‘Hold, M-Martha!’ I said, raising my hand out to stop her advancing on the wizard. There was no distortion in the room like the one I’d seen when Sir lamorak attacked Garnish. The creature in front of us felt as if he only had one magic – one with Martha’s push-pull. Although the new presence was a distraction, I was sure that I could still sense the main part of Merlin’s body far away. This was more like the single magic he had separated from himself and sent with us to Avalon, though that one had had the solid, earthy feel of stone, rather than the metallic tingle of this version. ‘I-It’s only part of h-him. He m-must have left a t-t-t-trap in the r-ring.’ I looked at the creature. ‘W-W-W-W-What do you w-w-want?’
Merlin stepped forward. Palomides cringed away from him, whimpering.
‘Why, I came to see my friend Sir Palomides,’ said the sorcerer. ‘We had such pleasant talks at Camelot. Did we not, Saracen? Finding you two with him is such a nice surprise. A most pleasant reunion.’ He turned to me. His eyes were an oily swirl: first orange and then purple, shifting through a dull and sticky rainbow. ‘Though I must admit I hoped to find your lovely sister here, Lord of the Lake.’ He licked his lips. ‘Myself and the Lady Neave have much to discuss. There’s the long-standing issue of our marriage, of course – I do so wish she would consent to be my wife after teasing me for so long. But I also wonder if she might know the whereabouts of the bridal portion I’d planned for her. It seems Sir Lamorak has lost the lovely spear I was going to give her; he washed up on the shores of the land of Gore without it in hand. I do hope she has it. But perhaps you can tell me.’ He pointed the long fingers of his free hand, and wires like the ones that had trapped Palomides whipped towards me.
I threw myself backwards, batting the lashing wires away. They came at me from all directions, as alive as the healing watersnakes that grew from my own fingers. The barbs of his weapons tore at my clothes. One wrapped itself around my neck, choking me.
‘Stop there, foul creature,’ shouted Martha.
The blacksmith threw her chisel. It sailed through the air, snapping each of the wires inches from Merlin’s fingers, releasing me from their grip. The tool flew on, and felled a portion of the far wall, but before it touched stone Martha was on the wizard. She was taller and broader than him, and wrestled him to the ground. Merlin clawed at her face, his long fingernails scratching at her eyes. Martha raised her huge fist, and smashed him on the nose. The wizard cried out in pain, trying to kick her off him, but he was not strong enough.
And then he went limp. Martha was breathing hard.
‘I-I-I-I-Is he d-d-d-dead?’ I could still feel the aura of metal magic around him.
Martha frowned at his face, looking for signs of life. She raised her fist again, ready to finish the job.
That was the moment the wizard struck. He used Martha’s moment of hesitation to catch her. She grunted in pain as ten blue wires wrapped themselves around her arms and neck, lifting her from the ground. I could feel her magic being eaten away, draining into that metallic aspect of Merlin. He got to his feet, his eyes churning, the blood from his busted nose dribbling down his sharp yellow teeth. Martha writhed in pain, trapped by the glowing wires. I remembered Accolon’s stone hand crushing my wrist in the great hall of Castle Eudaimon.
And I remembered how we had defeated him then.
Martha’s chisel lay in a pile of rubble. The small silver thing was heavy in my hand, and I could still feel the magic in it. I ran towards Merlin, pouring my own anger and magic into the tool’s cutting edge. The silver turned blue and iced over, as mine and Martha’s magics combined within the weapon.
Without mercy, without holding back at all, I smashed the point of the chisel into the back of Merlin’s head, just below the edge of his silver skullcap. There was a sickening crack, and Merlin reeled backwards. The blue wires flailed, releasing Martha. Merlin and the blacksmith both crumpled to the ground.
‘What did you do?’ said Palomides. ‘Is he dead?’
I rolled Merlin over with my foot. Though the wires still flapped weakly, he was dead. That aspect of him, at least – I could still feel the headache of the rest far away. I dropped the frozen chisel, and grabbed Martha’s hand. She was alive, but I could no longer feel the magic in her. I pressed open the lid of her right eye, expecting to see clouds behind them, but though the whites were bloodshot, her blue irises were their familiar colour.
‘I-I-I-I-It’s alright, P-P-P-P-Palomides. H-H-H-H-He’s gone. J-Just like the p-p-part of him on Avalon that was Ac-c-c-colon.’ The Saracen still cowered in the shadow of the wall. ‘B-B-B-But you’ve g-got to help me now,’ I said sternly. ‘C-C-C-Come on. H-H-H-Help me get her on h-h-h-h-her horse. She s-s-s-saved all three of us. I-I-I-I don’t want to b-be here if anyone c-c-c-comes looking for Merlin.’
I reached out to check if the magical earthquake of the rest of Merlin was coming towards us, but it wasn’t moving. I groaned inside, wondering if the fragment of Merlin had learned of Neave and Christian’s whereabouts from Martha’s mind, and if he’d communicated that information back to the main part of himself. I only hoped that the snapping of the long wire had broken communications between them. But if he knew about the Cave of the Dragon... I prayed Neave had completed her work on the spear.
