“I wish everyone would stop talking about those two wars as if they were my fault!”

“Well, they were.”

“Only indirectly!”

“Don’t shout, or I’ll give you a headache,” said Suzie. “Still, it has been a little quiet of late. I could use some exercise. It’s been a while since I killed a whole bunch of people.”

“I’m starting to get a really bad feeling about this,” I said.

Suzie looked at me thoughtfully. “How did the sword feel when you handled it?”

“Light,” I said. “Almost weightless. Good balance.”

“No, John. How did it feel ...”

I thought about it. “Like it could do anything. Like I could do anything. Like nothing in this world could stand against us as long as we fought in a noble cause.”

On an impulse, I picked up the scabbard and slung it over my shoulder. Leather straps appeared out of nowhere, and I pulled them into place, securing the scabbard on my back. My hands moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do. I could feel the weight of the sword, hanging all the way down my back, almost to my heels. I could sense the hilt standing up behind my left shoulder, waiting to be drawn. I could feel Excalibur’s presence, like a shield at my back that no weapon could ever pierce. Like another pair of eyes, watching out for me. I was so taken up with all these new feelings that it took me a moment to notice that Suzie was looking at me very strangely.

“What?” I said.

Suzie walked round me in a tight circle, examining me from all angles. “The moment you strapped that sword into place, it vanished. Gone. Invisible. Are you sure it’s still there?”

“Yes,” I said. “I can feel the weight of it, the pressure of its purpose. And it feels like it’s got my back.”

“You used to feel that way about me,” said Suzie.