Twist of the Blade

1. Title Page
   
2. Book & copyright information
   
3. Dedication
   
4. Chapter One
   
5. Chapter Two
   
6. Chapter Three
   
7. Chapter Four
   
8. Chapter Five
   
9. Chapter Six
   
10. Chapter Seven
    
11. Chapter Eight
    
12. Chapter Nine
    
13. Chapter Ten
    
14. Chapter Eleven
    
15. Chapter Twelve
    
16. Chapter Thirteen
    
17. Acknowledgements
    
18. About the Author
    

2517 Victoria Avenue, Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada S4P 0T2

www.coteaubooks.com

© Edward Willett, 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll-free to 1-800-893-5777.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Edited by Matthew Hughes

Cover and text designed by Tania Craan

Typeset by Susan Buck

Printed and bound in Canada at Houghton Boston

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Willett, Edward, 1959-, author

Twist of the blade / Edward Willett.

(Shards of Excalibur ; book 2)

Issued in print and electronic formats.

ISBN 978-1-55050-599-3 (pbk.).--ISBN 978-1-55050-600-6

(pdf).--ISBN 978-1-55050-807-9 (html).--ISBN

978-1-55050-808-6 (mobi)

I. Title. II. Series: Willett, Edward, 1959-. Shards of Excalibur ; book 2

PS8595.I5424T85 2014 jC813'.54 C2014-904674-X

C2014-904675-8

Library of Congress Control Number
201493836
4

Coteau Books gratefully acknowledges the financial support of its publishing program by: the Saskatchewan Arts Board, The Canada Council for the Arts, the Government of Canada through the Canada Book
Fund and the Government of Saskatchewan through the Creative Industry Growth and Sustainability program of the Ministry of Parks, Culture and Sport.

Four nieces and a nephew – five books

This one is for Keisha

CHAPTER ONE

SLEEPLESS

Through a nightmare forest of black, twisted trees, Ariane ran barefoot, pursued by a demon.

A thin skein of icy snow covered the barren ground, making every step agony, as though a thousand glass needles were piercing her skin. She knew she was bleeding, knew the prints she was leaving behind her were red with blood, knew the demon must be maddened by it, by its smell, by the promise of tasting it, hot and fresh, when at last it caught her...and she could hear it now, hear the heavy thump of its feet, hear the rush of breath from its lungs...

