Pat

"Why can't I simply give the sword to Arthur? Proclaim that I had a vision from God and all that?" I asked Uther over breakfast in the morning. He had summoned me to join him for a private meal, but I'd insisted Kat attend with me. I wasn't about to be separated from her.

Of course, Uther had Isabella at his side. It was clear that they were inseparable. I wondered what she'd do when he died. He looked pale, and I could tell he'd recently lost weight and lost it quickly; his tunic was ill-fitting. But his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shined with alertness.

His eyebrows lifted as he focused on me. "Have you had such a vision?"

I contemplated lying. I probably should have, but I didn't. "No... not quite. I did dream about Arthur being king, though."

Uther sipped his juice, prepared fresh for Kat's and my benefit. "Hmm. Well, it would be convenient if you'd had one, but being untruthful wouldn't be the best course of action with the Church."

I sighed as my shoulders slumped. This is a nightmare! "So... what now? Do you really mean to make me the ruler?"

"I see no way out of this, Patrick."

I pushed the food around on my plate. Patrick, I lamented the use of the wrong name. This is so fucked up! "Is there any way the stone could be wrong?"

Uther wheezed, and Isabella patted his arm. He coughed into his napkin and, when he pulled it away, I spied a speckling of blood. I shot Kat a side-long glance and leaned close to her to whisper, "Turbercleousis?" Kat nodded.

It was painful to witness. I'd heard of it and knew it was a coughing disease, but not a lot more. I was glad to see the physician approach with his medicine, though I was skeptical it helped. At least it wasn't some stupid arsenic compound or some such. It probably wasn't much more than a natural cough suppressant, but at least he had that. I wondered how much longer he had to live. Not long, I concluded, if he was concerned about his throne.

When the spell had passed, Uther stated, "No. It was a magical test. The only thing that could change the proper outcome is equally powerful but evil magic." He paused, catching my attention. "I can assure you we would take all the necessary steps to rid ourselves of such magic." He threw his napkin down. "No, the sword and the stone was a valid test: only the man who is to rule England could pass it.

Shit, I cursed. How are we going to get out of this?

Feeling defeated, a wave of homesickness washed over me. I missed my friend, 'Nita, who I hadn't seen since before we moved in with Beatrice. I hadn't drawn in what felt like months. I knew that Kat had to be missing her crew, too. Even in the new school, she had begun to be in with the popular crowd.

I sighed and played with my food, trying to work things out in my head. A solution was not coming to mind. I was stuck and becoming more and more trapped by the minute.

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Kat

Dear Lord and Lady, please help Pat keep her mouth shut, I shouted in my head. "Well, brother, it looks like you're going to be King." I grinned and tried to lighten the mood. It fell flat.

Uther shifted in his Chair. "To that end, we need to discuss a few things."

Pat's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

"Yes. First, there's the matter of your rank. You will be knighted, of course."

Pat's eyes grew wide. "A knight? But, I don't know how to fight!"

Uther paused again, studying Pat, before continuing. "Well, no matter. It wouldn't be proper for you to be of no rank at all. Being knighted is more about service to the Crown than it is about knowing a weapon."

That surprised me. "Is it?"

He nodded and addressed Pat again. "Then, there is also the matter of your religion. The Church would have you baptized, but I would be much more pleased with a practice aligned with Avalon. Though, in the end, there is little that will keep me from putting you on my throne."

I watched my sister squirm, shifting in her seat. She hated religion and had rejected it several years ago for secular atheism. "I'm not really a religious person," she explained matter-of-factly. "I don't believe in magic either, or at least I didn't until last night. Now, I'm not so sure. But that doesn't mean it comes from a higher power. It only means it exists."

"Surely you have some understanding of the mysteries of the Universe? How the Lord works in our world?" Isabella asked as she cocked an eyebrow over the rim of her wine goblet. She had not followed suit with the drinking of juice.

