from Feithgold’s nose and he collapsed to the ground, limp.
Thor stood there, mouth open in shock. He could not believe it. Neither could the crowd, which booed and hissed.
Erec swung around with his sword, just missing the knight, and the two faced each other again.
Thor suddenly realized: he was Erec’s only squire now. He gulped. What was he supposed to be doing? He was not prepared for this. And the whole kingdom was watching.
The two knights attacked each other viciously, going blow for blow. Clearly the McCloud knight was much stronger than Erec—yet Erec was the better fighter, faster and more agile. They swung and slashed and parried, neither able to gain advantage.
Finally, King MacGil stood.
“Long spears!” he called out.
Thor’s heart pounded. He knew this meant him: he was on duty.
He spun and looked at the rack, taking down the weapon that seemed most appropriate. As he grabbed its leather shaft, he prayed he chose correctly.
He burst onto the lane and could feel thousands of eyes on him. He ran and ran, for all he was worth, wanting to reach Erec, and finally placing it into his hand. He was proud to see he reached him first.
Erec took the spear and spun, prepared to face the other knight. Being the honorable warrior that he was, Erec waited until the other knight was armed before attacking. Thor hurried off to the side, out of the men’s way, not wanting to repeat Feithgold’s mistake. As he did, he dragged Feithgold’s limp body out of harm’s way.
As Thor watched, he sensed something was wrong. Erec’s opponent took his spear, raised it straight up, then began bringing it down in a strange motion. As he did, suddenly, Thor felt his world go into focus in a way he never had. He intuited that something was wrong. His eyes locked on the knight’s spearhead, and as he looked closely, he noticed it was loose. The knight was about to use the tip of his spear as a throwing knife.
As the knight brought down his spear, the head detached and sailed through the air, end over end, heading right for Erec’s heart. In seconds, Erec would be dead—there was no way he could react in time. From the looks of its jagged blade, it appeared to be armor-piercing.
In that moment, Thor felt his whole body warming. He felt a tingling sensation—it was the same sensation he’d experienced back in Darkwood, when battling the Sybold. His whole world slowed. He was able to see the tip spinning in slow motion, was able to feel an energy, a heat, rising within him—one he didn’t know he had.
He stepped forward and felt bigger than the spearhead. In his mind, he willed it to stop. He demanded it to stop. He did not want to see Erec hurt. Especially not this way.
“NO!”“ Thor shrieked.
He took another step, and held out his palm, aimed at the spearhead.
It stopped and hung there, in mid-air, right before reaching Erec’s heart.
It then dropped harmlessly to the ground.
The two knights both turned and looked at Thor—as did the two kings, as did the thousands of spectators. He felt the whole world staring down at him, and realized they all just witnessed what he did. They all knew he was not normal, that he had some sort of power, that he had influenced the games, had saved Erec—and changed the fate of the kingdom.
Thor stood there, rooted in place, wondering what just happened.
He was now certain he wasn’t the same as all these people. He was different.
But who was he?
CHAPTER NINE
Thor found himself swept up, ushered through the crowd by Reece, the King’s youngest son and his newfound sparring partner. Ever since the jousting match, it had been a blur. Whatever he had done back there, whatever power he had used to stop that spearhead from killing Erec, it had caught the attention of the entire kingdom. The match had been stopped after that, called off by both kings, and a truce called. Each knight retired to his side, the masses broke up in an agitated stir, and Thor had been taken by the arm and ushered off by Reece.
He’d been swept away in a royal entourage, cutting the back way through the masses, Reece tugging at his arm the whole way. Thor was still shaking from the day’s events. He hardly understood what he had just done back there, how it had influenced things. He had just wanted to be anonymous, just another one of the King’s legion. He had not wanted to be the center of attention.
Worse, he didn’t know where he was being led, if he was going to be punished somehow for interfering. Of course, he had saved Erec’s life—but he had also interfered with a Knight’s battle, which was forbidden for a squire. He wasn’t sure if he would be rewarded or rebuked.
“How did you do that?” Reece asked, as he yanked him along. Thor followed blindly, trying to process it all himself. As he went, the masses gawked, staring at him as if he were some kind of freak.
“I don’t know,” Thor answered truthfully. “I just wanted to help him and…it happened.”
Reece shook his head.
“You saved Erec’s life. Do you realize that? He is our most famed knight. And you saved him.”
Thor felt good as he turned Reece’s words over in his head, felt a wave of relief. He had liked Reece from the moment he’d met him; he had a calming effect, always knowing what to say. As he pondered it, he realized maybe he was not in for punishment after all. Maybe, in some ways, they would view him as a sort of hero.
“I didn’t try to do anything,” Thor said. “I just wanted him to live. It was just…natural. It was no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Reece echoed. “I couldn’t have done it. None of us could have.”
They turned the corner and Thor saw before them the King’s castle, sprawled out, reaching high into the sky. It looked monumental. The King’s army stood at attention, lining the cobblestone road leading over the drawbridge, keeping the masses at bay. They stepped aside to allowed Reece and Thor past.
The two of them walked along the road, soldiers on either side, up to the huge arched doors, covered in iron bolts. Four soldiers pulled it open and stepped aside, at attention. Thor could not believe the treatment he was receiving: he felt as if he were a member of the royal family.
They entered the castle, the doors closing behind them, and Thor was amazed at the sight before him: the inside was immense, with soaring stone walls a foot thick and vast, open rooms. Before him milled hundreds of members of the royal court, rambling about in an excited stir. He could sense the buzz and excitement in the air, and all eyes turned and looked at him as he entered. He was overwhelmed by the attention.
They all huddled close, seemed to gawk as Thor went with Reece down the castle corridors. He had never seen so many people dressed in such finery. He saw dozens of girls, of all ages, dressed in elaborate outfits, locking arms and whispering in each other’s ears and giggling at him as he went. He felt self-conscious. He couldn’t tell if they liked him, or if they were making fun of him. He was not used to being the center of attention—much less in a royal court—and hardly knew how to handle himself.
“Why
