“Duck,” I yelled, but Margot and Merlin had beat me to it. I joined them below the cover of the window ledge a split second before fire and heat rolled over our heads. Once it passed, I looked out the window to see the dragon’s belly as it pulled up in a vertical climb. I smelled burnt hair. My fiancé had a few shriveled strands, but the druid’s outer layers looked like chow mien. I doubted I had fared much better. “I have to get to a ballista.”
“I replaced the weapon atop my tower,” the wizard said. “Go there. I will distract her.”
I could only guess what the diversion would be. I ran with Margot keeping pace at my side. We burst out into the courtyard and dove back behind the shelter of the stone building.
“Baron Sam,” a weak but familiar voice said from behind me. I turned. Pale and tired, Arthur supported his weight on Bedivere, a bandage wrapped around his head. “I see you reclaimed Excalibur.”