Cecil glares at me, but bends down once again to murmur in Jen’s ear. I turn my focus to Jen’s body. Beyond a stiffness around her center, likely from her current mental state, the lauvan along her front flow freely. But when I crawl to her other side, the issue is clear. The middle of her back is a tightly bound mess of knots the size of my fist. I carefully lift her shirt, and the bruising has already deepened her skin to a nasty blackish-red.
Wayne has been striding around the clearing for the past minute. He finally stops.
“Ah ha! Reception at last. Now I can call for an ambulance.”
He begins to dial, but at a glance from me, Alejandro hits the phone out of his hands.
“Don’t dial yet, Wayne.” I say. “By the time I’m done, Jen won’t need an ambulance.”
“What the hell?” Cecil says. “Jen is seriously hurt. She needs a doctor right away.”
“I know you have issues with the authorities, Merry,” Wayne says gravely. “But you can’t decide for others what is best. Jen needs medical attention.”
“Neither of you know exactly what I’m capable of. I understand your hesitation. But you’re right, Wayne, it shouldn’t be up to me. Let Jen decide.” I bend over Jen’s back so she can see my face. “Jen, carind, do you remember when your car was totalled, and you woke up and walked away without a scratch?”
“Yes,” she whispers. Her eyes search my face.
“You were hurt in the crash, quite badly. But I healed you then, and I can heal you now, if you’ll let me.”
“Or we can call an ambulance and let the professionals take care of you,” Cecil says loudly.
Jen looks from Cecil to me and back again, then her eyes land on mine.
“How long do you need?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Okay. Cecil, call for help in twenty minutes if Merry can’t do this.”
I move back to the knot. Jen’s shivering grows to shudders.
“She’s in shock,” Alejandro says. “We need to keep her warm.” He pulls his shirt off and lays it over Jen’s shoulders. We all follow suit. Wayne starts to climb the embankment.
“I’ll keep a lookout for other Potestas members. I know Drew was likely on his own, but it never hurts to be on guard.” He disappears around the cliff side.
I don’t answer. My concentration is focused wholly on the mess of knots before me. Beneath my practiced fingers the threads untangle swiftly, but there are many. Jen continues to shudder, and Cecil murmurs encouraging words while he rubs her hands. Time passes, and my fingers never cease. Alejandro paces, his face pale and strained. Sometimes he watches my hands in their constant motion, sometimes he looks at Cecil with an expression of frustration.
“Five minutes left,” Cecil says. He stares at me intensely. I barely glance at him.
“Understood.” I’m almost there. It won’t be perfect, but Jen will be able to walk again. Perfect can be attained later, without a countdown clock.
I’ve left the biggest, most important knot until last. It’s the final one, the knot that, when unraveled, will snap the vertebrae into place and heal the fractures. Everything else was in preparation for this moment.
“One last thing. I won’t lie to you, Jen—it will hurt like nothing else. But then it will all be over.”
Jen nods with the smallest inclination of her head.
“All right. One, two…”
I pull the caught lauvan with my fingers and they spring apart to float freely once more. A crunching, cracking sound emerges from below the former knot, and just as quickly ceases. Jen’s scream does not. It wrenches out of her throat with an ear-splitting howl and her body arches. Cecil grasps her arms in shock, then glares at me with rage. Alejandro’s eyes tell the same story. I raise a hand in conciliation.
“It’s done.”
Jen’s breaths are ragged. I lean over so she can see me. Her eyes flicker up.
“Time to sit up, carind.”
“I can’t,” she whispers. “Not after that. I can’t. What if it happens again?”
“It won’t. And you don’t have to do it alone.” I tuck one hand under her waist, while the other supports her head and shoulders. “Just relax and let me lift you up. All right?”
Silence, then a slow nod. I tighten my arms and carefully raise her torso. She flinches.
“Relax your body. Let me lift you.”
Slowly, eventually, Jen sits upright. I release her but keep a hold on her arms for support. I search her face.
“How do you feel?”
She looks at her legs and wiggles them gently under their shirt blanket.
