Home for Horny Monsters - Book 8
Copyright© 2024 by Annabelle Hawthorne
Chapter 16: The Sword in the Stone
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 16: The Sword in the Stone - When the health of a beloved member of the house is threatened, Mike Radley must make difficult choices and embark on a journey that may change him for the worse. Also, there will be butt stuff.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale Horror Humor Paranormal Ghost Magic Vampires Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Cream Pie Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Size Violence
It took Mike far longer than expected to return to his own tower. He stumbled a bit and got lost more than once, but couldn’t tell if it was due to lack of blood or something his magic had done to him. Charlotte offered to go with him, but he needed some space away from her to figure out exactly what had happened.
Disoriented, he had gotten lost. In the back of his mind, he could feel Charlotte’s presence, similar yet more intense than the connection he had with Kisa. Right now, Charlotte was walking around her tower barefoot, humming quietly to herself. Mike could actually feel the cold stone beneath her toes and hear the singing in his ears.
Struggling with this additional source of sensory input, Mike hid himself behind a stone pillar and clutched at his head, trying to shake it off. This was exactly how Cerberus found him.
He didn’t know how the hellhound sensed he was in trouble, and he wasn’t about to ask. They led him back to the tower where he promptly fell onto the couch and buried his face under the pillows. Both Sofia and Cecilia tried to ask him what had happened with Charlotte, but he just promised them he would explain as soon as he could and then promptly fell asleep.
His Dreamscape was a mess. The island looked as if a hurricane had hit it, and though the landscape itself was amorphous by nature, there were certain landmarks that heavily featured in his mind which had been moved around, almost as if someone had picked them up and dropped—
“Yeah, okay. I see what happened,” he muttered to himself. The darkness that dwelt in Charlotte’s soul and made her a vampyr had ripped pieces of his soul away. If he hadn’t reclaimed them, this would likely be a barren landscape now. He would be little better than the thralls that roamed the castle.
Still, the damage had been done. In his haste to restore some semblance of order, there hadn’t been time to focus on putting the pieces back to where they once were. Mike got a running start down the beach and leapt into the air, then spiraled upward to get an aerial view of the island. It had lost most of its color and been cast in shades of gray.
The worst damage had been done in the center, the house itself laying in ruins. He concentrated, his magic hissing in the air like static electricity as he rebuilt that part of his soul. When the house had been repaired, the vibrant colors of the siding and nearby bushes practically glowed in comparison to the dulled features of the island.
“Nice work, Romeo.” Lily hovered nearby, her wings flapping. “I was buried underneath some of that.”
“That surprises me.” Mike frowned at the rest of the mess. “Why couldn’t you just tunnel your way free or something? If anyone here could do it—”
“It would be me, because I’m fucking amazing.” Lily winked. “But we’re a mess down there. That weird fuzzy feeling in your head? It’s a hundred times worse for those of us who were squished up, twisted, and tossed about. I wasn’t even sure who I was while buried under that rubble.”
“Damn it.” Mike glared down at the landscape. “Can you help me with this?”
“Naturally. It’ll be way faster with two of us.” Lily moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nestling her head against the back of his neck.
“That doesn’t feel like helping,” he muttered.
“This whole place is a giant metaphor and doesn’t have to follow logic,” she replied. “Now get to work.”
The next section were the gardens. The resistance and pressure he had felt from repairing the house had lessened, and the hissing sound in the air wasn’t nearly as loud. One segment at a time, he restored the island. Mike’s mind felt lighter with every piece that clicked into place.
“Never thought I’d be doing soul surgery on myself,” he said as the island neared completion.
“You did essentially take a chainsaw to it earlier,” said Lily.
“What was it like in here?”
“A big black waterspout on the horizon,” the succubus replied. “It came across the water and just ripped things into the air, but then it all came falling back down later.”
“Is...” Mike felt a sick feeling in his gut and he swallowed hard. “Is everybody still here?”
“Currently, yes. Some of us got pulled away, but you managed to bring us all back.” Lily rubbed his chest through his shirt. “Our souls are safe, thanks to you.”
He let out a massive sigh and the two of them descended to the island. Tink, Kisa, and Ratu were waiting on the beach in bathing suits, the goblin and cat girl playing in the surf.
“Nice work,” said Ratu, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward a nearby cliff. “New girl is that way.”
