The wires in Gaspar Latke’s eye started to burn horribly. He dropped to his knees in Griffen’s veeyar, forcing himself not to pull the wires free. He screamed with pain, knowing Heavener was monitoring every sound he made. But he couldn’t help himself.
The antivirus program stepped up the pace, filling the datastreams with bugs that worked furiously to repair the damage he was doing. Overlapping images from the convention center filled his vision, letting him know the whole area had gone ballistic.
“The program is bleeding over,” Heavener complained in the distance.
“I can’t stop it,” Gaspar gritted out.
“Then stop what you can,” Heavener advised. “I’ve got a team who will pick Griffen up.”
Unable to control himself, Gaspar curled a fist around the three crimson wires shoved deep into his eye socket. But he didn’t yank them out. Failing Heavener wasn’t an option.
He cried out in pain again, but he held on to the wires and curled up into a fetal ball, trying to keep his mind clear.
Catie Murray started at the blue-white marble cistern in the center of the reception area. It was elegant, beautifully made. The water arced from a pot carried by a large brown bear reaching for a beehive hanging from a tree branch high overhead. In the physical world, and at the time of King Arthur and Camelot, tapping the artesian well in such a fashion would have been the work of a master. But in the Legend of the Lake game demo, it was gracefully rendered.
She stuck her fingers into the water, finding it cool to the touch. Impulsively she brought her fingers to her lips. The water was ambrosia, almost honey-sweet.
“They say,” a pleasantly cultured voice said from behind her, “you’re never supposed to drink the water from faery lands because you’ll be forever trapped there.”
Embarrassed, Catie turned to face the speaker.
Like the artesian well, he was beautiful, a blond-haired angel dressed in polished silver armor. A broadsword with a prominent crosspiece hung from his hip. He carried his helm in on arm, his gauntlets in one hand. His china blue eyes regarded her with interest.
“Lady,” he said softly, “my humble apologies for startling you.”
“That’s quite all right.” Catie found herself tumbling easily into the flowery speech patterns of the game. “I didn’t mean to offend. There were no signs.”
The man smiled. “As if that many people in these times could read.”
“They say King Arthur expects much from his knights.”
“From his knights, yes, but there are many common people here this day, too.”
Catie followed the knight’s gaze around the large room. A winding staircase made of the same darkly veined brown stone as the castle looked like a wide river moving sedately up to the second floor.
A chandelier covered over with a thousand or more burning tapers hung from the center of the ceiling above, augmenting the natural light that came in through the large windows. Banquet tables set up with meats, breads, and fruits looked as if they should have bowed under the immense weight. The stone floor was immaculate, made of huge flagstones carefully fitted together. Hundreds of guests stood around, talking in groups and sampling the fare from the tables.
“It’s all so beautiful,” Catie said.
“Of course it is,” the knight said with a small smile. “It is Camelot. How could it be anything else?”
“I don’t know.” Catie shook her head in wonder. Legend of the Lake was an Arthurian fantasy, but now she felt guilty for having given the game description only cursory inspection.
“And on the day when the king officially chooses his queen,” the knight said, “this room had best be filled with gaiety and laughter.”
“Or else?” Catie couldn’t help asking, then realized the comment was anachronistic to the time frame of the game.
The knight glanced at her briefly. “Or else,” he agreed.
Catie laughed, taken with the moment, forgetting all the weirdness that had happened last night. “You’re not from around here.”
The knight grinned and shook his head. “No. And neither are you.”
“I’m Catie.” And in keeping with the game’s design, she curtsied. She loved the way the long dress she wore fit her. The gossamer green material felt like silk and was artfully beaded with rubies and yellow amethysts.
“Roger,” the knight replied, “and I’ll be your Lancelot for your stay.” He bowed effortlessly despite the armor.
“Lancelot is a big role,” Catie commented.
“I like big roles. I like girls, too.”
Catie laughed. Uh-oh, I’ll bet he’s all of eleven or twelve. “That’s good to know.”
“Do you want to go talk somewhere? A private chatroom in Hotel Camelot, maybe?” The little boy’s leer on the angelic face looked totally out of place.
“Sorry, that wasn’t on my tour itinerary.”
“Hey,” Roger said, “I’m Lancelot.”
“Maybe on the outside.” Catie turned and walked around the huge cistern to put room between her and the amorous knight.
Roger followed. “I’ve got a big part in this game. The Lady in the Lake gets attacked, and Arthur and I have to go save her.”
“I’m sure there’s plenty of adventure to go around,” Catie told him.
“Yeah, if you’re into subplots instead of the main event,” Roger said. “I’ve kind of always been a main-event kind of guy.”
“As I recall,” Catie said, still on the move, “Lancelot wasn’t a lech.”
“You have something against bloodsucking invertebrates?”
“That’s a leech.” Catie considered. “Although I guess the line between the two does blur a little. I can see how you’d be confused.”
Roger scowled, twisting the handsome Lancelot proxy’s face into a distortion. “Hey, I got the cheats for this game from a place I know on the Net. This demo normally only runs a general audiences loop, but I can access the adult programming. Wanna play?”
Gross! Catie spun on Roger, bringing him up short even though he towered a full head over her. He rocked on his steelclad tiptoes as she punched him in the chest with a forefinger. “Are you listening to me, you tin-plated little creep?”
“Anybody ever tell you that you are pretty when you are angry?” Roger tried another Lancelot grin.
“Have you ever heard of Morgan Le Fey?” Catie demanded.
“She was a witch trained by Merlin,” Roger answered. “If you know your King Arthur stuff, you know about her.”
“Well, I’m her,” Catie said, “and unless you want to spend the rest of the demo as an armored toad clunking around on your tiny tin rump all covered in wart pimples, I’d stay away from me if I were you.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Roger said, but he didn’t sound so sure. “I’ve got a big part to play. I’m a hero. Without me, the evil sea hag menacing the Lady in the Lake won’t get killed.”
“I think we’d manage.”
Roger narrowed Lancelot’s china blue eyes. “You’re bluffing.”
“Ribbit,” Catie croaked tauntingly.
“I’m too important to the game,” Roger went on, gathering his courage. “I’m the hero. I’m going to save—”
“A dragon!” someone yelled.
Catie spun and glanced out the nearest window, following the line of people that suddenly formed there. She peered through the glass and spotted the dragon. It was impossible to miss. From the description Matt and Maj had given she felt certain that she’d found their missing dragon. She ran forward, trying to get a closer look.
The dragon flew straight for the castle, quickly passing overhead and out of sight.