by James Riley
“Good enough,” Fort said. “That’s the plan, then, Damian. You listen to William, and do whatever he tells you. Got it?”
Damian looked disappointed for the briefest of moments, before nodding. “I will, Your Sir Majesty!” he said, enthusiastic once more. “Anything to make up for my awful behavior earlier. Are you sure there’s nothing else I could do too? Destroy your enemies, or fly you around the world?”
Fort had to swallow the bile in his throat. How hadn’t he seen this right away? What was wrong with him that he’d enjoyed this, even for a second? It wasn’t about humiliating Damian … the dragon boy had no choice in the matter. It was like kicking him over and over when he was already unconscious. Just brutal, and cruel.
“No, just what I said,” Fort said. “Please … just go. And I’m sorry, Damian. Really. I am.”
Damian looked at him in shock. “You have nothing to apologize for, ever, Your Majesty, sir! But I will go, if that makes you happy.” He gave Fort a long, deep bow, then disappeared in a blink of green light.
Fort turned to the others, feeling just as sick about it all as they looked. “You were right,” he told Rachel, not even wanting to hold the book anymore. “That was not okay. Any of it. I felt it in my head, pushing me to learn more, and to … to use it on more people.”
Rachel’s eyes widened, but she nodded and let out a huge breath. “The fact that you told us that actually makes me feel better. I’d be more worried if you were hiding it and planning on using it when we stopped watching you. I’m just glad you were able to fight off the magic.”
For a moment, there was silence, and Fort tried to forget how easily the magic had almost taken him over. It’d been so easy to listen. Did he really want to hurt Damian that badly? Sure, the dragon was a jerk, but humiliating him, or worse, using the magic on Rachel, just because she was telling him to stop? He’d asked her to watch him for that exact reason!
“So, wait,” Jia said, interrupting Fort’s guilting session. “Did we just stop London being destroyed? Does that mean the war won’t happen now?”
They all turned to Ellora, who frowned, her eyes going black. “It’s so hard to tell, since the book of Spirit magic is involved,” she said. Her eyes went back to normal as she gave them a miserable look. “But I’m still seeing a war in the future. That means if London doesn’t set it off, something else does.”
“No!” Jia screamed, while Ellora’s words felt like a punch in Fort’s gut. All of that and they still hadn’t stopped the war? Everything they’d promised to the faerie queen, having to face down Damian, and all of it was for nothing? Even the dome above them would be useless, causing panic but nothing more.
“I told you this might happen,” Ellora said, staring at the ground. “This is why we needed the book, just in case!”
“There has to be another way,” Rachel hissed, her eyes on Jia as she paced away, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she muttered to herself, something about this not being the deal. “Come on, Ellora: You can see what’s coming, so tell us how to fix it!”
Ellora pointed at the book in Fort’s hands. “There is no other way. It’s either Spirit magic to make sure the world’s leaders never want to go to war, or …” She trailed off, staring at Fort sadly.
Or she’d have to remove Fort’s father from time completely.
“Then it’s the book,” he whispered, his chest hurting like something was squeezing his heart tightly. “I used it once; I can do it again.”
Even as he said it, disgust filled him at what he’d felt while casting Spirit magic. It’d been so tempting to keep going, to make Damian do whatever he wanted, or start in on his friends without even having a reason to. Would he be able to resist a second time?
And why was it so tempting to open it again right now?
It wasn’t like he had a choice, anyway. He’d have to use it, because the only other option was sending his father away. And he couldn’t do that, not even for a year, let alone forever.
Still, he hated how a part of him rejoiced that he’d get to feel the power again.
“We can’t do whatever we’re going to do out here,” Rachel said finally, turning to Fort. “We’ll need to go somewhere safe. Just in case things … get out of hand.”
He nodded, trying not to think about how warm and comforting the Spirit magic had felt. “Cyrus did want us to come to him when we got the book,” he said.
The others all looked at him in confusion. “Where is he, anyway?” Rachel asked.
