Geeks and the Holy Grail Page 7

  Now all I need to do, he told himself, is to somehow find a way to live to tell the tale.

  “Did you find it?”

  Morgana urged her mare forward, stopping just in front of the two knights, her purple eyes scanning their saddlebags with failing hope. They had been gone a long time. She’d assumed they’d been killed. Though who would be left to kill them? Her mercenaries had all but slaughtered the druid caravan, and no thief or cutthroat in the forest would dare attack one of Arthur’s knights.

  She chuckled to herself. Well, the men Arthur considered his knights, anyway. Now loyal only to her.

  It had been far too easy to bring them to her side. They were still resentful of a servant boy doing what they could not—pulling the sword from the stone and being pronounced king of England. And then there was Arthur’s obsession with peace. He had united the tribes of Britain and all but eliminated war. Which was good for the peasants in the fields, perhaps, but true knights grew bored without an assignment or quest.

  And she had been all too happy to give them one. The quest for the Holy Grail.

  The first knight, Agravaine, pulled off his helmet, revealing a shock of unkempt black hair. “We found nothing,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “We searched the druid camp thoroughly, but there was no cup to be found anywhere, besides those used for drinking.”

  “Then one of them must have slipped away with it,” Morgana replied, feeling the irritation rise within her. These doltish dunces! Did she always have to do everything herself? “Did you not think to look for her?”

  “We did!” the second knight, Sir Kay, replied in a sulky voice. He had once been Arthur’s foster brother and had felt he should get special treatment because of it. But Arthur insisted on treating all his knights equally, much to Kay’s chagrin. “We even searched Lord Merlin’s Crystal Cave,” he added. “But all we found were a couple of children cooking a chicken.”

  Morgana opened her mouth to speak, but paused. “A chicken?” she repeated. “Are you sure it was a chicken? In Merlin’s cave?”

  “Aye,” Agravaine agreed, grinning. He was missing a few teeth. “I almost stole it for dinner. But it was pretty scrawny. Not much meat on its bones.”

  “It was acting oddly as well,” Sir Kay added. “Might have been sick, for all we know. Don’t want to eat that.”

  Morgana considered this for a moment. The knights peered at her curiously. “If you’re hungry we can snare a rabbit,” Sir Agravaine told her. “Or bring down a deer.”

  She waved him off. “Why would there be a chicken in Lord Merlin’s cave?” she pondered aloud.

  “They said it was dinner.”

  “But it can’t be. The Merlin I know has always been vegan.”

  The two knights stared at her dumbly. “A what?” Kay asked. Of course, they didn’t know the futuristic term.

  “He’s a—” She groaned. “He doesn’t eat meat!”

  “Perhaps his apprentice does. Or his cook?”

  “There was a cook?”

  “Aye. A young girl. Wearing very strange clothes, I might add,” Kay replied, scratching his head. “Like…a long tunic, bearing a portrait of a mouse standing on his hind legs and wearing trousers. Quite an odd choice for a cook, if you ask me.”

  Morgana frowned. “What did this cook look like?” For some reason her mind suddenly flashed to Sophie Sawyer, the miserable blond girl from the future who had once gotten the best of her. Could she be once again mixed up in this? Certainly the clothing sounded appropriate for the time period….

  “She had dark skin and hair. Very pretty.” The knight smirked. “Though a bit too surly for my tastes.”

  Morgana pursed her lips. Not Sophie, then. Maybe a Companion? Or someone else from the future, called in to aid the druids?

  She slid off her horse and paced the forest floor, raking a hand through her long black hair. “I think there may be some magic afoot here,” she said, looking up at the two knights. “I want you to go back and get a closer look at that cook. And that chicken.”

  Agravaine groaned. “It was a chicken!” he protested. “Wind and Rain, this is boring! Can’t we return to Camelot and just attack Arthur? He’s sick and weakened. We could sneak into the castle and stab him while he sleeps.”

  “A much better use of our time than going back for a chicken,” Kay agreed.

