Excalibur's Seven - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

SO MANY TIMES, THEY'D come close to losing their own lives. But this time, dying was the least of Kit's worries. As he watched his brother pick up the shards from the ground, he realized that his failure didn't just doom the seven of them--er, the six of them. He doomed the entire kingdom, perhaps the entire world.
The chains were heavy around his wrists as they were dragged through the courtyard, out the portcullis, and down to the village stretched out before them. The people there watched with wide eyes as Kit and his companions were taken to the square.
Silence followed them as they passed, the villagers stopping to stare at the spectacle before them.
They were already bleeding out. Kit couldn't decide whether a noose was a mercy or if it was overkill. He tried not to look at Chalice, he had no idea whether they were even still alive slumped in the arms of a knight, frail wrists bound in iron chains.
Giselle was awake now, escorted by Morgana, whose empty wrist was now wrapped in thick linen. He didn't seem angry about his hand, at least not angry enough to switch sides again.
It hurt to watch. Kit agonized over the thought that he could be dead in that cell, he cried every night, just for him to be alright after all, ready to send them all to their deaths. It felt wrong, watching him escort Giselle to the noose, a grave expression on his face, as though he couldn't do something.
God, he better be planning something.
The knights pushed the people back, clearing a space for the six of them. They were all tossed to the ground in front of the people, and Kit's eyes settled on a line of men off to the side. The Knights of the Round Table watched as two of their own faced the death sentence.
A fanfare played as King Wylan stepped forward, cutting through the crowd and facing his people.
"Citizens of Avalon," he bellowed, opening his arms to greet them all. "Before us are six traitors to the throne. Let them serve as a warning. If any of you wish to disobey my orders, if any of you wish to threaten the throne that rightfully belongs to me, you will face the same fate as these disgraceful individuals."
He nodded to a Knight, and one stepped forward, removing his helmet. Kit and Selene both gasped at the sight of his uncle, the insufferable Sir Conan, ready to usher his wife to her death without so much as a tear.
"Is this who they replaced me with?" Selene whispered, looking up at her husband with loathsome eyes.
Conan's eyes flickered to Giselle. "Is this who you replaced me with?"
"At least she's prettier than you. And just completely better at everything, honestly."
He scoffed and yanked Selene to her feet, ripping the chestplate from her torso. "There's no way a fucking Seelie is nicer than me."
Selene stared him in the face. "Go to hell."
"See you there, my dear," he replied, pulling her up onto the platform.
Kit's stomach churned as Selene was raised up onto a stool, the rope falling loosely around her throat. The Lady didn't show an ounce of fear on her face.
"Any last words, Selene O'Leary?" the King asked.
Selene's face curled into a smirk. "You men will never be half as strong as me, half as good as Giselle, half as clever as Eurion. Don't you ever forget it."
Kit flinched as the stool was kicked from beneath her feet, body falling limp and the rope tightening around her neck. He turned to look at Giselle, who was crying into her hands.
He noticed the shimmer of her skin shining just a little brighter than before. He tried not to get his hopes up, but he didn't dare underestimate the princess, either.
The Seelie let out a yelp as she was pulled to her feet next, the men dragging her to the noose.
"Stop!" Morgana cried. To Kit's surprise, they listened. Once all eyes settled on him, he continued. "You will not enjoy the consequences of killing the Vernal Princess. Killing her alone could get the whole lot of you killed."
"He's a pixie, don't trust hi-"
"Enough," Wylan bellowed, cutting off the Knight. "Leave her. We can keep her contained. Take the boy."
The Knights dropped Giselle, but Kit couldn't even think about his relief anymore. They were taking his son now, up to the platform to be hanged.
"No," Kit breathed. "No, no, you can't do that! Stop, he's just a kid!"
The village was filled with murmurs, and the murmurs rapidly grew into chaos.
Kit looked to see a familiar face at the front of the chaos, fighting against the restraints of the knights keeping the circle back.
"He's a child!" she cried. "The rest can be examples, but not the child!"
A loud blow of trumpets silenced the village, and Wylan motioned to the Knights. Léona fell to the ground at the King's feet, looking up at him with fire in her beautiful brown eyes. Kit's heart tugged at the sight of her, more fearless than he'd ever seen her.
"My dear Léona," Wylan hums. "You used to be such a wonderful woman. What happened?"
Léona's eyes flickered towards Kit's, locking with his for a moment. "I saw the truth," she said, then looked back up at the King. "I realized how much of a privilege it was that I knew where my next meal would come from. I realized that my own people were suffering at the hands of a greedy King. I realized that a perfectly good Prince was cast aside because he had more of a heart than any of you fools, and that scares you."
Wylan laughed. "Is that so? What are you going to do about it?"
Léona's gaze never faltered. "I'm going to do the right thing."
In one swift movement, Léona stood up, pulling a blade from her skirts and lodging it into Wylan's sternum. The King fell back, but the knights didn't hesitate to plunge a blade into the woman's side in return. The fire never died from her eyes, even as her body fell limp to the ground.