“Charlotte is here?” That was a bit of a surprise. He had only tried to retrieve his own soul from the woman.
“Yeah, about that.” Lily made a face, able to read his thoughts in this place. “This one wasn’t a trade, lover boy. She handed that piece over to you for free.”
“What?” Mike spun to face the succubus, who was now in a two-piece bikini. “That’s a thing?”
“It is,” she replied.
“A gift, freely given,” Ratu added. “In Avalon, of all places. The symbolism shouldn’t escape you.”
Mike nodded and walked toward the cliff. He could have flown, but he needed a bit more time to think about how Charlotte had arrived along with Avalon itself. It wasn’t just that she had somehow handed over a good chunk of her soul, but the realization that his magic was also Fae in nature. He had been using it in a place of power and things had already changed.
The visions he now experienced were a perfect example. He had seen his own demise. Cecilia’s hair had more red in it than ever, the mark of a mortal soul growing like a seed. The recent surge of his olfactory senses, which absolutely made him think of Cerberus.
He, Ratu, and Yuki had long surmised that the soul exchange was typically a one-time process that may have long term ramifications. As each piece of their soul grew inside his own, so too would his in theirs. However, either the process of soul growth had been accelerated during his time in Avalon or he had somehow performed a swap again, specifically with Cecilia and Sofia.
His mind went back to the bathtub, specifically to Cecilia. Cerberus had also been in the room when his magic went haywire, causing anyone within a certain radius to spontaneously orgasm.
Something about Avalon had already changed him. It may have been that Charlotte didn’t do anything special other than offer herself freely, a woman who seemed desperate for any other future than the one that Vincentius had written for her.
When he got to the top of the cliff, he found Charlotte sitting on the edge with Naia. The nymph turned and smiled at Mike, then rose and helped Charlotte to her feet.
“She’s very sweet,” said Naia. “I think she’ll fit in just fine.”
He couldn’t help but stare at Charlotte. Here, in his Dreamscape, she almost looked like a different woman. Gone was the general malaise of undeath, the young woman’s mouth quirked up into a smile. She wore modest clothing, the sort a proper young woman from the late 1800s would wear. Charlotte did a little curtsy for him, then gestured at the ocean behind her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I only wish that the rest of me could see it.”
“Well, once we get out of Avalon, I know a place I could take her,” he said.
“Good.” Charlotte moved close to him and took his hand in her own. “She deserves happiness, you know.”
“You speak like she’s a separate person.”
Charlotte nodded. “In a lot of ways, she is. The others here, they’re like a snapshot of the people you know in the real world, updating every time you interact with them on an intimate level. If they were sick in the real world, that wouldn’t translate here. What you see is pure, and untarnished.”
“I don’t know about pure,” Naia muttered, staring down the beach where Lily was currently getting trashed on margaritas with Tink.
“You seem to know a lot for someone who has only been here a little bit,” Mike said.
“Time works differently here,” she replied. “Naia has explained many things to me, but nobody here will tell me what a blumpkin is.”
“That was Tink,” Naia muttered. “Trying to corrupt the young and innocent.”
“She’s not that young,” Mike said. “Even with some basic math, she’s—”
“My body is much older than you think, Caretaker.” Charlotte stepped close to him, the scent of asphodel blossoms washing over him. “Vincentius has altered the flow of time on the island many times in the hopes of creating a stronghold to protect him. There were times of famine where some of us would leave the mirror world and wait a day in the real world while years passed in Avalon. Then they would return and feast anew. It was only after the incident with your predecessor that he locked the door and left time as it was.”
“So you got to leave the island?”
“Not me.” Charlotte smiled sadly. “I always stayed behind for the children.” The young woman looked down at the beach, where Ratu had summoned an earthen barrier to separate herself from the others. Yuki, Abella, and Amymone had arrived as well, summoning small hammocks to lounge in. “It will be strange not being in charge of anyone here. I can’t remember the last time I had nothing to do but relax.”
“It’s not always fun and games.” Naia winked at Mike. “There is still one person we have to keep out of trouble.”
“Then I shall do my part.” Charlotte took Mike’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. Charlotte blushed and excused herself, walking slowly down the cliff and leaving Mike behind with Naia.
“She seems nice,” he said.
“She is,” Naia replied. “She is also very naive, and young. In spirit, anyway.”