“They work,” she breathes. “I’m okay.” Her breath catches in a sob. “I’m okay.” Her shoulders shake and her breath comes more and more unevenly. I smooth her hair again and she collapses against me. Her sobs shake her body. Even with her back healed, I’m worried about shock. It’s time to calm her down and remind her body that it’s not in crisis anymore. I hug her gently and softly sing the first song that surfaces in my mind. It’s one of my earliest—a lullaby that my mother sang to me when I was a young child. Jen won’t understand the words, but the melody is soothing.
It takes a while for Jen to stop hiccupping. When she is calm enough to speak, she pushes away and looks me squarely in the face.
“I broke my back, and you healed me.” She shakes her head and sniffles. “Why you aren’t working at the hospital, I’ll never know.”
“My charity only extends so far.” I give her a small smile. “I’ve never claimed to be a good man—I’ll settle for half-decent.”
Jen twists experimentally. Her face is expressive with relief at the lack of pain.
“I’ll need to readjust you tomorrow. Take it easy until then.”
“Thank you, Merry.” Jen’s smile warms my heart. I help her up, then dig into my pocket and extract my car keys. I toss them to Cecil, who catches them with excellent reflexes considering his startled expression.
“Take Jen home in my car. You’ve driven stick before, right?” Cecil nods, and I wiggle my fingers at Jen for her keys. “I would say be careful with the car, but she’s so beat up there’s not much you can do.”
“What about you three?” Jen asks.
“We need to take care of something. I’ll bring your car around tomorrow.”
Jen nods, then accepts Cecil’s arm. They hobble up the embankment and disappear. The rest of us shrug our shirts back on.
“You’re the real deal,” Wayne says. “Fight the wind, heal the sick, can you raise the dead?”
“Sorry, that’s not on my list of skills. Not for lack of trying, though.”
Wayne lets out a long, low whistle. He looks like he’s digesting the new worldview I’ve exposed him to.
“How about you?” he asks Alejandro. “This doesn’t shake you up?”
“I’ve known for a while.” Alejandro give me a half-smile. “Merlo’s an old family friend.”
“This is too weird,” Wayne says. “I’m looking forward to watching TV tonight and thinking about absolutely nothing at all.”
“Before we fulfill your wish, I need to take care of a certain someone first.” I jerk my thumb up the cliff. Alejandro blanches.
“I forgot about him. What do we do with the body? Will someone start looking for him? What will we say to the police?”
“You think he’s dead? God forbid that I should offend modern sensibilities by killing the son of a bitch. Besides, I don’t need the hassle. Come on, let’s drag his hide back to the car.”
The others follow me silently to the top of the hill, where Drew’s supine body lies in a tangle of Oregon grape bushes. I don’t blame Alejandro for wondering. It must have looked like I sucked the life out of him.
“Good, he’s still out. I stripped the spirit off him—it must have been a shock to the system. Oh, and when I suffocated him, that likely didn’t help.”
Alejandro restrains himself from commenting, and says only, “Let’s take him to the car.” He ho
ists a leg. Wayne tucks his hands under Drew’s arms and I lift the other leg. We set a good pace, despite our ungainly tromping through undergrowth. The plateau gives me a moment’s hesitation, but the only wind is a gentle breeze that cools the back of my neck.
At the car, we unceremoniously fold Drew into the backseat. I hand the keys to Wayne and climb in after Drew.
“You want me to drive?”
“Please. I need to rearrange some of Drew’s lauvan.” It’s necessary for my plan to work.
“And where are we taking ‘the body,’ after all?”
I quickly search on my phone while I hold up one finger for Wayne to wait. The address I look for appears, and I say it out loud.
“Drew should be out of the way there,” I say. “And with any luck, he’ll be free of his need to hunt me down.”
“That’s a good idea,” Alejandro says with approval. “See, you’re a good guy after all.”
“Sure, if I’m allowed to claim decisions made for my own selfish reasons that happen to benefit others. Then, I’m one of the best.”
Wayne pulls out of the parking lot and we cruise down the mountain. I have my hands full with Drew’s lauvan, but the job doesn’t require a lot of concentration.
