Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #18 September 2015 | Page 38

The stone Merlin handed Arthur was warm, as
if a life dwelled within, pulsing gently. Black as night,
it seemed to absorb the light from the candle on the
table beside it. Only a single line of white zig-zagging
unevenly across the stone’s surface reflected the flame
in a dance of its own.

pile!”
Arthur blushed and muttered something that he
intended to sound more or less agreeable.
“Uh, where was I?” Merlin scratched his chin
with his free hand. “Oh yes. Tip the stone out and wait
for the count of three long breaths. The arms will be
gone.”

“What does it do?” Arthur reached out a finger
to touch the stone.
Merlin slapped his hand away. “It sends objects into an another world.”

So simple.
Arthur doubted it, nothing was that simple.
“And how do I get back to the future?”

“A what?” Arthur’s brow furrowed. He tore
his eyes from the stone and gave Merlin a questioning
look.

Merlin shook his head and lowered the bag
into Arthur’s hand “I don’t kno--:

Merlin waved his hand dismissively. “You
wouldn’t understand. Oh, close your mouth, I hardly understand myself. Suffice to say it will send the
swords elsewhere, to a place where they can’t harm
mankind.”

Apparently, the gods had an answer, for the
minute the bag touched Arthur’s palm, his head burst
into sudden pain, flashing, blinding light and he was
gone.

“Can they harm the people there?” Arthur
asked. Should they be making all the swords disappear? Perhaps his people could use some...

***
“Oh, there you are, welcome back,” Grace’s
drawl was unmistakable near Arthur’s left ear. Her
breath caressed his lobe and slid across his cheek,
laced with something his nose didn’t recognise.

“No, they can’t,” Merlin said sharply, “There’s
no one where the stone will send the weapons and
yes, you have to send them all. I know you too well,
my boy?” The druid smiled and shook a finger at
Arthur. “You can unite the rest of the tribes of Britain
with what you have. After we deal with this. And that
brings us to the problem of how to send you back to
the future.”

“Would you like a cuppa?”
“Cuppa?” Arthur rubbed his eyes, opened them
and looked around, seeing Grace crouching beside him
in the centre of her room.

Apparently pondering this, Merlin reached for
a bag, turned it inside out and scooped the stone up.
He turned the bag around and pulled the drawstring
tight, trapping the stone inside.

“Coffee,” She held a cup under his nose and he
breathed the steam in deeply, appreciating the strange,
compelling aroma.
“Uh, thank you, no.” He shook his head, the
ache gone now and remembered why he was here. “I
got some help, Merlin created a magic stone to remove
the swords…”

“You must be careful with this. Open the bag
and tip it onto the top sword of the pile.”
“What if they’re not in a pile?”
Merlin snorted. “Then make a pile boy, make a

“Arms,” Grace corrected, rising to her feet and
walking to