“Oh, just some magical cottage in the woods with a weird old man that he keeps yelling at,” Fort told her. “So nothing really new for today. Let’s go.”
- THIRTY-FIVE -
AS THEY TELEPORTED TO THE cottage, Fort realized he hadn’t really taken a close look at it, given how Cyrus had been vague and confusing at the time. Now that he was here with his other friends, it was like seeing it for the first time.
The cottage itself looked like it was either hundreds of years old, or built in the last few years; there was no way of telling. The stone was so expertly laid in the walls that it felt like the product of modern architecture, and yet, from the ways the trees surrounded it, Fort couldn’t imagine it hadn’t always been here.
A strange door knocker made of what looked to be iron hung from the middle of the old wooden door. The knocker was in the shape of a small imp, hanging upside down by its tail, and honestly was a bit too lifelike for Fort’s taste.
Still, Cyrus was waiting, and Fort wasn’t going to waste any more time before getting answers from him. He reached out, lifted the door knocker, then yelped in pain as something stabbed his fingers. The knocker dropped back against the wood, hitting with a loud bang.
And then the door knocker itself groaned as well.
“Easy there, boy,” the imp said, turning to look at him. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“I’ve got this!” Rachel shouted, pushing her way past Fort before he could even object. Even with everything they’d just been through, she couldn’t hide her excitement at the talking door knocker. “Hello, sir! Are you actually alive, or just magicked to be that way? Do we need to answer some kind of riddle to get past? Who cursed you to be like this?”
She put a hand up to touch it, but the imp bared its teeth at her, revealing what had stabbed Fort in his hand. “Polite people don’t ask such personal questions!” the imp said. “And what makes you think I’m magic?”
“You’re a talking door knocker,” Rachel pointed out. “I’m not sure science has really gotten that far with believable artificial intelligence yet.”
“Well, maybe it should think harder,” the imp said, crossing its arms. “And frankly, I don’t enjoy this attitude you all have going. Time was, prospectives would have the good courtesy to be afraid when I came alive. But you lot all seem practically jaded. What’s the world even coming to?”
Prospectives? What did that mean?
Something clicked on the other side of the door, like a lock turning.
“Hey!” the imp shouted. “I haven’t let them in yet.”
“That’s okay,” said a familiar voice, and Cyrus opened the door with a smile. “I can vouch for them all.”
“Cyrus!” Jia shouted, and leaped forward to hug the boy as the door knocker sighed dramatically. Rachel quickly followed, while the imp continued its complaints.
“Oh, so that’s how we’re doing things now?” the imp said from behind the opened door “Vouching for people? No care for security nowadays, is there? This is just sad, that’s what this is.”
“Are you sure you vouch for all of us?” Ellora asked, stepping into the doorway.
Cyrus smiled at her. “It’s been too long, Ellora. I’m sorry I couldn’t help get you all home before now.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “It wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter.”
Cyrus looked uncomfortable at that, nodding and moving past her. “Nice to finally see you in person, Fo
rt,” he said, looking half-excited, half-unsure about where they stood. “I know we’ve spoken in time visions, but now that you’re here … I owe you an apology. I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry for how we left things. I never should have told you not to go after your father. I should have realized that nothing would stop you, no matter what kind of warning I gave you.”
With everything that had happened since the Dracsi dimension, Fort had almost forgotten about their argument. But it was still kind of touching that Cyrus seemed worried about it, and that he cared enough to apologize. “You were right,” Fort said, shaking his head. “I should have listened to you. You knew what was coming, and I … I didn’t want to hear it.” He nodded up at the dome. “I know this is all my fault.”
Cyrus shook his head too. “You just set things in motion. You’re no more responsible for it happening than a piece of yarn is for the sweater it becomes.”
Fort nodded, not understanding what that meant at all, but happy to put it behind him. “So we didn’t really get a lot of time for questions when I was here last,” he said as Cyrus waved him and Ellora inside. “What is this place?”
