Free The Seven Swords by Nils Johnson-Shelton

IDEA
    Artie kept it to himself, but he knew that a white stag had lived in the forest around Camelot back in the old King Arthur days and that the knights of the Round Table saw it quite a bit. It was so beautiful that, being knights, all they wanted was to kill it, stuff it, and put it on display in the court, but no matter how often they tried no one ever managed to catch it. Like a unicorn or a selkie, the white stag was magical in its ability to evade capture. This was because the white deer was more than just an animal; it was a symbol of the Otherworld itself.
    Artie Kingfisher took this as a good sign. It was his turn to follow the white deer into the woods, his knights at his side. Unlike the knights of old, he didn’t want to capture it and mount its head in his game room; he just wanted to follow its magical—even mythical—footprints.
    Footprints that would lead them right to Gram.
    It took the knights an hour to cover the distance that the stag had gone in about twenty minutes. When they finally reached the river’s edge, Lance said, “Man, this river’s a lot bigger than I thought.”
    Which was true. They’d watched the stag swim across it successfully but with effort. In crossing, it had been carried downriver about five hundred feet.
    â€œNo way we can do what that deer did,” Erik said feebly.
    Bedevere rolled his armless shoulder and eyed the churning water. “I don’t think I could cross that with two arms.”
    They were silent for a moment. Artie leaned on his spear. The banks were littered with large rocks and much larger tree trunks. “Get out the rope, Kay. Let’s see what my spear can do.”
    â€œYou got it, Art,” Kay said.
    She swung the infinite backpack from her shoulders and dug out the rope. Artie tied some kind of crazy knot around the spear’s shaft and cinched it tight. He said, “Beddy, Lance—I want you guys to stay here. We’re going to set up a river crossing, and I don’t want anything messing it up. Plus, we should keep an eye on that crossover. If Morgaine’s power is so tied to them like Merlin said, she might send someone to check it out. If anyone bad-looking comes out of that thing, stop them.”
    â€œRoger that, dude,” Lance said as Bedevere nodded.
    Artie weighed his spear in his hand and eyed a tree trunk across the river. “Sis, take the free end of the rope and stand back there. When I launch the spear, let the rope uncoil, but don’t let it go.”
    â€œCheck,” Kay said.
    They gave Artie some room. He held the spear over his shoulder, turned sideways to the bank, and took a few jogs toward the target. When he had some momentum, he planted his left foot and let the spear fly with a grunt.
    It absolutely flew out of his hand, true and on target. It crossed the river, and with a loud thwack Rhongomyniad drove deep into the tree trunk.
    â€œWell done, sire!” Bedevere shouted.
    Artie waved him off and took the free end of the rope from his sister. “Sis, can you use Cleomede to cut a hole in that rock?” He pointed at a large spur on the ground.
    â€œSure,” Kay said eagerly.
    â€œWait—what?” Erik bleated.
    Instead of answering, Kay pushed Cleomede into the rock and gave it a full turn. Crushed sand and pebbles fell from the hole on either side.
    â€œWhoa,” was all Erik could manage.
    Kay shot Erik a smile and said, “Pretty neat, huh?”
    â€œIs my sword going to be able to do that?”
    Kay pulled Cleomede free and sheathed it. As Artie threaded the rope through the hole, he said, “Only one way to find out!”
    A look of wonder crossed Erik’s face as Artie pulled the rope taut and tied it off with another fancy knot. Artie tested it, grabbed it with both hands, then swung underneath and flung a leg over the line, holding it in the bend of his knee. He pulled himself along hand over hand and moved over