by Daniel Diehl
Not to be bested by her old enemy and his young accomplice, Morgana sends Dr Fu Ling Chu and his demons to intercept them before they can escape across the Mongolian border into Russia. In a classic fight of good versus evil, Merlin and Ling Chu battle each other during a raging storm, the outcome of which takes the life of Ling Chu and inflicts severe injuries on Merlin. Rescued by a group of passing Buddhist monks who are returning home from a pilgrimage, Jason and the wounded Merlin are taken to their monastery high in the mountains separating Mongolia and Russia. During Merlin’s recovery, the pair discovers an ancient Gnostic manuscript hidden in the monastery’s library which offers them definite, but cryptic, clues to the origin of Morgana’s dragon army and the only means by which it can be defeated.
While Merlin, Jason and the Lama of the monastery try to decipher the incomprehensible clues in the old book, they are tracked down and attacked by the one remaining dragon which Morgana has kept in her dungeon for more them sixteen hundred years. No more capable of defeating a dragon now than he was during King Arthur’s lifetime, Merlin admits defeat, leaving their fate in Jason’s hands. Drawing on his knowledge of history, Jason constructs a medieval ballista and arms it with a frozen copper spear which he hopes will short-out the dragon’s electrical-based life force. When the dragon attacks the monastery a second time, Merlin assists Jason by building a protective energy shield around his protégé while he mans his primitive weapon and kills the creature.
Before they leave the monastery, the Lama gives Merlin and Jason the seemingly indecipherable book, along with a potion which will render them invisible to Morgana’s scrying glass. Knowing that they are safe for the time being, the pair make their way back to England.
Unknown to either Jason or Merlin, only days behind them is Morgana le Fay who is also returning to England to lay new plans to eliminate Merlin permanently so she can bring the army of dragons into the world, secure in the belief that she will rule as regent over the shattered remnants of civilization.
Our story continues as Jason and Merlin’s flight back from Mongolia nears London’s Gatwick Airport. It is now mid-February.
Chapter One
Mumbling and twitching in his sleep, Merlin snuggled deeper into his heavy bearskin coat when, after a restive moment, he began to dream again. He dreamed of a time when he had been priest and court wizard to the warlord Uther, known as the Pendragon, and of his time as mentor to Uther's son Arthur. He dreamed of the ambitiously evil Morgana le Fay who had driven him into fifteen centuries of self-imposed exile in a six inch crystal sphere buried deep in the earth beneath Tintagel and he dreamed of Jason Carpenter, the young archaeology student who had dug up the sphere, thrusting him into a world for which he was emotionally and psychologically unprepared. But mostly, he dreamed of dragons.
First appearing as legends and stories brought to Briton by travelers from distant lands, when the dragons finally appeared in Briton during Uther's reign they brought with them a tidal wave of death, fire and destruction that destroyed Uther's fragile political coalition. Appearing out of the sky, the dragons swooped down on the primitive armies of fifth century Briton, leaving in their wake a land burned and blackened, much as it had been foretold in the biblical Book of Revelations. Merlin’s troubled dreams recalled the time when their common greed had brought the Dragon Lords and Morgana le Fay into a mutually advantageous compact designed to wipe out all civilization and install the mad Morgana as regent over the shattered remnants of the earth. Their plans were only thwarted when Merlin broke into Morgana's library and secured enough information to temporarily close the invisible gate through which the dragons came to earth. Lastly, he dreamed of his brief time in the twenty-first century when he and Jason Carpenter had chased Morgana le Fay in a crazy race across three continents, finally confronting Morgana's one remaining dragon at a Buddhist monastery in the icy mountains separating Mongolia and Russia. They were terrible dreams, nightmares filled with danger, death and blood. Worst of all, they were completely real.
“Merlin. Merlin, wake up.”
“Mph? What? Oh, I'm sorry, Jason, I must have dozed off for a moment.” Merlin opened bleary eyes, focusing on the haggard face of the tall, slim young man sprawled in the seat next to him.