Kit stood and watched as the villagers ran forward, crying out in protest. His heart shattered as he watched his people fight for him. And they fought hard, but they were hungry and unarmed and no match for the knights. Regardless, they damn well tried.
The world went quiet around him as he watched his people fall. Bodies lay out before him, cut and bleeding, their last thoughts on rebellion. Their last moments would not be sweet. They would not be peaceful.
And their deaths would all mean nothing.
Kit couldn't hear himself screaming, but as his people fought, and as his son was stood upon the stool, he cried until his voice ran dry.
He watches the stool fly from beneath the boy, watched his feet hang in the air, watched as the world fell into chaos.
With a bright flash of light, Kit felt something hit his chest and send him careening back. His head landed against a hard chestplate and the world went dark.
When he awoke moments later, the village was on fire, and everyone was on the ground. Everyone except for Lionel.
The boy stood at the platform, eyes glowing as bright as the sun, hair a pale silver. Around him were charred streaks against the wood and stone, and he was at the very center of it.
Kit pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as he made his way to his son. He hesitsted to touch him, but Lionel reached out to close the distance, wrapping his small arms around his father's neck. He could feel the power surging through him, and he was pulled back into full consciousness.
It gave him an idea.
"Wake them up," he said, looking to Lionel. "Start with Selene, then the druid."
The boy did as he was told, taking Selene's face in his hands. He watched with a nervous look as he waited for it to work. He almost thought it wouldn't, until she grabbed the boy's wrist, a smile breaking over her face.
"Hey, kiddo," she said hoarsely.
"Hi. I'm gonna wake up Chalice," he said, turning away to fetch the druid. Kit was a little less confident about them.
He helped Selene to her feet.
"What happened? I thought they hung me," she breathed.
"Lionel did something. He... I don't know. We need to get out of here before they all wake up."
He wanted to be surprised that Selene could still walk after all this, but he knew her better than that.
The sound of coughing pulled his attention away, over towards the druid. They were awake, by some miracle, but Lionel struggled to help them up.
Kit found Eurion, shaking her awake. She was easy to rouse, and her eyes fluttered open almost immediately. "Come on, get up. We need to bail."
The thief sat up with a groan, looking around her with a furrowed brow. "What happened?"
"No time. Help Chalice, we need to leave before everyone else gets up."
She nodded, pushing herself up and rushing to Chalice's side, as much as she was capable of rushing.
Selene pulled Giselle from her sleep, and soon the six of them were all awake and trying to get on their feet.
"What about Morgana?" Giselle asked with weary eyes. Kit tossed a look to the others, who were successfully getting Chalice on their feet, and then to Morgana's limp body on the ground only a few yards away. They could take another.
He nodded to the princess, stepping around her to scoop Morgana up from the ground. He prayed the Unseelie would stay asleep.
"Where do we go?" Selene asked.
"Faerie," Giselle croaked. "We'll be safe at home."
They didn't spend another second there, and they disappeared into the woods as fast as they were able to. They only had one shard, and Kit's idiocy got half the village killed. But maybe if they got to safety, they could come up with a way to prevent anyone else from suffering.
They walked as far as they could, until they reached a spring tucked away in a meadow. They washed their wounds, and Kit was relieved to discover that Chalice still had an eye. He doubted they'd ever see out of it again, though. Giselle had no strength to heal anyone, but they would all survive until they reached Giselle's kingdom where someone could help, they were sure.
They got back on their feet soon, heading into the thick of the woods until they stumbled across a way in.
It was dizzying as always, stepping into the other world. He knew these woods, though, colorful and bright. They were in the Vernal Kingdom.
Guards and medics rushed to their aid as they approached the palace. The moon was twice as big and twice as bright here, and Kit could see everything that was happening, including the blood seeping through the bandages on Morgana's arm.
"Can we take him?" a woman asked, pointing to the Unseelie. They knew Morgana well here.
"He needs to be locked up. Lead me to the dungeon and heal him there," he said.
The woman watched with confusion, but she obeyed. The three of them left the commotion, stepped into the palace and weaving through the halls.
He shouldn't have been surprised about the dungeons, wrapped from top to bottom in flora. A cell sat empty on the other end of the room, and Kit brought Morgana to it, laying him on the bed of daisies.
The nurse tended to his hand, turning it from an open wound to a tender stub in moments.
"Do we want to give him a new hand?" she asked.
Kit watched Morgana with careful eyes. "Yeah. Okay. Just a prosthetic, though. Don't do anything... magical."
The medic nodded and measured Morgana's good hand. Once she had what she needed, she and Kit stepped away from the cell. The medic left the room, but Kit stayed and watched with empty eyes as the guard locked the door, putting a barrier between Morgana and the rest of the world.
"Do you need a medic?" asked the guard.
Truth be told, he probably did. But no matter how bad his wounds were, Kit felt nothing now.
"I'm fine," he murmured.
The guard nodded and stepped into his post, thinking nothing more of it.
I'm fine was the biggest lie Kit has ever told in his life.