“Could be,” Harry replied. “It might be that everyone Merlin put to sleep forgot about him as well. She may have no recollection of his coming last night.”
“So she still expects him to show up when she takes Prescott and his crew on the grand tour?”
“Perhaps. Although it won’t trip her up for long when he doesn’t show. Merlin’s probably halfway across the Forbidden Forest by now, getting directions from the tree sprites, now that they’re apparently awakened.”
James stopped in the middle of the corridor. A few paces later, Harry stopped as well and turned to look back at his son. James’ face was wide-eyed and thoughtful. Suddenly, he blinked and looked at his dad.
“I need to go to the Forbidden Forest,” he said. “It’s not too late. Dad, will you come with me? Zane, Ralph, you too?”
Harry didn’t ask his son any questions. He studied James’ face for several seconds, and then glanced down at Zane and Ralph. “What do you two think? You up for playing a little hooky?”
James walked purposefully into the forest, followed at a short distance by Harry, Zane, and Ralph. He threaded through the smaller trees at the perimeter, heading into the deeper heart of the forest, where the trees were huge and ancient and the sun was all but blocked out by rafters of dense foliage. For several minutes, the foursome walked in silence, and then, finally, James stopped. He turned on the spot, looking up into the shushing leaves and gently creaking branches. There were no other sounds. Harry, Zane, and Ralph stood twenty feet away, watching quietly. James closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then opened them again and spoke.
“I know a lot of you aren’t awake,” he began, looking up into the looming heights of the trees, “and I know that some of you who are awake aren’t on our side. But the ones who are will hear me, and I hope you’ll help. Merlin is out there somewhere. He may be far, far away by now, but even so, I think you know where he is. He talks to you, and I am betting you talk to him, too. I know tree sprites can talk, because we’ve already met one of you. I have a message for Merlin.”
James stopped and took another deep breath, not entirely sure what he meant to say. It had simply occurred to him that he should try. He had been used by Delacroix to help bring Merlin into the world, despite the best efforts of those who’d wished to prevent it. The knowledge that he’d allowed himself to be manipulated was horrible to him. All this time, he’d believed he was doing good, saving the world from evil, walking in the steps of his hero father. And yet his best intentions had been warped against him, against the world he’d hoped to protect. He’d tried to do it alone, like his dad had done, but he’d failed. He’d aided evil. And now evil expected him to give up. James didn’t intend to give up, though. Maybe now he could try to help in a different way. It was probably a long shot, probably utterly hopeless, but he had to try. Maybe this was his way, after all.
“Merlin,” James said uncertainly, “you said that Austramaddux made a mistake in bringing you to our time. You said he was selfish, that he just wanted to get out of the duty he swore to you. But Headmistress McGonagall thinks that you’re wrong. She thinks that this is the very time you were meant to return to, because this world needs your help to stop a war that might destroy us all. Well… I know I’m just a kid, but I think you’re both wrong.”
James glanced back at his dad. Harry gave a small shrug and nodded.
“I listened to everything you said, and what everybody said after you left, and I think you were brought to this time because you need something. You don’t know for sure if you’ve really ever done right or wrong. You don’t know if you controlled your powers or if they controlled you. I think the truth is that the world does need you now, but that you need this world, too. This is your chance--maybe your last chance--to prove that you are a good wizard after all. People have wondered for centuries whether you were good or bad, but who cares what the rest of history says about you? If you know in your own heart that you did the right thing when it really mattered, then it doesn’t matter what anybody else says. I don’t say this because I understand it myself yet, but at least I’m trying to learn it. You’re in this time no matter what, Merlin. Whoever brought you here means for you to rescue the world, but… I think you’re also here to be rescued from yourself.”
James finished and sighed. He looked up, craning his neck and squinting, searching the trees for some sign that his message had been heard, and that it might be delivered. The leaves simply continued to skirl and shush in the breeze. The branches creaked quietly to themselves. After a minute, James stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked disconsolately back to his dad, Ralph, and Zane.