  Morgana groaned. Goddess Mother, save her from fools! “We can’t kill him in his sleep,” she informed the knights, who should by all rights already know this. “He’s got the Pendragon scabbard to protect him.”

  She was still, admittedly, a little sore about that whole thing. She’d come so close to stealing the scabbard from Arthur, only to be defeated by Sophie and Merlin and that annoying boy with the sword who refused to die. Why, they’d attacked her in her own castle and she’d barely escaped with her life. It had taken her months to recover from it—months spent filling her head with plans for revenge. And then, when her spies had told her about Arthur’s sickness…about the druids secretly traveling to him, bringing the Holy Grail, she had seen her chance at last to turn the tide of fate.

  But now…

  She stroked her chin with two fingers. A chicken. Could Merlin’s apprentice have disguised the Grail somehow as a chicken? It seemed so preposterous.

  Morgana dropped her hand. It was a slim chance, but the only one she had at the moment. She needed to find out for sure. Walking back to her black mare, she slipped her foot into the stirrup and mounted. Then she turned to the knights.

  “I want you two to travel to the island of Avalon. Wait there in case any druids return. Capture anyone you find and…convince them to tell you where they hid the Grail. By any means necessary.”

  The men saluted her, clearly happy to be given a task other than watching a chicken. Especially one that involved possible violence. Knights. They were all the same.

  “And what will you do, m’lady?” Sir Kay asked.

  “I need to pay a visit to this apprentice and his cook,” she told them. “And see this chicken for myself.”

  Sophie remembered being told, at some point, you should always get to the airport two hours early, but she’d never been clear on exactly why. Until today, that is, as they stood in a seemingly endless security line, waiting to get through to their gate and onto their plane to Las Vegas, while her skin crawled with nervousness.

  The teleport spell hadn’t worked. They’d tried reciting it a number of times to no avail. Forward, backward, each of them saying one word in turn. Every possible combination. But still nothing happened and they remained in Sophie’s backyard with a dragon.

  At first Sophie was baffled by this until she read the small print in mother’s spell book and learned you couldn’t just teleport willy-nilly from time to time, place to place, like you could in the TARDIS on Doctor Who. In real life, you needed a rest period before the magic would work again. According to the book, it would take three days for her recent round-trip teleport to wear off, which left them no choice but to purchase airline tickets. Thankfully, her mother had given Sophie a Companions credit card, for emergencies only. Sophie figured this counted.

  At one point she’d actually considered calling her mother and asking what she should do. But in the end she’d decided against it. After all, this was her very first assignment. And she’d already accidentally managed to mess it up. To ask for help now? Well, that would ensure she never got an assignment number two.

  She did try to call Merlin, to let him know they were coming. But the operator at the Excalibur had hung up on her after she asked to speak to Merlin the Magician—not sure of his last name.

  And so they were headed to Vegas the Muggle way. If they could get through security, that is.

  It had been easy to imagine tricking security last night, in the comfort of Sophie’s bedroom when they’d bought the tickets. But now, surrounded by actual agents and police officers, she was, admittedly, starting to sweat it. What would the authorities do if th
ey caught them? Scold them and send them back home to their parents in shame? Or was this something she could be arrested for?

  Because yes, as a twelve-year-old, she could legally board a plane. But boarding it with a dragon in tow? That might just be another thing altogether.

  Spike wasn’t being much help in the matter, either. From the moment they arrived he’d been thrashing around his pet carrier, unable to settle into the confined space. Maybe Ashley had been right when she’d suggested they drug the dragon for the trip—like they used to do with her mother’s old King Charles spaniel. At the time Sophie hadn’t had the heart—or nerve—to do it. What if they gave him the wrong dosage? What if he was allergic to modern medication? It wasn’t like they could call a vet if he got sick. And if he dropped dead on the way? Insta-mission failure, just add Benadryl. Not to mention, poor Spike!

  They’d dressed him up, of course. An attempt to make him look more doglike than dragon. But what if Spike blew his cover the moment it counted? Like, literally blew it—by blowing fire at the TSA agents? They’d think the dragon was some kind of biological weapon of mass destruction. Part of a terrorist plot. Sophie’s dad would pretty much kill her if she got sent to prison right before the wedding.

