Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight

his gaze with hers. “Not at such a cost. To you, and to this world. Listen to me, Jerry. This world can still be saved, the people set free to live their own lives again ... but not if you give Excalibur to Merlin Satanspawn. With its power he could raise all the dead of this world and torment them forever. And then come to our world to do it all again. I couldn’t bear to have that on my conscience; and neither could you. I swear to you, Jerry. If you make me live again, at such a cost, I will kill myself.”
    “Julie, don’t ... I can’t lose you again.”
    “‘I could not love thee, dear, half so much, Loved I not honour more,’” said Julianne.
    She reached out with her ghostly hands and took his living ones in hers; and Stark didn’t flinch a bit. “I said that to you once,” he said finally.
    “I know. That was when I first knew I loved you.”
    Stark smiled at her, a real smile, the first I’d ever seen from him. “I’ve missed you so much, Julie. So much, I couldn’t see anything else. You always were the sensible one in this relationship.”
    “How sickeningly sentimental,” said Merlin. “I sense your resolve is weakening, Sir Jerusalem, and I can’t have that. So give me Excalibur or I’ll destroy the heart that hangs at your belt and take control of this whining little spirit for myself. Just because she’s dead, don’t think I can’t hurt her. Don’t think I can’t make her scream and suffer while you watch helplessly. Haven’t you seen enough here to know that even the dead aren’t safe from me?”
    He gestured sharply, and every broken, mutilated, and skinned corpse nailed to the walls and ceiling came suddenly alive. They raised their flayed faces, strained their wet-muscled arms against the pins that held them, and screamed in agony. The horrid sound was deafening. Bodily fluids rained down from still-working organs exposed to the air, and a thousand raw and desperate voices called out for rest and mercy and death. And Merlin Satanspawn and Morgan Le Fae sat on their iron thrones and laughed.
    Stark strode forward to stand before the two thrones, Julianne drifting along beside him; and something in Stark’s face stopped the laughter.
    “You really shouldn’t have threatened my wife,” he said.
    He reached over his shoulder and drew Excalibur from the invisible scabbard on his back. The sword flashed suddenly into existence, the long, golden blade shining supernaturally bright, its golden glow forcing back the murky light of the Court. Merlin and Morgan both flinched away from the sudden new light and raised their hands to protect their eyes.
    “You had the sword all the time!” said Merlin. “How could you keep it from me, here in my place of power?”
    “It’s Excalibur,” said Stark. “What else do you need to know?”
    Merlin jerked his fat hand down and made himself glare into the golden light. “Artur might have had power over me with that sword, but he was the rightful born King of this land. That gave him authority. You’re only a thief with a magic sword. And I have killed so many of those in my time.”
    “You might be right,” said Stark. “I’m Knight Apostate. Not worthy to bear Excalibur. But luckily, I know a man who is.”
    And he turned and threw Excalibur to me. The sword seemed to hang on the air, turning end over golden end, and I had all the time in the world to reach out and grasp the hilt as it came to me. I snatched the blade out of mid air, and the blade blazed up even more brightly, a terrible, piercing light that filled the whole Court from end to end. I swept the sword back and forth before me, then looked Merlin full in the eye. He stood up abruptly from his iron throne and shoved one hand out at me. Magic blazed and crackled on the air, rewriting reality itself as it forced its way towards me ... and the sword absorbed every single bit of it. Sucked it right out of the air. I grinned at Merlin and cut suddenly at his extended hand. The golden blade flashed through the air, and Merlin snatched his hand back barely in time to avoid losing it. I stepped forward and thrust Excalibur straight at his heart; but the blade couldn’t reach him. It slammed to a halt a few inches short. I cut at him again and again, grunting with the effort I put into every blow, but brightly as the sword blazed, it still couldn’t pierce his protections.
    Stark and Julianne stood to one side, hand in hand, watching patiently.
    Morgan Le Fae raised a