Zane clapped James on the shoulder as they turned to leave. “That was the hokiest pile of salami I’ve ever heard,” he said jovially. “But I think you meant it. I liked it, even if it never does get to Merlin’s ears.”
“Did you come up with that all by yourself?” Ralph asked. James shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
Harry didn’t say anything as they walked, but he put his arm around James’ shoulder and kept it there the whole way back. James thought it meant his dad approved, even if it wasn’t the way he himself would have done it. And then James realized, with some contentment, that his dad approved because it wasn’t the way he’d have done it. James smiled and enjoyed that moment of quiet revelation. Maybe learning this truth--the sort of truth that one has to learn on his own, despite all the people who’d tried to teach it with mere words--was worth everything that had happened so far. He only hoped that it was worth more than what might still be to come.
19. Secrets Unveiled
Harry joined James, Zane, and Ralph for a very late breakfast in the house-elf kitchens below the Great Hall. James noticed that the house-elf operating the enormous stove bellows was the grumpy house-elf who’d told the three boys they were on probation. He eyed them with unguarded suspicion, but didn’t say anything. They crowded at a tiny table beneath an even tinier window and ate plates of kippers and toast and drank pumpkin juice and black tea. Finally, Harry suggested that the boys take a break and get cleaned up. They were still dressed in the clothes they had worn during the failed broomstick caper of the day before, and they were all decidedly grubby from their night in the forest. James was weary to the bone as well, and determined that he would collapse on his bed for at least ten minutes, school crisis or not.
On the way to the common room, James decided to take a detour to the hospital wing to collect his backpack. Philia Goyle and Murdock were no longer guarding the doors, of course, but James was surprised to see Hagrid crammed onto one of the benches nearby, flipping through a thick magazine called Beasts and Boondocks. He glanced up, closing the magazine.
“James, good to see yeh,” he said warmly, apparently trying to keep his voice quiet. “Heard yeh was back safe and sound. Seen your father, then, I’d wager?”
“Yeah, just left him,” James answered, peeking into the cracked doors of the hospital wing. “What are you doing here, Hagrid?”
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m keepin’ watch, I am. Nobody in nor out ‘less it’s by permission o’ the Headmistress. Needs his rest and ‘cuperation, after all he’s been through.”
“Who?” James asked, suddenly interested. He peered more closely into the crack between the doors. There was a shape lying still on one of the beds, but James couldn’t make out any features.
“Why, Professor Jackson, a’course!” Hagrid said, standing and joining James by the doors. He peeked over James’ head with one beady black eye. “Haven’t you heard? Showed up in the courtyard ‘alf an hour ago, looking quite a fright,” he whispered. “Caused no end o’ commotion when the students out there caught sight of ‘im. We brought ‘im in here straight away and I was given the post of keepin’ an eye on the doors while Madam Curio ‘tended to ‘im.”
James looked up at Hagrid. “He’s injured?”
“That’s what we thought at first,” Hagrid said, stepping back. �
�But Madam Curio says he’s all right except for a few broken ribs, some burns on ‘is arms, a nasty bruise on the skull and about a million cuts and scratches. He’s been in a duel, she’s says, and a long one, at that. Happened during the night, out in the forest. That’s all we could get out of ‘im before he conked out.”
“A duel?” James repeated, knitting his brow. “But Delacroix broke his wand!”
“Did she?” Hagrid said, impressed. “Now, why’d she go and do a thing like that, then?”
“She was the one he was dueling against, Hagrid,” James said tiredly. “He and she… look, I’ll explain later. But I saw her break his wand in two pieces. I saw the bits. He left them behind.”
“Weerrrll…,” Hagrid said, resuming his seat and producing a long, pained groan from the bench. “He’s American, y’ know. They like to carry more‘n one wand around. Comes from all that old Wild West lore and all. They sticks ‘em in their boots and up their sleeves and hide ‘em in their canes and such. Everybody knows that, don’t they?”
