“Why isn’t it working?” Lila demanded.

Emrys cast again. “I don’t know. I -” Then something happened. The silver haze in his eyes turned black, and he snatched his hand back. “Clarent,” he said.

Lila knew the name from the legends.

Arthur shook his head. “Percival cast it into the lake for me.”

“And Morgause retrieved it for her son,” Lila said.

Arthur tried to climb to his feet, winced. “Perhaps I have become weak, relying on Emrys’s strength for so long. Fetch me Excalibur. I can still despatch with that spawn of Lot.”

“You know he’s not really Lot’s,” Emrys said quietly. “That this is your punishment for -”

Arthur pressed his lips into a thin line. “Help me onto my horse and give me my sword.”

Emrys looked at Lila; she cast about helplessly. Then she said, “My Liege, bring this with you as well.” She held out the massive spear she’d been carrying.

“I’m not really your king, am I?” Arthur asked, but he took the spear anyway, tested its weight. “’Tis fit for a king. Does it have a name?”

“Rhon.”