King Me!

by Deborah Blake

  Morgan had to hand it to her; that was a pretty neat trick. Had Fay actually created the images in mid-air, or placed them directly in Morgan’s mind? Morgan wouldn’t mind knowing how to do that, but no way was she going to take Fay’s offer. She wasn’t stupid enough to say so right now or she’d never get the woman to leave.

  “Well…I won’t say it isn’t tempting,” she answered. “But I don’t know how I could possibly turn Arthur over to you. I mean, what would you do to him if you had him?”

  Fay smiled broadly, her teeth blinding in the early morning light. “Why, my dear, I would take him home and love him forever, as I have always longed to do. No matter what he might have told you, I intend him and Merlin no harm. I only wish to cherish and protect him.” She looked sharply at Morgan. “I’m sure he’s completely lost in this strange new place and time. I am the only person he knows from our time, you know, aside from Merlin. And Merlin, well, he’s not exactly normal, dear, is he?”

  And you are? Morgan thought. She was beginning to see how Fay had won over so many members of Arthur’s court, way back when. She was so smooth and plausible, and everything she said made so much sense on the surface. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she actually wanted to take charge of Arthur for his own good.

  “Well, I’ll have to think about it,” Morgan said. “I don’t know Arthur all that well, but I don’t get the sense that he wants to go with you.”

  Fay gave another tinkling laugh. “Really, dear, when do men ever know what’s good for them? That’s what women are for.” She paused and cocked her head to one side. “You know, Morgan dear, it suddenly occurs to me that you keep talking about Arthur, and you haven’t mentioned Merlin even once.” Fay narrowed her eyes and stared into Morgan’s face as if to see what was hidden in her mind. “You do actually have them both, don’t you, dear?”

  Morgan gulped. “Uh, well, of course I do. I have them both. Hidden in a safe place. Both of them.”

  Fay threw back her head and laughed out loud. “You don’t, do you?” She looked pensive. “What did you do, lose him somewhere along the way?”

  Morgan stuttered something incoherent, but Fay just waved her off. “Never mind, dear. I’ll find out eventually. Goodness, that changes things a bit, doesn’t it?” She glanced down at her diamond-encrusted watch. “Well, I have to take my private jet back to Los Angeles. Filming waits for no woman, after all. You’ll think over what I said, won’t you, dear? My offer still holds. It would be much easier for everyone if you just handed Arthur over to me.” She paused for moment, and suddenly looked older, taller, and meaner, without actually changing at all. “I will have what I want, Morgan. Or the world will pay dearly for my disappointment. I’ve already started melting the polar ice caps—just think what I could do if I were really put out.”

  Morgan gaped as Fay turned to walk back to the white limo that waited at the curb for her, then swiveled back around to face Morgan. “But don’t wait too long to make up your mind, dear. Because if I find Merlin first, I won’t need you any more, will I?”

  She waved goodbye gaily, allowed the driver to hand her into the car and was driven off. Somehow Morgan felt like it would have been more appropriate if the woman had disappeared in a great cloud of smoke.

  Morgan walked slowly back toward the house to tell Arthur he’d been right about Fay LeBeau. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

  Frankly, for all of Morgan’s bravado, she had to admit that meeting the sorceress had scared the hell out of her. She’d better tell the other coven members to ramp up the search for Merlin. And look into the possibility that Fay was somehow the force behind global warming. When they’d done a spell to save the world, it had never occurred to them that magic could be the cause of the current ecological meltdown. Now it seemed they really did have to save the planet. And they might be running out of time.

  Chapter Nine

  Arthur could not believe his eyes. He’d awoken to a quiet house and gone in search of Morgan, only to look out the window and see her and that woman talking together on the front lawn. And not just talking, but smiling and shaking hands as if they were the best of friends. God’s blood—for all he knew, they were! Maybe this had all been some cunning plot they had hatched between them. They were both witches, after all. And women. And no one knew better than he that women could not be trusted.