“I want to say thank you, Wayne. For your quick thinking and quicker reflexes, for coming along to help, for buying into the madness in the first place.”
“No sweat. Thanks for letting me tag along.” He grins at me in the rear-view mirror. “It’s been a rush.”
“And thank you both for coming to save me,” Alejandro says with feeling. “Drew was so crazy, I thought I was done.”
“Your gratitude is misplaced, on my part,” I say, my fingers wrapped in gray threads. “You were only in danger because of me.”
“Come on, Merlo, you can’t blame yourself for what this lunatic did. If you truly believed that, you wouldn’t have any friends.”
“I told you I was selfish.”
“Well, I’m glad. No one should hide away just to avoid hurt.”
I’m attempting that very strategy in my love life, according to Dr. Dilleck, except I’m more worried about my own pain than someone else’s.
My thoughts turn to Drew. I had hoped, for one exhilarating moment, that I’d found someone like me. Ever since I discovered Potestas, I’ve been watching carefully for signs. What Drew could do with his spirit companion—it was so like my own powers. Perhaps I’m getting closer to answers, answers about myself that I’ve been searching for, fruitlessly, for centuries. Perhaps it’s time to delve deeper into Potestas.
“How did you let Jen slip into ‘just friends,’ Merry?” Wayne breaks my reverie. Alejandro glances at him. “You two seem pretty tight, and you aren’t the type to let a pretty girl get away. Is it because she was a student?”
“That wouldn’t have stopped me. No, she can do better. She has a bright future ahead, and it’s not with me. In the meantime, we get on well.”
“Fair enough.” Wayne eyes me in the mirror. “Do you predict the future, too?”
I laugh and tie the last knot above Drew’s left eyebrow.
“No. I know myself, that’s all.”
“Look, there it is.” Alejandro points out the windshield. “Is Drew ready?”
“Yes. I’ll wake him up now.” One tweak of his lauvan, and Drew sits up groggily. “Nice of you to join us, Drew. I’m Michael, and this is Wilf and Alberto. We’re your friends, and we’ve come to support you as you check yourself into rehab. Understand?”
“Yes,” Drew murmurs.
“You will tell the attendant that you wish to stay for the maximum time, in order to fully clean up. And not to allow any visitors except for me, Michael Smith. Got it?”
Drew nods blankly.
“Now look lively, and go.”
Drew snaps to attention and opens the door. He steps out smartly and closes it with a firm hand, then marches up the steps.
“Will it work?” Wayne says hesitantly.
“I’m sure it will,” Alejandro says confidently. “Merlo is very good at this.”
“More stories from your uncle?” I say. He grins back at me. I lean forward. “Let’s find a pub. Drinks are on me.”
“Now you’re talking,” Wayne says.
***
Drinks went a long way toward masking the discomfort of my minor cuts and bruises, but now that I’m back in my own bed, I might as well untangle my lauvan to save myself some pain in the morning when the alcohol wears off. I’m alone with my thoughts. Alejandro’s snores from the living room are a gentle backdrop to their meanderings.
My immediate threat is vanquished, now that Drew is safely ensconced in the rehab center. It won’t be for long, but perhaps he can shake his addiction and won’t need a spirit possessing him. It works for some people.
Potestas, though, is a stickier pot of honey. If they want me alive, why did they support Drew’s machinations? If they want me dead, why didn’t they try harder? Perhaps they don’t care about me one way or another, which my ego rebels against but my head hopes for.
I want to know more about the organization. How do they recruit? My only link is Anna. I glance down at my center. The threads of my connections emerge from it, brightly colored at my center but fading to transparency an arm-span from my body. Alejandro’s green shoots in the direction of the living room, and Jen’s deep gold travels south. I have a few new ones, interestingly: Wayne’s rust-colored lauvan and a midnight blue I recognize as Dr. Dilleck’s. I suppose my candid dialog with my therapist went deeper than I thought. Conspicuous in its absence is Anna’s purple.
This is worrisome. It was only a few days ago that we slept together, far too soon for a natural fading away. A dramatic cut like that usually indicates death.
What happened to Anna?
