“I still do!”

“Shouting again ...”

“I trust you with my life, Suzie. Which is more than I’ll say about Excalibur. I can’t help feeling that this sword has its own agenda.”

“Yes, well, that’s magic swords for you,” said Suzie. “And destiny, for that matter. I suppose it’s too late to mark it RETURN TO SENDER and throw the thing out?”

“Almost certainly,” I said. “It’s no good, Suzie; I’m going to need help with this one. Very specialised help and advice. And there’s only one place I can think of that’s a real authority on all things Arthurian. I’m going to have to leave the Nightside and go back out into London Proper. And talk with the London Knights.”

“You have got to be kidding. Those arrogant, stuck-up, conceited little prigs?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s the ones.”

“You are not going anywhere until we’ve talked this through very thoroughly. You don’t have to leave the Nightside, John. This place is lousy with all kinds of experts, on every subject under the sun, and a whole bunch of other things that can only thrive in permanent darkness. There are people here who know something about everything, everything about something, and ... there has to be somebody here! There has to be.”

“Not this time,” I said gently. “Excalibur is too ... pure for the Nightside. Pure in purpose and nature. It has to be the London Knights. After all: who has a better claim to Excalibur than the last defenders of Camelot?”

Suzie sniffed loudly. Her way of saying that while I might have convinced her, there was no way in hell she was going to admit it. And being Suzie, she immediately attacked from another direction.

“I thought you said you felt a responsibility to take over Walker’s position, here in the Nightside?”

“I do,” I said. “But that can wait. This ... is bigger. I’m hoping Excalibur has reappeared to prevent a Final Battle rather than start one. But I can’t know for sure, and I won’t know what to do for the best until I’ve talked with the London Knights.”