by Peter David
So what was it? Where was it?
I have not, thought Merlin, lived this long without learning to trust to my instincts.
A movement caught the corner of his eye. One of the waiters had an odd look on his face, a look of great intentness. Merlin pursed his lips. He looked around and saw a half dozen other waiters, all with the same determined expression. No, something was definitely not right.
Merlin quietly slid the ashtray off the table. Miraculously, no one had smoked at his table-the glass of the ashtray was clear. Merlin reached into the pocket of his black jacket-his monkey-suit jacket, he thought grimly-and pulled out a small flask with blue liquid inside.
With one small hand he uncorked it and poured the liquid into the ashtray. It spread rapidly, like a thing alive, coating the surface with blue. Moments later he held the ashtray up to his eye, peering through the blue filter of the liquid.
He gasped as he looked at the waiter nearby.
"And so, ladies and gentlemen, I give to you, Arthur Penn!"
Merlin's head snapped around. Arthur had risen behind the dais and was smiling out at this supporters. Merlin started to stand, to jump and shout to Arthur exactly what was surrounding them. Then he slowly sat again, unsure of how to warn Arthur without setting off a general panic. Or how not to sound insane.
Arthur leaned forward and said, "My friends..."
There was a low moan from his left. He looked around just in time to see Gwen, hand on forehead, eyes closed in a swoon, topple over backward.
"Gwen!" he shouted, and immediately moved to her. At the end of the table a noted attorney asked loudly, "Is there a doctor here?"
Eighteen doctors glanced at their watches and wondered if this might be a good time to leave.
Arthur knelt at Gwen's side, having already dabbed a napkin into a glass of ice water. He dabbed it across her face, saying urgently, "Gwen? Gwen, what's wrong?"
She opened her eyes. He saw no illness in them. Only fear.
"Gwen, what-"
There was a sudden tug at his hip.
He looked around to see a waiter behind him. The man's face was narrow, almost satanic, as with a fierce certainty he grabbed the invisible scabbard that hung at Arthur's side and yanked. There was a rip as the scabbard came free and the waiter leaped back, the invisible prize in his hands.
Arthur completely forgot about Gwen as he leaped toward the waiter, who backpedaled furiously. The entire room was now in an uproar. Everyone was demanding from each other what the hell was going on, and no one knew. Men grabbed for their wives, wives grabbed for their pocketbooks.
The waiter who'd grabbed Excalibur jumped down from the dais and darted past Merlin's table. Hard on his heels came the former King of the Britons.
"Arthur!" shouted Merlin, and he tossed the blue-stained ashtray. Arthur caught it without breaking stride and shoved it in his pocket, not having the faintest idea why Merlin had blessed him with such an odd gift at this particular moment. Just before he was out of earshot, Merlin shouted, "Look through it!"
The half-dozen waiters had regrouped, and as one they ran out the back of the room, through the swinging doors. Arthur was right after them, and right behind them came the TV
camera crews, excited by the thought that what had seemed a standard money-raising dinner had suddenly blossomed into a potential lead item for the eleven o'clock news.
The waiters smashed through the kitchen, the holder of Excalibur in the lead. Cooks were pushed roughly out of the way and kitchen utensils clattered onto the floor. Arthur did not even take the time to mutter "Excuse me" as he shoved past.
There was a rolling cart of dishes off to the right. One of the waiters paused momentarily, grabbed it, and toppled it. A resounding crash rang through the kitchen as miles of dishes spilled out and shattered in Arthur's path. He vaulted, skidding slightly when he alighted but recovering and continuing the pursuit. The camera crews, on the other hand, were not so lucky. They slid headlong into the mess of dirty dishes and leftover food on the previously spotless floor and with a yell went down, one atop the other.
Arthur burst out into the open air of the back alley. It took a moment for his eyes to readjust to the gloom of the night, and then he saw the bright red jackets of the waiters only yards away, dashing down the alley toward the street. Arthur gave chase, shucking his four-hundred-dollar dinner jacket and tossing it aside.
