“Hadyn gave me her corpse,” Merlin growled menacingly. “He promised to return her to me. It was the bargain he agreed to if I doubled his lands and fortified this very castle. But how was I to guess that the man would dare cheat me so gravely while still maintaining the letter of his bargain?”
“He gave you a corpse,” Slytherin said sorrowfully. “But you might have known it was not hers. The body was spoiled beyond recognition, but you were the great Merlin. You could have divined the truth had you tried. But you chose not to.”
“She was to have been my wife,” Merlin said, and his voice was like distant thunder. It rumbled the floor beneath James’ feet. “I could not bear it. I could not bear even to look at that decimated body.”
“And Hadyn knew such would be the case. Otherwise, how could he have dared attempt such obvious trickery? He knew you would be too stricken to verify the body was truly your Judith. And finally, when you planned your revenge, when you tracked his coach through the forest, you could have divined the truth even then. You could have used the birds and the trees to look into the coach, to assure yourself of who was inside, but you didn’t. Your rage, fuelled by your love for the poor Muggle woman, blinded you, didn’t it? If you had but looked, you could have known the truth. You could have saved her. For, as everyone now knows, Lord Hadyn loved Judith as well. He claimed her as his own, and she allowed him to. He gave you the body of a dead servant woman and kept Judith for himself. She betrayed you.”
“She had no choice!” Merlin cried, his voice cracking.
“There’s always a choice,” Slytherin insisted. “She could have died for your love, couldn’t she? But no, she chose to be with him instead. She chose to be with him that very day, in his coach.”
“She was only human! She believed I would come for her!”
“She was only human,” Slytherin agreed. “A flawed, weak, unmagicked human, despite your own pathetic attempts to teach her the arts. And then, in the name of your love-blind revenge, she was a dead human. Lost, along with her new husband, Hadyn, in a mysteriously tragic coach accident. Drowned, wasn’t it? They say the storm came up with the force of Jupiter himself, washing the coach right off the bridge. It was carried quite some way, they say, and smashed to sticks. Along with every… person… inside.”
“I will NOT speak of such THINGS WITH YOU!” Merlin suddenly roared, shaking the very walls. There was a flash of angry light as every candle and every flame in the fireplace suddenly exploded into a blue torch. The flame on the red candle in the laboratory erupted upwards, brightly illuminating the room for one terrifying moment. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, the moment passed. The room plunged back into darkness.
In the silence that followed, Slytherin’s voice was quiet and silky. “Forgive me, my friend. I’ve decided it is my duty to remind you of what was taken from you, and who took it. I warned you not to trust the Muggles. They are beasts, incapable of nobility. Their only role is servitude. We are their masters. It is not only our right to rule them; it is our duty. For their sake as well as ours.”
“You are a lying snake, Salazar Slytherin,” Merlin seethed.
“Snake I may be,” Slytherin chuckled, “but liar I am not. You are here because you agree with me, although your foolish conscience bids you not to admit it.”
Merlin said, “In fact, I am only here because you have something I need.”
Slytherin sighed. “Yes, I know. I have already spoken to your apprentice, Austramaddux, and for once, I agree with him. Your plan is for the best. This world is no longer yours, Merlinus. The kingdoms advance their civilizations. They parse the land and plow it; they tear down the forests and turn them into hovels. They are taming the earth, rendering it mute to you. I alone know what that does to your powers, for you are unlike other wizards, my friend. You are not a wizard at all. You are a sorcerer, perhaps the very last and best of your kind. I am glad you have accepted my suggestion to step out of this plane of existence. You will return to a better time. Austramaddux will watch for it.”
“There may never again be such a time,” Merlin said gravely. “But it matters not. You are right about one thing: this world is no longer fit for me, nor I for it. The days are darkened before my very eyes, and by my own bloody hands. I have chosen to remove myself from the realm of men, but for my own reasons, Slytherin. You would not understand them. Your heart is as dark as pitch.”
