The Mage Returns

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The Mage Returns Page 15

by Christina D Stewart


  Ross had never heard Merlin's voice this soft or dangerous before in their limited time together. Merlin simply said, "Anybody else?" and turned forty-five degrees to stare directly up to the highest seats in the forum.

  The entire forum remained silent, motionless, and breathless.

  A strong voice from the highest row rang through the forum, "Merlin."

  Every eye turned to see who was fool enough, or brave and strong enough to bring a dispute to this place.

  Merlin merely said, "Brother," in a voice that grated out from a rusted iron vault. He sounded as if he was deliberately holding back the fury that came along with the word "Brother". Some of the lesser fae put their hands over the ears and cowered where they sat. There was too much painful power contained in the word for them to handle. There was a general shuffling away from the new speaker and the direct line between him and Merlin.

  Ross noted Merlin's different-sounding voice but he, as a human, was oblivious to the forces that created or would come from this conversation.

  "I wanted you to fully understand I'm here on the Truthteller's general amnesty granted all who come to this meetin, and understand I am taking advantage of that amnesty and bind you to it," said his brother.

  "I am so bound, my brother," agreed Merlin. "Do you have anything else you need to say?"

  "No, brother from another mother," said the speaker. "Our time is not yet come."

  "You'll let me know when you're ready for that time to come, won't you?" said Merlin and the angry sarcasm dripped off every word so thickly it was evident even to Ross.

  Merlin's brother disappeared and all eyes turned back to Merlin.

  Merlin pounded his staff three times on the platform and three times thunder rolled out and across the width and breadth of Scotland. The forum was deadly silent, and not a single fae moved as much as an eyelash. Humans across the country looked around for the dark clouds and rain and saw none.

  "I am Myrddin. This is my island," announced Merlin to the forum in a voice that spoke of darkness and sorrow far beyond their understanding. Not one of the assembled fae twitched a single muscle or dared blink. The black silence sunk into every pore of their consciousness to echo for what seemed to be an eternity of fear.

  That was the last thing that Ross remembered until he woke up the next morning in his hotel bedroom with the night's memories intact and a paralyzing, blinding migraine. Merlin's last words to him reverberated around inside his throbbing skull, "Mr. Ross are you seeking something or fleeing something?"

  Ross's Decision

  Ross rose the next morning and consumed two extra cups of tea. The extra caffeine hardly made a dent in stopping whoever was living in his head from practicing his bass drum lessons. The pain pulsed - a second of intense pain then a second of relief - making it easy to decide he could feel his pulse pounding in his eyes no matter whether they were open or closed.

  The headache didn't lessen but he recalled last night's meeting and the resulting big bang of Merlin unleashing some of his power. From the careless way he'd tossed that lightning bolt or whatever it was to disintegrate the black-robed being and the look on his face afterwards, Ross decided this wasn't the first time Merlin had been challenged by another fae. As for Merlin's brother and the resulting wave of darkness and depression that washed over him during their conversation, he had no answer.

  I've got more questions than answers he decided. And how do I tell Mr. Smithers about this adventure? Not to worry, I'll show him the videos.

  Ten minutes later Ross realized his camera hadn't taken a single frame or video. He remembered turning it on but not turning it off. Great! He thought. Good time for a malfunction. What do I say to Smithers? How about the truth? I could tell him he and the civil service didn't have a clue what was really going on up here. But here I am... And if my head is any indication, we're well launched today toward the worst of times.

  He waited until precisely ten minutes past nine to finish dialing Smithers' number. Waited for four rings before Smithers picked up the line. "Officer Ross, glad you called. How was last night?"

  "It was "interesting", Sir," said Ross, "With an emphasis on 'interesting.'"

  "Really, how?" asked Smithers.

  "Well, where should I start? Merlin killed another fae of some kind - hard to tell because he was wearing a long, black robe with a hood - or rather the individual seemed to explode with quite a bang when Merlin pointed his finger at him. There were hundreds of fae there, of all shapes and sizes,"said Ross.

  Ross paused for a second but his head wasn't in any condition for games today. "The body cam went dark. It wasn't working so I have no video for you. I will say that's quite a rough crowd. I'm expecting Merlin to contact me later or I'll find him and will continue to work at gaining his confidence."

  "Would the fae have disabled it?" asked Smithers. "The question I'm really really asking if the fae have the technological capability to alter or disable our equipment"?

  "Don't know, Sir. I thought it was turned on last night but whether it was activated or whether the fae stopped it is irrelevant. There's no video," said Ross.

  "How are you feeling about the undercover work, Officer Ross?" asked Smithers.

  Ross heard the real question in his supervisor's words and replied, "I'm fine, Sir. I do have a splitting headache. But after watching how little killing one of their own seems to bother these fae and after watching Merlin kill someone with a flick of his wrist like I'd swat a fly, I have no trouble working within our mandate to stop them, Sir."

  "Excellent, Officer Ross," said Smithers. "Stay there, make contact again and keep me informed."

  "Yes, Sir," said Ross and then he heard the line disconnect. "Yes, Sir," he repeated.