The waiters made it to the sidewalk and then did exactly what Arthur feared they would do-split up. Arthur felt a surge of panic. How was he supposed to follow the one with the invisible sword? Which one had it?
He felt a bulge in his pants pocket and remembered the ashtray. What had Merlin said?
Look through it. He pulled out the ashtray and peered through the blueness.
He made an awful sound deep in his throat. He had spotted the waiter bearing Excalibur immediately-through the blue lens the sword became visible, even though it had not been drawn from its scabbard. But what horrified Arthur was the thing holding it.
It was covered completely with brown scales, its torso elongated so that it was hunched over. Its hands ended in three long, tapering claws. Its head was similar to an alligator's, except the snout was not quite as long. It turned its malevolent green eyes on Arthur and snarled a guttural warning through a double row of pointed teeth. However, it did look snappy in its red waiter's jacket and pressed black slacks.
It turned and faced Arthur, drawing Excalibur from the sheath. Arthur saw his sword glowing dimly in the evening light, and rather than fear, he felt rage that this. . . this thing was soiling his beloved sword with its foul hands.
Passersby who saw only an angry waiter, incensed perhaps because he'd been stiffed on a tip, nevertheless drew back in fright when they saw the immense sword he wielded.
Arthur approached cautiously, arms spread out, legs flexed, never taking his eyes from his opponent. He growled low in his throat as he inched closer and closer to the demon. Cars slammed to a halt on nearby Forty-seventh. Two small children, who lived in an apartment above a deli that had closed for the night, leaned out their window and watched in fascination.
The demon swung Excalibur in an arc and hissed, "Morgan Le Fey sends her regards, King of Nothing!" The demon slashed Excalibur down and Arthur dove to one side, rolling and quickly getting to his feet. The demon closed on him, swinging the blade back and forth.
It whizzed through the air like an angry hornet, and Arthur could do nothing except stay the hell out of the way. He stumbled once and the demon almost caught him flatfooted. The demon swung Excalibur around, and Arthur leaped out of its path. The blade sliced through a parking meter, cutting it neatly in half at the middle of the pole.
Arthur backed up, looking around desperately for something to intervene. He heard a police car's siren, but it was a long way off, and besides, there was a chance that police would not be able to aid him against this nightmare creature.
"Afraid, Arthur?" crowed the demon. "You have a good head on your shoulders. Let's see if you can keep it there."
Arthur retreated farther, thankful at least that the bystanders had had the good sense to get away. Then his retreat was momentarily halted as he bumped into a large iron object behind him. His questing fingers immediately informed him he'd run up against a fire hydrant.
The demon was barely a yard away, and this time Arthur didn't flinch. "All right, you bastard," he snarled. "Give it your best shot."
With unearthly glee the demon brought Excalibur back over its head and then brought the blade swinging downward.
Arthur waited until the last possible instant, waited until the weight of Excalibur would make the sword's trajectory unalterable. And when it was bare inches from the top of his head, Arthur sprang catlike to one side. Excalibur sliced deep into the fire hydrant.
In a rage the demon yanked Excalibur to one side. The blade effortlessly cut through the rest of the hydrant, and with a sudden gush water blew forth from the broken hydrant. It sp
rayed upward and sideways. The demon was caught in the face and chest by the full impact of the water. With a howl it went down, clawing at the clean water that to the demon was like acid.
Excalibur flew from its grasp and clattered to the ground.
Arthur was on the sword in an instant, and within the next was upon the demon. He held the sword at the creature's neck and snarled, "Give Morgan my thanks... should you see her on the way to hell."
Then he drew Excalibur back and rammed the point through the inhuman thing's throat. Its angry howl of anguish was cut short, and it clawed at the blade even as the life fled from it.
A hole appeared in the demon's chest. Arthur looked down in surprise as a small creature darted forth from the already disintegrating body of the demon. It flittered this way and that, leaving a trail of flame behind it. Arthur stared at it in wonder and muttered, "A fire elemental.
Upon my sword, I thought I'd seen the last of--"
The elemental gingerly danced around the water droplets which sprayed from the fountain.