“And yet it is of something dark that you’ve come to speak, my friend,” Slytherin replied without missing a beat. “I have divined it. The stone knows when it is wanted.”
“Don’t mock me, Slytherin. I know you desire me to break the boundary of worlds without the stone, for you would then control that which returned with me.”
“You speak of the legend of the Gatekeeper’s Curse? You mustn’t take such things seriously. My, what dreams and fancies idle men imagine, don’t they?”
“I am not fooled by your guile. You have the stone, and the Darkbag, for you are a lover of such dark trinkets. If I am to do what no other man on this world is capable of doing, I will do it with the tools no other man on this world could possibly need.”
“Tell me, Merlinus,” Slytherin said conversationally, “what do you know of these ‘trinkets’?”
“As if the stories of them were not plain enough for a child,” Merlin sighed. “The Darkbag contains the last remnant of pure nothingness left from the dawn of time. Its uses are myriad and unique. The stone, however, is the only relic from pre-time. It is a single black onyx, whose origin is the Void between the worlds. It is immune to time; thus, it is the Beacon of the Gatekeeper. The holder of the stone may be granted visions of those who’ve passed unto death. But more importantly, he who possesses the stone is the Gatekeeper’s Ambassador, should that creature ever cross into the realm of men.”
“Surely you do not believe in such things,” Slytherin teased, and yet James could tell that Slytherin himself believed them fully.
“I believe that none have ever dared to test the legends,” Merlin stated flatly. “But that is only because none have ever been capable of it. It is pure speculation that he who breaks the boundary between the worlds for any length of time will attract the Gatekeeper of the Void, possibly bringing it back with him. If I do it, and if I return, I wish to be the charge of anything that returns with me.”
“But why?” Slytherin suddenly rasped, his voice eager and dripping with hate. “Let the Destroyer be loosed upon the earth! If man is the scourge of this world, reducing your power bit by bit, eating it up like locusts, then let the Gatekeeper be descended upon them! It is their due! If my prediction is accurate, then the realm of the wizards will have overcome the Muggles by that day. The magical kingdom will be able to defend itself against the Gatekeeper, and possibly even ally with it! Only the Muggle insects and the impure will be destroyed by its hand, and good riddance! The legend says that the Curse of the Gatekeeper will hearken a new age! An age of purity, of crystalline perfection! So let it be, Merlinus! Be the harbinger of the Curse! What more fitting way to reclaim your title as king of all wizards?”
“If I am to be the harbinger of the Curse, I wish to control it,” Merlin replied calmly.
“I would have it no other way,” Slytherin answered. “Without the Beacon Stone, you might not even gain the attention of the Gatekeeper. However…”
Merlin waited silently, but James, still sitting in the dark of the laboratory, could sense the great wizard simmering, his rage all but smoking off his skin.
Slytherin went on. “The stone is far too powerful to be removed from the earth entirely. Knowing this day might come, however, I have arranged for it to be split into two equal pieces. The halves have been set into two rings. One ring will go with you; the other will stay with me.”
“You cannot deceive me, Slytherin,” Merlin rumbled. “You wish to maintain control of the Gatekeeper upon hope of its descent. You wish to use it to exact revenge upon your enemies. You and they wil
l be long dead by that time.”
Slytherin laughed lightly. “It isn’t of any consequence to you, my friend. My half of the stone will remain, regardless of my own short time upon this earth. It will be passed on. When and if you do return, signaling the descent of the Curse, the stone will find its way into the hands of my descendents. I merely wish for them to be prepared. It is only fair, don’t you agree? Besides,” Slytherin went on, his voice dropping, “if you do decide to abandon your course and thwart the Gatekeeper, well, are you not Merlinus the Terrible, the last of the line of Myrddred? Are you not the greatest sorcerer of all the ages? Surely, such a creature as you does not require the use of a mere ‘dark trinket’.”