“How so?”
“She was barely nineteen when she was turned,” Naia replied. “That part of her is locked in time and is unlikely to change in here. It is something that would serve you well to remember back in the real world, as well.”
“That I’m apparently the master of a nineteen-year-old vampyr?” Mike didn’t know what to think of that.
“It goes deeper than that and you know it.” Naia pressed herself against him, leaning her head against his chest. “She may be tough on the outside, but her heart is a fragile, delicate thing. It would serve you well to remember that.”
“I promise,” he said. After all, if Naia was making special mention of it, then it was absolutely important to know. “Are you all okay in here, now?”
“We are.” She stepped away and stared into his eyes. “But even better, you’re okay out there.”
Lifting her hand from his chest, she booped him on the nose, and he was suddenly awake, his eyes on the ceiling. The view was soon replaced by Cecilia’s concerned face.
“He’s awake,” she cried, then threw her arms around him and held him tight. Sofia came next, and Mike managed to gently push aside the banshee so that he could sit up. When he looked at the cyclops, she was scowling.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You fucked her.”
Mike didn’t even feign indignation at the accusation. “To be fair, I was just going there to let her drink my blood.”
“But you fucked her.”
“Yeah. Now we’ve got some sort of weird vampyr-master relationship and I don’t know how I’m going to find the proper Hallmark card for our first anniversary.” He rubbed at his face. “Turns out it messed up my soul, too, but I just fixed the damage. How long was I out?”
“A couple of hours,” Sofia replied. “We’re supposed to get ready for the party, too.”
He nodded. “Then we’re short on time. Just so you know, Vincentius thinks I’m a thrall right now and is planning to slaughter everyone.”
Sofia raised her eyebrow. “I doubt Hallmark has a card for that situation either. But it’s pretty much what we expected.”
“Yeah.” Mike rubbed his temples and slid off the bed. “Guess we’re going to be cutting things close. Is Taylor here already?”
“Not yet, but Cerberus smells him in the castle.” Sofia crossed her arms. “If you’re feeling pressed for time, you can give up on your idea regarding Excalibur. I think it’s a waste of energy.”
Mike’s eyes dropped to Sofia’s waist and he grinned. “I have it on good authority that pulling the sword from the stone is a double-win for me.”
“Pig.” Sofia chuckled. “You have no reason to believe you can claim it, so why bother?”
Mike smirked. “I mean, if you really want, we could go double-or-nothing on your bet.”
“It’s not even technically a bet,” said Sofia. “I don’t get anything if you fail. And it’s not like I have another ass to put on the line. You haven’t met that kind of woman.”
“Yet,” Mike joked. “I haven’t met that kind of woman, yet.”
Sofia snorted. “I have no idea how you can act so silly when everything has gone to shit.”
“It’s a form of self-medication at this point,” said Mike. “Angst, anxiety, and dread aren’t gonna do me any good later. At least, for now, my emotional self-denial allows me to be functional.”
Cecilia wrapped her arms around him from behind. “A ghrá mo chroí, I believe in you.”
“Thanks.” He smiled weakly. “That makes one of us.”
“Then one shall be enough.” Cecilia kissed his cheek just as a heavy door creaked down below in the main room of the tower.
“The tailor’s here,” yelled Sulyvahn. “And he brought Taylor with ‘im!”
“If we get out of this alive and transplant all these people, I’m giving them a book of baby names.” Mike stood up and stretched, then grabbed his stomach and winced. “Ow, damn. My abs hurt.”
Cecilia giggled and Sofia snorted.
“That’s what happens when you get into a tickle fight with a vampyr,” said Sofia as she moved toward the door. “C’mon, Cecilia. Let’s see what our dresses look like.”
The banshee clapped her hands and levitated out of the room, turning into a spirit and passing through the wall instead of the door. Mike stretched a few times, rubbed his sore belly, then walked out to see Taylor and his apprentice handing out garments. The man looked up at Mike and waved, then patted the large trunk he’d brought with him.
“It’s all ready, Lord Radley.”
“Call me Mike,” he replied, walking down the stairs. “It’s short for Michael, by the way. Or Mikey. Mickey. Michelangelo. Feel free to add these names to memory.”
“I’ll just call you m’lord,” said Taylor. “That way, I’m not stepping on any toes in regards to courtesy.”