And then she caught her foot on a branch, fell headlong, and rolled into a ball, screaming, as she waited for the demon’s teeth and claws to rend her flesh....

~~~

Ariane jerked upright to the sound of laughter. Confused, heart still pounding from the terror of the dream, she stared around at a classroom full of amused and scornful faces, then twisted her head to Mrs. Muirhead, who held a copy of
Macbeth
in one hand and was tapping the end of a ballpoint pen against it with the other. “I asked you a question, Ariane.”

Ariane glanced down at the open book in which her forehead had been planted a moment before. Macbeth’s speech stared back.
Is this a dagger which I see before me...?
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Muirhead I...I didn’t hear it.”

Mrs. Muirhead uttered a noise that Ariane supposed would be spelled in books “Hmmmph,” then added, “If you can’t stay awake in class, Ariane, perhaps you should go to bed earlier. Samantha, would you care to answer?”

Samantha began rattling on about Macbeth’s tortured conscience but, through the cotton wool that filled her head, Ariane couldn’t focus on a single word. She yawned, but snapped her mouth closed with an audible click of teeth when she caught Mrs. Muirhead’s narrowed gaze.

English class ended at last. The other students streamed out. No one talked to her, of course. As a foster kid who
had been suspended for fighting in her
first
week at school,
she was as popular as poison oak at a nudist colony – and that was
before
the rumors started swirling about her dabbling in witchcraft. With her limbs weighed down by weariness, by the time she gathered her books and moved toward the door the other students had long fled.

But before she could make her own escape, Mrs. Muirhead’s gentle voice stopped her. “Ariane, is there something wrong? Something I can help with?”

Ariane stopped, staring longingly at the open door.
Well
, she imagined herself saying,
it’s like this: I’m the heir of the Lady of the Lake. I can dissolve into fresh water and magically transport myself through rivers and lakes. A shard of King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, is strapped to my side right now. I and that funny redheaded kid, Wally Knight, brought it back from Yellowknife just a couple of weeks ago. We’re in a life-and-death struggle with Merlin, aka Rex Major, the fabulously powerful and wealthy computer magnate, to recover the other four shards, and he’s sent a demon to haunt my dreams. Do you think you could help me with an exorcism?

But of course all she actually said, as she turned her back on freedom to face Mrs. Muirhead, was, “I’m all right. I’m just not sleeping well.”

“Problems at home?” Mrs. Muirhead said sympathetically. “Have you thought about seeing Mr. Yasinowski?”

Ariane pictured herself telling the school’s incredibly stuffy guidance counsellor, whose pale face and earnest tone always reminded her of an undertaker, about the demon in her dreams, and snorted. Mrs. Muirhead’s friendly expression stiffened.

“No, I don’t think he can help,” Ariane said hurriedly. “Really. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” And then, at last, she made her getaway.

In the corridor she leaned her head against the cold metal of a locker, eyes closed. She took no notice of the students brushing past until one slammed into her, spinning her around and sending her books flying from her hand and skittering across the floor. She straightened and glared at the retreating backs of four girls. One looked over her shoulder with a sweetly poisonous smile. Then they rounded the corner by the library and were gone.

Flish
, she thought.
It figures.

Felicia Knight – Wally’s sister, no less! – and her three cohorts had made it their personal mission to make Ariane’s life at Oscana Collegiate one long trip through Hell. She thought she’d frightened them away for good the last time they’d squared off, when she’d used the power of Excalibur to shape water into a weapon…but Flish, it seemed, didn’t scare that easily.

She felt the urge to chase her, teach her once and for all what it meant to mess with the heir of the Lady of the Lake...but she fought down the urge, pushed it away from her.
Save it
, she thought.
Flish isn’t your biggest concern. Rex Major is.

As Ariane bent down to pick up her books, the bell rang...which meant she was late for Algebra – the class she was already doing so badly in that she had to stay late on Thursdays for remedial coaching.

My life just gets better and better
, she thought, and set off wearily down the hall.

~~~

Walter Arthur Knight the Third, known to friends and enemies alike as Wally, was having a much better day than Ariane. He’d successfully produced hydrogen in Chemistry and had aced a history test. (Although he almost wished he hadn’t. The teacher had praised him in front of the class, leading Simon Spencer, the hulking giant who claimed to be fourteen like Wally but looked twenty-five, to loudly proclaim that Wally must have cheated – as if no one could get a good mark on a test simply by paying attention in class and even studying once in a while.)

Ariane had promised to meet him for lunch, but failed to show – again.
Probably fell asleep.
He shook his head. Ever since they’d returned from Yellowknife, she’d looked more and more exhausted each day.
I hope she’s not sick
, he thought. Still, without her there – and nobody else willing to sit at his table – he at least had the chance to finish his new favourite book,
The Complete Klutz’s Guide to Medieval Swordsmanship
.

Whether because of the book or for some other reason, fencing practice after school went particularly well. Wally had the oddest sensation that everyone else had inexplicably worsened in the two weeks since his adventures with Ariane. Even Nick Barber, the team’s top fencer, seemed to telegraph every move, so that Wally knew what Nick was going to do before he did it. Of course, Nick still managed to beat Wally without much difficulty, thanks to his longer reach. Wally was aware of the fencing coach, Natasha Mueller, watching him closely all practice, and when it was over, while the other fencers were heading to the showers, she pulled him aside.

“You have come a very long way this fall,” Coach Mueller said. A tiny, whip-thin woman, she smiled at him, green eyes sparkling beneath her trademark purple beret. “An amazingly long way. I think spraining your wrist a few weeks ago actually made you better.”