  “Dude, I’m freaking out!” Ashley poked her in the shoulder for at least the fourteenth time since they’d gotten in line. “There’s, like, all these guys with guns here. What if they see Spike?”

  “Spike’s fine. He’s in his carrier. You can barely see him through the bars.”

  “You can see he has no fur.”

  “There are plenty of hairless dogs.”

  “But none of them look like dragons.”

  “Who wants to play I Spy?” Stu interrupted cheerfully. The two girls gave him a look. “What? It’d pass the time!”

  “I prefer to spend my time in abject terror, thank you very much,” Sophie said. “I mean, I told my dad I was going on a church field trip for goodness’ sake. If he finds out I snuck off to Vegas…”

  “Oh my gosh, I told my mom the exact same thing!” Ashley cried. She wrinkled her nose. “I hope they don’t think we’re together.”

  “Um, news flash. We are together.”

  “I know, but to, like, save the world. Not hang out.”

  “I also brought my Magic cards!” Stu added with an almost manic smile on his face. As if he were desperate to keep the peace. He reached into his bag and pulled out his deck. He pushed them at Sophie. “I’ll even let you play my Spirit Dragon if you want.”

  Sophie forced a smile in his direction. She was glad he was so excited about the mission. And why shouldn’t he be? This was what they’d been waiting for all this time and now it was finally happening! Who wouldn’t be excited?

  Besides, you know, someone stuck with their annoying future stepsister constantly blabbing in her ear.

  What had she been thinking, agreeing to let Ashley come along? This was supposed to be Sophie and Stu against the world. The world didn’t need a third wheel along for the ride.

  But that wasn’t Stu’s fault.

  She forced a smile. “I’ll definitely play Magic with you,” she assured him. “But you can keep your Spirit Dragon. I prefer to crush you with my Mog Fanatic.”

  “I think I’ll stick to crushing candy,” Ashley chimed in, as if anyone had asked her. “You know,” she added. “On Candy Crush?”

  Stu let out a loud laugh. Sophie rolled her eyes. And to think, most kids at school thought Ashley was so cool….

  A squawk came from the pet carrier. Sophie dropped down to peer at Spike. The dragon had his snout pressed against the bars and was panting heavily, his black, very un-doglike tongue flopping out of the side of his mouth.

  “Hang in there, buddy,” she whispered to him. “We’re almost there.”

  “Tickets and IDs, please,” the agent at the desk called out.

  Finally! Sophie rose back to her feet and reached into her pocket. She pulled out her passport and handed it to the agent. Stu and Ashley did the same.

  The man looked down at the IDs and tickets, then up at them. He squinted suspiciously. “Where are your parents?” he asked.

  Sophie’s mouth went dry. Parents? Why was he asking about parents?

  “Um…” she said. She shot a “save me” look at Stu.

  “Um…” Stu repeated, which was not at all helpful or convincing. “They…um, they…”

  “You can fly at age twelve!” Sophie blurted out, suddenly remembering. “It says so on the website!”

  They’d done quite a bit of Internet research, in fact, before buying their tickets. Each airline had different policies when it came to letting minors on board by themselves. East Air seemed to be cool with it, which was why they chose to buy seats with them.

  The agent’s face clouded. “Well, there’s the unaccompanied minor program,” he said. “But usually that means the parents walk you to the gate.”

  Now Sophie’s whole body was trembling. Had she gotten it all wrong? What if the guy didn’t let them go? What if he demanded to see their parents? Could they convince some random adults in the airport to pretend to be their mom and dad? That seemed rather unlikely. Airports had strict warnings about strangers asking you to carry their bags. She was guessing there were even stricter warnings about leading strange children through security checkpoints.

  She realized the agent was still waiting for an answer. “I know,” she stumbled. “But…but…”

  “But our dad is such a jerk!” Ashley broke in, pushing Sophie aside with such force she almost knocked her over.

