by Candace Sams
“I fully expect he’s called out every employee to search for you by now. Not to worry, Jean. No harm can come to anyone in this circle, not from any source,” he told her as he walked into the circle of stones. “This is a sacred place. Anyone attempting to harm another here will find themselves quite debilitated. That includes me. It’s barely possible to lift a sword within these megalithic stones, nor a fist. At least, not in anger.”
She glanced at the stones of which he spoke. “Plenty of people have died in these old places. I’ve read about it. Granted, I’d not heard of this site before, but it’s surely like all the others. Ancient people used to make sacrifices in these places all the time. I saw a documentary—”
“They made sacrifices in other stone circles. Not this one. This one is special. There are a few more like it in the world. You’ll need to learn the location of all of them. They’re actually referred to as protective circles.”
She was as bewildered by his nonchalance as she was her patient participation in the entire conversation. Why was she standing there listening to such ridiculous blather?
“My dear, this is one of the places to which you may retreat if you find yourself beset by anyone looking to harm you.” He waved one hand in dismissal. “Luckily, such sad tidings rarely befall Ethereals. We’re very powerful.”
“What?” She felt like a broken recording, uttering that same query over and over.
“To date, we’ve never even figured out why or how we exist…let alone what we are or how we came by our powers. This is one of the prime reasons our secrecy has been so seriously maintained. Criminals confronted by Ethereals never see us coming. If they’re rogues, they think we’re simply immortals. That’s if we don’t hide our powers and mask our presences from them entirely, which is quite possible. Of course, it will take some time to teach you that little trick. At any rate, whatever our enemies think, they’re either under arrest, or their heads are on the ground before they know what hit them. Bloodnight only felt my immortality because I allowed him to—”
“Wait! Wait just a minute! Slow the hell down!”
“Yes?” he softly responded.
“You had access to my accident records? You’re saying that my eyes glow, and that you’ve been reading reports on me to see how I’ve been progressing. Do I have all that right?” she breathlessly asked.
“Quite so. Anytime an Ethereal appears on the world scene, I’m notified, as I’ve told you. I train and keep track of them, you see. To date, none has ever shown any inclination to becoming rogues. We’re quite fortunate in that respect. Then again, there are so very few of us to begin with. And…we’re so very kind-hearted, and good. Becoming a rogue is likely out of the question.”
“Uh huh. I see.” She shook her head in anger. “Okay…I’m leaving now. I suggest you do the same,” she slowly and carefully told him.
“I know you don’t believe a single world I’ve said, but it’s all true. Sadly, it’s already too late to get back. If I’m not mistaken, the sound I hear is coming from a very large man…someone who’s not attempting to hide his approach.” Merlin snorted. “The man isn’t acting professional. He’s using no stealth at all. However, given the circumstances and his probable outrage, I suppose his bounding up the slope like a bull after a cow is to be expected.”
“Crap!” Jean blurted as she picked up the sound of which Jon Merdwyn spoke.
“Jean! Jean Long! Where the bloody devil are you?”
She winced at the angry timbre of that baritone voice.
“I know you’re here, woman. You left the grounds after I explicitly told you not to! Where are you?”
Jean slowly turned toward the sound of that blustery, angry-sounding call.
“We’re here, Bloodnight. Head this way, lad. You’ll find us,” Jon shouted.
She briefly closed her eyes, gulped and waited.
For the first time, she literally felt the fury of a very large man who, heretofore, had never been in such a bad temper.
I wish I was anyplace else in the world.
She slowly faced the sound of bushes being pushed aside, and old wood snapping as if someone with a lot of power and motivation was shredding it all to bits.
There was one thing about which she was certain. Gart would never let her out of the house again. After this, she’d probably be chained to a post, with Anna Gast feeding her porridge from a bowl.
When Gart appeared, he stopped suddenly and surveyed his surroundings. She guessed that he hadn’t known this old, overgrown stone circle even existed. He seemed shocked to find such a place on his own property. But then, it was totally surrounded by brush and almost completely hidden by a stand of large trees. It was on a hill that was difficult to climb, and on land that most people in the vicinity would likely deem off limits by the owner.
The peace of the circle in which she found herself didn’t last long. The larger and younger of the two men raised his right arm. A massive broadsword was clutched in his hand.
She opened her mouth to warn him of the circle’s powers, even though she wasn’t sure Jon told the truth in that regard. Before she uttered a syllable, a bright green light flashed, and her would-be savior was literally thrown against one of the stones. The speed and force of that unholy attack would have been unbelievable but for the fact that she was standing there and saw it with her own eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Bloodnight,” Jon called out. Then, the older man turned to Jean again. “He’s likely never brought a weapon into such a place, or he’d know these circles have magnificent powers.” He shook his head slowly and passed one hand over his forehead. “I suppose I should let that bit of top secret information get distributed from home office, for the sake of other immortals working with the government. Still, it just doesn’t happen except in movies. No one has sword fights in megalithic circles. At least they haven’t for centuries.” He tilted his head. “Now that I think of it, there are quite a few things I’d better bring to Bloodnight’s attention. It’s high time he knows about me…about us,” he corrected.
