be stuck on each other?” Val asked.
“Worked, didn’t it?” Ari said.
Val chortled. “For now. And you might want to bag that crown, Gwen. Why did you even bring it?”
“For my reasons,” Gwen snapped, sliding the crown back into her bag.
None of them were prepared for CamelotTM. The park was worse than the ads and Ari’s imagination combined. The streets were cobbled and outfitted with handmade wooden signs, a medieval paradise like Lionel in appearance, but reeking of the capitalistic starship mall Heritage, which was now orbiting Old Earth in great mangled hunks.
The crowds were thick and loud, riddled with feasting, yelling adults, and screaming, overstimulated children. A ride before them was made to look like a jousting ring, while a pavilion to the side boasted a sign: PRINCESS MAKEOVERS. Everything was gendered to the hilt, as if the past’s hardcore misogyny was just a nostalgic throwback that had been transformed into wholesome family fun. Not to mention that the park was teeming with Mercer associates. No wonder the Ketchan elders had referred to it as a fortress.
“This place makes me sick.”
Gwen tugged Ari’s hand, somehow convincing Ari’s feet to move. “We have to go straight through. The sword is at the middle of the park, but we should split up. Val, get in position on the far side. Signal us if something is off. Amal will be here in,” she checked her watch, “thirty minutes.”
“Shit, getting in took too long.”
“Move.”
Val sped off in the opposite direction with a small, affectionate eye roll. Constantly rubbing shoulders in the crowd, Ari and Gwen pushed forward until they were sweating profusely. Ari’s nerves were getting the best of her.
“This will be over soon,” Gwen whispered soothingly. “Pull the sword fast. From there we should have the security of the crowd’s excitement until Amal shows up. And I have no doubt that the Administrator will seize a chance to face us… and then we use the chalice.”
“What if it doesn’t work like that?” Ari asked quietly.
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“It’s not Excalibur, Gwen. I don’t have King Arthur’s soul anymore. I might not be able to lift this sword, and we need to have a game plan for when that happens.”
Gwen pushed her toward a small fortune-teller’s booth. The attendant took one look at Gwen and dropped to her knee. “Queen Gweneviere!”
Gwen pulled the woman to her feet and kissed her on both cheeks. The woman burst into sudden tears, and Gwen moved fast. “I need you to do something for me. Take my crown to…”
Ari didn’t hear the rest as Gwen whispered in the woman’s ear. She nodded slowly. “Yes, my queen. Of course.”
“You will be free soon,” Gwen said, her commanding presence slipping over her like a perfectly tailored dress. “I promise.”
The woman disappeared, and Ari eyed Gwen. “What are you up to?”
“Giving my people some hope,” she said. “Do you really think the sword won’t free itself for you?”
“I don’t know. I just think we should have an alternate plan.” Ari looked at Gwen, truly looked at her. No wonder Mercer hadn’t recognized her at the gates; she’d been hollowed by pregnancy and the Middle Ages, but she was still the Queen of Lionel. She was still so magnificent that her former subjects took one glance at her and dropped to a knee.
“Ari, we have twenty-four minutes until the last Ketchan starship covers this dome like a beacon of unstoppable change. This is what we wanted. A last stand with witnesses.”
“It’s not all I want.” Ari grabbed Gwen by the hips, deadlifted her onto the fortune-teller’s high table, and kissed her. Gwen’s next words disappeared into the press of their bodies. Ari’s mouth couldn’t get enough, her hands pulling Gwen’s hair back as she tasted the skin of her neck, the edges of her breasts. It was sweet but also desperate.
Gwen gripped Ari with her arms and with her legs. And she didn’t let go. Neither of them did. “We’re going to make it through this,” she said in Ari’s ear.
“Okay,” Ari’s voice was rough. “But do I have to wear this fucking outfit?”
Gwen laughed warmly, cupping Ari’s cheek.
Val’s voice floated up from Gwen’s watch. “Ari? Gwen? What in the hell is happening? You should be at the sword by now.”
Gwen stared at Ari’s costume, and she started to peel off the jumpsuit. “Slight change of plans. We’re going disguised as ourselves.”
“That makes zero sense!” Val hollered.
Ari slipped out of the dress, glad she’d convinced Val to let her wear