The Camelot Code Read online

  THE CAMELOT CODE

  Mari Mancusi

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  About This Series

  About The Author

  Also by Mari Mancusi

  An Excerpt from Scorched

  To Jacob. All roads lead to Avalon.

  About The Camelot Code

  All fourteen-year-old gamer girl Sophie Sawyer wants to do is defeat Morgan Le Fay in her favorite Arthurian videogame. She has no idea the secret code sent via text message is actually a magical spell that will send her back in time to meet up with a real life King Arthur instead.

  Of course Arthur’s not king yet—he hasn’t pulled the sword from the stone—and he has no idea of his illustrious destiny. And when a twist of fate sends him forward in time—to modern day high school—history is suddenly in jeopardy. Even more so when Arthur Googles himself and realizes what lies in store for him if he returns to his own time—and decides he’d rather try out for the football team instead.

  Now Sophie and her best friend Stuart find themselves in a race against time—forced to use their 21st century wits to keep history on track, battle a real-life version of their favorite videogame villain, and get the once and future king back where he belongs. Or the world, as they know it, may no longer exist.

  Chapter 1

  The stench of death hung heavy in the air as the group made their way through the forbidden fortress. Dark shadows danced across battle-scarred walls while the windows rattled a warning. A nightmare scene fit to frighten off even the bravest of heroes, and Lady Bella knew she and her companions were far from that.

  Yet still they pressed on, through cobweb-draped halls, down crumbling stone steps. Ducking low-hanging archways, crossing rotted-out floors. Until the corridor dead-ended in a matching set of ironbound doors, looming tall and wide before them. The doorway to the sorceress’s chamber.

  A chill tripped down Lady Bella’s spine. This was it. This was really it.

  “We have fought long and hard, my friends,” Sir Melvin, the magician, proclaimed as he turned to them, a knowing smile ghosting his whiskered lips. “And at last, we stand at the doorway to our destiny.” He paused, looking them over. “Are you sure you’re ready? As you know, once the doors are opened, there is no turning back.”

  “Oh yeah, baby!” Lord Vanquish, the warrior, cheered, raising his flaming sword in a triumphant salute.

  Lady Bella flashed him a nervous smile as she readied her own gnarled wooden staff, which was crackling with magical energy. A good part of her wanted to take off running in the opposite direction and never look back, knowing all too well what they were about to unleash.

  But somehow she stood her ground. The entire kingdom was depending on them, she reminded herself. She couldn’t be selfish here.

  “Let’s do it,” she declared.

  “Very well,” Sir Melvin replied with a slow smile, flexing his healing hands as he mumbled protection spells under his breath. Then he paused, turning to her, his wizened blue eyes piercing her with a sudden strange intensity. “But before we enter, I must ask you one thing. Lady Bella,” he said. “One very, very important thing.”

  “Y . . . yes?” she whispered, drawing in a shaky breath, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. As if everything in her life thus far had been leading up to this one question. “What is it you want to ask me?”

  The magician regarded her solemnly. “Why haven’t you done the dishes yet?”

  Wait, what?

  “Sophie! I’m not going to ask you again!”

  Lady Bella, aka fourteen-year-old Sophie Sawyer, groaned as she yanked off her headphones and threw them down onto her computer desk. Seriously? Seriously? Shaking her head, she banged out a message to her friends.

  >>LadyBella: Hang on guys. I'm getting major stepmom aggro here. BRB.

  Putting Lady Bella on pause, she rose from her chair, walking around her unmade bed and toward her bedroom door. She had to admit, Cammy had a gift. A really, really annoying gift.

  She pulled open her door. “Sophie? Did you hear me?” her stepmom was still squawking from downstairs.

  Oh she’d heard her all right. All ten times in the past ten minutes. Problem was, she couldn’t exactly explain to the local high school cheer coach that though it might appear, to the un-geeked eye, that she was just sitting in her room messing around with her computer, she was actually in the middle of something pretty epic.

  And the dishes would have to wait.

  She stuck her head out the door. “I’ll be right down,” she yelled, hoping this assurance would soothe the savage stepmonster for a few more minutes. Or at least give them enough time to get through this last fight. The three of them had been building to this battle for over a year now, leveling up and gaining the skills and weapons it took to bring down the numero uno boss of Camelot’s Honor, Morgan Le Fay herself. She couldn’t log out now.

  Returning to her computer, she jammed the headphones back over her ears.

  >>LadyBella: Kk. I’m back. Let’s do this thing. Quick.

  Grabbing the mouse, she placed her character into position alongside her teammates, Lord Vanquish (her best friend Stuart Mallory) and SirMelvin01 (a surfer playing from somewhere out in California). Pressing a few hot keys, she prepped her shields, readying herself for the fight. As a shape-shifting druid, Lady Bella had the most important role in the battle. Also, the most difficult. According to the game’s wiki boards she needed to turn herself into a bird, then fly above the witch, disarming her force field before Morgan cast her annihilation spell. If she failed to do it in time, it was game over for sure.