  Ross took a deep breath and remembered the tone of voice Merlin used with his brother and wondered what that had all been about.

  Merlin's Response

  Merlin wondered if he'd ever get tired of walking the streets of Aberdeen and spending time in the various parks scattered throughout the city. It was a far better city than his memory had led him to believe and he understood how he might fall in love with it. If only…

  His staff picked up on the concern and interrupted to ask whether they could simply drop in now and then rather than be here in the city every hour of every day. The staff pointed out that Merlin wasn't to be the everyday teacher for the foursome, in fact he had no official role at all in this iteration of the quest. Rather than being central to the King and Court, he was just an old man wandering the streets.

  "Well, you're optimistic today, aren't you?" said Merlin in response to the staff's bleak assessment of his role. He stopped for a moment to absorb the staff's response. "Well, yes, you are technically correct but there's a great deal I can do without a formal role you know. And I do have some options with a formal role as you well know." A second later, he continued, "No, I don't have any better ideas than those you've just read out of my mind. And if you keep doing that kind of mind-reading game all the time, I will become cross with you."

  Merlin would have sounded quite psychotic - having a conversation with himself that resembled an old bickering couple - had anyone been within earshot. But it passed unnoticed as Merlin walked along the boardwalk on this rainy, dreary morning.

  Merlin cocked his head as he listened to the next series of questions. A scowl appeared on his face and a faint sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. "No, I'm not annoyed with you. It's a legitimate question. And no, I have no idea what I'm going to do about the damnable mutual attraction between Gwen and Lawrence and the almost negligible attraction coming from Arthur. They have another few years or so left before any decisions have to be made and there's a great deal of water to flow down those two rivers over there," Merlin waved his hand casually behind him and continued, "before the patterns are set and the results tumble out in ways that will keep both humans and fae alive."

  The two kept a companionable silence for a few hundred yards al
ong the boardwalk and watched as the tide went out leaving some creatures and plants high and dry for the gulls to savage.

  "You recognized Vivien, didn't you?" asked Merlin. In response to the staff's response, Merlin spat out the words, "Yes. She's back and making yet another end run on us. You'd have thought the Lady would have grown tired of all the games. All we need is another Mordred - no matter who bears him - and life could get even more complicated. She should know the stakes and I have no idea what game she's playing now." He glowered at a seagull that hovered overhead looking for an easy handout. The gull quickly tipped its wings to soar higher and away from Merlin.

  "Plan? Who has a plan?" asked Merlin. "My best guess is I'll work behind the scenes to send experiences to all of them to mold them into decent human beings. If that can happen and if they can adjust to their roles then we may come out fine this time. But everything is different - as you so kindly and helpfully pointed out a few minutes ago. So no, I have no idea what I'm doing or where this has to go. And no, that does not make many of the fae happy. But we've never walked the path of making them happy in any case, have we?" Merlin ended his rant with a snort. He stopped and looked out over the calm sea with its shades of dark blue and green at the water's edge and pale blue, almost white sky at the horizon.

  Two extremes he thought. I have to deal with the extremes between our concrete world and the spiritual realm. Both extremes will need centering and will require my attention for ensuring all of these young people make it through safely. He stopped and considered the question, "How many do I really need to make it through?" With a frown, he realized even this basic question and traditional answer were no longer valid. What a screwed-up world, he thought. A screwed-up world indeed.

  He shoved his hands deeply into his jeans pocket, pulled the collar on his faded, scuffed leather jacket up against a freshening sea breeze and trudged down the boardwalk in the direction of the nearest coffee shop.

  Merlin Ross Talk

  “So you survived last night, did you?" said Merlin. His tone of voice and smile indicated he knew of Ross's headache. "Humans sometimes get headaches after being exposed to that much fae power. How's yours this morning Mr. Ross?" asked Merlin.

  Ross knew there was little point in lying or trying to hide his discomfort. After all, his eyes were barely able to focus in spite of the sunglasses he was wearing. His head continued to pound even in the darker, back section of the coffee shop.

  His voice was shaky and weak, "There's a brass band up there with a rather large cymbal player intent of keeping beat with my heart. But other than that, I'm fine," he said, and waved his hand vaguely pointing to his head.

  Merlin's laugh was soft, but full of deep bass notes, and it came from that place deep within himself that didn't contain much humour. He didn't sound amused.

  "Let me help," Merlin said as he reached out and touched Ross's left hand with his cane. Ross's right hand would have been preferred but it was wrapped in a death grip around a mug of tea.

  Ross's eyes opened wide and his face muscles relaxed as the pain disappeared. "You should patent that!" he said.

  "You're welcome," said Merlin. He smiled softly and almost sadly. As soon as Merlin's staff touched the young man, he'd have few if any secrets from the staff and by extension, Merlin. From his simple whereabouts to his most intimate moments, all would be plainly seen and recorded by the staff. Merlin reminded himself this was a battle he was involved with and not some tea party. And in this battle, all the advantages seemed to be with the humans. Merlin sensed this young man was, and would be, intimately involved in this quest for some time to come. Any advantage the fae world could gather was fair game as far as Merlin was concerned.

  "What did you learn last night?" asked Merlin.