I finish up the last of my knots. I shouldn’t care, but I can’t help wondering if she came to harm during her confinement. A quiet curse escapes my lips, and I rise from my bed.
Alejandro continues his slumber, uninterrupted by my passage. The balcony door slides closed with a soft click, and a gentle breeze lifts my hair. A few pulls of lauvan, and my feathered form soars toward the half-full moon.
The city glows with a thousand twinkling lights, gleaming like miniature fires far below my wings. Flying is so refreshing that I have to mentally shake myself to stay on task. There is no lauvan connection to follow, so I’m searching by memory for a house that I’ve only visited once, on the ground.
I circle above the general neighborhood until the streets grow familiar and I can swoop down to the white house, yellow in the dim light of a street lamp.
All the lights are off. I fly past the kitchen window once, twice, thrice. When I am certain the kitchen is empty, I flap my wings hard to gain altitude for the flight home.
Whatever happened to Anna, it’s not likely the result of my actions. That’s as much information as I can glean. I hope she isn’t dead. Life for mortals is short enough without it ending prematurely, and I wouldn’t wish that on her. Besides, she was my only link to Potestas. Now, how do I proceed?
CHAPTER XX
Dreaming
A longhouse emerges though the trees, a rectangular wooden structure with a vast thatched roof. The sun sends dappled patterns on the dead leaves that crunch under our horses’ hooves. The air has a scent of decay and approaching autumn. I sigh in discontent.
“I don’t know how you talked me into this. Visiting Morgan is a bad idea. For me, at least.”
“It’s been years, Merlin,” says Arthur. “Surely she’s forgiven you by now.”
“I doubt it. Women have extremely long memories, and are highly accomplished at holding grudges. Can you believe I haven’t spoken to her since she left your father’s house?”
Arthur rubs his chin thoughtfully. A chicken wanders past the longhouse, visible even from this distance.
“I can believe it. She visits only rarely, and you make yourself scarce when she does.”
/> “Avoidance—not the most honorable strategy, but I never claimed to be proud of my dealings with Morgan.”
“Whatever did happen?” Arthur eyes me with consideration. “The last time I asked, years ago now, you said I was too young.”
“Nothing barbaric. I simply failed to deny certain assumptions she made, namely that I would ask Uther for her hand. When he announced her betrothal to Idris, and I said nothing in return…”
“Ah.” Arthur laughs lightly. “I can see why Morgan would take offense. Poor Morgan—she’s too proud for that sort of treatment.”
“As I said, it wasn’t my finest moment. Perhaps she’s forgotten by now. Miracles can happen.”
“Doubtful in this case. You’d better brace yourself.” Arthur slows his horse to a walk as we approach the house. Two figures emerge from the front door at the thud of our hoofbeats on the packed earth. One conceals a rounded stomach under her dress.
“Arthur Pendragon,” says Vivienne. “And Merlin. Welcome. My master and mistress are out, but will be back shortly. You may wait inside if you wish.” She waves at our horses and addresses her companion, an older man with rough spun clothing. “Take their horses to the barn and look after them.”
The man nods, and we pass the reins to him.
“It’s Vivienne, isn’t it?” says Arthur. Vivienne nods and looks surprised that Arthur remembered. “You came to the battle camp a few months ago.”
“That’s right.”
“Hello, Vivienne,” I say. “Any sign of Mordred? He wouldn’t want to run into me.”
Vivienne raises a brow, but says only, “He is away.”
“Where?”
A shrug, but her lauvan tell me she knows.
“He’s likely visiting the other lords,” Arthur says. “Trying to turn them against the truce. See, Merlin? This is exactly why we needed to come.”
I sigh.
“I fear you’re right.”
“Can I offer you some refreshments?” Vivienne says. “Come inside, please.”
We follow her through the open door, and she directs us to benches by a low fire. Although it’s a sunny day, the air has a hint of coolness that makes a fire welcome. Vivienne takes our cloaks and lays them carefully over a chest along one plastered wall. When she turns to us again, the tiny cluster of pale pink lauvan over her stomach wriggle, at odds with the movements of Vivienne’s own lauvan. She grimaces momentarily.
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