Merlin was silent again, and James sensed him simmering. Finally, he said, “As you wish, Slytherin. Provide me my half of the stone and I will take my leave of this place.”
There came the sound of a drawer opening, and then the clunk of a small box. A long silence followed.
“I could simply take both halves of the stone from you, my ‘friend’,” Merlin said quietly. “After all, am I not Merlinus the Terrible?”
“You forget the conditions of your lamentable bargain with Hadyn,” Slytherin replied. There was the clunk of a box closing. “You are unable to touch the hair of anyone residing within this castle. Your threats are formidable, but fortunately, they are to no effect here. I do, however, appreciate the sentiment of it. You may consider it returned.”
The floor creaked as Merlin stood. James saw the shadows change in the room as Merlin prepared to leave. A figure suddenly blocked the view through the opening in the double doors. It was Slytherin. He opened the doors slightly and peered in at James. A thoughtful look crossed his face. His eyes narrowed.
“And by the way, Merlinus,” he said, not taking his eyes off of James, “if you do return in a future age, beware of enemies. Your disappearance will certainly be legend. Some will be looking for you, and not all will intend to welcome you.”
“I am quite accustomed to dealing with enemies,” Merlin’s voice replied, echoing from the depths of the room beyond.
“Nevertheless, if you should come across a certain young man… brown-eyed, with short, unkempt raven hair and a look of constant insolence, beware of him. He is your enemy. I have divined it. You must dispose of him.”
“I dispose of no one without just cause,” Merlin growled. “Regardless of your divinations. And even those who deserve such disposal occasionally slip through my grasp.”
“Whereas some who don’t deserve it still fall under its judgment,” Slytherin declared coldly, as if twisting a knife. “But suit yourself, Merlinus. Watch for the boy. Or ignore him at your peril. I care not which.”
A moment later, there came a burst of warm air and a smell of dirt and growing things. Merlin was gone. Slytherin bared his teeth at James.
“You said history had gotten it right about me,” he said, grinning viciously. “Somehow, I don’t believe history will even know your name, my young friend.”
11. THE CIRCLE OF NINE
With a deft flourish, Slytherin threw a black cloth over the oval mirror on the easel. James cringed, fearing he’d vanish the moment his reflection was hidden. Slytherin gave him a disdainful look.
“Obviously, the mirror would be useless as a prison if the inmate could not be released by the jailor, you fool,” he said. “Had you attempted it yourself, your fears would have come true, but if the mirror is covered by someone else, you are safe. You see? Even now, I am the consummate teacher, and you the reluctant pupil. Come to me, my friend.”
James shook his head, pressing his lips together stubbornly.
Slytherin sighed wearily. “I’m not going to hurt you, boy. I merely require you to stand with me so that we may Disapparate together.”
“You can’t Disapparate inside Hogwarts,” James replied. “Everybody knows that.”
“I don’t know who this ‘everybody’ is that you speak of, but I am beginning to suspect that the Hogwarts you believe you know is not the Hogwarts we currently occupy. Now come here.”
James tightened his grip on the arms of the ladder-back chair. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You wish to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding, do you not?” Slytherin asked. “We both want the same thing, my young friend. Now come.”
As Slytherin said the last word, he flicked his wand. The ladder-back chair leapt off the floor, taking James with it. It soared toward Slytherin, and then dumped James onto the floor in front of him. James scrambled to his feet, staring angrily up at the bald wizard.
“Why don’t you just Imperio me, you big bully?” James spat.
“That is an Unforgivable Curse,” Slytherin said, tilting his head in mock dismay. “I am a teacher at this fine establishment. As such, I obey the law of the land. I may not always agree with those laws, but nonetheless…”
Slytherin held out his hand.
James stared at it, frowning furiously. He knew that if he didn’t obey Slytherin, the man would just force him to comply somehow. Something inside James determined that he’d rather walk into whatever awaited him than be carried to it. With that, he looked up into the wizard’s cold eyes, and then took the proffered hand.