Then it caught sight of Arthur, and it flared in alarm and anger. Arthur frowned, suddenly aware that this small creature intended no good at all. He yanked Excalibur from the demon's throat and in one smooth movement sliced upward at the fire creature. The little ball of flame avoided him, spun around his head so close that it singed his eyebrows, then headed straight for the building that housed the closed deli.
"No!" shouted Arthur, but it was too late. The elemental hit the building at full steam. There was a loud fwoosh, and it was as if the two-story building had been firebombed. The downstairs windows exploded as fire leaped out from them, illuminating the street in a nightmarish glow of orange. Smoke poured out from the shattered windows, both downstairs and upstairs.
And as Arthur's gaze took in the second floor, he was horrified to see two children in one of the windows. Moments ago they had been witnesses to Arthur's struggle with the demon.
Now their eyes were riveted elsewhere-behind them, as they saw the room they were in engulfed in flame. The air crackled, became acrid with the biting sting of the smoke. The children screamed.
The police car was pulling up, but how long now before a fire truck could be summoned?
And, Arthur looked around the area in horror, what would they hook up to? The hydrant had been slashed in half, thanks to his brilliant tactic.
Without hesitation Arthur stepped into the stream of water that gushed from the hydrant. The water soaked his clothes, his body, his hair. He glanced over to where the demon lay, and was pleased to see nothing but a small pile of soot where the creature had once been. That was convenient-he hadn't relished the thought of explaining the presence of a recently slain corpse to the authorities.
Arthur stepped out of the water, then, grabbed up Excalibur's scabbard, and slid the weapon back into his sheath, buckling the now-unseeable blade back onto his belt even as he raced toward the burning building.
The TV crews arrived just as the police cars did. Seeing the fire, the newsmen automatically trained their minicams on the blaze. It took them a few seconds to realize that there were children trapped inside, and even a few seconds more before they saw that the would-be next mayor of New York was risking his life in a mad dash into the inferno.
Arthur took one glance upward, saw that the children were hysterical, saw that there was no way he was going to be able to talk them into trying to jump down. However, he did not relish the idea of entering the building-the intensity of the heat was almost overwhelming.
Then, as he studied the wall, he had an idea. He removed his shoes and began to scale the side of the building.
It was easier than he'd dared hope. The building front was brick, and the windows and doors had been built with so many outcroppings that it had been practically designed for handholds. From the corner of his eye Arthur saw that residents of the buildings to either side were clearing out, and he was thankful for that.
He went higher, higher. Flame flared out from the window beneath him, licking at his pants cuff, and he had to reach down to pat it out. The wall was heating up under his touch. In moments it would be too hot for him to hold on. Bracing himself, he thrust himself higher, and his desperate reach grabbed the outcropping of a narrow ledge. It was all that he needed to pull himself up and away from the window. He scrabbled apelike (and he thought for a moment of Gwen's reference to a monkey suit-how right she had been) with his hands holding the ledge and his feet braced on the wall directly below.
He heard the sound of the children before he saw them. Hundreds of sparks flew at him and dissipated on the fabric of his wet clothing. He thanked his common sense for the move he'd made earlier for protection, or otherwise he'd have had a lot more to worry about than that one singed pants cuff.
He looked up through the smoke at the crying children.
"Hold on," he called. 'Til be right there!" His heart pumping furiously, Arthur pulled himself up so that his face was right even with the bottom of the window. He saw the frightened, smoke-smeared faces of the children, and it was all the incentive he needed to hoist himself upward and into the room with them.
The features of both of them were obscured by soot, but they clutched at his legs and cried hysterically for their parents.
Arthur scooped up the two children, one in each arm. The little boy, despite his fright, still took the opportunity to stroke Arthur's beard in wonderment. "Are you Santa Claus?" he sniffled out.
Arthur climbed up into the frame of the window, balanced there for a moment, and reviewed his options. The review came to an abrupt end when the ceiling behind him started to collapse and flames leaped at the three people. Breathing a silent prayer, Arthur Pendragon hurled himself and the children to the ground below.
