My brilliant plan landed like a giant wet shit at a baby shower.

"Can I take it," Owain asked tactfully, "you have never constructed a bridge before?"

I shrugged. "How hard could it be?"

"Well, without wanting to pour unnecessarily cold water on your enthusiasm," he continued, "a little more difficult than 'let's chop down lots of trees, pile them on the lake and walk across'."

"But in theory, it could work?"

"In theory, you could stick a rod up my arse and use me as a punt to get across, but that doesn't make it a good idea." Mark seemed to have decided this conversation needed his input.

"Well, at least we wouldn't have to worry about buoyancy, would we, you fat fuck?"

"You will not speak to my king in that manner!" Volka pushed forward.

"Dude, the only way you could be more of a Red Shirt in this situation would be if I didn't know your name and was referring you to Vin Diesel's less attractive brother. Settle down. Mummy and Daddy are talking."

"Will you all be quiet!" Arthur didn't shout, which I think was a sign of his growing authority over the small group. That we all did shut up, more so.

He turned to me, eyes flashing. "Morgan, you're sure there's nothing we can do to take on these Kraken?"

I had given them all the skinny on the beasts at the bottom of the lake. It would be fair to say this hadn't done much for morale.

"Merlin's pretty concerned about them. I'm largely up for anything - I think my record's pretty clear on that front - but I can't even look at pictures of these things without going slightly out of mind; I'm not sure we've got much mileage in a straight-up battle."

Arthur stood on the treeline's edge, looking at the island in the middle of the lake. "I don't suppose you could, I don't know, just fly me over there?"

Owain and Mark shouted their disapproval of that plan. It was clear anything that didn't have them arriving simultaneously would be out. Not that my acting as some sort of flying delivery girl had much mileage, anyway.

"It won't work, boss. The sword's giving off an anti-Qi all around it." Merlin had just kept the good news rolling. "It's not too wide while it is in the stone, apparently, but it'd drop me and any passenger straight into the drink. Not that I've mastered flight anyway. From what the Big M tells me, it would be like hitting a brick wall, even if I was to take a big run-up."

"Could you throw me?"

That was not a terrible idea, actually. Since moving to Harry, I certainly had the strength to do it. But I was worried about the fairly high bar of consequences should I get it wrong. I didn't have a good track record for my aim. And playing Qi Coconut Shy with the Once and Future King over the top of ravenous sea monsters from the nether-most depths of Hell would be a vibe. "I'm not feeling that as a great idea, your majesty."

Arthur sucked air through his teeth in frustration. "We can, literally, see the object of our quest just there. I'm not turning around because we fear what's in the water."

"I'll take one," Lancelot had, hitherto, been silent during our discussion so far.

I turned to him, shaking my head. "You don't understand. These things are . . . "

"Matters not. In the way they are. Kill one, I will."

And with no further ado whatsofuckingever, he ran towards the lake.

*

Although he hid it well, Lancelot was excited.

He loved being part of Arthur's inner circle and had really enjoyed his time at Tintagel. However, the fight with the Shriket aside, he had not done anything recently to raise his heart rate.

Coming from a culture that measured its heroes' worth by great deeds, he was worried he was losing his edge. Even his skirmishes with the Fae lacked a certain something, as he could tell they were holding back.

But an . . . what did pretty hair call it? A Kraken? Well, that sounded like it would be something worth his time.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Lancelot had nearly reached the edge of the lake when he realised the wizard had jogged to follow him. Her lips were tight with fear, and her skin had gone even paler than usual, but he liked the firm resolve in her eyes. His mother would have torn the heart from this one and served it to him in a stew.

"You help?" he asked levelly/

"In lieu of a better plan, I'm your huckleberry. Still think a massive fuck off bridge would be a better solution."

He smiled and shook his head. He never understood much of what she said, but she was nice to look at. He sniffed, enjoying the odd spicey smell he had learned meant she was channelling her magic.

He was unusual amongst his tribe that he had not a a trace of . . . what did pretty hair call it? Chi? Qi? Something like that. Well, he did not have any of it within his spirit. His mother had explained that she had beaten the spark out of him to make him into a better warrior. He had no idea whether that was true, but he was certainly faster and stronger than any of his people who could make pretty lights or make it rain. In fact, until that big man who looked like Arthur's father, he had not come across anyone who could keep up with him.

