because he’s struggled to keep his curse under control. He’s barely left your side while you’ve been unconscious.”
“Where is he now?” I asked, pushing to my feet with a wince.
“The kitchen with the others.”
I nodded and left the bedroom to go in search of Arthur and my family.
It seemed we were in a small, single-story home with faded, floral wallpaper, which was actually quite charming. I passed a small linen closet and a bathroom with a pink tub. Little figurines lined some hanging shelves in the hallway, and I passed several cracked mirrors as I followed the sound of voices and laughter.
Peeking into the kitchen where I heard voices, I found the others hanging out around the table, food and papers scattered messily over its surface.
The room still stank of smoke, despite the breeze wafting in from the open kitchen windows. At least, the fire alarm had stopped.
I was about to take a step into the room when my dad shifted out of the way, revealing Arthur.
Seated in a wooden chair on the left side of the table, Arthur frowned down at a sheet of paper. He was dressed in a pair of low-slung, gray sweatpants and a simple white tee that was apparently several sizes too small for his massive chest. I mean, I could see nipples through the fabric.
If I wasn’t so absolutely exhausted, I was pretty sure my dick would have made an effort to rise.
Thank Jesus, Mary, and Joseph for small miracles.
But Arthur must have sensed... something, because those green eyes snapped over to me suddenly, finding me lurking in the doorway of the kitchen.
I couldn’t look away.
A current of something passed between us, stealing the air from my lungs.
“Will, you’re awake!” Dorothy said in relief, breaking the moment between Arthur and me. She shoved out of her chair to hurry over to where I still leaned. Her warm hands clasped my cheeks, turning my face from side to side as if checking me over. “Are you feeling okay?”
I laughed, a little embarrassed by her display of concern and gently removed her hands. “I’m fine. Just a little sore.”
“Are you hungry?” my dad asked, gesturing to some blackened grilled cheeses. He grinned. “Arthur helped me make them.”
Ah, that made more sense.
“I’d love one,” I said, and Arthur almost seemed to preen.
There was an open seat beside Arthur, and I moved toward him while my dad grabbed me a plate. I noticed the paper on the table in front of Arthur and cocked my head. Had my family been helping him make a DnD character?
“Where are we?” I asked, sitting gingerly on the seat. Fuck, why did my ass and thighs hurt so damn much?
Otto tossed me his phone so I could see the map. “We’re only a couple of hours drive from St. Nectan’s Glen and Tintagel.”
Arthur startled at that, shifting his gaze off me to the phone. “Tintagel?”
Otto nodded. “Legends say that’s where you were born.”
He stared at Otto’s phone in my hands now with more interest. “It was. It was also a large trade port.”
“What’s so cool about the other place?” Gerry asked, his head cocked.
“It’s where several of my knights and I received a blessing from the fae who dwelled there before we started our hunt for the Holy Grail,” Arthur said, looking thoughtful.
“And apparently, some people have claimed they’ve seen your ghosts wandering around the Glen,” Otto said, rolling his eyes, though Arthur shifted uncomfortably at his words.
When my dad placed a grilled cheese sandwich, a glass of water, and a pain pill down in front of me, I nearly cried in relief. “I get that I used my magic, but why in the world is my butt so sore?”
“It could be from riding on Llamrei,” Arthur mused, nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, and a crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth. I was so distracted by that dang crumb that I almost forgot about what he’d said.
“Llamrei? Like, your horse?”
Something sad and wistful entered his gaze, and he nodded. “Yes, I called her back using the Halter’s power. Just for a small while.”
I vaguely recalled coarse, white hair beneath my hand. Blurred greens and blues as we sped past the scenery. A giddy yip on the breeze.
“And you were able to summon her? Even though she’s...” My words tapered off when I realized how insensitive I sounded, but Arthur only nodded.
Well, that was unexpected, but I smiled at the happy look on his face.
“How soon do you think we can get on the road?” I asked the group, popping the pain pill into my mouth and chasing it with water.
“You’re joking, right?” Otto asked, snatching back his phone.
“No,” I said, tearing into my sandwich with a moan. Fuck, I loved cheese.
Arthur shifted slightly in his seat, and when I glanced at him, his freckled cheeks were warm and he wasn’t looking at me.
Otto huffed in annoyance, making me look back at him. “You just woke up after being unconscious for three fucking days, and you just want to head out?”
“Yeah?” I bit off another bite of my sandwich. Damn, this thing might have been burnt to a crisp, but I was pretty sure it was the best fucking grilled cheese I’d ever had.
Or maybe that was because I apparently hadn’t eaten in three days.
“Will,” Dorothy said gently, concern in her gaze. “Are you sure you shouldn’t rest some more? You’re still injured.”
