Lamp Black, Wolf Grey

by Paula Brackston

  She walked on, not knowing where to, but certain she was following the sound of Merlin’s voice. She wanted to find him now. She needed to see him again. Alone and away from anyone who might remind her of the insanity of what she was doing. She passed the sloping oak and stepped out into the small glade beyond it. She stopped, waiting, completely sure he would appear. After a moment she could not resist speaking.

  “Merlin?” It felt strange hearing her own voice, little more than a whisper, calling out his name. “I’m here,” she said.

  “I knew you would come.”

  Laura started. She had been searching the trees for the slightest movement, yet she had not noticed Merlin enter the clearing.

  He reached forward and touched her hair. Then he stroked her cheek. Blood suffused her skin at that strangely familiar touch. They stood wordlessly regarding one another. She looked closely at Merlin, trying to read him, to know him. Nearby, an owl screeched and took flight.

  “What is it you expect of me?” she asked him. ’You say our destinies are linked … but you don’t say how. I still don’t understand.”

  “You will. In time, everything will become clear.” He was silent for a moment, his expression distant. When he spoke again his voice faltered, and Laura noticed with astonishment that he was trembling. “There was a time, here, in this place, when my fate was entwined with that of another. Our future together was uncertain, but we were full of the hope that love brings. Alas, such obstacles were strewn in our path, such wickedness pitched against us.… But now, with you, Laura, destiny has offered another chance. A chance for what was meant to be.”

  “But, we can’t be together, you and I,” she said.

  “No. Though I confess I wish that it were possible.” He smiled and then asked, “Tell me, do you believe in magic?”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m here talking to you, how could I not believe?”

  Merlin took her hand and placed it on his own heart. Then he gently set his palm against her stomach. “Close your eyes,” he told her. “Close your eyes and make a wish. A single wish, for what it is you long for most in the world.”

  The second her lids fell shut Laura felt a dizziness take hold of her. She staggered a little to keep her balance, but Merlin held her. She had the sensation she was falling, tipping backward and drifting down, down, down. Her head filled with the sound of distant thunder, starting low and then building to a tremendous wave of sound. She gasped, a little afraid. And then, suddenly, it all stopped. She felt Merlin’s gentle touch against her cheek once more, and then … nothing. When she opened her eyes she was standing alone in the glade. Alone save for the owls and the badgers, and the myriad tiny eyes watching her from their hiding places. Brushing tears away, she turned and hurried back toward the house.

  13

  THE NEXT MORNING Laura found it hard to focus on the demands of everyday life. Dan had taken another day off work, and he and Steph were flying a kite with the boys in the high meadows. As Laura watched them from her studio window, she wondered that no one had apparently noticed anything strange about her. She felt herself irrevocably changed by the events of the night before. Her mind was still reeling, still marveling at what had happened. It was as though she no longer inhabited only the real world, but had stepped over into another alternative version that was constantly swirling about them. At the moment she stood astride the invisible divide, a foot in each reality, but how long could that last? Merlin’s hold over her, the bond she felt with him, her need for him, was making it impossible to stay grounded in her own life, with her husband, her home, the boys, and her art.

  And then there was Rhys. She rubbed her temples, unwilling to even think about him now, yet knowing she had no choice. He was expecting her to go to the croft that night, and she was afraid of what he might do if she did not show up. She watched Steph in the field, laughing as Dan steadied her arm to help control the kite. They looked close and, for that moment at least, happy. Surely there couldn’t be any truth in Rhys’s suggestion? Steph and Dan—it was unthinkable. Just another convolution of Rhys’s bizarrely twisted mind. Another attempt to turn her away from Dan, and toward himself. How could he have known that there was someone else who held her in his thrall? Laura was beginning to question her own sanity. She only knew that the presence that had somehow drawn her to Penlan in the first place was Merlin’s. That the connection she felt with him was something real and unique and far beyond any passing lustful crush she had had on Rhys. But Merlin had said their time together was limited. That although their destinies were linked, they would not, could not, ultimately be together. It was a cruel fact to have to face. But face it she must. And when Merlin did finally move out of her reach, there would be Dan, waiting for her. Laura shook her head, certain, at that moment, that she did not deserve him. Watching Dan now she felt a stab of deep, deep sadness. This had been their new beginning. Somehow she had lost sight of that. Something strange and wonderful had happened to her. Something no one else could possibly understand. Something that had changed her forever. How could she ever go back to the way things were, to who she was before?

  At least she was able to think clearly enough to know that she still loved Dan. And of course she loved Steph and Angus and the boys. It was for them that she would have to deal, once and for all, with Rhys. If she did not face him and tell him herself that it was over between them he would never believe her, she was sure of that. And it just might be that she was the only person who could deliver such news without him reacting with violence. However warped his sense of right and wrong, he loved her. He was besotted with her. She had to trust his obsession to keep her safe. She had thought long and hard about going to the police with what she knew, but how could she possibly make them believe her? Rhys had no feasible motive for hurting him. On top of which, she could not prove Rhys had pushed him or that he had deliberately removed the survival blanket. She could hardly back up her theories with the tangled rantings of an old woman and the word of someone who had, at least to everyone else, been dead for several hundred years. And if she voiced her thoughts to Dan and Steph, what then? Where would she start? She could never fully explain. She had brought the situation about, and it was up to her to stop things before anyone else got hurt. And if that meant squaring up to Rhys, then so be it. And maybe, just maybe, she could find some sort of proof for her theories. Something more than her own conjecture, so that she could go to the police. Perhaps then they could be rid of his dangerous presence once and for all.