“A moment? You've been out cold for nearly four hours.” Jason grinned wryly, tugging idly at his long blond ponytail.
Pulling himself upright in his seat, Merlin looked around, taking in his surroundings, bringing himself back to the world. “Oh, good heavens. I am sorry, I must have been dreaming.”
“I know, you were muttering in your sleep. It was her wasn't it? You were dreaming about Morgana, weren't you?”
“Yes, her and the creatures. It was very disturbing. You’d think I’d be used to it after a millennia and a half, wouldn't you?”
“I understand. And don't apologize. After what we’ve been through in the last six weeks you’re entitled to a little sleep, I'm just sorry it wasn’t more restful.” Jason's voice was placating, reassuring.
“Where are we?”
Glancing up at the flashing seat-belt light on the overhead panels, Jason answered “We’re just coming in to...” Before he could finish he was cut off by the public address system.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing at London Gatwick International Airport in approximately ten minutes. The weather in London this evening is cold and rainy, and the temperature is five degrees Celsius. Please remain in your seats until the plane has come to a complete stop and the overhead seatbelt lights have been turned off.” The stewardess’ voice droned through the close air of the 747, grating on the nerves of more than two-hundred tired passengers.
“God, it’s good to be home again.” Only Jason's eyes betrayed the depths of his exhaustion, but at twenty-five, he was expected to have more resilience than his companion whose bearing and agility belied his physical age of seventy-five and whose chronological age was only slightly shy of one-thousand-six-hundred years.
“It is, indeed, my boy. Unfortunately, there is still a great deal of work to be done.”
“I know, but we don't have to think about it tonight. Morgana can't find us anymore and you have all the time you need to figure out a way of sealing the dragon gate once and for all.”
“Not me; us. Remember, it’s you who will have to decipher the riddle of the Gnostic gospel, Jason.”
“Oh, please, Merlin, not tonight.” Jason waved his hands helplessly in the air. “I just want to go home and get some sleep.” He paused, shook his head and let out a long breath before completing the thought. “Sleep, what a wonderful concept.”
“Do you think your young lady is going to let you get any sleep after not having seen you in almost two months?” The old wizard's eyes twinkled.
“You really are a dirty old man.”
“Not in the least,” Merlin protested in a tone of mock injury. “She’s an attractive young woman and love is a perfectly natural thing between two healthy young people.” Then, after a small pause he added almost as an afterthought. “She does love you, you know.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes.” Merlin laid a paternal hand on Jason's arm. “I really think so. In fact, I know so.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Nothing. But one doesn’t have to be a wizard to know love when it stares you in the face.”
“Right.” Walking toward the check-in gate and passport control, Jason looked at Merlin with a side-long glance. After seeing the old man perform a hundred or more impossible feats of magic any doubts concerning his power had long since been erased.
Beverley McCullough elbowed her way through the crowd of people milling around the entry gate outside the international arrivals desk, her long, frizzy auburn hair billowing out around her shoulders like a halo of fire. Craning her head one way and then the other, she searched through the line of tired looking passengers from Air Mongolia's flight number seven as they straggled wearily into the vast bl
eakness of Gatwick's main terminal. Finally, her eyes came to rest on two disheveled looking figures, a skinny, heavily bearded old man wearing a long grey gown under a filthy fur coat and his tall, slender young companion. Ignoring those around her she rushed forward, throwing herself onto Jason, embracing him and burying her face against his shirt. A second later, she pulled back and began pounding furiously on his chest with one fist while clutching his jacket with the other. Huge, wet tears seeped out of her eyes and rolled down her delicately freckled cheeks.
“Damn, you. Damn you, Jason Carpenter. I’ll have your guts for garters, I swear I will. Seven weeks of running all over the orient and not a single bloody word from you until you were ready to come home. I was worried sick. I didn't know if you were alive or dead. Morgana could have eaten the both of you for all I knew. Then what would I do? I'm not exactly on her list of friends and favorites, you know. Don't you ever do that to me again, do you hear me?”