“Protection,” Cyrus said as the door closed behind them all. “I happened upon it before I went to the Oppenheimer School and kept it secret just in case.”
But Fort barely heard him, staring in wonder around the room. In the time visions, he almost couldn’t believe the dining room was in the same cottage as before: From the outside, the cottage didn’t even look big enough for one room this size.
But doors led off in different directions, now that he was inside. Not to mention that outside, the cottage was clearly just one floor, but inside, a wide staircase led up to another hall leading to more rooms, from what Fort could see.
How was this possible? It had to be magic, which made him even more curious about it. Who had built this place? The old man? And how?
“Where did this come from?” Jia asked, her eyes wide with amazement as well.
Cyrus just shrugged, gesturing for them to sit down. “It’s not really important. Take a seat! The tea should be ready in a moment, and I’ve got food if you’re hungry.” He paused, his eyes unfocusing. “Which I see that you all are. Let me bring you something.”
He clapped his hands, and plates filled with warm bread and pastries floated out from a table next to the fire to land on a dining table in the middle of the room, while a kettle of tea began to pour itself into several cups.
“Magic plates? Tea that serves itself?” Rachel shouted, almost exploding with excitement. “I love this place!”
“Yeah, okay, but what kind of magic is this?” Jia said, staring at a plate with a chocolate pastry floating by her.
Cyrus wrinkled his nose. “It’s actually not, to be honest.”
Not magic? Fort reached for one of the steaming teacups floating by him and picked it out of the air. It came free of whatever was holding it without any difficulty, and he waited for it to start yelling at him like the door knocker, only the cup stayed silent, seemingly nothing more than a regular, normal teacup.
“Not magic?” Rachel said, putting her sword on the wooden table, where it clanked for some reason, not at all the sound he’d have expected from wood. “Explain, Future Boy.”
Cyrus stared at the sword for a moment, his eyes wide. “That’s … quite a sword, isn’t it?”
Fort gave him a surprised look back. “You didn’t see this coming? But your friend warned me—”
“No, I did,” Cyrus said, his eyes still on the sword. “I just … didn’t realize it was so …” He seemed to snap out of it abruptly and smiled at them as he grabbed a floating cup of tea. “Right, the cottage. I can show you how it’s all done, if you’d like, but it’s much nicer all around if you just let it do its thing.”
“Show us,” Rachel said, and she and Jia both leaned in toward him curiously, while Ellora sat down in a corner seat away from the others.
Cyrus sighed. “Oh, fine.” He snapped his fingers in a quick pattern, then sat back and waited.
The wood on the table below them disappeared, revealing what looked like transparent plastic filled with various lights and projectors. The thatched roof above them turned into thick plastic sheeting, as did the floor, which had previously looked like it was made of stone.
The floating teacups now hovered along with some sort of glowing device on the bottoms. Whatever it was, it seemed to hold them in the air with no difficulty, but the technology to do such a thing was far beyond anything Fort had ever seen. Even the plates were pulled from the cupboards by what had been invisible robotic hands, and the food emerged from some sort of science-fiction-looking dispenser.
“It’s all future tech,” Cyrus said, sounding almost sad. “Isn’t it kind of sad? The man who built this place went to a lot of trouble to make himself comfortable by using things he found in the future. But he didn’t want anyone in his time to know where it came from, so he disguised it all to look like magic.”
“Future technology?” Jia said, tapping one of the floating teacups.
“Who built this place, Cyrus?” Rachel asked, grabbing her sword again. “I think we’re going to need a name.”
Cyrus winced. “He went by a lot of names, but the one you’d know best would be—”
“Merlin,” said a voice as the old man stepped out from one of the doorways, raising his arms majestically but dropping them as a confused look passed over his face. “At least, I imagine that’s how you know me. It’s always so hard to remember what year I’m in.”