  Ross thought for a second. Had he taken more time with his response he might have learned more but the sudden relief of losing that pounding headache had also removed his sense of caution.

  "Was that really your brother?" he asked.

  Merlin's face tightened momentarily but Ross wasn't yet functioning enough to notice. "He's not my biological brother but he might as well be. We were very close at one time but that time is over."

  "What happened?" asked Ross, blundering into a topic that no fae in its right mind would even begin to broach.

  Merlin thought about this question for what seemed like an eternity to the rapidly rehydrating Ross. "You know the concept of apex predator?" asked Merlin.

  Ross nodded slightly.

  "I'm the oldest living fae and I am the most powerful among us. I may tell you that story one day but let's just say my brother isn't happy with that arrangement." Merlin's voice had a trace of the dark from the previous evening and Ross remembered the depression he'd felt hearing it for the first time. He nodded imperceptibly at Merlin. Merlin nodded in return and a truce was established.

  "So what's next?" asked Ross.

  Merlin laughed softly, "Officer Ross, do you think I'm going to share my plans with you? Seriously?"

  "Well, you can't blame me for trying?" said Ross.

  Merlin thought about it for a few moments and then said, "It depends on why you're asking. Are you curious or are you planning on sharing them with your superiors?"

  "I'm curious. But you don't have to tell me if you don't trust me. After all, you have no reason to trust me yet," said Ross. "That day may come. Or not. But it will be your decision and I won't ask again. You can tell me what you think I need to know," said Ross.

  He knew he couldn't force a man such as Mervin or Merlin or whatever he needed to be called to do anything, so he backed off. He knew he'd hang about in the hopes of being useful or gaining some trust or whatever it would take to ensure humanity would come out on top of any conflict.

  And as that thought settled into his consciousness, a wave of sadness rolled over top of him. He was fighting against the fairies and his daughter Marianne would be terribly disappointed if she found out.

  Ross Gives Report

  Back in London, Officer Ross sat directly across from Director Campbell. He'd been directed to the padded chair while Smithers had the plain wooden chair. Ross glanced at the other plain, unpadded chair and decided if he was ever directed to that one, the one the rest of the staff called the "duck-now-chair" first, he'd know it was time to start job-hunting.

  "Director Campbell, it would seem I'm not entirely trusted but I'm not banished yet either, so I'm counting this as a win," said Ross.

  "Apparently I've passed whatever Merlin has decided is the test. Or, and this is the part that bothers me, I may simply be the person he knows and if he shuts me down, another will only arrive to try again to get next to him. More like a 'devil you know rather than the one you don't' kind of thing I suspect. But he plays things so close to his chest, I can't tell whether he's trusting me a bit, holding me close, or a bit of both."

  Ross took a breath and thought about whether he should pass the next bit of information along. His training won out and he said, "One thing I think is significant is that Merlin is the oldest and most powerful fae. Period. He's apparently the one true leader that everybody obeys and looks up to. I suspect they either fear him or love him. I suspect there's little middle ground here to play with."

  "Can you make contact with any other fae, form relationships there and go around this Merlin?" asked Campbell.

  "Sir, I haven't seen or been aware of any other fae outside of that one evening. So while they may be there, either they haven't contacted me or they can't access the human side of the world. I just don't have enough information yet on them," said Ross. "Sir, it seems that fae interact with us all the time but we don't see them. Merlin described the side effect of a fae fight or magic as humans getting a heart attack or into an accident. We blame accidents on ourselves or the weather but according to him, a large number are the by-product of fae magic aimed poorly or when we wandered into the wrong spot where magic is being done."

  "That's a creepy feeling. You're t
elling me some fairy could be in this office right now, create a spell and if I stood up at the wrong time, I could have a heart attack," said Campbell.

  "I think that's the basic story, yes, Sir," said Ross. "But, I think it's more complicated than that. Some of the fae have the power to penetrate between our world and theirs but I don't think those are very common. It's the more powerful and far less numerous ones that can really hurt us. The minor ones can only influence our mood. You may find yourself singing on a sunny day…"

  "I never sing on a sunny day," said Campbell.

  Ross looked at him, and said, "Or, you may be sad and not know it."

  "Creepy damn things," said Campbell.

  "Yes, Sir, it is a strange feeling, particularly when you're with Merlin and you know the rest of the fae community is hanging on his every world and action," said Ross. "But you can't see, hear or feel them."

  "Anything else you think Mr. Smithers and I should know," asked Campbell.

  "Nothing at the moment, Sir. I've reached some level of discussion with this Merlin, but he initiates everything and I have no way to contact him," said Ross. "I don't have a signal light in the sky kind of thing or a number to call. I really don't know how to contact him. And before you ask, that's what I'll work on next. Getting him to give me some way of contacting him."

  Campbell nodded and sat quietly ten seconds staring at the young officer. He then nodded and said, "Good work, Officer Ross. Keep it up and let me know immediately when you're contacted next."

  "Yes, Sir," said Ross quickly. Recognizing the dismissal, Ross stood up, straightened up as if to salute the Director, thought better of it and turned and marched out of the office. He noted Smithers remained sitting.

 

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