  You would think he would have learned, after all he had gone through with Morgana Le Fay and Guinevere. And yet, he had actually been starting to believe in Morgan, despite her name, her gender, and the fact that she was a witch. Had he completely lost his mind? Perhaps she had cast a spell on him. Perhaps they both had.

  Arthur gnashed his teeth and reached again for a long-gone sword. If the laws of chivalry did not forbid the striking of women, he would…he would…

  The front door opened and closed again, and Morgan walked into the living room. She looked startled to see him there, no doubt thinking him still safely asleep in her bed, thus leaving her free to plot who knew what evil deeds with her partner in treachery. Arthur scowled at her. There was nothing he liked less than being played for the fool.

  Was it not enough that his wife and his best friend had cuckolded him in front of the entire court? Now he had to deal with this brazen deceitfulness by the one person he had started to trust in this strange new world? It was just too much. A wave of rage built behind his eyes and threatened to explode into a flood of fury. How dare she act so sweet and sympathetic when he told her his tale of woe, only to turn around and betray him to the woman who had been the cause of it all? What kind of monster was this witch, so beautiful in face and form, yet so dark and foul inside?

  He drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He could not wait to hear her try to cover up her perfidy.

  “You will not believe who just showed up!” the wench exclaimed. “Fay LeBeau! She was just here. Seriously, I turned around and there she was. I just about swallowed my tongue!”

  Ha! Arthur thought. Trying to act the innocent with him, pretending she has not expected “Fay.” As if he was fool enough to fall for that.

  “Oh,” he replied calmly. “Is that so? And what did the sorceress want, pray tell?”

  Morgan looked puzzled. “Aren’t you surprised she turned up here so fast? I sure as hell was.” She shook her head. “She said a spell told her you’d come back and helped her locate you. She’s one cool broad; I’ll say that for her.”

  Arthur gave her his most haughty look. “She has always been a cold-hearted woman. I would not expect her to have changed.”

  “Huh?” Morgan hesitated for a moment. “Oh, no, when we say cool, we mean—never mind.” She put a dirty hand on his arm. “The important thing is that she knows you’re here. We’ll have to be even more careful than we thought.”

  “Oh, we will, will we?” Arthur raised an eyebrow and carelessly shrugged off her hand, ignoring her hurt look. “And I suppose you are telling me that you will keep me safe from the sorceress now calling herself Fay LeBeau?” He took a few steps away from Morgan, although he did not trust her enough to turn his back.

  “Arthur?” The witch did her best to sound confused and off balance, as if she did not see where he was leading with his words. “I know you’re upset that she tracked you down so fast, but we’ll think of something, I promise.”

  The room vanished in a red haze as Arthur’s temper exploded. “You PROMISE, do you? And what is your promise worth, Witch? A handful of gold? Some magical tricks to add to your repertoire? How much is the price of a king, in this modern time?”

  He thought he saw guilt on her face. “So, you untrustworthy wench—what was the bargain for which you sold your soul and my freedom?”

  Morgan turned pink. “I did not sell you out, you ungrateful, suspicious, obnoxious red-headed oaf!” She stomped her foot and flung her hair back with both hands. “I can not believe you just accused me of lying, after everything I’ve done f
or you!”

  “Everything you have done for me!” Arthur yelled, taking a step back in her direction. “You treacherous, scheming adder!” He had never seen a woman who could look so innocent while telling such blatant untruths. “You brought me here against my will, taking me out of my own time where I belonged and into this mad world where nothing makes sense. You misplaced the only friend I had left and claim to have no way to find him. And then I see you plotting with the woman who wants to destroy me, and you dare to call me names?”

  He took two more steps until he stood right in front of her, and thundered, “Have you no respect for your king?”

  To his surprise, instead of backing down, Morgan stood on tiptoe and yelled right back, “Not when he acts like a horse’s ass, I don’t! As if I would ever turn you over to that snotty bitch. Ha! She can take her stupid witch tricks and shove them!”