  She gritted her teeth. But she’d practiced this. She would not fail.

  “Health potions, check. Mana, check,” she murmured as she scrolled through her inventory. Everything was in order. The stars were aligned . . .

  >>LordVanquish: Let’s do this, yo!

  They stepped through the doors and into the priestess's inner sanctum: a windowless chamber with black walls and high ceilings disappearing into the darkness. Swirling mist seemed to cling to the floors while tiny white candles scattered stars of light around the room—giving off a haunting illumination.

  Lady Bella drew in a shaky breath as Morgan Le Fay drifted out from the shadows, the music swelling in her wake. Draped in robes of black and gold, her shocking purple eyes seemed to burn right through them as her mouth twisted into a smug smile.

  “Foolish m
ortals,” she purred. “Do you really think you can defeat me?”

  “We know we can!” Lord Vanquish cried, charging into the room, swinging his sword with wild abandon. When he reached the witch, he slashed down at her, with a bite from his blade that should have cut her to the bone. Instead, the sword bounced harmlessly off her skin—a magical force field protecting her from harm.

  Morgan cackled, raising her hands above her head, a cloud of blackened smoke swirling around her as she drew energy from the elements to aid her cast. A fire-bolt shot from her fingertips, striking Lord Vanquish square in the chest. Only Melvin's lightning fast heal succeeded in keeping him upright.

  Melvin turned to Bella. “Now!” he cried.

  Bella nodded, sucking in a breath before uttering the magical words to turn herself into an eagle. Then, beating her wings, she took flight, soaring high into the rafters before dipping down to survey the scene below. She locked upon a small tear in Morgan's shield. The one weakness—sure to bring the witch down. She began her descent, heart slamming against her ribcage, ready to—

  “You better not be playing that videogame!” Cammy cried, bursting into the room. Startled, Sophie knocked the mouse with her hand and the game spun, completely distorting her perspective. By the time she regained control, Lady Bella was on the ground. Dead. Along with Lord Vanquish and Sir Melvin. Utterly annihilated.

  “No!” Sophie cried, staring at the screen in dismay. “You killed me.”

  Cammy rolled her eyes. “Not yet. But your father will once I tell him you’ve been up here all day wasting time on your computer again when you haven’t even done your chores.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now get downstairs.”

  Sophie slumped. “Can I at least say goodbye to Stu first?”

  Cammy frowned, looking as if she wanted to argue, before likely remembering what her shrink had told her about “respecting her stepdaughter’s boundaries.” She sighed. “Fine. Five minutes. Then I want you off the computer for the rest of the day. No arguments.”

  And with that, she spun out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Sophie could hear her loud footsteps as she clomped down the stairs in a pair of heavy high heels.

  Awesome.

  Leaning back in her chair, she scrubbed her face with her hands. Lady Bella now stood resurrected in the graveyard next to Lord Vanquish and Sir Melvin. Alive again, but all for nothing. They'd been defeated and the online game wouldn't give them another chance at slaying the sorceress for the next five days.

  Her phone started ringing. She didn't have to look at the caller ID.

  “I know, I know,” she said as she answered.

  “What happened? You totally had it!” Stu cried on the other line. She could hear the disappointment in his voice. Stupid Cammy. She had no idea how her interruption of Sophie's virtual world affected other people's real lives.

  “What can I say? Stepmom has an epic finishing move.” She stared glumly at the screen, where Melvin was saying goodbye as he prepared to sign out of the game. She quickly private messaged him an apology. After all, the guy was a good player and had become an online friend, even though neither she nor Stu had ever met him in real life. She didn't want him to get annoyed at her and decide to leave their guild.

  “You can say you're getting a lock on your door for a start.”

  Sophie snorted. “Like my dad's going to allow that.” She pressed a hot key, bringing up Lady Bella's Pegasus mount, then started her flight back to the main city of Camelot. “Don't worry, I'll think of something before Friday.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line and for a moment she thought they’d been disconnected. Then, “Friday?” Stu asked.

  “Yeah, you know, we have to wait until the dungeon resets before we can try again,” she said, surprised at having to explain. Stu was the ultimate expert on everything Camelot related. In fact, he spent more time on the wiki boards learning the fights than doing his homework.

  “I know, but . . . couldn’t we do it on Saturday instead?”

  “Actually no. They’re doing that patching, remember?” she said, again surprised at having to remind him. “The servers are going to be offline all weekend. It's Friday or never.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “What do you have against Friday? You got a hot date or something?”

  It was a joke, of course. Stu had a totally dedicated relationship with his souped-up Alienware computer, always swearing “she” was the only woman who really understood him.