“Whoa. Easy, Bev, easy. I told you when I called from the airport that we lost the mobile phone when we had to abandon the Land Rover. I'm really sorry. Honest.”
Beverly pulled away, wiping her face awkwardly before nodding abstractly and turning toward Merlin and embracing him fondly.
“I'm really glad you're alright, too.” Then, pulling her head back with a jerk, nearly gagging, she choked out “Oh, bloody hell, what’s that smell?”
“I'm afraid it’s my coat. It’s had a rather hard time of it.”
Beverley's grimace almost passed for a weak smile. “I told you not to wear dead animals.”
Merlin laughed for the first time in weeks and threw one arm around Beverley and the other around Jason. “May I suggest that we all go somewhere, sit down, relax a bit and get something to eat? I'm famished.”
“What you really mean is you want a drink.” Jason snapped playfully, poking the old man gently in the ribs.
“Ah, yes. That is what I mean, isn't it?”
“Oh, I don't know. If we’re going to drive all the way back up to York tonight, we need to leave now. It’s a long way and you both look dreadful.” There was real concern in Beverley's eyes as she examined the two men's faces.
“Well, then, possibly we should get rooms somewhere near the airport and get a good, fresh start in the morning.” Merlin seemed genuinely enthused by this sudden inspiration when, in fact, staying near London had been his plan all along.
“Umm, we don't really have much cash left and I think my credit card is about tapped-out after paying for the plane tickets.”
Herding Beverley and Jason toward the exit and the car park beyond, Merlin muttered “Don’t worry. I’m sure providence will provide a solution.”
“You're not going to do one of those weird things you do to get money, are you?”
“Why, Jason, I’m shocked that you would think such a thing about me.”
Two hours later Jason, Beverley and Merlin were ensconced at a small corner table in the restaurant of the Gatwick Marriot Hotel. As Merlin and Jason unraveled their adventures in Mongolia they were both careful not to reveal anything that might cause Beverley undue worry. But the knowledge of what they now understood about Morgana, and the dangerous work still ahead of them, punctuated their conversation with occasional awkward silences. They told Beverley about their time with the itinerant Mongol tribesmen and the wonders of the Buddhist monastery, trying to avoid any in-depth retelling of the horrifying fiery deaths caused by the dragon attack. Still, Merlin insisted on heaping lavish praise on Jason for coming up with the idea of constructing the medieval ballista with which he had ultimately killed the beast, and for probably being the only man ever to face down a dragon and live to tell about it. When Beverley stared into her boyfriend’s face in shocked awe, Jason pooh-poohed the whole thing as a fluke and admitted he was scared out of his wits the entire time. His humility only made Beverley snuggle closer to his side.
In gentle retaliation for what he honestly believed was unwarranted flattery, Jason deflected the conversation toward Merlin. He told Beverley about the previously unseen talents the old man had displayed; his levitating skills, his ability to create flaming balls of fire from thin air and hurl them at Morgana's army of mercenary thugs. He told her how Merlin had made the two of them appear in Morgana's office even though they were actually standing in a pitch-black tunnel far below ground. With mounting excitement he even blurted out the details of Merlin's duel with the Chinese sorcerer Ling Chow, and how Merlin had hung suspended in mid-air during a bone-jarring electrical storm, fighting the evil necromancer in an epic battle-to-the-death. Already awed by what she had seen of Merlin's powers, Beverley was at once fascinated, and more than a little frightened, at the power of this seemingly eternal man who had suddenly popped into her and Jason's life from the pages of some Arthurian fantasy, bringing with him tales of the threat posed to humanity by Morgana le Fay. The more Beverley heard about Arthur's step-sister's plots and plans, the more incredulous she became.
“I just can't understand how can anybody can be that WICKED?”
“My dear,” Merlin said, taking her hand gently in his and locking his unnaturally vibrant blue eyes with hers, “the woman's soul is so empty, so completely imbued with evil, that she can only feel pleasure by inflicting pain on others. The more and greater the pain, the more satisfied she is. It may be a sad truth, but it’s the truth nonetheless.”
