The Seven Swords by Nils Johnson-Shelton Read Free Book Online Page B

dragonflies swarmed to it immediately.
    â€œKay, come with me!” Artie said, and together they made their way toward the haystack.
    But then it exploded. Half the dragonflies surrounding it were thrown off, while the other half darted up and around, jockeying for position as they tried to find a way to strike at Erik.
    Or was that Erik? It was hard to tell. In place of the boy was a violent blur. A violent blur that had found something at the bottom of the haystack. Something that looked like a hammer.
    â€œHe’s gone nuts!” Kay observed.
    Erik felled the dragonflies so quickly, in every direction, that they couldn’t even touch him, let alone pick him up again.
    Finally, after Erik had killed or maimed dozens of insects, they beat a retreat. Just as quickly as they’d arrived, the dragonflies regrouped and took to the sky.
    The knights stared at Erik. His eyes were red with fury; his head whipped in every direction, looking for something to strike. It was like he was a cartoon character bursting with rage; Artie fully expected steam to spout from his ears.
    Bedevere held out his sword and said, “Sir Erik, please, try to calm yourself.”
    Thumb mumbled, “A berserker . . .”
    Artie knew what that was from all the fantasy games he’d played and books he’d read: someone who went into a savage frenzy in battle.
    Erik began to calm. His movements became less erratic. His color returned.
    â€œSo, what, Erik’s like a real Viking or something?” Kay asked.
    â€œI—I guess,” Artie said incredulously.
    Why not? Really, with everything else that went on in their lives, why not?
    Tiberius returned to the ground and settled behind them. Erik stared at the dragon with wonder, finally taking it in. Erik’s arms and legs were limp and exhausted. His shoulders slumped. “Guys, what is going on around here?” he asked weakly.
    Thumb stepped forward and said, “My boy, it’s official. Welcome to the Otherworld.”

6 - IN WHICH A PLAN FORMS AND DRED HATES ON FAIRIES
    After watching Qwon and Shallot fight through the spy hole in his door, Dred gathered up Smash and went to report to Morgaine.
    He wound through the castle and came to his mum’s double doors. They were tall and curved at the top and had a fresh coat of bright-red paint. They had pewter knockers that were shaped like foxglove flowers. Dred stood still for a moment and then leaned forward, pressing an ear against one of the doors.
    â€œStop eavesdropping and come in!” Morgaine yelled, and the doors magically burst open.
    How Dred wished she would teach him to do things like that. Despite all his pleas, she hadn’t taught him even the simplest conjuration. He would never forgive her for that.
    Morgaine sat at her vanity wearing a light-green cloak. All kinds of bottles and vials were arranged in front of her. Dred knew that some contained makeup, others held elixirs, and a precious few were filled with very strong potions.
    She kept her back to him as she dabbed on some eye cream.
    â€œHow did it go? Qwon didn’t see your face, did she?”
    â€œIt went okay. And no, she didn’t see my face.”
    â€œGood. She mustn’t.”
    â€œI know , Mum. They can’t see my face. You’ve told me that a thousand times.”
    â€œRight. Now, tell me what happened.”
    Dred told his mother most, but not all, of the prisoners’ meeting. He made sure to mention that Shallot had used her fairy scentlock ability to stun Qwon, but he intentionally left out the part about giving Qwon a staff, saying instead that Qwon had managed to break Shallot’s staff in two and fought her off with one end.
    Morgaine sighed. “Pity neither was killed. How I wish I could find the will to kill them myself.” Dred said nothing as Morgaine wheeled around. Her cloak was clasped shut at the neck with a long pin shaped like a tree branch. A small fold