  * * *

  MEGAN DRIFTED IN and out of a feverish sleep. The cold and the damp had assaulted her body, which now trembled and sweated and shivered, at once hot and chilled. She knew that such an illness could well be sufficient to kill her. She was already weak, and Huw’s visits over the past endless stretch of time had grown further apart and less frequent. On the last occasion he had failed to bring food and given her wine to drink. It had temporarily eased her suffering, but left her more in need of water than before. She feared for the tiny life inside her. How much more of such brutal privations could it survive? Would she herself hold out long enough for Merlin to find her? He had been badly wounded, of that she was certain. The small hole in the interior wall allowed not so much light in, as an impression of a less dense darkness. It was just enough to indicate morn from night. Because of this she was aware that many slow days had passed since her dream, days that could be added to form weeks. She had not heard his voice in all that time. Had the old woman failed to save him? Megan stroked the now grimy fabric of the dress over her belly and spoke to her child.

  “There, my precious little one. Rest gently. We will wait for him together.” So saying she curled herself up like a cat on the rough floor, closed her eyes against the grimness, and rode the swell of her fever into sleep once more. Sometime later she heard unfamiliar noises. At first she thought she might be dreaming again, but no, these were sounds from the waking world. She sat up, staring at the inner wall, listening t
o the rhythmic thudding and scraping coming from the other side. Someone was digging.

  “Megan?” Huw’s little voice squeezed through the gap they had made together.

  “Huw? What is happening?”

  “All is well, Megan. Fear no more. He is come to save you!”

  “He?”

  “I am here, Megan, my love. I am here.”

  At the sound of the words—the voice—she had waited so long for, Megan was almost overcome.

  “Merlin!” she sobbed. “Is it really you?”

  “Stand back from the wall,” he told her. “I must use a heavy hammer.”

  She did as he instructed, raising one arm to protect her eyes from the dust and dislodged masonry, while the other cradled her belly. The hammer blows sent shudders through both the wall and her entire body. She wondered no one in the castle heard them, or indeed felt them. Merlin worked on. She felt rather than saw the great stones begin to move. At last, handfuls of lime and stone began to fly free, and in a few more moments dust-filled light entered the space. Megan held her sleeve over her mouth now as the unbreathable air threatened to choke her. Yet more hammering, and a man-sized lump fell into the room, leaving a void behind it. Through the swirling dust stepped Merlin. Megan thought she might faint away from a mixture of delirium, exhaustion, and happiness. He reached in and pulled her gently from her tomb, steadying her as even the dim light of the dungeon hurt her eyes.

  “There.” He supported her while he held a flask of water to her cracked lips. “Drink. You are safe now.”

  She coughed as the water washed more grit from her mouth, then drank deeply. When finally she let him take the water from her, she smiled through her unsteady vision and said, “I have never tasted anything so sweet, nor seen any sight so welcome.”

  “I would never have had this happen to you. And for such a time. I should have come to your aid much sooner, my love. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing at all to forgive. You are here now. All is well.” She looked over at Huw. “And besides, I have had my brave, brave little soldier to care for me.”

  Huw beamed and blushed and rushed forward to embrace Megan. He looked so much less a little boy than when she had last seen him, even though it had only been a matter of a few weeks. It was as though his experiences had robbed him of his innocence and his childhood, and at such a tender age. She kissed his cheeks.

  “Thank you, Huw. I am forever in your debt, my tiny hero.”

  “I would do anything for you, Megan, anything.”

  “Come,” Merlin said as he picked up the torch. “We must leave. I have subdued the dungeon guards, but we might be discovered at any time.”

  “Indeed you might.”

  All three turned as one, shrinking back against the ruined wall. Lord Geraint stood before them, sword drawn, four soldiers flanking him.

  “Well, well,” he said slowly. “I admit to deriving some small satisfaction from seeing a plan come to fruition. It seems all things do indeed come to he who waits.”

  “Let us pass.” Merlin’s words were in the shape of a demand, not a request. “You have no fight with this maid. She has done nothing, and you have treated her with cruelty beyond measure. I have come to take her from this hellish place.”

  “Did you in all truth believe you could walk in here, take the girl, and walk out again? Had you really imagined that using your foul magic to addle the senses of a few lowly guards would be sufficient to breach the defenses of my castle? You insult me, Magician, and not for the first time. I was ahead of your reckless plan to involve Lord Idris.”

  “We were betrayed.”

  “There will always be men more loyal to gold than to that jumped-up peasant boy who calls himself noble. It was a costly skirmish, and one for which you must bear responsibility. Good men lost their lives. Llewelyn lost a hand, though God knows I should take the other for his failure to capture you. And Idris made good his escape, damn him. You cannot imagine I would let you have your freedom.”

