“Are you really going after a knight and soldiers?” Guinevere asked. Outside, the sky was darkly overcast and rain came down in a steady pour. We were walking across the wooden docks that reached into the lake behind the tavern. There were a half-dozen boats tied up, some large and flat and a few tall ones with enormous masts. They were all covered by thick tarps that kept out the water.

“They’ve got our friend,” Arthur said over the sound of rain beating the lake. Just a few minutes outside and we all were soaked. Guinevere seemed completely at home in it.

“But you can’t fight soldiers—you’re a boy and a dog,” Guinevere said, leading us to the back of the dock. There was a small boat hidden in the others’ shadows. It was narrow and low to the water, with a single mast about as tall as two men. Guinevere untied the knots that held its protective tarp in place. “Is he going to use his magic powers?” Guinevere said, shaking her head at me. She undid the last knot and pulled at the tarp until the deck was open to the rain. “Crazy people have died traveling to Avalon before, and that’s their right. But I don’t like to see them take an innocent with them.”

I whined and put my forepaws on the side of the boat next to Guinevere. I locked eyes with her and gave a mournful bark. I wished I had my voice.

“He is a smart one. It’s almost like…”

“He understood you, yes,” Arthur said, helping her with the last corner of the tarp. “He’s not an ordinary dog.”

Guinevere looked at me a minute more and nodded. “You ever sail a boat before?” she asked, and Arthur shrugged. Guinevere looked up at the rain. “Well, it’s a fine day to test your luck,” she said, hopping over the side of the boat. “I’ll give you the short version.”

I jumped on too and tried to follow what Guinevere said about the ropes and pulleys that worked the sail. But mostly I focused on not throwing up. Even docked, the boat never stopped rocking. For the first time in my life, I wished I’d eaten less.

“With rain like this, you’re going to need to bail out the boat with your pail every half hour. And if the Lady gets angry and sends us any more—well, then you’ll never stop bailing.”

“The Lady?”

“The Lady of the Lake,” Guinevere answered. “The Lady of Avalon. Nivian, the water walker.”

“Heh,” Arthur laughed uncomfortably. “You’ve seen this ‘water walker’? You talk like you know her.”

Guinevere considered Arthur seriously. “You don’t need to see a person in the flesh to know them. You see what they do. Nothing happens on this lake that Nivian doesn’t want to happen. And by the looks of the sky, she doesn’t want anyone coming to her island today.”

“Well, if we see her, I’ll tell her sorry for intruding,” Arthur said, picking up a wooden pole.

Something about this Nivian sounded familiar to me, but I didn’t remember why.

“Oh, by the Lady!” Guinevere cursed and pointed down at Arthur’s feet. “You’re not going to Avalon like that, are you?”

Arthur looked down. “What, barefoot?” Arthur said, wiggling his toes.

“You can’t go to Avalon without shoes.”

“I haven’t needed them yet.”

“No.” Guinevere made an irritated face. “In Avalon, there’s snow on the ground all year. You won’t last a minute like that.”

“But it’s summertime,” Arthur said. I perked my ears at Guinevere. Was she teasing us?

“It’s Avalon,” she said simply. “And you need a pair of shoes.” She dropped down on the deck of the boat, which was already filling with water, and yanked at the heels of her boots. “Come on!” she shouted as she struggled with them. “The cursed rain’s shrunk them!”

“I’m not going to fit in those; they’re girls’ shoes!”

“You’ll fit,” Guinevere said, nodding her head vigorously. Finally she popped off the right one and tossed it at Arthur.

Arthur picked the boot out of the rainy bottom of the boat and sat on the side bench. “There’s no way these are going to f—”

The boot slipped onto Arthur’s foot, snug as a glove. I wagged my tail as Guinevere tossed him the other one.

“Remember what I said about the wind,” she said, stepping out of the boat. “If it gets too strong, drop the sea anchor.” She held up a cone-shaped piece of heavy cloth that was attached to the back of the boat with a rope. “It’ll slow you down and keep you crosswise with the waves.” She threw it in a box by the mast and unhooked the chain mooring the boat to the dock. I felt the deck shift beneath my feet and struggled to keep my balance. “Don’t raise the sails until you’ve got a good wind!” she said, kicking the boat away with her bare foot.

We drifted into the lake.

Arthur dropped a long pole in the water and pushed us farther out. Rain had already filled the bottom of the boat to my toenails.

“And don’t forget to keep bailing!” Guinevere called from the dock, the rain making her voice harder and harder to hear. “Five inches on the bottom is your limit!”

“I won’t forget!”

“I hope you don’t die!” Guinevere shouted, and her voice was just barely audible. “You better bring back my boots!”

“Thank you, we won’t! Not going to die, that is! I’ll bring back the boots!” Arthur swallowed and looked at me. “Hopefully, we’ll live.”

I stood on the back of the boat and barked goodbye.

—

It was miserably wet. The deck of the boat filled with water, and every few minutes Arthur had to take a break from rowing to bail with a little bucket. My paw pads and hindquarters itched from sitting in the wet, and I jumped on a bench that was built into the side. But the higher I was on the boat, the more the rocking made me sick.

Arthur had the worst of it. His hair dripped water into his eyes, and he had to row the boat. I wished I could do something to help.

The sun set behind the storm clouds, and the wind picked up. Arthur threw the paddle on the deck and sat on the wet floor.

“Wind seems good enough,” he said. “Let’s try the sail.”

He picked at knots and unfolded cloth with wet, slippery hands. He mumbled to himself as he worked, trying to remember what Guinevere had told him. He pulled hard against a scratchy rope and raised the sail to the top of the mast.

Instantly the sail filled up, big and wide. The boat lurched and cut through the rippling water. I jumped on the back bench and watched our wake cut through tiny waves.

“We’re moving!” Arthur shouted, throwing his hands to the rain. My tail wagged and cast off drops of water.

“Take us to Avalon!”