  She paused for breath and then resumed her tirade. “And I will not learn to curtsey just so you can feel like a man, damn it! I’m sorry I brought you here—I don’t know how many times I can apologize for the same thing. But you must be here for a reason or the gods wouldn’t have made it happen. So if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you would stop yelling at me and help me figure out what the hell to do next!”

  Arthur looked down into her furious countenance and felt an unaccustomed twinge of doubt. He had been so sure…had he not seen them, talking and laughing together? But the expression on her face, while not becoming, had the aura of one who was truly affronted. Was it possible he could be wrong?

  “How do you explain what I witnessed through yon window?” he asked in a marginally quieter voice. Arthur tried to reclaim the calm dignity befitting a king. “I saw the two of you with my own eyes. You smiled and shook her hand. Would you have me believe that meant nothing?”

  Morgan took a deep breath and settled her heels back down onto the floor, craning her neck to look into his eyes. “I was trying to convince her I might consider her offer, buying some time to find Merlin. I swear, Arthur, that’s all it was.” She hesitated, and then added, “I swear on my honor as a Witch and on the lives of my coven mates. I would never lie to you, Your Majesty.”

  He looked deep into her green eyes as if he could find the truth in their depths. The oaths she swore were not unlike those used by the Knights of the Round Table. The words might be different, but the meaning was the same. She pledged her truthfulness based on all those things she held most dear. And looking into those eyes, he could not doubt her. Arthur sighed. He could not believe he was actually going to place his life in the hands of a woman—this woman in particular—but so it was.

  She was gazing at him, her head tilted up, and he was suddenly struck by an overwhelming urge to kiss those soft lips that had moments ago been used to hurl insults at him. He could see all the emotions she felt as they flitted across her fair countenance: anger, worry, doubt, and maybe reluctant affection. How could he have thought her capable of a lie, when everything she felt was written upon her visage for all to see?

  “Uh, Arthur?” Morgan said hesitantly.

  “Yes, Witch?” He bent his head down closer to hers.

  She bit her lip in an endearing indication of concern. “Are we done fighting now?”

  Arthur moved his lips closer, so that they hovered right above her own. “Yes, Witch, we are done fighting.” He closed the gap between them and enjoyed watching her eyes widen as she realized his intentions. At last, he would show her what made him feel like a man. And curtsying was no part of it.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes. King Arthur was about to kiss her. King Arthur. Was going to kiss her. Holy crap! She closed her eyes, surprised to find herself trembling slightly, and braced herself for the touch of his lips on hers.

  Instead, she heard a deafening clap of thunder. Lightning flashed right outside the window, shaking the ground as its power hit somewhere nearby. She and Arthur ran to the window. Her next-door neighbor’s beautiful oak tree had split in two. Holy crap squared. Morgan peered around cautiously. No sign of a storm. Not even rain. How weird was that?

  Suddenly, a dark shape flew by the window, so close she could have sworn she felt the breeze from its passing. A raven landed in the smoking ruins of the oak tree and cawed at them raucously. What was it with the lightening and the ravens, she wondered. It was just like after the ritual on the night of the eclipse. Was it that damned Fay, trying to intimidate her? But, no. The sorceress hadn’t found out about Arthur until later.

  And wait—hadn’t her Granny said something about ravens?

  Damn. Thinking about Fay reminded Morgan there was still something she had to confess to Arthur. She turned to him and prepared to face the music. And they’d been getting along so well for the last thirty seconds.

  “Um, Arthur?” she said.

  He looked at her questioningly. “Yes, Witch?”

  “Um.” Damn, just when he’d started to trust her. And now she had to tell him that she’d betrayed their only secret to Fay. Yes, it had been an accident—but how many accidents could she expect him to forgive? “I need to tell you something.” She hesitated. “Please don’t get mad.”