  “I don’t know. I thought you wanted to go to that dance or whatever.”

  Sophie bit her lower lip. Oh, that.

  She'd actually been hoping Stu would forget about the dance. In hindsight, she should have never told him about it. She'd just been so excited when she got the flyer last month—announcing the annual Snowflake Dance at Sacred Mary High—that she'd babbled on and on about it to anyone who would listen for at least a week. And evidently Stu had remembered.

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The year’s very first dance—and a formal one, too. And while Sophie wasn't your typical girlie girl looking for any excuse to don a dress, there was something embarrassingly enticing about this particular event.

  Maybe it was because of her mom. There was nothing her mother had loved more than a formal ball, and Sophie spent hours in the bathroom as a kid, watching her mother primp for one big event or another. Her mother was always beautiful, with long blond hair and sparkling blue eyes and a tall, slender frame. But on these nights, when she slid on a glittery floor-length gown, her hair piled atop her head with blond ringlets framing her face, she looked like an angel from heaven. And the look in her father's eyes when he gazed upon his breathtaking wife . . . well, Sophie could only hope that a boy would look at her like that one day.

  And so she'd let her imagination run wild, picturing the perfect white knight escorting her to the dance, just like her dad used to escort her mom. He'd sweep her off her feet and onto the dance floor, where they'd spend the entire night gazing into each other's eyes. Then, just before eleven, when the final song would play, the chivalrous knight would give her a single perfect kiss on the lips. Just as her father had given her mother on the night they first met. The night, her mother told her, they first fell in love.

  Problem was, outside of her dear old dad, white knights were evidently a dying breed. And now, less than a week away from the dance, no one had asked her to go. Everyone else seemed to have already paired up and her friends spent lunchtime chatting excitedly about who was going with who and what they were going to wear, making Sophie more and more depressed as the event loomed. And while they all encouraged her to go alone—you didn't need a date to have a good time, they insisted—she could see the pity in their eyes. In the end, she'd decided to give up on the whole ridiculous idea altogether. She was better off staying home and playing videogames than embarrassing herself by standing on the sidelines while everyone else paired up to dance.

  But Stu didn't need to know any of this. No way. He'd just laugh at her and tell her that dances were stupid and lame and only brainwashed idiots need apply.

  And now she’d have to beat him to the punch to save any sort of face.

  “Please,” she scoffed, filling her voice with what she hoped was the appropriate amount of scorn. “Who cares about some stupid dance? I mean, hello? It takes place in the freaking gym! Seriously, I don't care how many fake snowflakes they paste onto the bleachers—it's still going to reek of basketball player sweat.”

  “Oh.” Stu sounded surprised.

  “And I'm sure the music will be lame. Boy band badness. Along with too many slow songs that are entirely undanceable . . .”

  “I just thought—”

  “And who's going to be there?” she interrupted, now on a roll. “Student council? Cheerleaders? Some dorks hoping to dance?” She made a face, even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “No thank you. I'd much rather spend the night in Camelot, doing something i
mportant like downing Morgan Le Fay.”

  “Are you sure?” Stu asked. “I mean, it's just a videogame, Soph. Not like Morgan Le Fay is going anywhere.”

  She stared at the phone. “Just a videogame?” she repeated. “Just a videogame?” She shook her head. “Who are you and what did you do to my best friend?”

  She meant it as a joke, but even she could hear the edge in her voice. Not that it was unjustified. For the past year, Stu had lived and breathed Camelot’s Honor—not only treating it as important as real life, but sometimes even more so.

  So the idea of him being willing to take a rain check on the most important fight they’d ever have to do just to go to some lame dance? It didn’t make any sense. Except if—

  Except if he had a date.

  Her eyes widened. It was the only possible explanation. Someone had asked Stu to go to the dance.

  She slumped in her chair. Great. Even Stu. The mathlete, the computer club treasurer, the one who had always scorned the girls at their school—calling them ditzy and spoiled—even he had scored a date to the Snowflake Dance. And she hadn't.

  “Well, if you want to go, don't let me stop you,” she muttered. “Maybe I'll find a pick-up group and try to slay Morgan Le Fay with them instead.” She knew she sounded more than a little bitter, but she couldn't help it. It was just so unfair. Stu didn't even like school dances. He probably didn't even really want to go. And yet, he had a date and she didn't.

  “Wait, are you mad at me?” her friend asked, his voice filled with confusion on the other end of the phone. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing. You did nothing,” she blurted. “I've got to go. Dishes, remember?”

  “Oh okay. Um. You're coming back though, right? Later on this afternoon?”

  She scowled. Of course he assumed she'd be back online after doing the dishes. Because he thought she had no life.

  “Maybe, we'll see,” she ground out, before hanging up the phone.