James peered into the crack of the hospital doors again, but he still couldn’t make anything of the shape on the mattress. “Sorry, Professor,” he said quietly. “But I hope you gave her royal hell.”
“What’s that, James?” Hagrid said, glancing up.
“I just came for my backpack,” James answered quickly. “I left it in there last night.”
“I don’t s’pose yeh might want to come back later for it, would yeh?” Hagrid asked earnestly. “Only I’ve got my orders, here. Nobody in nor out. The Headmistress thinks that whoever attacked Jackson might come looking for him. Can’t rule out it was that crazy nutter pretending to be Merlin.”
“It was Delacroix, Hagrid. But yeah. I can come back later. Good work.” Hagrid nodded, and then flopped his magazine open onto his lap again. James turned and headed back the way he’d come.
The Gryffindor common room was empty. The fire in the grate had burned down to red embers, but it had warmed up enough outside that it wasn’t necessary anyway. In fact, as James headed up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, he felt a gust of cool, fresh air push past him. Someone had apparently left a window open upstairs. He was just wondering if he should shut it or not when he topped the landing and saw Merlin reclined comfortably on his bed.
“Here is my little counselor, after all,” Merlin said, looking up and lowering James’ Technomancy textbook.
James glanced at the open window next to his bed, then back to Merlin. “You,” he said, his mind boggling slightly. “Did you…” He pointed uncertainly at the window.
“Did I fly in through it?” Merlin said, laying the book aside almost reverently. “Lofted upon the wings of my skyborne brethren? What do you think, James Potter?”
James closed his mouth, realizing that this was a kind of test. He pushed his first thoughts aside and looked around.
“No,” he answered. “No, actually, I think you just opened the window because you like the air.”
“I like the scents of the air, especially this time of year,” the great wizard replied, looking toward the open window. “The essence of growth and life comes from the earth now, filling the sky. Even the nonmagicked feel it. They say that ‘love’ is in the air in springtime. It’s close enough to the truth not to matter, but it isn’t love of a man and a woman. It is the love of dirt for root, and leaf for sunlight, and yes, wing for air.”
“But you wanted me to believe that you came in through the window, didn’t you?” James said, feeling carefully emboldened.
Merlin smiled slightly and studied James. “Nine-tenths of magic happens in the mind, James Potter. The greatest trick of all is to know what your audience expects to see, and making sure they do.”
James approached another bed and sat on it. “Is this what you came to talk about? Or are you here because you got my message?”
“I have been privy to many things since you last saw me,” the wizard answered. “I have moved in and out, to and fro. I have conversed with many old friends, reacquainted myself with the earth and the beasts and the air. I have met very strange things in the forest, articles of this age, and learned much of the way the world is in this time. I have studied you yourself and your people.”
James smiled slowly, realizing something. “You never left us! You vanished from the top of the tower, let us think you flew off with the birds, but you didn’t go anywhere, did you? You just turned invisible!”
“You have rather a talent for looking beyond the flat of the mirror, James Potter,” Merlin said, his voice low and his face impassive. “But I will admit that I did hear everything your Professors Franklyn and Longbottom, and the Pendragon, and yes, your father, said about me. I was amused and angered that they presumed to know me so. And yet I am no slave to arrogance. I asked myself if what they supposed was true. I left then, and I visited my old lands. I went in and out, to and fro. I studied my own deep soul as Franklyn supposed I should. And I found there was a shadow of truth in their words. A shadow…”
Merlin paused for a long moment. James decided not to say anything, but simply watched the wizard. His face remained utterly immobile, but his eyes were distant. After no less than two minutes, Merlin spoke again.
“But a shadow was not enough to bring me back to the mire of double-speak and confused loyalties that pass for battle-lines in this benighted age. I was far-off, exploring, seeking space and land and uninterrupted earth, already sinking into the deep language of the wind and the rain, when there was a new note in the song of the trees. Your message, James Potter.”