Mike sighed and waited for Taylor to hand him his suit. There was a privacy screen nearby, which he used because he wasn’t wearing underwear. That, and also Taylor wouldn’t learn about the nagahide undershirt. Besides, showing your dick to strangers was considered rude, especially if they weren’t going to be on a first name basis, well...
He felt Charlotte snicker in the back of his mind and paused. She was clearly still plugged into his thoughts.
Are you there? he asked.
I am, m’lord. Charlotte giggled, and now he wondered if this was the one in his head or the real-world version. Wait, what do you mean by the one in your head? she asked.
Mike frowned. He could give her the boot, but wanted to see if she could behave on her own. It’s rude to just be in here reading my thoughts.
There was a moment of silence, and then she vanished. Mike let out a sigh and slipped into his clothes.
“Is everything okay, m’lord?” asked Taylor, clearly having heard Mike’s reaction to Charlotte.
“Yeah.” Mike was actually surprised at how comfortable the clothes were. The black slacks hugged his legs. The waistband was higher than he was used to and covered his lower stomach. A silken white shirt was next, but it was mostly hidden beneath the black and crimson tailcoat. He spent a few minutes checking the fit, then stepped out from behind the privacy screen to use the small mirror that was in the room.
“You look great.” Taylor came over and seemed to be wiping imaginary threads or dust from the shoulders of the jacket. “The eye of every woman will be on you tonight!”
Mike frowned at that statement, but still studied his reflection. He was just the right cross between badass and regal, and wondered how he would look with a sword slung across his hips.
Chuckling, he held up one hand and summoned a ball of lightning above his palm. Taylor stepped back as Mike admired himself in the mirror.
“Awesome,” he muttered. He looked like the hero out of a magical steampunk game. Well, minus the cool techno baubles. Maybe if he found some gears and stuck them to his lapels...
“Ye do cut a dashing figure,” said Sulyvahn from nearby. The dullahan was in a similar version of the outfit, but had a vest instead of a tailcoat. He was also wearing a top hat. “We be a pair of blokes ready fer a night on th’ town.”
“A couple of rogues,” Mike replied. “Women want us. Men want to be us.”
“Aye!’ Sulyvahn laughed, then turned to Taylor. “Ye did a lovely job.”
Taylor beamed, then spent a minute adjusting the fit of Mike’s sleeves. The tailor stood back and studied Mike with pride in his eyes, then clapped his hands together.
“You all are wearing my best work,” he declared. “I rarely get a chance to stretch my skills as I have in the last day.”
“You don’t make fashionable clothes that often?”
Taylor shrugged. “Usually, I just resize old clothing. Many outfits are just hand-me-downs anyway, and most people only have a single dress or suit for celebratory occasions.”
“That seems kind of sad, actually.” Mike frowned. “What sort of special occasions do you celebrate?”
“Weddings. Most births. Oh, and our Ascension day.”
“Ascension day?”
“When we meet with the Caretaker and ascend to Heaven,” Taylor said with excitement. “I’ve heard stories that Heaven has a bright blue sky that extends forever in every direction! The Caretaker told us all about how there are angels waiting to serve us for all eternity, and we’ll get to see our friends and family. The Caretaker’s father lives there!”
“Wait, hold on.” Mike put up a hand. “Who is the Caretaker’s father?”
“God,” Taylor said without hesitation. “The Caretaker cares for us here in the mortal realm. But his father cares for us in the afterlife!” Taylor puffed up and did a remarkable imitation of Vincentius. “My Father’s house has many rooms. If that were not so, I would not have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you.”
“Ah, okay.” Mike wondered what else Vincentius had decided to pick and choose from the Bible. Hell, the guy may have been around before all of it was written. Maybe he wasn’t familiar with the newer stuff. “If the Caretaker is the son of God, then is Jesus his brother?”
“Who is Jesus?” asked Taylor.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mike said. “My mistake.”
Taylor, in fact, looked like he wanted to ask more, but a door opened above and Taylor’s apprentice came out. “They’re ready!”
The first out the door was Cerberus. The hellhound stood in a gothic dress with wide sleeves and a lacy neckline that barely contained their bust. The middle head stuck out her tongue at Mike while the other two smirked, and they stepped aside to allow the others to follow.