The children shrieked into his ears, almost shattering his concentration. The ground arrived with dizzying speed as Arthur landed on his feet. Pain stabbed up through his legs, and he rolled, bringing the children in close to his chest and taking the impact on his shoulder. In the window where he'd just been, a ball of flame roared out, as if the fire were angry that he'd escaped and was venting its fury.
Arthur rolled off the curbside and into the street, even as police officers pushed through the crowds of people starting to ring them. Now there were more sirens coming-fire engines and ambulances. Two policemen wrestled momentarily with the TV cameras, who also wanted to push through the crowd to get close-ups. "Move it or lose it!" snapped one of the cops, and the cameramen chose to move it.
Arthur lay in the center of the circle, moaning softly but sitting up, massaging his bruised shoulders. The children stood on either side, no longer crying, almost forgetting Arthur completely as they watched their home burn.
"Wow," murmured the little girl, "when Mommy and Daddy come back from the movie, they're gonna be mad."
"Would you tell them we didn't start it, mister?" said the boy.
Arthur forced a smile. "Certainly. Right after I give them a long talk about leaving children without baby-sitters.'*
"If we'd have had a baby-sitter, you'd have had to rescue her too."
Arthur stared at the boy. "You have a point," he admitted.
The cops broke through to the center. "Okay, no one move. You're all gonna be all right, an ambulance is on its way!"
"Ambulance?" said Arthur.
"To take you to the hospital. Geez, mister, you shouldn't try stunts like that," said the cop, a young blond-haired rookie. "You should wait for the fire trucks to show up."
And as the fire trucks rounded the corner, the roof of the building collapsed in on itself with a heart-rending crash. Arthur looked up at the officer and said, with as little sarcasm as he could manage, "I'll remember that next time. I can't go to the hospital-I have a speech to make. People will be disappointed____"
He started to get to his feet, and immediately pain shot through his right leg. He crumbled, cursing, and muttered under his breath, "I'm getting a few centuries too old for this sort of
thing."
"Arthur!"
He turned and saw Gwen shoving her way through the crowd. "Oh, thank the Lord, Gwen. It's good to see you." He winced as he touched his leg. "Help me get back to the hall. People paid good money to hear me babble about some nonsense or other____"
An ambulance had pulled up, and paramedics were already leaping out of the back. "Arthur, don't be crazy!" Gwen was saying. She shouted to the paramedics, "Over here!"
The paramedics turned in their direction, but Arthur gestured toward the two frightened children. The paramedics nodded their understanding and headed over to the youngsters.
Arthur lay his head back in Gwen's lap. "I'll wait for the next one. Gwen, where's Merlin?"
There was a pause, and Arthur looked up into Gwen's eyes. "Gwen?"
She turned away. Arthur sat upright and his voice was harsh. "Gwen! Where the hell is Merlin?"
It had happened with incredible swiftness. Merlin watched, uncertain of what he should do, as Arthur dashed out the door after the creatures who had stolen Excalibur. He looked back at the dais, saw that Gwen was on her feet, and frowned. That was damned quick recovery for someone who had fainted dead away. And the expression on her face-it looked like the expression of a woman who had just done something frightful beyond imagining.
Merlin started toward her, questions forming on his lips, when someone blocked the way.
The young wizard glanced up. It was another waiter, with a very unpleasant look. Merlin stepped back, but the waiter drew back his fist and sent a roundhouse punch sailing toward Merlin's chin. Merlin went down as if he'd been poleaxed, the floor spinning around him. He tried to stagger to his feet even as the waiter/demon grabbed up a chair and brought it slamming down on the magician's head. Stars exploded in Merlin's skull and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Everyone from Merlin's table had already moved away, and so did not see the incident. But Percy saw, and he leaped over the head table, shouting, "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? Put him down, right now!"
He closed in on the demon, but the monster swept its arm around, knocking Percy back like a rag doll. Percy fell over the table, knocking over the centerpiece and catching up the tablecloth. He hit the ground and lay still.