  The agent’s gaze shot in her direction. “Excuse me?”

  Ashley sauntered up to the desk, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah. So, like, when we got here, I just wanted to go to the bathroom, and he was like, ‘We have to get to our gate.’ And I was like, ‘Look at the line, Dad. I’ll pee my pants in that line! And I so do not want to sit on an airplane all the way to Vegas with pee-pee pants!’” She shook her head knowingly at the agent. “You know?”

  The agent’s face turned bright red.

  “Anyway, he was like, ‘Well, I’m going through. I’ll meet you on the other side.’ Which is super rude, don’t you think? I mean, do you have kids?”

  “I have a daughter….”

  “Would you leave her alone in the airport if she had to pee?”

  “Uh, she’s three. So…no.”

  “Oh my gosh, what a great father you are!” Ashley turned to Sophie and Stu. “Isn’t he, like, the most amazing father ever?”

  “Amazing,” Sophie repeated, eyeing Ashley in awe.

  “Anyway, we’re going to go find him now. He’s probably wondering where we are.” Ashley smiled broadly. “Though I think I need to pee again first.” She started to hop on one foot, as if to prove her point.

  The guard shoved the passports in her direction. “Have a great trip!” he barked, looking very anxious to get rid of them. Ashley took the passports, then danced over to the metal detector. She placed her large bright pink backpack on the conveyer belt.

  “And…security is officially crushed,” she pronounced. “No Spirit Dragons or Mog people necessary.”

  Sophie laid her bag on the belt, resisting the urge to glance back at the agent. She couldn’t believe that Ashley’s ploy had actually worked! It was like Ashley had literally used her annoyingness as a superpower. Which was annoying in and of itself.

  “Dude, that was amazing,” Stu said, coming up behind them and throwing his own backpack on the belt. Ashley beamed.

  “Thanks!” she said. “It just came to me!”

  “We’re not through yet,” Sophie reminded them, maybe a little too harshly. She knew it was ridiculous to feel resentful that Ashley had proven herself useful. But still! She was sure she could have figured it out if she’d just had a few more seconds to think.

  She motioned to Stu and together they hefted the pet carrier up onto the belt. But before they could turn Spike in the right directi
on, a second security agent approached them, holding up a hand.

  “You need to take that dog out,” he instructed. “Walk him through the detector with you.”

  Uh-oh.

  “You can carry him or use a leash,” the man added helpfully.

  This was not good. While Spike could maybe pass for a hairless dog behind the barred door of the carrier, there was no way he wouldn’t look dragon-shaped out in the open. But what choice did they have?

  She gestured to Stu. He reached down to open the cage. Spike’s eyes lit up excitedly. She could see his wings moving from under his dog sweater. They had wrapped the wings tightly to his side using an ACE Bandage before they left the house, but what if they were coming loose? What if Spike decided to try to fly again in the middle of the checkpoint?

  She bit her lower lip as Stu reached into the carrier and gently pulled the dragon out. As he set him down on the ground, Sophie could see the creature’s eyes darting around the airport, his whole body tense with fear. Not surprising, she supposed, seeing as Spike had spent his formative years as a cup, deep underground in a cave with only a few druids to keep him company. A bustling airport was sure to be petrifying for the poor guy.

  Keep it together, Spike, she urged him silently as Stu affixed the leash to the dragon’s collar. Just a little longer.

  Once the leash was fastened, Stu rose to his feet. He started walking toward the X-ray machine, tugging on Spike’s leash. But Spike didn’t move. Instead he dug his claws into the floor and made a terrified, very un-doglike squawk. His eyes were bulging from his head and he was panting with fear.

  “Come on, Spike,” Stu pleaded.

  But Spike wouldn’t move.

  “Will you hurry it up!” the person behind them growled. “Some of us have a plane to catch.”

  Stu gave another tug, but Spike wasn’t having it. He had planted himself in his spot and he wasn’t going anywhere willingly. Panic rose within Sophie. The longer they took, the more the guards would start paying attention. And if they realized the dragon was not a dog…