  Arthur smiled at her. “If you are going to tell me that you caused the lightening to strike just to avoid a kiss from me, I will most certainly be irate.”

  “No, that wasn’t me.” She chuckled. “I can’t do lightening, and, uh, I was kind of looking forward to the kiss.”

  He took a step toward her. “Then by all means, let us get back to it.”

  Morgan held up a hand reluctantly. “I think you’d better let me say this first. You may not be much in the mood to kiss me once you’ve heard what I have to say.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “How bad can it be?”

  “Pretty bad, actually.” She looked at the floor and mumbled, “I kind of accidentally let Fay know that we don’t have Merlin.” Then she braced herself for the yelling.

  After a minute of silence, she raised her head and looked at Arthur. He looked steadily back.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything? Call me a traitorous wench or something?” Morgan asked.

  “You told her that Merlin was missing?” he asked calmly. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “Oh, no, I just didn’t mention him,” she said. “And Fay figured it out.”

  “She was always clever,” said Arthur. He sighed.

  “So what are we going to do?” she asked. “Now Fay is searching for Merlin, too. And if she finds him first…” She shook her head.

  Arthur shifted restlessly. “If we were in Camelot, I would put together a party of armed knights and lead them out to hunt for anyone who had seen or heard of Merlin’s presence. But in your world, I am useless. I cannot even cast a spell to find him, as he could to find me, were I the one who was lost.”

  “Hey, that’s an idea!” Morgan exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She smacked herself on the forehead. “Some witch I am.”

  “What?” Arthur said, puzzlement creasing his brow. “What did I say?”

  She grabbed him by the hand and started dragging him toward her bedroom. “We can try doing a searching for a lost objects spell. I’ve found keys and other stuff that way; maybe I can find Merlin, too.

  “Morgan?” Arthur asked as she pulled him down the hallway.

  “Yes, Arthur?”

  “Why are you taking me to your bedroom?” When she turned to look at him, she detected a slight blush on his already ruddy face. “This hardly seems to be the time,” he said, regret clear in his voice. “Not that I do not appreciate the thought.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes at him. “You big twit.” She pushed open the door to the bedroom. “I keep my magical supplies in here.” She waved her hand in the direction of a large wooden armoire in the corner of the room.

  Morgan started pulling candles and herbs out of the cabinet and piling them in Arthur’s well-muscled arms. When she’d grabbed everything she could think of, she put her Book
of Shadows on top and led the way back through the kitchen and out the back door.

  Arthur looked around with interest since he hadn’t been out that way before. Instead of the grassy lawn and flowers that adorned the front of the house, the back was filled with rectangular garden beds overflowing with vegetables and herbs. On three sides tall white fencing sheltered the place from prying eyes, and toward the back a clear space was empty except for a circle of flat stones about nine feet around with a fire pit in the exact center and one large raised stone off to one side.

  “Is this your magical circle?” Arthur asked, more curiosity in his tone than distaste, now. “Merlin used one much like it at Camelot. He usually preferred to do his magical work inside a cave or one of his workrooms, but he said that there were times what it was better to be outside in the open air.”

  Morgan looked at him with interest. “Merlin talked to you about magic? Maybe you can tell me what he did.”

  Arthur laughed. “To be honest, I never paid much attention. Magic was his area of expertise, not mine. I was content to stick to dispensing justice and fighting battles. I never truly felt comfortable with magical things.”

  “Well, you’d better get comfortable,” Morgan said. “Because I’m going to need your help with this spell.”

  The king looked chagrined. “But I know nothing of magic. Should I not wait in the house until you are finished?”

  Morgan put down her load of supplies and grinned up at the tall king. “Man up, Your Majesty. You may not know anything about magic, but you know Merlin. So you are the best one to help me look for him.”

  Hours later, after a spell that failed to so much as raise a spark, and several phone calls to coven members, Morgan and Arthur sat across from each other at the kitchen table. They had uneaten sandwiches in front of them and matching expressions of disappointment on both their faces.