A Pendragon for Your Thoughts

"This is incredibly boring," I said, throwing my head up to face the ceiling as Jason stopped at a table lined with antique vases. "Why are we here again?"

"Lou's car could be worth something, Dez," my brother replied, eyeing the closest one--it was made out of clay, and had pieces of iridescent glass cemented into its neck. "You think this one would look nice in the shop window?"

"What does it matter?" I shoved my hands in my pockets. "People show off their things to get on TV. This stuff probably isn't even for sale."

"Stop being such a buzzkill." Jason pulled me away from the table. "It's not like you had anything else to do today, anyway."

"You don't know that."

He cut a glare over his shoulder at me, but made careful work not to bump head-on into anyone as we shouldered through the crowd. We made it back to our table, which was wedged in between an old lady showing off rusty old candelabras, and a man with a concerning amount of shiny silverware sets, only to find that it had its own little crowd. Jason's husband--Louis--stood proudly beside his cherry-red Chevrolet, waving a hand over its exterior.

"...yes, it's a 1966 Corvair Yenko," he was saying excitedly. When the crowd seemed to shift as one, I realized with fear that there was a camera crew circling Louis and his car.

I dove behind Jason.

"Desmond Carter, what are you-"

"I can't be seen here!" I hissed to him. "Antique roadshows are for smelly old grandpas and for sad, single people in their thirties! What if someone from school is watching this? This is the stupidest place for you to swi-"

Jason sighed. "You're so dramatic. I should've just left you home."

"That's what I was trying to make you do when you dragged me here anyway!" I whisper-shouted. "Wait, you have to hide too! People know you're my brother!"

"I'm not doing anything for you." Jason turned on his heel and slapped five bucks into my hand. "Go get yourself a hot dog or something. Calm down."

"I don't want a hot dog."

"Jeez Dez, then get yourself a Coke! I don't care!"

Grumbling, I turned away from him and pushed my way back through the crowd. I had no idea where the snack stand was, so I attempted to follow the smell of buttery pretzels towards what I was hoping was it.

"Jeez Dez, then get yourself a Coke! I don't care!" I mimicked Jason under my breath as I got in line. "Give me a break."

Too stuborn to even consider Jason's demand, I got myself a Dr. Pepper and was able to afford a basket of chicken fingers. I wrenched a couple napkins from the greasy-looking dispenser and stuck them underneath the basket. I made it about three steps before realizing I hadn't held on tight enough, and they fluttered helplessly to the ground.

"Dammit," I huffed. With a roll of my eyes, I set down my Dr. Pepper and bent down to pick up the napkins.

When I came back up, there was an old man standing in front of me. Wiry, white hair puffed up beneath his Irish cap, and beady eyes stared at me through bottlecap glasses. With the way he was scrutinizing me, you would think that I was some rare specimen no one had seen before.

"Where did you get that?" He pointed a finger so close to my chest that he was almost touching me. I caught a whiff of something unbearably strong and meaty--like a cheesestake; I habitually wrinkled my nose.

"I don't know what you're-"

"That."

I followed his gaze to my chest, realizing that my necklace had slipped out from within my shirt when I bent down to pick up the napkins. Around the thick piece of black thread was a shiny, golden coin, Old Welsh engraved around its edges.

Byddwch ddewr mewn eiliadau o dywyllwch, it said. Be brave in moments of darkness.

My hands went to the coin. "It's just a necklace. My dad gave it to me."

"Do you not recognize that family crest, son?" he asked, eyes going wide through his thick glasses. "That is the family crest of Arthur Pendragon himself!"

I began laughing immediately. "Right! And my dad found it in El Dorado." Then I shook my head. "I've had this necklace for years, old man. I'm pretty sure I'd know if it dated back to King-"

"Be brave in moments of darkness."

My mouth opened, then closed.

He winked. "That coin is worth a lot more than you know, boy."

"...how much are we talking here?" I asked, lowering my eyebrows.

His breath was slightly rancid in my ear, but I immediately forgot all about it the moment he uttered the price.

"You can't be serious," I replied, shooting back. With that type of money, he'd be able to by Louis's Chevrolet three times over! "For a measly coin?"

"It's more than a measly coin. To me, anyway. You see: I pride myself on collecting fragments of the old," he explained in a hushed tone. "I've taken a particular liking to those artifacts owned by Arthur and his knights of the Round Table. I've found many that once belonged to the other knights--yet never Arthur's."

My hands tightened on the necklace. "So you're saying you can pay me up front if I give this to you? Right now?"

"Right now." He nodded.

I caved in immediately when I saw the green dollar bills emerge from his pocket.

"You have a deal."

***

"Okay, maybe that was a little fun," I admitted, resting my feet on the center console between Louis and Jason's seats. The old man's money flipped easily through my fingers.

"The ol' King Arthur coin trick works every time," Jason said with a satisfied sigh. "I don't know how you manage it."

"That's because I'm better than you. The handsome, young high schooler? I'm easy prey for them."

"Next time sell the car," Louis grumbled from behind the steering wheel. The engine of the Chevrolet let out a slow, guttural cough as he revved it. "We could get gold for this dirtbag. Shiny on the outside, shitty on the inside."

"Do you guys have another go in you?" Jason questioned. "There's one more of these going on in the next town over."

I popped open the black case sitting on the leather seat next to me. Inside were four Pendragon family crest necklaces, identical to the one I'd grifted to the old man. "Make it four," I said. "I bet I can swindle four."

Louis chuckled. "You're one hell of a con artist, Dez."

"I learned from the best," I replied, casting a glance at Jason.

My brother only sighed again. "Oh, how I love annual antique fairs."

With another growl of Louis's Chevrolet, we rode off into the sunset, $100,000 dollars richer.