We Gotta Get Out Of This Place

The sword slid up, an inch at a time, until finally the stone released it with an almost audible sigh. Jon shifted his grip on the handle and held it up over his head for a moment before bringing it down to his side. The hum of current had not subsided with the sword’s release, but grown stronger. Now there was a steady pulse through the silver and steel, a pulse that regulated to Jon’s own heartbeat.

“Jon?” Richie asked tentatively. “You okay man?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “Holy shit, Rich. I can feel the sword’s fucking heartbeat. How the hell does a piece of steel have a heartbeat?” He looked at wonder at the weapon in his hand. “I have fucking Excalibur in my hands.”

~ ~ ~

Merlin jerked from his tablets and tomes with a start. “They have done it,” he said. After looking around him to make sure he was alone, Merlin crossed the room and stood in front of a painting of Camelot. After a few moments, the painting began to shimmer. The vibrant colors of Arthur’s flags and gardens faded, and in its place was a prophecy.

The Prophecy.

And now the first condition was neatly crossed out. “It begins,” Merlin said softly, fear widening his eyes for the first time in centuries.

~ ~ ~

Elsewhere, someplace bleak and sulfurous, Lucie grinned evilly. “And so it begins.” He began to make preparations.

~ ~ ~

Richie smiled. “Yeah you do have fucking Excalibur in your hands.” He reached for the sword, and Jon reluctantly let his friend take it. The moment the silver left his grip, Jon no longer felt the pulse of the steel, and felt strangely bereft. “It doesn’t feel like anything special to me,” Richie said. “I got more of a feeling when I was looking at the armor over there. Still,” he sliced the air in front of him dramatically, “this is pretty hot shit.” He handed the sword back to Jon.

“So, now what do we do, Nimue?” Jon said, turning around. The hall was empty. He turned back to Richie. “Where the hell did she go?”

~ ~ ~

On shore, Nimue joined Fiona and Morganna. “The fair one has done it; he has released Excalibur. It is bonding to him now, may even have already done so. Only one other time have I seen a man bond with the sword so quickly.”

“I told you he was the one,” Fiona said smugly. “Now, where are they?”

Nimue laughed. “Why, still in the castle of course! If they must be bright enough to match wits with your brother, they surely can find their way out of an enchanted underwater castle.”

Morganna smiled in amusement, but Fiona was not pleased. “Let us help them,” she said.

“No,” Nimue answered. She gathered stones from the water’s edge and formed them into a circle on the ground. “We will sit,” she blinked and luxurious divans shimmered into existence out of thin air. “And we will wait.”

~ ~ ~

“She’s gone?” Richie spun around in a full circle on the table. “Well I’ll be damned,” he said. Shrugging, he hopped down from the altar. “Guess we have to find our own way out.”

“Of a magic castle that’s sitting at the bottom of a lake,” Jon said wryly. “Sure, piece of cake.” Jon hopped down, off the table, careful not to bang the sword. “What the hell do I do with this thing?”

“I dunno,” Richie answered. “Stick it through your belt loop or something.”

Jon chuckled, but did just that, neatly slicing the loop from his jeans. “Well?” he said to Richie. “Any other bright ideas?”

“Yeah,” he answered, laughing. “Don’t give that thing back to me. If it’s that sharp, I’m liable to hurt myself!”

They left the great room and walked back down the hall to the approximate spot where they had appeared. They stood there and waited, but nothing happened. An enormous oaken door loomed before them, damp around the edges.

“No way in HELL I wanna open that door, bro,” Richie said. “We’ll drown for sure.”

“You’re probably right.” Jon thought for a moment. “Let’s look around. It’s a frickin’ castle; there’s got to be a tower or turret or a dungeon or something.”

“What good is that going to do us?” Richie asked.

“How the hell do I know?” Jon retorted. “Would you rather do that or hang around here and wait. Maybe there’s some sort of hallway or tunnel or something.”

“Alright, alright,” Richie said.

The two men searched the expansive ground floor for over an hour, searching for stairs, but didn’t find any. They also didn’t find any windows other than the stained glass ones in the massive great room. As they stood staring at the windows Richie gave voice to a question that was bothering Jon.

“If we’re really at the bottom of the lake,” he asked, “where is the sunlight coming from?”

“Fuck! That’s what was strange about this room.”

Richie looked at him askance. “THAT is what you focused in on? Not the portraits of King Arthur and his Knights? Not the army of armor? Not that knife through the big freaking table?” He shook his head. “Your brain is fucked up.”

“Been hanging around with you too long,” Jon quipped, smiling.

The men approached the window, and stopped directly beneath it. There was no way in hell they’d be able to reach it – not unless they could somehow build a ladder – and like the massive oak door, they didn’t really want to open it. “Well now what?” Richie asked.

Jon shrugged and crossed to the altar. He hopped up to sit on it, and placed the sword next to him. Maybe it was instinct, but he could feel a sense of urgency, a sort of warning, and he didn't want to let it get too far from him.“I haven’t got a clue.”

“Suppose Fee and Anna are here somewhere, watching and laughing?” Richie asked, hopping up next to his friend.

Jon’s eyes lit up. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.” He stood up on the table and cupped his hands around his mouth. “HEY, FAAAAAAAAAAIRIEEEEEES!” he bellowed, his call echoing through the chamber.

Richie burst out laughing. “If that doesn’t piss off Fiona enough to get her to pop in, then she isn’t here. I’m out of ideas. But why would Nimue leave us here? And why aren’t the girls wondering where the hell we are?”

