The Woodland Fae turned the rest of his body, his head remaining weirdly still. His habit’s left arm hung limply, but he extended his right hand. “I am Sir Bedivere, Knight Commander.”

“Val.” She shook his hand. “I sort of...wandered in.”

“Is it not magnificent?” Sir Bedivere beamed. “For thousands of years, the reliquary was closed as tightly as a fortress, defending the artifacts that enemies of the great Pendragons longed to destroy. Now, under the peace Queen Julia has brought us, we are no longer a fortress but a museum.”

“What do those words mean?” Val asked, pointing.

Sir Bedivere smiled. “I believe you will find out.”

“Cryptic,” Val commented.

Sir Bedivere chuckled. “What kind of a mysterious old man in a cloak would I be if I wasn’t?”

“Fair enough.” Val grinned. “The guy outside said you were knights.”

“Yes. After King Arthur fell and Morgan Le Fay spelled him into an enchanted sleep for ten thousand years, I laid Excalibur in his hands, and the sword was sealed in his casket with him,” Sir Bedivere told her. “That night, I took a vow to protect the memory of my king by protecting the magical artifacts he had imbued with his power.”

“Whoa.” Val stared at him. “Excalibur lay here?”

“No.” Sir Bedivere rested a hand on the polished case. “Excalibur rested with Arthur until he rose again and bestowed the sacred blade on Julie before she became queen. I prepared this place for Excalibur, believing she would bring peace and hoping it could rest here from its many battles.”

Val frowned. “I haven’t seen the queen carry it.”

“She does not. She cast it away at the Battle of New Camelot before throwing herself into the prison realm.” Sir Bedivere smiled. “From a lake it was taken up, and into a lake it was cast again. Perhaps I was a fool to believe it could be otherwise.”

“Amazing,” Val whispered. “Its magic must have been beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, young dwarf.” Sir Bedivere tilted his head. “Your people forged that sword.”

Shock rippled through her, partially because he’d recognized her species. “The Iron Dwarves?”

“That’s right. Who else could make a weapon of such great magic and power?” Sir Bedivere mused.

Val shook her head. “I don’t know any Iron Dwarves who could forge a broadsword like it. Maybe the knowledge was lost in the Pendragon Wars.”

“Much was believed to be lost in those wars, young one.” Sir Bedivere’s amber eyes bored through her. “Much that has once again been found.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The knight commander’s words still echoed in Val’s mind that afternoon as she approached Meggie’s Bistro. The small restaurant on the edge of the plaza had an airy, open façade, with large windows and elegant French doors standing open to admit the cool breeze. The sign above the door was old, the name written in flowing script. New red letters across the bottom read Queen’s Choice!!!!

Val tried not to frown at the multitude of exclamation marks. She paused in the doorway, noting holes in the frame where something heavy must have been bolted to the door, perhaps an iron grille.

“Eiravel! There she is! Protector of the realm!” Frode boomed.

Val’s cheeks burned. She hurried into the restaurant to shut him up. “Dad!”

The bistro’s decor was eclectic in taste, era, color, and style, but it all had one thing in common: the Pendragon family. Seventies-style booths, elegant wrought-iron furniture, and sleek modern plastic tables mingled on the black and white floor tiles. A dizzying array of clocks, posters, and pictures covered the walls. An anime drawing showed Queen Julia with her hands on fire. On the opposite wall, a photorealistic oil painting showed the queen on her throne with the Eternity Crown glittering on her head. Beside it was a woodcut of King Arthur on a rearing dragon.

It took Val a moment to spot Frode and Bodil through the bewildering decor. They sat at a booth near the back, beaming at her.

She shuffled toward them but paused at the counter to stare at a framed photograph on the corner: Queen Julia in jeans and a T-shirt with her arm around a cute weremouse in a lace-hemmed apron.

The same weremouse popped up from behind the counter. “Hello!” she squeaked, black button eyes sparkling behind her round glasses.

Val cleared her throat. “Uh, hi.”

“Welcome to Meggie’s Bistro. I’m Meggie, and I’m proud to serve you at the Queen’s Choice,” the weremouse continued.

“Uh-huh. I’m with them.” Val jerked a thumb toward her companions.

“Take a seat, dearie, and order whatever you like. They tell me you’re a friend of Her Royal Majesty’s.” Meggie’s misty eyes drifted to the photo. “Anyone with that status eats for free here.”

Val froze. “Ma’am, that’s really not necessary.”

“Don’t you worry, dearie. I know that.” Meggie patted Val’s elbow. “I never left Avalon Town, you know, not even when paras were rioting in the streets, and I’ve never seen this place as beautiful as it is now. I owe the queen all my gratitude, and I owe it to you, too since you work alongside her.”

Val softened. “Thank you. That’s kind.” She walked to the booth.

Bodil sipped a fruit smoothie while Frode gripped a stoneware mug of hot coffee.

“It’s so good to see you, little spark.” Frode slid out of the booth and hugged her tightly, his arms around her waist.

“Good to see you too, Dad.” Val returned the embrace. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“It’s a treat to be here!” Frode sat. “You know, I’ve never had a chance to see the sights here in Avalon Town. It’s refreshing.”

“It is one of the most beautiful towns in Avalon.” Bodil, who was “not Frode’s girlfriend,” smiled over her glass. “New Camelot is even lovelier.” She cleared her throat. “So I hear.”

“I’m glad you could make it, too.” Val grinned.

“It was nice to have company on the journey,” Frode told her airily.

“Uh-huh. I’m sure it was.” Val hid her smile behind a menu. “Wow, this menu is great! So much stuff I’ve never heard of.”

“I’m going to try the smoked cobra tails with rice,” Frode announced. “Bod…I mean, people have been telling me to be more adventurous.”

“It’s a Matahari Elven dish,” Bodil interjected.

“Look at this.” Val pointed at another red Queen’s Choice!!!! stamp. “Sinatria told me that Her Majesty is a sucker for fish and chips.”

“Not just any fish and chips, dear.” Meggie drifted to the table. “Sylthana fish fresh from the Western Sea, battered, fried in garlic butter, and served with hand-cut double-fried chips. It’s the most popular item on our menu.”

“How could I say no to that?” Val smiled. “I see you serve blood shots, too.”

“The vampires love it, and it’s all synthetic these days, you know. That’s Eternity Law now.” Meggie whipped out a notebook and took their orders.

“I would have thought the queen’s taste was more classy than fish and chips,” Frode mused.