Jon moved forward and tried to help Gart to a standing position. Gart angrily pushed the older man’s arm away, and very slowly stood on his own. His sword had been flung to the ground when the energy bolt struck him, the handle of it was well beyond his reach.
Jean stood still, unable to process anything except events occurring in the precise moment. This had to be a dream. It must be.
Gart wobbled like a buoy on water. His expression displayed bewilderment. It occurred to her that some enterprising rogue could take his head at that moment. The man couldn’t defend himself. He blinked as if he couldn’t yet see his surroundings.
For Gart not to know of such protective stone circles, they must be rare indeed. But Jon Merdwyn knew of them. That was when truth began to slowly sink in.
Jon was telling the truth. At least, he was telling the truth as he believed it be.
She slowly put up her hands in a defensive posture. “Don’t hurt him, Jon.”
“My dear girl, you saw what happened when he practiced aggression within the boundaries of a protective circle. Even I am not capable of doing harm here.” He let out a loud, frustrated sigh. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.” Jon then put his attention on the younger man present. “We need to have a talk, Bloodnight. I can think of no better place than here or now.”
Jean held her breath. Gart was still wobbly, from the intense backward thrust into a massive stone. That green blast had done its work well. It’d be some minutes before her trainer could probably speak. Internally, almost every bone in his ribcage must have been shattered, never mind his spine. Gart seemed to be healing fast enough to use his legs. No matter what had been broken, he could still glare. He did so now—at her and Jon Merdwyn.
“I should do away with pretense,” Jon loudly announced. “I didn’t have time on the last occasion, Bloodnight. You weren’t ready to listen when we first met. Now, perhaps you will.” He held out his hand, expecting
it to be shaken. “The organization knows me as Jon Merdwyn. In another life…in another century long ago…you might have heard me referred to as Merlin.”
Chapter 7
Recovering from a backward slam, initiated by some massive green force he’d never encountered before, Gart ignored the hand Jon offered.
His sword was fifteen feet away, and it took all his strength to stay standing. Even as he did, bones knit and tissue began to mend. In that instant, he knew that if somebody wanted to take his head, they could. For now, he couldn’t defend himself. He needed several more minutes to heal. Sadly, several more minutes was too much time. The older man had him. He’d die, then Jean would. At least, he hoped his and his trainee’s demise would go in that order. He didn’t want to see Jean lose her head. The thought sickened him.
Prior to this night, he’d walked the length and breadth of his property. This megalithic circle had been totally hidden.
Now, the ground on which the stones stood was his trap. The dirt here would serve as his deathbed. Finally feeling as though he could croak out a last command, he looked at Jean.
“Baby, come to me.” He had to force out the heretofore unspoken endearment, and was somewhat mollified when she stumbled toward him, apparently as shocked by this situation as he was.
“I’m sorry, Gart. This is all my fault,” she tearfully muttered.
Finally, she used my first name.
“No, sweetheart. It’s not. It’s mine.”
Gart put his attention back on the Jon-Merlin character, hoping to keep him talking until his internal injuries healed. The ploy was a last effort to try and save them.
“Who the hell are you, mister? And don’t fucking lie to me again,” Gart rasped.
Merlin briefly closed his eyes before answering. “Goddess above…give me patience,” the older man uttered. “Of the very few people who’ve been informed, why do they always have this same, incredulous reaction? And, if you don’t mind, watch your language in front of a lady.”
“I’d like to fucking know, too,” Jean offhandedly countered.
Merlin shook his head and arched one brow. “Women! As long as I’ve lived, I’ve never gotten used to their intense desire to be like men, despite the fact that they’ve always been more powerful, in many ways.”
“Answer the question,” Gart injected.
“I told you the truth. I am Merlin, of Camelot. I was born in the fifth century, and became aware of my Druidic powers early in life. These powers were gifted to me by some unknown source. However, I like to think that they emanate from Mother Nature.”
Gart scowled, but said nothing in response.
Merlin cleared his throat and continued. “I studied with men and women who showed me how to direct energy from the earth, and use it for my purpose. Jean has those same powers though I let her stay with you for a time, to better judge her character. Now, it is up to me to teach her to use her gifts. Reports tell me she’s mentally acclimated enough to handle the truth.” He glanced at Jean. “You can thank Garrett for that.”
She dragged her hands through her hair in response.
“Gart has been sending in the most wondrous reports about you, my dear. According to him, you’re the most proficient student he’s ever seen. Quite…what was the word he used? Ah yes…he said that you were brilliant. That was among the very colorful and complimentary comments he has sent in to home office.”
Even in her obviously stunned state, Gart saw Jean suppress a grin. He ignored her very palpable gratitude, flexed a few muscles, and hoped to keep the other man distracted for a few more seconds. Apparently, the so-called wizard of legend wasn’t going to kill him right away. “Look…I don’t know what game you’re playing, but there is no such person as Merlin. There never was.”
“Gart…I think he’s telling the truth,” Jean acknowledged. “He can do things. Weird things. He can control light. But that blast that hit you wasn’t his. It belongs to the powers of the circle. He told me so. And how could he know about such things if he wasn’t trained to be aware of them? He does have powers.”
