Camelot's Crow | ✓ [BOOK 3]

~ 40 ~

He reached back to feel the braid, pulling it over his shoulder to examine Kit's work. "You didn't mess it up, nice," he said.

Kit frowned.

"I'm saying you did a good job, idiot." Morgana kissed his cheek as he stood, then gathered their plates, returning them to where they got them. He still walked with a limp, but he managed to stay standing, so Kit didn't bother to help him this time. He knew Morgana well enough to know that he liked to do things for himself when he could.

"What now?" Kit asked when Morgana returned.

The faery shrugged, but he got distracted by something over Kit's shoulder. He turned to find Selene and Giselle emerging from the cottage, dressed in their armor. It made Kit feel naked, he hadn't yet put his own on, and neither had Morgana. There was no sign of Mordred, though, so he didn't stress himself so much. The sky was overcast, but it was a gentle gray, not the dark, heavy clouds that always brought with them something terrible.

"Good morning," Giselle said gently as she passed the two of them. She looked at Morgana as she always did, as if she hadn't been mad at him the day before. Maybe she was trying to be good to him, in case this all went wrong. Kit hated it, the perpetual feeling that today might be their last, and the need to make it worth it.

He saw Sera next, following Lionel out of another house. Kit met her eyes, but she looked away from him.

Morgana nudged his side. "Hey, we should probably--"

Something slammed against the ground, cutting the faery off mid-sentence, sending dirt and rocks into Kit's face. He threw up an arm to shield himself as another came, closer this time. He looked around, but he found nothing there. The small craters in the ground told him they were not alone, though, that something was coming for them.

Another one hit, but Morgana pulled him away just before it could knock him back. "Come on," the faery said. "We've got to arm ourselves."

They were followed with more strikes as they rushed into the cottage. It wasn't a very sturdy building, but it would hold long enough for them to wrestle into their armor and fill their belts with weapons. The house shook as it was attacked, sand and rock falling from the ceiling and onto the two of them. They moved as quickly as they could, but the foundation was weak, and the walls cracked as Kit was working on a boot.

Morgana took his hand, pulling him out right before half of the cottage caved in where they were standing moments ago, blowing dust and rocks and splinters of wood towards them. The faery stood in front of Kit as he finished strapping up his boot, shielding him from the hits. As soon as he was ready, Kit stood, pulling Excalibur from his belt.

He stepped towards the direction of the hits, squinting, trying his best to see who was there. He thought he might've seen someone in the distance, but he was caught off guard by something shooting towards him. Morgana caught it midair before it could hit him, panting as he looked up at Kit. It was an arrow, alight with blue sparks. Mordred.

"That was hot," Kit said breathlessly, and Morgana rolled his eyes.

"Focus, Kit."

He smirked. "I am."

"On the battle."

"Right."

He was ready for the next attack. He held up his shield in time to catch three arrows. He and Morgana moved forward, the faery holding his bow at the ready, Kit clutching Excalibur tightly. They could see them then, emerging from the line of trees that shielded Fells from the rest of the world, bringing with them a trail of thick, black smoke. Kit could feel it in his chest, heavy and suffocating, as Connor and his men flooded the village. Somehow, he had come about a new army, infinitely larger than Kit had been anticipating.