The two men sat there side by side, staring at the stained glass window. They would have sworn that there was sunlight streaming in through the glass. Finally, unable to stand it any more, Jon hopped down, pulling the sword after him as naturally as if he’d been doing it his whole life. There was a certain grace and simplicity of motion to his movements. As if he was fully aware of the length and weight of the sword, and was therefore able to keep it from bumping against the stone floor or the marble altar. Jon was no longer simply himself; the sword had become almost an extension of his arm.

“Rich, where IS the sunlight coming from? Suppose it’s some sort of magic?”

“I suppose it could be,” he said. He looked at Jon. The arm holding the sword was flexed with its weight and the sword appeared to have a subtle glow about it. “Your sword is glowing too, kinda like the window.”

Jon looked at the sword, then at the window, and back at Richie. “Holy shit, look at that. Do you suppose this sword is magic, too?”

“Wouldn’t it have to be?”

“To penetrate this marble slab, it’d have to be. Huh.” He held it in front of his face. “Magic. Maybe we can magic ourselves out of here. We supposedly have powers, too, remember.”

“Shit, I forgot.” He smiled and looped an arm around Jon’s shoulders. “Hello, there Siren. Wanna lure me into temptation with your golden throat?”

“Fuck you,” Jon said, laughing and shaking off his friend’s arm. “Maybe that’s the trick to getting out of here. Use our – ugh – powers to help us?”

“But didn’t the girls say that we can’t use our powers for our own benefit?” He flexed his fingers. “You’re already losing your hair, but I really don’t want to fuck up my hands.”

“Focus, asshole,” Jon said. “Look at it this way. We don’t get our asses out of here, we don’t get to save the world. I’d say this counts as unselfish use, wouldn’t you? They meant we can’t use it to get laid or something.”

“Jon, man, we’ve been using our voices for YEARS to get laid,” he chuckled.

Jon had to laugh at that. “Yeah, ya got me there, but we didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Alright,” Richie said, standing up. He put his hands out, as if bracing for a fall. “We’re magic. We use our voices to do what, sing us out of here?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“So what, we make shit up?”

Jon thought for a minute than laughed. “Nah, bro; we gotta know some song about getting out of something.” He thought for a moment, and started to sing. “Show me the way to go home…”

Richie laughed. “Nice,” he said. “I’m tired and I wanna go to bed.”

The sword in Jon’s hand started to glow a little more, and he could feel the hum grow stronger in his hand. “I think we’re on the right track here, man,” Jon said.

Richie smiled widely, but it didn’t last. “That’s great, bro, but will the sword’s magic take me too?”

Jon gripped Richie’s forearm. “Not sure, but I sure as hell will. You ready?” Richie nodded.

They joined their voices together, in the timeless, perfect harmony they had always enjoyed.

“Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I wanna go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it went straight to my head
Where ever I may go
On land, or sea, or snow
You can always hear me
Singing this song
Show me the way to go home.”

As the song progressed, the sword glowed brighter, pulsed stronger. Jon felt a pull. “Keep singing,” he said. They looped through the song again. The sword led them through the great room, down the hall and to the massive door. The third time through the song, the sword touched the giant brass ring mounted to the middle of the door, then dropped quickly to the floor.

~ ~ ~

On shore, Nimue closed her eyes for a moment. “They have embraced their destiny,” she said softly. “They have used the power of their voices and the magic in the sword to find their way to the ring.”

Fiona and Morganna looked at each other, then at Nimue. “They did?” Fiona asked, incredulous.

Nimue nodded and smiled. “It won’t be long now before they figure out how to get out.” She stood and shook out imaginary wrinkles in her robe. “Tell them congratulations and good luck.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Morganna demanded.

With a saucy smile, she raised her arms slightly from her sides, and Nimue disappeared.

“Merciful Heavens, I thought she’d never leave!” a masculine voice rang out from behind Fiona and Morganna, startling them.

“Merlin,” Morganna said, “what brings you here, and why would you not show yourself with Nimue present?”

“I have spent enough time with that witch to last me a thousand eternities.” He told them in a few brief sentences about being tricked by Nimue and held against his will in her enchanted castle. She had fancied herself in love with the wizard and wanted nothing more than to make him love her. When she discovered that magic cannot sway the true nature of emotion, she reluctantly gave up her prize.

The sisters shared a look and Morganna’s eyes widened when she saw the laughter nearly spilling from her sister’s mouth. Thankfully, Morganna thought, Merlin did not notice the younger fey’s disrespect.

“I have come with a warning for your charges,” Merlin continued. “I felt the emergence of Excalibur. You know if I felt it, he felt it too. He will not let it go unchallenged.”

~ ~ ~

“Okay,” Jon said. “This is the way out. Now what?” He looked down at the floor. “Holy shit, look at that!” They were standing in a perfect ring of stones.

“Now,” Richie said, pursing his lips and tapping them with a long, slender finger. “A little Animals perhaps?”

Jon chuckled and shook his head. “You got it, brother.”

They cleared their throats and sang together:

“We gotta get out of this place
If it’s the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
‘Cause man, there’s a better life for me and you.”

They suddenly found themselves standing on shore, quite dry, looking into the startled faces of their guardians. Looming behind them was a large man, regarding them curiously.

“You have done well, mortals,” Merlin said, pulling himself up to his full, impressive height. “You have passed the first test.” He looked behind the men and immediately took a step backwards. “Now it is time to pass the second." He looked directly at Jon then. "Know this, while your bond with Excalibur is still new, guard well your soul. Control the sword; don't let it control you.” In the blink of an eye he disappeared.

“What the hell?” Jon asked, turning around to see what Merlin had been looking at.

Jon reached blindly behind him, pulling Richie around so they were both looking at the same thing.

“Oh shit,” they said.