Pat ran a hand through her hair. "I have... understandings that are different than most people," she said carefully. I wondered what people of this age would think about electricity and vaccines. They would probably be witchcraft. Don't push it, Pat, I pleaded silently.

"Very well," the kind allowed. "As I said, your beliefs, or lack thereof, won't keep me naming you ruler. By the decree of my own religion, I must since you pulled the sword. Unless, of course, you eat children or are a woman or something. Then we have problems." He chuckled. Pat and I both forced our own in return.

⚔♡⚔♡⚔

If I weren't a nervous wreck already, Pat's anxious pacing in front of the windows of our suite would have made me one. I tried to ignore her and looked outside. The day was beautiful, but the room was chilly. The phrase 'drafty old castle' came to mind. I now understood what it meant through experience as a whisper of cold slid around my legs while I sat on the sofa. I wished I could slip off my shoes and curl my feet up under my skirt, but they were tied on. Getting them off would be relatively easy, but back on, and in a hurry, would not.

"I don't know what we're going to do, Kat!" my sister wailed. She turned to whisper at me. "They're going to discover I'm a woman eventually." She ran a hand through her hair. "This isn't sustainable."

"Calm down," I urged, though I knew she'd continue to pace. It wasn't like her not to know what to do. My gut clenched at realizing how much it unsettled her; she had no plan and was panicking.

"I can't! Don't you see? Once they find out, they'll conclude that we somehow employed a countermagic. They'll remember that stupid backstory I made up about Avalon and decide you did some spell or some such. Uther will hang me for treason and burn you at the stake as a witch."

"Not if we remind them that Merlin set the sword in the stone."

She threw her hands up. "We can't argue that the magic is both right and wrong!" She plopped down on the sofa beside me. "It's right because you're not a witch, but it's wrong because I'm a woman. That's our argument, Kat."

She had a point. I decided t redirect her. "Okay. So, what's our ultimate goal here?"

"We need Arthur to rule. And not just as a figurehead. Anything else alters history too much."

We paused until I had an idea. "Let's run and find Merlin. We'll leave the sword behind with a letter explaining why. They can't punish us if we're not here."

Pat leaned forward to rest her elbows on her legs as she thought. "Do you think that'd work?"

I rested a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know. But, I haven't been able to come up with anything better."

She heaved a great sigh and hung her head. "Neither have I. Do we know where Merlin is?"

I shook my head. "No. Just that he lives on an island."

"We'll have to find out. Maybe..." She stood to start pacing again. She moved when she planned.

I encouraged her. "Maybe?"

"What if we tell them we want to make a pilgrimage to honor Merlin? Because he set the sword that chose me?"

My stomach fluttered. The idea was as good a plan as any, and I wanted to have hope. "Do you think they'd let us go?"

She winced as if in pain. I wondered if she was getting a headache to match my own. "Not without an entourage. Which doesn't solve our problem. We need to travel by ourselves."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "That means we run. But, if we do, we look guilty."

"Aren't we, though?"

I snapped my head up to glare at her. "Of course not! Being a woman isn't wrong, and I didn't work any magic on that stone! It chose you fair and square!"

She nodded. "I know that, and you know that, but who else will believe?"

I sagged. "Good point."

She paced a little more. The crackling of the fire was the only sound beyond the rustling of her clothing as she moved. I couldn't stand the chill any longer and went in search of a blanket.

I found one in the trunk at the foot of the bed. It was thick and luxurious and promised to be warm. I hauled it back to the sofa with me and wrapped it around, cocooning myself in it—nothing like a medieval burrito.

Mmm... burrito. I was getting hungry. Neither one of us had eaten much breakfast. Maybe we could send for some food. My stomach rumbled at the thought.

I was just about to suggest a snack when we were interrupted by a knock at the door. When no one entered, Pat called out. "Yes?"

"You have a visitor, Sir. Shall we come in?"

"Oh! Yes! Come in," Pat urged.

I stood, grabbing Pat's hand, and we faced the door together. Both of us gasped, jaws dropping in shock.

Our father walked through the door.

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