Attempting to veer the conversation away from the subject of Morgana, Jason and Merlin concentrated on less depressing aspects of their journey. They described the ancient book - probably a form of pseudo-Gospel written by the ancient mystical sect known as Gnostics – they had discovered in the library at the Buddhist monastery, and which apparently alluded to the secret of the dragons’ method of entry into the world. With a sigh, Merlin explained that because the manuscript was written in a combination of Greek, Latin, Hebrew and Persian it was almost impossible to translate so that it made any coherent sense. From what he and the Panchen Lama had been able to worm out of it, the book apparently said that the dragons’ earthly power was centered around a cave that had once been used by holy men who were not holy and a warrior who was not really a warrior. There was also mention of ‘waters of oblivion’ and something referred to as the light of the underworld. None of it made any sense. Once again, Merlin insisted that it would be Jason, and not himself, who would unravel the mystery of the book, and find the answer which would lead them to the means of permanently closing the ethereal gate through which Morgana planned to call in the dragons and conquer the world.
During the course of their long, rambling conversation, Jason carefully side-stepped his short imprisonment by Morgana and her threats to hunt down Beverley if he refused to cooperate in the capture of Merlin. Since he had escaped unscathed, there didn't seem to be any need to mention the ugly threats against Beverley's life, particularly since she was still dutifully wearing the small crucifix that Merlin had empowered against Morgana's scrying crystal, and given to her before he and Jason left on their quest to find Morgana. Discussion of the crucifix did, however, remind Merlin of another protective device they had obtained from the Buddhist monks. Reaching into the leather pouch hanging from his belt, he produced a small jar, unscrewed the cap and held it out toward Beverley.
“What’s that?” Beverley leaned forward, sniffing at the nearly transparent, creamy contents of the jar.
“It would appear that this is an anti-scrying agent. Sun Wang To, the Panchen Lama of the monastery we were staying at, gave it to us. A small dab of this applied regularly to the center of the forehead makes it impossible for anyone to find you through the medium of a scrying glass. Jason and I have been using it now for more than a week, and we think you should begin wearing it too.”
“If you think that's best, sure. Do I need it when I have the magic crucifix?”
“The crucifix is hardly magic, my dear, and although the stone from which the cross is made has been given special properties to deflect the power o
f the scrying glass, it would be wisest if you use this as well. Better safe than sorry, as they say.” Merlin reached across the table and laid his long, slender hand over Beverley’s, patting her gently.
“Whatever you say.”
Throughout the conversation, Merlin had been glancing furtively over his shoulder, peering through the doors of the restaurant and into the hotel lobby.
“Is something wrong out there?” Reflecting on all they had been through, Jason craned his head around as his voice became tight with anxiety.
“No, no. Everything’s perfectly fine. I just need a moment to investigate something. If you two will excuse me, I’ll give you a little time to yourselves. I should be back shortly and then we can have something to eat.” Thinking about what he had missed most in the world of twenty-first century culinary arts, he added dreamily, “I wonder if they have pizza here?” Rising from his seat, he wandered toward the door, ignoring Jason's protests that they really were very nearly out of money.
Alone for the first time since his return, Beverley leaned closer to Jason, nesting her head on his chest, idly tracing a seam on his tattered Levis with one finger.
“You smell. You need a bath,” she murmured quietly.
“You want to help me take care of that?” When she raised her eyes to meet his, Beverley saw the grin playing across his weary face.
“Sure.” And she grabbed his ribs, making him flinch.
Before Jason could carry the thought any further, Merlin swept back into the restaurant and settled back into his seat.
“I took the liberty of getting us rooms for the night. I think we will all feel better if we have a bath and get a good rest before starting out in the morning.”
“Umm, Merlin, where did you get the money this time?” Jason shook his head in anticipation of yet another of the old magi's semi-larcenous money conjuring tricks.