  “Please, Father, let Megan go. Please don’t hurt her anymore.” Huw stepped forward, holding out his hands to his parent in a heartfelt entreaty.

  “Stand aside, boy! You are no son of mine.”

  “Father!”

  “It comes as no surprise to see where your allegiance lies. For years I have raised you as my own, when it was plain to all with fingers to count and eyes to see the color of your hair to know you were not. And this is how you repay me. Treachery! Betrayal!”

  “You are cruel and wicked!” Huw shouted, clenching angry fists. “It is no wonder mother chose Lord Idris over you!”

  Lord Geraint flinched as if the child had struck him, and then he let out a bellow and lunged forward. Megan saw in that instant that he was going to kill Huw. With a scream, summoning strength she thought had long ago left her forever, she flung herself in front of the boy. The sword’s point found its target, digging deep through flesh and muscle, but the breast it pierced was not Huw’s but Megan’s.

  The dungeon was filled with cacophonous cries. Huw screamed as Megan fell at his feet, blood pouring from her wound. Merlin sprang forward with the roar of a wild beast. He grabbed Lord Geraint by the throat before the man had a second to evade him. With superhuman speed and power, he lifted him up and slammed him against the wall. The soldiers hesitated to go to their master’s aid, seeing the strength and fury of the wild man in front of them. One summoned the courage to charge with his sword. Without so much as glancing in his direction, Merlin used his free hand to send an unseen thunderbolt cracking into the swordsman’s chest. The young man shrieked in pain, and his body flew backward, crashing against the far wall. The other soldiers backed away. A terrified silence replaced the noise. All that could be heard were the gurgling noises from Lord Geraint’s throat as Merlin let him slowly choke in his iron grasp.

  “Mercy!” he croaked, his hands clawing at Merlin’s wrist, his feet kicking. “Mercy!”

  Merlin watched him struggle. “When in your evil life have you ever known the meaning of that word?” he asked. At last, Lord Geraint’s eyes clouded over, his tongue lolled from his mouth, and his futile struggling came to an end. Merlin released him, and the body slid onto the rubble of the dismantled wall. Lord Geraint lay broken and twisted and grotesque, unloved and unmourned. Merlin turned to the soldiers, who cowered under his gaze. “Let him stay where he lies,” he told them. “Let no man move him, so that he rot here—the fate he had intended for Megan.” He dropped to Megan’s side. Huw was desperately pressing his bundled shirt to her wound, but already it ran scarlet, and a pool of blood grew at their feet.

  “Megan! How have I brought you to this?” Merlin took her hand and kissed it. “What use is my magic now? What use at all, when I do not possess the power that could save you?”

  “Hush now.” She stroked his cheek. “This is not your failing. Evil men will do evil, and the hapless innocent will sometimes get in their path. It is the way of things.”

  Merlin pressed his face to her belly, tears spilling from his eyes, his voice cracked and hoarse. “Do not leave me!” he begged her. “You are my life, both of you!”

  Megan winced with pain, grateful at least for the fever, which was blurring the edges of the agony she should otherwise be engulfed by. She struggled to speak.

  “Take me out of this place,” she said. “Take me up to the sunlight once more.”

  Merlin looked at her, his own heart as broken as hers, and nodded. Gently he lifted her up and turned to leave. In front of them the remaining soldiers shuffled nervously. Without a word he subdued them, so that they stood aside, heads bowed, as he carried Megan out.

  Slowly he wound up the twisting stairs. In his arms Megan moaned lightly. She was so happy to be close to him now, at the end, that she felt no fear, only sadness for him and for their child. He took her onto the parapet of the nearest tower and knelt down, cradling her in his lap. It had been a bright day, and now the sun was just touching the horizon, sending cr
imson and scarlet slashes through the forget-me-not sky.

  Megan sighed as she looked out at the mountains. It was good to see them again, to feel the fresh, clean air on her face, to be free once more, for however brief a moment. She heard Huw sobbing softly behind her and looked up into the tortured eyes of her lover. With some effort she raised a bloodstained hand and touched Merlin’s face.

  “Do not weep for me, my love. We were the favored ones, to have found each other and shared one sun-kissed summer. I am only sorry I did not give you the child you long for. It was not meant to be. Instead, I will take it with me to heaven to keep me company. And you will find another.”

  “No…” He shook his head.

  “Yes, you will. One day. And she will ease your aching heart and give you your child.” She wanted to say more, but she felt faint and distant, her vision unclear. Suddenly she was high above the castle walls, floating above the crenellations of the tower. Looking down she could see Merlin holding her in his arms, weeping silently over her limp body as Huw stood a short way off. How curious it was to see herself thus, to be a distant observer of her own death. A sound distracted her. She turned her head the better to catch the voices she believed she had heard. At last they were louder. It filled her with joy to hear her father’s voice again. And her mother’s, too! Gently but persistently they called her name. Megan took one last, lingering look at the man who clung to her earthly body, then turned away and was gone.