My dad nodded his agreement with her. “I think we should wait until you’re fully healed before we head out. You don’t want to risk being ambushed again when you’re not at your full strength.”
“I’ll be fine. Just let me eat something, drink some more healing tonics, and I’ll be good as new.” But before I could take another bite of my grilled cheese, there was a flash. I jerked back with a yelp as heat seared my eyebrows, and I dropped my sandwich in alarm. I already knew what I’d find, or wouldn’t find, when I reached up to my eyebrows. “What is it with this family and eyebrows?” I squawked, scowling at Otto who’d been the one to hex me, and I was already preparing my retribution. Because drinking a hair growth elixir sucked, and he fucking knew it. “What the hell was that for?”
“For being stupid,” he said, flipping me off.
Arthur leaned closer to me to whisper in my ear. “Is it normal for your brother to gesture at you with a penis?”
But of course everyone heard him.
Otto wheezed, Dorothy covered her face, my dad choked on his water, and Gerry and Nana cackled together.
“What?” I spluttered, which only made Arthur frown.
“Forgive me, but gesturing at someone with your middle finger makes it look like a phallus with the fingers beside it the testicles; it was a very sexually aggressive sign in my time.”
Everyone in the room immediately started flipping themselves off as they tried to see what he was talking about.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Nana said, still chortling. “It really does look like a dick and balls.”
“I take it that it doesn’t hold the same meaning now?” Arthur asked, face bright red.
I shook my head, trying to recount all the times one of us had flipped the other off in his presence before now.
It was a lot.
“Now, it’s usually used to display annoyance or anger at someone or something,” Dorothy said helpfully, and Arthur nodded graciously.
“Ah, that makes much more sense.”
And then he flipped off the fire alarm.
I patted his arm. “Good job. You nailed it.”
Arthur beamed.
“So, are we going to St. Nectan’s first or Tintagel?” I asked, taking another sip of water. Then another and another because I was apparently thirstier than I’d realized.
But when the entire room looked at me with reproachful expressions, I hesitated. “What?”
“Will,” Dorothy said slowly, “you almost died.”
“‘Almost’ being the important word there.”
A bang reverberated through the room as my dad threw the frying pan down into the sink. He didn’t look at me as he gripped the edge of it, his muscles tense. “No.”
“Dad?”
He looked at me then, and I saw the frustration and pain in his haunted eyes, the fear. My dad had only looked at me once this way. That day when I was eight and had taken off the ring. “We agreed to help you on this quest, William. We knew it would be dangerous and that we were underprepared for what was yet to come, but we were willing to do it. For you. But we didn’t agree to let you be reckless and purposefully put yourself in harm's way. Especially not if we could avoid it.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “So that’s why we’re going to rest here until you’re healed, and not a moment sooner. Do you understand me?”
I swallowed down a mixture of annoyance and love for this man who cared so damn much for me. Because as much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. I’d almost died. Arthur had almost died. We hadn’t been prepared for the queens’ powers in Salisbury, and it had almost cost us our lives in that tower.
Moving forward, we’d need to be better prepared. As much as I wanted to find the Treasures and the Grail, we needed to be careful.
And as I mulled that over, taking in every person in the room from Arthur’s silent, watchful gaze, to Otto’s narrowed eyes and crossed arms, to Dorothy’s hands where she picked at her cuticles with worry, over to Nana’s pursed lips, then down to Gerry who was... licking his dicks, a plan started taking root in my mind.
“You’re right,” I said, watching the tension leave my dad. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“I’ll always worry about you,” he said wetly. “You’re my son.”
“You were also right that we were underprepared,” I said, thinking back to the incredible force of Thiten and Thiton’s magic. How combined, I’d barely been able to fight them off. And I was pretty sure if they hadn’t wanted to mess around with Arthur and me, they would have been able to kill us easily. “So I think we should consider learning to fight. Both physically and with more advanced magic.”
My parents frowned at me, though Nana and Otto seemed interested in my words.
I glanced toward Arthur. “If you could teach us some basic combat skills, I think it will help our chances moving forward.”
Arthur seemed unsure as we all turned to look at him. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” he said carefully.
“Okay, so we learn combat skills. Great. But who would teach us magic?” my dad asked. “We don’t have most of our books, nor do I feel comfortable asking for help from any conclaves. We don’t know them, nor do we have the proper time to get to know them.”
“I know,” I agreed, turning my attention to the cat in the process of licking his balls. “That’s why I was going to ask Gerry to teach us.”
Gerry stopped licking himself to send me an incredulous look. “Me?”
I shrugged. “Out of all of us, you have the most history with advanced magic. So it would make sense for you to teach us.”
“But my magic is very different from yours,” he protested. “Mine is sourced from Hell. Even if I showed you some spells, there’s no certainty they’d work for you.”
