Or was it?
Marc looked back down at Trystan. He still lay motionless, though the bleeding had stopped. He held Trystan’s hand and watched his face intently, hoping for a sign of life to return.
“Trystan?” he rasped, his throat tight, strained. “Please, if you can hear me. Please come back.”
No response.
“Please,” Marc whispered. He hung his head and closed his eyes.
Rough fingers gently squeezed Marc’s hand. His breathing hitched. He opened his eyes to find Trystan’s weary blue ones looking back. Marc froze, afraid to move. Afraid it wasn’t real.
Trystan searched Marc’s eyes, so filled with worry and disbelief. “You kept your promise.”
Fresh tears pricked the corners of Marc’s eyes, and his heart lurched. “And you owe me an explanation,” Marc croaked.
A shadow wolf leapt over them and clamped its jaws around the neck of an advancing demon. It sank its teeth into the demon’s seared flesh and tore it open.
“Later. We need to stop them.” Trystan sat up and flinched at the mild sting in his side.
“Are you all right?”
Trystan placed his hand over his stab wound. “I think so.”
“No more dying today.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Trystan grunted.
“Oh, the stone!” Marc shifted and pushed to his feet. “It’s appeared. Hurry. You need to put Excalibur into the stone.”
“What of Morgaine?”
“Dead, as is her army. Only the demons remain.” Marc reached down to help Trystan, grabbing his forearm to guide him up, but Trystan didn’t have the strength. He stumbled and fell to his knees. Marc dropped down in front of him and looked around.
The elves and guardians fought to keep the demons from getting too close to him and Trystan, but they were slowly being overtaken. Fatigue had set in. It was only a matter of time before the demons seized a victory and took the lives of all those remaining.
Marc’s gaze met Trystan’s. He couldn’t do this without him. He needed Trystan’s strength to return and quickly. But how?
Emrys’ words came back to him. The prophecy. Love was the key. The bond that could strengthen a guardian’s power. Trystan’s power.
Marc cupped his face with his hands and kissed him.
Trystan instantly felt the warmth from his kiss spread throughout his body, seeping into his bones. Marc’s kiss deepened. Giving him life. Strength. Everything he needed. A rush of energy flowed through Trystan’s veins, permeating his skin.
Marc eased back. A faint glow, similar to one he’d seen before, encircled Trystan’s irises.
Renewed, Trystan stood. “It’s time to end this.”
Marc stood and lifted Excalibur from the ground where he’d dropped it and held it out in front of them both with the blade pointed down. Together, they stood over the keystone.
“Take it,” Marc said.
“No.” Trystan placed his hands on the hilt above Marc’s. “Together.”
With both hands, they held the sword over the stone and plunged it in.
There was no resistance at all. The sword entered the stone smoothly as if striking through water. And when the sword blade was almost entirely within the rock, a blast of pale green light surged outward in all directions.
The magical explosion knocked Marc and Trystan back a little, and the ground beneath them rumbled and began to transform.