That defeat still burned within him. He ached for another opportunity to attack that cheater. But until that happened, he could make do with one of these things.

"Look," pretty hair tugged at his sleeve, pulling him back from the edge of the lake. "We can't possibly take out three of these at once. We need to lure one out of the water but leave the other two behind."

Lancelot nodded understandingly. "Good plan," he said and then dived into the lake.

*

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

I liked Lancelot. I liked his smile. I liked his muscles. And I liked the way his shirt fell off at a moment's notice. I liked him much more when he was nowhere near Guinevere, and I didn't have to worry about cockblocking him. I tink I recognised we both had a similar sense of 'fuck it's running through our soul, and I certainly respected his fighting ability.

But, man. The motherfucker was stupid.

The second he dropped below the surface of the lake, I closed my eyes and reached out for him, seeking any connection I could try to mitigate the massive damage I knew he would be receiving from the freezing water.

But I couldn't get a hold of him. It was like the water itself, having been around Caeldfwch, had taken on some of its Qi rejection properties. Not entirely; I could just about track Lancelot's progress down towards one of the . . . nope, don't look, need to stay sane right now. However, I couldn't connect any of my Qi to him.

, my dear, and quickly.

I wasted a few seconds trying to work out what the Big M meant, but then I was on it, aiming a thin tunnel of concentrated air down into the water and around Lancelot. I hadn't tried to hold this technique for any length of time, usually using it as a quick blast of 'get the fuck away', but I could tell what was needed here.

The cone of air reached Lancelot, and then he was upright and walking forward, not swimming. If he thought anything odd about the transformation of his travelling medium, he didn't spare so much a backward glance. His skin, though . . .

Careful, my dear, Merlin cautioned as I tried to do something about the insane chilblains that covered the man's body. You must maintain while healing his wounds. We have not experimented with holding multiple techniques at once before. If you are too heavy-handed, you could - at best - burn out all of your Qi and - at worse - burn your core entirely away.

Awesome.

I did my best to reduce the amount of my paint flowing towards the pocket of air around Lancelot. This was easier than I had expected. I guess Merlin was right when he said I tended to waste colossal amounts of energy when I used techniques. It was like turning down a tap until just the right amount of water flowed out.

Very nice, my dear. Now, can you remember what Melehan did to heal Arthur's burns?

My mind flashed back to the Saxon wizard who had saved me on more than one occasion. He had been there when I accidentally cooked Arthur during our first meeting. I mean, I say 'I' as if I don't obviously mean Drynwyn. Melehan had used his Wood Qi in an interesting way to stabilise and then begin to heal the burning king.

I fumbled in my inventory for Melehan's Curing Rock, which I had created using the Saxon's Qi technique, and prepared to throw it to Lancelot.

No, my dear. Trust me when I say he will need both of his hands.

I glanced up and saw Lancelot was nearing one of the . . . things. I quickly looked away as the tunnel of air shook as I momentarily lost control of my technique.

You need to act quickly, my dear. That young man is astonishingly pig-headed, but even he cannot ignore the pain much longer.

I gripped the Rock and tried to feel how its power worked. The smells that I associated with Melehan came rushing back. Lavender, predominantly, and then the other herbs as secondary notes. I had bunches of all of them in my inventory. If there was one thing Alchemy levelling needed, it was millions of herbs. I grabbed hold of a massive bunch of them with my Qi.

Okay, my dear. Listen carefully. You have the shape of it, but you need to base it in a liquid. I know we've not had much luck with Water Qi, but this is . . . as you would say . . . my wheelhouse. Can you let me take charge for a moment?"

I paused. It had been some time since I'd fully let the Big M take the reins. Although we hadn't really explored it, I knew he'd been up to something naughty with Melehan when I'd been stuck in the time loop in Aurelius' Dark Tower.

I think he was ashamed enough of what happened there not to try to elbow my consciousness aside and take permanent control but . . . fucking hell. It felt like a risk. But then I saw Lancelot stumble for a second; his skin blackened and peeling off. And I got over myself.

snapped into being the moment Merlin was in charge.

A beautiful, twisted coil of water - Wood Qi running through it - flowed down the centre of the air tunnel to strike Lancelot, driving him forward. My Qi levels dropped to the floor with the effort of maintaining two techniques at once, but the barbarian was looking pretty chipper in no time.

And not a moment too soon because, as I watched, he walked straight into a Kraken.