“Well,” I said, glancing around the room. “There’s only one way to find out.”
For the next couple of weeks, after I’d healed enough, we trained with Arthur and Gerry.
Arthur spent his days from early morning until the sun waned teaching us all the skills he knew. While Gerry took over our training in the evenings, teaching us magic that would have had us kicked out of most conclaves.
During Arthur’s lessons, he had to consider each person’s strengths, as well as their limitations. For Dorothy, who was petite in height and weight, she needed ways to counteract an opponent larger and stronger than herself. For her, he’d opted to teach her how to combat with a spear, considering its long reach and lightweight nature. For Nana, who had limited mobility and strength, he’d also recommended a spear, but Nana had refused. Instead, she’d pulled out a small pistol from her fucking pocket and held it in the air. How the hell she’d been able to smuggle that here, I didn’t know.
For my dad, Otto, and me, he’d focused on swordplay. Though, instead of actual swords, we used sticks, and Otto had taken great joy in smacking me with his stick, something we’d done a lot as children.
Arthur had needed to teach us all the basics of combat. Like proper posture and stances to better hold our ground. The way to grip our weapons and the correct footwork. It was tedious, but I saw the determination in everyone’s eyes as we fought off our exhaustion, worked through the burn and ache in our bones and muscles.
But we knew this was important. That if we wanted any chance to succeed against the queens, then we needed to learn this.
Though a measly couple of weeks were nothing compared to the at least millennia and a half the fairy queens had on us. But ever since that day in Salisbury, something had changed within us.
However, the biggest change happened within Arthur. Almost like he’d found that purpose he’d been missing since reawakening, and it had made him all the more determined to help in any way he could.
It had been surreal, really. Being taught how to fight by a legendary king.
But that wasn’t the most surreal part of it all.
More often than not, I caught Arthur watching me. Me. Not the others.
At first, I’d written it off like I had prior times when I’d catch his gaze on me. Before, I’d always dismissed the looks as curiosity.
But the last two weeks had felt different.
When I swung my stick toward one of the mannequins Gerry had stolen from a shop in town for us to use for practice, I’d look over and find him staring at me, at my form. When I paused to drink some water, his gaze tracked each swallow. When I howled with victory after scoring a hit against one of the others, those green eyes roamed over my face.
It was intense, but... I found I liked the way he watched me. The way his eyes drank me in with something akin to desire.
Or maybe that was because I still couldn’t seem to remove him from my own fantasies. It didn’t help that even at this new Airbnb, we shared a room. Meaning I couldn’t exactly jerk off. I couldn’t risk it. Not even at night when his breathing had evened out.
Sexual frustration wasn’t the only issue I found myself with in the night, though.
Visions plagued my dreams. Fragmented visions of battles, of the Treasures, and once, a golden chalice adorned with rare gems.
But the thing that scared me most was the vision that began to occur more and more often.
The one where I peered down at my chest while blood soaked into my clothes from the black dagger.
I didn’t tell the others what I’d Seen, though I probably should have. But I knew if I did, they would have locked me up and hidden me far, far away, consequences be damned.
And there would have been consequences.
Without us to help him find the Grail, Arthur’s curse would become permanent and he would be lost to his beast. And I refused to let that happen. Even if it meant it could cost me my life.
Sometimes when the visions kept me from sleeping, I’d find myself using my phone’s flashlight to read more about the Treasures in the book we’d gotten from The Magic Shop. Sometimes I set up the pieces on the Chessboard, thinking back to the vision of Morgana and me and watched as a fight ensued on the board before one of the silver pieces threw a tiny knife at a crystal one.
But if anything, those visions only made me focus harder. Because like hell I’d just accept my death like that.
And despite the progress we made with our magic and combat training, our days weren’t all sunshine and rainbows. Some days, Arthur would get that far-off look in his eye that spoke of his past haunting him. There were even a few times we'd had to fight off his demon when it tried to break free of his hold. Once where he’d nearly managed to snap his lengthened canines into Gerry’s tail.
But each time, I was able to coax the beast back. Through soft words or touch. Either seemed to help soothe the demon. But there was a little flicker of fear that one day I wouldn’t be able to push the berserker back and someone would get hurt.
A fear I saw reflected in Arthur’s gaze each time as well.
But I’d meant what I’d said on the rooftop. I wouldn’t let his demon kill anyone else. Not if I could help it. But I’d begun to worry I wouldn’t be able to keep that promise, not after the queens had managed to nearly kill us in Salisbury.
But by the time we decided we were ready to venture out to St. Nectan’s Glen, my muscles aching from combat practice and new, dangerous spells running through my mind, I wondered if I might finally be capable of staying true to that promise.