- THIRTY-SIX -
FORT STARED IN CONFUSION AS Rachel leaped to her feet in excitement. He couldn’t have just heard right. Had the old man really said his name was Merlin? It couldn’t be the actual Merlin … could it?
Granted, they’d just found out King Arthur was real, and Rachel had Excalibur sitting on the table next to her. Could this really be the magician who’d raised Arthur? Or at least one of the Arthurs?
“You’re not serious !” Rachel shouted at the man, getting up close as if she couldn’t believe he was real. “Are you really him?” She began to run in place nervously, waving her hands as if she was meeting her favorite celebrity. “Am I dreaming? I’m just imagining this, right? Tell me I’m right!”
But as if in answer, the old man’s image seemed to glitch out for a moment, turning bright blue, before reappearing solidly before them again. He smiled as he returned. “Ah, child. Who’s to say what’s real and what isn’t?”
“I am, actually,” Cyrus said to the man, sounding annoyed as Rachel just stared in shock. “And you’re not real, not here.” He turned to the others, blushing a bit. “I’m sorry about this. I tried to turn off his hologram before you got here, but somehow he keeps coming back to life.”
“Life finds a way,” the hologram of Merlin said, moving to stand at the head of the table. With the fire from the kitchen behind him, they could now see the flames through his transparent body.
This made Fort even more confused. The old man wasn’t actually here? Was he a part of the high-tech cottage too somehow?
As Fort stared, he realized the old man was looking right back. “Is something wrong, young man?”
“Oh, ah, no, sorry,” Fort said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I should hope not,” Merlin said. “Rudeness deserves our full attention, so only attempt it when you are sure you mean to be.”
Cyrus sighed loudly. “I’ll go try to turn him off again.” He stood up and left for the other room, and they heard him start kicking something over and over.
Meanwhile, Rachel looked devastated at the reveal of the hologram. “So what, are you some kind of program?” she asked. “You’re not the real Merlin.”
“Why, of course I am, young lady,” Merlin said. “This isn’t a recording. I’m speaking to you from the distant past, using technology from the far future. Why let time get in the way of a good conversation, I always say!” He laughed at his own
joke, but Fort didn’t really get it.
“Except I keep turning off the communicator, and he still won’t go away!” Cyrus yelled from the other room.
“Ignore that cranky fellow,” Merlin said, sitting down at the table with them. “Now, I see we’ve got the Avalonian sword.” He smiled at Rachel. “A female Artorigios? About time. So you’re on the hunt for Emrys, the Old One of Time, eh?”
Fort’s eyes widened. How did he know that?
“Oh, Forsythe, you’d be surprised by how little I don’t know,” Merlin said, seeing what Fort was about to ask before he asked it, just like Cyrus and Ellora had done. The old man turned back to Rachel. “Besides, I didn’t need magic to know this. I’ve trained every Artorigios to face Emrys, so now it appears to be your turn, Rachel.”
“I’m going to be your apprentice ?” Rachel said, then began making a sound like a teakettle going off.
“Do you know where the Old One is?” Fort asked when she didn’t seem capable of speaking any further.
“Obviously,” Merlin said with a wink. “But only those who are prepared to face him will get that from me.” He looked at Jia. “You, my child, have a different goal, don’t you?”
Jia looked at him strangely. “I’m not really clear who you are, honestly.”
“No one important,” he told her. “But what I can do is help you with your own magic. I can teach you how to merge disciplines and create your own spells without the use of books. And that—”
She gasped. “That would mean no one would have to go to war over the books of magic. There’d be no need!”
Merlin smiled slightly. “One would hope. Besides, I know about your deal, and I’d prefer you were ready for it.”
Jia went pale as Merlin moved on. What deal was that? Had she taken the faerie queen up on something too?
But Merlin had turned to Fort, keeping him from any further wondering. “And as for you, my boy … well, there’s nothing I can do for you, unfortunately.”
Fort blinked, not especially surprised, but still a little hurt. “That’s, um, okay. I didn’t need anything.”