Cave Of Lost Souls

We walked in and Pops looked up from the knife. He held the hilt in one hand and had the tip against one of his fingers. It wasn't a huge sword in length, but it was thick.

"Have a seat."

Troy took the one closest to the window and I took the one closest to the door.

"What'd you find?" Troy asked, leaning forward, picking up the knife.

"It's old. Dated back to the Crusades."

Pops handed over the knife when Troy held out his hand.

"The craftsmanship is exquisite," Pops continued. "Not many in that time possessed skill required to make something like this."

"Was this someone you knew?" Troy handed Pops back the blade.

"There is one who could have made it, but he's long gone. Sharra put him to rest."

I started at the sound of her name. "What's his name?" I asked.

"Arthur Pendragon." Professor Pops took the short sword from Troy and placed it in the top drawer of his desk.

My body began to shake.

"What's wrong?" Troy asked.

Professor Pops clasped his hands together. "Jasmine?"

"W