Merlin snorted. “The power to produce the green orb is nothing. I can easily teach you to form one, Jean. I only used it because I needed to get your attention, and bring you up the hill. Such dramatics were necessary because I didn’t want Sir Impetuous to intrude, with any sword-swinging, histrionic act of futile chivalry. Well, so much for that!” he gustily responded. “To get back to the point…I waited for days for you to make an appearance. I can imagine you’ve been kept on a very short leash. Did Gart threaten your freedom in any way? Did he tell you to stay inside like a lap dog?”
“You’ve got a real set of brass balls, mister! I’ll give you that,” Gart complained, “but there’s a price for coming on my land and starting crap! Believe me, I intend to exact payment.”
“Your being ridiculous, Garrett Bloodnight! Your unwillingness to listen, as well as your impulsiveness, is unnerving in the extreme. I suppose your size has more to do with your survival over the years. Certainly, your existence has nothing to do with mental acuity.”
“You son-of-a—”
“Stop! Just stop it…both of you!” Jean shouted as she held up her hands between the two men.
Gart turned his attention to her. He was healed now. All he had to do was get to his sword. It was closer to Jon Merdwyn than it was to him. He had to be careful.
“If you reach for that sword again, you’ll end up with another broken back,” Merlin advised. “I know you’ve been attempting to divert me until the damage done to your body is healed, but such stalling wasn’t necessary. It won’t do you any good. Not in this circle! If you don’t calm down, we’ll be here for a very long time. I’ve only chosen to divulge information now because Her Majesty thinks so well of you. And because of how well Jean seems to have responded to your training. Don’t mistake my patience for gullibility,” he angrily explained. “We need to talk, but you first need to listen. After you’ve heard what I have to say, then you may ask intelligent questions. Emphasis on the word intelligent. We need to come to an arrangement as far as Jean’s future training goes. We need an agreement tonight.”
“Don’t I have anything to say about this?” Jean asked.
“No!” both men responded.
Gart frowned but willed himself to stay calm. The last thing Jean needed was to see his head rolling at her feet. “How is it that I’ve never heard of you…Merlin?”
“Have you never read a single word of Arthurian legend? Nothing at all?”
“I was talking about your presence within the organization!”
“I am an Ethereal. Until now, my presence within the organization wasn’t your secret to know. I am not the only one. Furthermore, Jean showed signs of being like me, on the night of her accident. This was kept secret even from David Harrington, who knows nothing about my true nature or anything at all about the Ethereal program within the organization. He hasn’t got that kind of clearance. Neither did you. Not until now.”
Gart stood to his full height and pulled his shoulders back. “Are you in charge of this group of secret immortals?”
“Yes. If you’re willing to watch and learn, I will step outside this protective circle. I cannot wield more than a small amount of magic within it. There are other places like this one, and I will show you how to recognize them. If you’re prepared to learn.”
Gart snarled. “You’re not serious!”
“Gart, please!” Jean begged. “Listen to him. If he’d wanted to hurt us, he’d have done it by now.” She put her hand on his arm. “I’ve already said it once…I think he’s telling the truth. We both need to listen.”
“Jean, you cannot buy into this garbage!” He could no longer pretend he didn’t care about her any more than duty permitted. This was personal now, and on levels he was only beginning to understand. Jean meant more to him than he’d let himself acknowledge. He’d do whatever it took to see her back to safety.
“Only a
year ago, I’d have agreed with you, Gart. I’d have believed that Merlin’s blathering was some kind of hoax. But I’ve seen too much,” Jean insisted. “If I have these powers and can use them to help people, then I have an obligation to do it. We don’t live in a world where everybody gets along. You’ve been through two World Wars. You, more than anybody, should know just how unfriendly this planet has become. I think that’s why Merlin is here. I think he’s trying to help.”
“Listen to her, Garrett Bloodnight. She’s making every kind of bloody good sense!” Merlin urged.
Gart took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “All right. Show me your stuff…Merlin!”
“Very well. If you’re sufficiently calm, pick up your weapon. Do it slowly. Show control and above all…respect. If you don’t, the circle’s powers will body slam you until you do.”
Bristling at a command that’d been relayed as if he were a child, Gart nevertheless heeded the other man’s warning, and slowly picked up his broadsword with his right hand. He let it hang loosely in his grip, by his side. When he stood again, Merlin nodded at him.
“Follow me,” the older man commanded.
Gart was surprised when Jean took up a firm, close position by his right side. She put one hand on the lower part of his back. When he glanced down at her, twilight of the ending day glistened in her eyes. He saw concern there that shook him to the core.
She’d been frightened that he might lose his head. All her concern had apparently been for his sake. He felt waves of warmth and caring wash over him as she touched his back.
To bolster her courage, as well as his own, he hugged her to his side and firmly nodded. Anger over her wandering transgression was quickly replaced with concern and tenderness.
Focus.
This could be some crazy trick. If it was, however, what could be gained from such a display; why would anyone make such an outlandish claim as being the wizard of Camelot?