James was amazed to see that there was finally emotion on the enormous man’s face. He looked at James nakedly, his eyes suddenly wet. James felt shame for the man’s raw expression of anguish. He even felt a little guilty for his own words, words that had apparently, shockingly, pierced this enormous man’s hidden heart. Then, as if the anguish had never been there, the massive, stony face composed itself. It was not a matter of masking the emotion, James realized. He was simply witnessing the workings of emotion in a man whose culture was utterly alien to him, where the heart was so close to the surface that deep emotion could pass over the face shamelessly and completely, like a cloud obscuring the sun but for a moment.
“Thus, James Potter,” the wizard said, standing slowly, so that he seemed to fill the room. “I return. I am at your service. My soul does indeed require this. I have learned much of this world during my travels this day, and I love little of it, but there is a present evil, even though it is masked with duplicity and etiquette. Perhaps defeating that evil is secondary even to stripping that evil of its façade of respectability.”
James grinned and jumped up as well, not sure whether to shake Merlin’s hand, hug him, or bow. He settled for pumping his fist once in the air and proclaiming, “Yes! Er, thank you, Merlin. Er, Merlinus. Mr. Ambrosius?”
The wizard simply smiled, his ice-blue eyes twinkling.
“So,” James said, “what do we do? I mean, we only have a few hours before Prescott and his crew gather to film the school and everything. I guess I have to explain all that to you. Sheesh, this is going to take a while.”
“I am Merlin, James Potter,” the wizard said, sighing. “I have already learned as much as I need to know about this world and how it works. You’d be quite surprised, methinks, to learn how much the trees know of your culture. Mr. Prescott is not your problem. We simply need a council of allies to aid us.”
“All right,” James said, plopping back onto the bed. “What sort of allies do we need?”
Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “We require heroes of wit and cleverness, unafraid to foil convention in order to defend a higher allegiance. Battle skills matter not. What we need at this moment, James Potter, are scoundrels with honor.”
James nodded succinctly. “I know just the group. Scoundrels with honor. Got it.”
“Then let us have at it, my young counselor,” Merlin said, smiling a little frighteningly. “Lead on.”
“Mr. Potter,” Merlin said breezily, stepping out onto the landing and placing his fists on his hips, “you won the moment I decided to join you.”
“Is that the famous Merlin pride talking?” James asked tentatively.
“Like I said,” Merlin replied, turning to follow James with his long, slow stride, “nine-tenths of magic happens in the mind. The last tenth, Mr. Potter, is pure and unadulterated bluster. Take note of that and you’ll do very well.”
After the bright, misty morning, the day progressed into a hazy stillness of unseasonable warmth. Headmistress McGonagall had insisted that classes continue, even during the tour of Martin J. Prescott and his entourage, but in spite of her order, dozens of students had gathered in the courtyard to witness the arrival of the Muggle reporter’s crew. Near the front of the group, James and Harry stood side by side. Only a few feet away, Tabitha Corsica and her Slytherin compatriots were looking decidedly bright-eyed and eager. On the top of the main steps, Headmistress McGonagall was flanked by Miss Sacarhina and Mr. Recreant. Martin Prescott, on the lowest step, glanced at his watch.
“Are you sure they can get their vehicles in through the way you described, Miss Sacarhina?” he said, glancing up to where she stood, squinting in the sunlight. “They will be driving vehicles with wheels, as I’ve said. You know. Wheels. There aren’t any magical mud bogs or bridges with trolls living under them or anything, are there?”
Sacarhina was about to answer when the sound of automobile engines became audible in the near distance. Prescott jumped and spun on the spot, craning to catch a glimpse of his crew. James, standing near the front of the crowd of students with his dad, thought Headmistress McGonagall was handling herself pretty well, considering everything. She merely pressed her lips tightly together as the huge vehicles rumbled into the courtyard. There were two of them, and James recognized them as the sort of enormous off-road trucks Zane called ‘Landrovers’. The first one ground to a halt directly in front of the steps. All four doors popped open and men began to emerge, blinking in the hazy sunlight and carrying large leather bags covered in thick pockets. Prescott scampered down among the men, calling them by name, pointing and yelling directions.
James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing Page 51