Cecilia was next. Her regal black A-line dress was tailored to fit above the one that was part of her body, but had been stitched with see-through panels that created the illusion of black fabric being part of the white that lay beneath. The banshee hovered in front of the door and did a twirl, revealing that she was still wearing simple flats on her feet.
“Do you like?” she asked. “I feel like a princess.”
“You look like a princess.” Mike smiled at her while Suly whistled.
Last was Sofia. The cyclops stepped through the doorway in a skintight black dress with intricate lace along the decolletage with slits on both sides that stopped at her hip bone. A corset pressed her breasts upward and somehow amplified her massive bosom, making her look even taller than usual.
“You’re staring,” she said with a grin.
“Yes, I am,” Mike admitted. “You look—”
“Breathtaking,” Cecilia interrupted. “Your soul is shining.”
Smirking at the compliment, Sofia walked toward the stairs. “Taylor was worried the fabric may rip, so he stitched in some stretch panels,” she said.
“How do they feel?” asked Taylor.
Sofia made it to the bottom of the stairs and raised her head to turn around, sticking her ass in Mike’s direction. She looked at Mike while answering Taylor.
“Like a second skin,” she said, running a hand along her ass.
“Hmm.” Taylor moved forward to inspect her and shook his head. “I didn’t think the slits would go this high, I must have mismeasured.”
“I like them this way,” said Sofia, who exchanged a glance with Cecilia. When the two saw Mike watching them, they turned away in the worst display of ‘nothing to see here’ that he had ever seen. After a moment, Sofia moved next to Mike and stuck out her hip in his direction. “You should feel the fabric,” she said. “I have no idea what it even is.”
“A special blend,” Taylor replied. “Material gifted to us by the Caretaker. If the material splits, we can sew it back together with thread and it will mend after a day or so.”
“Magical cloth?” Sofia asked. “Does everyone have this?”
“Only the vassals,” Taylor said. “Sometimes the Caretaker gifts it to villagers with the expectation it be returned on their death or Ascension.”
“Right.” The cyclops shrugged. “I have no idea what it could be.”
“We could always ask Nyx,” Mike said. “If she’d ever, you know, come here and talk with us. Has anybody seen her?”
“The Lady Nyx has been in town all morning collecting rocks and ... cackling to herself.” Taylor frowned and started packing up his wardrobe. “It was quite unsettling to watch.”
“I wish I could explain her behavior,” said Mike. “But I firmly believe that’s beyond the means of a mere mortal like myself.”
Why was Nyx collecting rocks? Was she suddenly really into geology? Or maybe it was related to the Fae who were supposed to be here? If this was the precursor to something ominous, then he absolutely failed to see what the problem could be. It probably had to do with remembering things, but what could be so important that she ditched the group?
Taylor and his helpers left in a hurry so that they could go home and change before the big event. Mike spent some extra time complimenting the women on their outfits, Cecilia in particular. She kept holding the hem of her dressing and twirling back and forth, the fabric rising up as she spun.
When the time came to leave, the group exited the tower and headed into the main body of the castle. In its daunting hallways, they split up, the men headed for Camelot’s throne room while the women went to the party.
Mike and Sulyvahn moved quietly as the Caretaker used his soul sight to spot any potential thralls that were watching. The hallways were thick with spectral black lines, similar to the one that used to lurk around Charlotte. It made him think that the castle was like a body with Vincentius at its center like a malevolent heart, pumping darkness through its hallways.
When they got to the throne room, the door was unlocked. They cracked it open and slipped inside. After a quick check revealed that they were alone, Mike let out the breath he had been holding and rubbed his hands together.
“Stage one, complete,” he muttered, looking up at the window above the vacant thrones. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture the people who used to roam these halls.
“Ye daydreamin’?” asked Sulyvahn.
Mike nodded. “A bit, yeah. It’s so weird to know that Arthur himself once sat up there where he could see his subjects.”
“More like look down on ‘em,” Sulyvahn replied.
“You really think he did?” Mike asked.
The dullahan shrugged. “I have no way o’ knowin’. My lot aren’t so keen on the idea of royalty these days.”
“Trouble at home?” Mike asked.
Sulyvahn snorted. “There always be trouble in the Courts. It’s like a storm of piss, that place. Can’t stand anywhere without gettin’ hit by somethin’ that stinks.”
“The Court doesn’t seem very keen on being ruled.”