There was a sudden, dizzying sense of speed and darkness. The floor seemed to fall away from James’ feet. A split second later, another surface materialized beneath him. James stumbled on it, and Slytherin let him go with a shove, driving him to his knees.
“No Disapparition,” Slytherin said scornfully, stalking away. “No useful spells, no understanding of cunning or resourcefulness. I know not where you come from or who you are, my young friend, but whoever sent you must have been truly desperate.”
James collected himself and stood, struggling with a sort of residual dizziness. Wherever Slytherin had taken him, it was very dark and cool. Wind blew fretfully, pushing a rafter of clouds overhead. The moon seemed unusually close. Its frosty glow illuminated the round, recessed floor of this strange place. James glanced around. The space was circular, with stone terraces leading down to a central wooden floor. On either side of this, two marble thrones faced each other. James’ heart sank. He’d been here once before, in his own time.
“You seem to know much about us,” Slytherin said, raising his voice over the moan of the wind. “Therefore, you must know the purpose of the Sylvven Tower. Its height, they say, places it outside the realm of the laws of men. Here, there is no such thing as an Unforgivable Curse. Here, my young friend, anything can happen.”
As if to emphasize Slytherin’s point, there was a sudden hiss and swirl of black smoke. It seemed to stream onto the tower, coalescing on a point to Slytherin’s right. It formed the shape of a man in a black cloak. He was hoodless, with sharp features and cruel eyes. Slytherin smiled, not taking his gaze from James. More swirls appeared, hissing into shape, forming figures all around the circumference of the tower’s top terrace. Every figure wore a black cloak, their heads uncovered. Each newcomer turned to look at James, their faces cold and calculating.
“Meet my Circle of Nine!” Slytherin cried, throwing his arms wide. “Fellow wizards who, like myself, recognize the inevitable future of the magical world, and who join me in fomenting it. Consider yourself honored to witness this, boy, for few alive know of us, or could guess at the counsels we keep. And now, let the summit begin! I have convened us this night because we have very important business to attend to…”
Shockingly, Slytherin suddenly flitted across the top of the tower, soaring, his feet not touching the ground and his robes flapping like leathery wings. He stopped directly in front of James, towering over him, his eyes fierce and intent. “You are that business,” he rasped gleefully. He studied James’ face triumphantly, almost lovingly. Then, suddenly, he turned away. His feet touched the ground again and he walked casually out onto the wooden floor of the center of the tower. James saw that the trapdoor in the center of the floor was closed and locked.
There’d be no escape that way.
“A moment ago, down in my quarters, I was the teacher and you were the pupil, boy,” Slytherin said, looking out over the low wall that surrounded the tower. “Let us now reverse those roles. My friends and I wish to learn much from you tonight. You have the honorable task of teaching us. Let us start with something simple. What is your name?”
James felt a strong urge not to answer. If he answered even the most basic question, he feared he would answer all of them. Some latent idea of braveness and nobility insisted he remain silent no matter what Slytherin or his cronies did to him.
“You are thinking it is courageous to remain silent, my boy,” Slytherin said slyly, looking back at James over his shoulder. “You are thinking we will not merely kill you and use our arts to extract what we wish from the meat of your dead brain. You are thinking that such things do not happen to brave little boys. And this proves to me, my young friend, that you are indeed unfamiliar with this age. I know not what happens in the time from which you come, but here, terrible things happen to little boys every single day. Moreover, you are unknown here. You are a stranger. No one knows who you are, or even that you exist. If you disappeared, none would look for you. None would so much as notice your absence. Knowing that, do you really wish to stake your life on the hope that I, Salazar Slytherin, might be too soft-hearted to execute you this very night?”
James met Slytherin’s eyes. They glittered in the moonlight like coins. There was no soul in them. In them, James could very well see his own death.
James swallowed, and then stood up straight. “My name is James,” he declared, trying very hard not to betray his fear.
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