The dullahan shrugged as he walked toward the massive stone in the middle of the room. “Ye have to realize it be different fer us. The man who sat up there, he was lookin’ down on a kingdom o’ people who used to be strangers. Becoming king meant that he took responsibility for ‘em.”
“Or was supposed to, anyway.”
Sulyvahn nodded. “Aye. Ye get a good king up there, he’ll do right by the people. A bad one will only take.”
“This is exactly why strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.”
“The Lady of the Lake was just tryin’ to do right by humans,” Sulyvahn countered. “We were hopin’ that we could strike an accord, restore balance to a world that had forced magic out. It failed.”
“Clearly.” Mike made it around the rock and studied the hilt of the blade embedded there. It was remarkably simple in appearance, which surprised him a bit. Surely the Fae could have embellished it had they wanted to.
Or maybe its simplicity was meant to be symbolic that the sword would be used to protect the innocent and drive evil from the land. After all, nobody would have time to appreciate the filigree on the hilt except in times of peace.
“Did ye know it was our king who started all this?” asked Suly, his eyes on Arthur’s throne. “The man truly believed humans could turn it around.”
“There’s no saying that they can’t,” Mike replied, noticing the dullahan’s gaze. “What was he like?”
Suly shrugged. “I didn’a see him a lot. He and the Queen were like my sister and I. Alike in the ways that mattered, and different in the ways that mattered even more. She sings for those who go willingly, I hunt down those who don’t. He was the one who thought humans would become the way forward. In the end, his obsession o’er them was worth more to him than the Fae he had helped to create.”
“I think ... maybe he was a man who thought he was helping his family, but got caught up in it.” Mike watched Suly’s soul to see what the man might be feeling. There was a bit of anger and frustration at the mention of the king, all bundled up beneath those thin, golden chains.
“I suppose it don’t matter either way,” Suly finally said. “The man is gone to us now. Ye should get a good tug on that blade, we’re short for time as it is.”
“Okay. So do you think there’s anything special I need to do to pull this thing out?” Mike asked. The hilt of the blade was at a slight angle and made him think of a golf club ready to be pulled from its bag.
Sulyvahn laughed. “I don’t reckon ye’d be able to pull it no matter what ye did,” he replied.
“Then why did you come?”
“To describe the look on yer face to Cecilia when ye can’t do it.” The dullahan sat down on the steps beneath the throne. “She believes you can do it, and I suppose Cerberus does, too. But they’d be the only ones.”
Mike scowled at Suly. “Lack of faith?”
“Lack of logic. It would take an act o’ the Queen herself to let you draw the blade from ... from...” The dullahan’s face went slack as Mike promptly freed Excalibur and waved it around in the air in front of him.
“Get a good look at my face.” Mike grinned playfully. “So you can describe it to Cecilia later.” He had actually been a bit disappointed while yanking the sword out of the stone. When he had touched the hilt, he expected some sort of magical intelligence to appraise him, or maybe a voice in his head declaring his worth. If he didn’t know any better, this was just a regular sword that someone had jammed in a rock.
“Unbelievable,” Suly whispered.
“Unexpected.” Mike held Excalibur up in the air, then attempted a fancy flourish. “We’ve come to expect it.” He performed a few strikes with an imaginary foe.
“What are those buzzing sounds yer makin’?” asked Suly.
“Lightsaber sounds.” Mike chuckled. “Are you ready to be a good little astromech for me?”
The dullahan sighed and held out his hand. “If ye don’t mind, I’ll stick it in. Wouldn’t want you to nick my spine.”
“The whip?” Mike asked. “Or do you have a real spine in there, too?”
“Even I don’t know what all is in there,” Sulyvahn replied. “And I’ve taken my head off and looked.”
Once Excalibur was in Sulyvahn’s hand, he used the other to rip his head off, black smoke leaking onto the ground. Suly tossed his head to Mike, then used both hands to carefully guide the blade into his neckhole.
“It just occurred to me,” Mike said with a frown. “There’s not a bottomless hole in there, right?”
“Nah. I feel the tip o’ the blade ticklin’ the inside o’ my leg.” The dullahan’s body stood up straight, the pommel of Excalibur now visible just above his neckline. “It won’t go any further.”
“Here.” Mike handed Suly his head back. The dullahan put it back on and adjusted it a few times, then frowned.
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