I should say Galahad, not Christian. My apologies. I have never fully learned to call my little nephew by other than the name Bellina gave him.
* * *
Martha was too heavy for Palomides and me to lift on our own, but when we brought her white horse into the ruined house it knew what to do. The beast knelt down, and we were able to haul its mistress over her back. The horse stood easily, with Martha’s head dangling over one side and her legs over the other. I tried to smash the ram’s skull on Merlin’s staff with my boot, but it would not break.
We went at a careful pace as we rode back along the coast. Even now that he was freed of the enchantment Palomides did not ride well. His long imprisonment had weakened him, and he was not talkative. He was reluctant to speak about his time as Arthur’s prisoner, and I did not press the matter.
His demeanor changed when we arrived back at the pebble beach. The moment he saw Mordred, Melwas and Elia waiting for us, and the Saracen ship in the bay, his eyes lit up, and he began to speak as he used to.
‘Mordred, my friend,’ he beamed as they embraced. ‘And the beauteous and fearsome Melwas. My little bard,’ he said, ruffling Elia’s curly hair, much to her annoyance. ‘You are still willing to come to my father’s house and be our family minstrel, I hope?’
‘Wotcher, P,’ said Elia. ‘Good to have you back.’
‘And the ship?’ said the Saracen, looking out to sea. ‘One of my brother Sagwarides’ battle fleet, yes?’
I squinted into the shining bay. Something didn’t look right with the ship. It took me a long moment to realise that its tallest mast had disappeared, making the vessel appear much smaller than it had before.
‘They’re here for us,’ said Elia. ‘Though your sister’s in charge.’
Palomides grinned, and began talking of how much he had missed Palomina during his long imprisonment. Then he asked of our other friends, Piers especially. Mordred took me by the elbow and led me to Martha’s horse. She was still unconscious, and I expected him to ask me what happened to her, but instead he whispered:
‘Is he safe?’
I didn’t understand what he meant; my face showed him that.
‘Is Palomides safe to take with us, Drift? Have Merlin and Arthur left any surprises in him? Is he really who he seems to be?’
I grunted as we lifted Martha down to the ground. ‘Y-Y-Y-Y-Yes. There’s n-n-n-no magic in or around h-him now.’
‘Are you sure?’
I took off my cloak, folded it over, and placed it under Martha’s head as a pillow. ‘As s-s-s-sure as I-I can be.’
Mordred sighed. His black eyes accused me of not doing all I could to help the cause.
My first impulse was to argue with him, to tell him it was wrong to use my powers in the way he was suggesting, but then I thought of the monster in the loch, whose long life I had ended; I thought of forcing myself into Sir Gawain’s mind to obtain something as small as a password. Neave’s words echoed in my memory: It’s not right for our kind to feel shame. We’re not like them.
I raised my finger and pointed at him accusingly. ‘Y-Y-Y-You knew,’ I said. ‘All along you and Epicene knew m-m-my sister was with us, and n-n-n-neither of you said a thing.’
His face was set hard, emotionless. ‘It’s war, mate. We have to use every weapon we’ve got, because you can be sure they will. Look at what they did to Epicene.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut. He was right. He was right.
Without looking back at Mordred, I drove a droplet of water to the back of my hand, and approached Palomides, who was silhouetted against the shining water.
‘P-P-P-P-Palomides, I-I-I-I-I didn’t say how g-g-g-g-good it is t-t-t-to have you b-back.’ I stood by his side and allowed the back of my hand to brush – TO BRUSH –
The pain the pain the pain the pain, oh the pain please make it stop, it burns it freezes it crushes, the paaaaaaaaain, please stop please stop please stop –
Oh thank you thank you thank you thank you.
The pain stops and he comes into focus. The back of my throat is raw from screaming, though I have heard nothing from my mouth. The pain silenced everything. The wizard darts his hand towards my face and I fear it’s going to start again, but he laughs.
‘Don’t worry, my dear Saracen,’ he says. ‘Though it would have been much easier for you if you’d simply told me what you know. You forced me to take it from you, and people who put me to unnecessary effort displease me.’ He turns to the man behind him. ‘Don’t they, my king?’
The other man is tall and thin, his eyes sallow. He looks old and tired, but I know he is not yet near forty. The finest thing about him is the sword he wears by his side. Excalibur. He fingers the hilt constantly, as if he’s worried that someone will tear it from him. He looks at Merlin with a mixture of anger and fear. He doesn’t reply. It is clear who has the real power in this strange cell, and it is not King Arthur.
‘They’re north,’ says Merlin. ‘What’s left of them. Barely defended.’
Arthur nods. ‘I’ll send Lancelot and Lamorak at once.’
‘No, no,’ says the wizard. His strange eyes swirl from a sickly blue to a dirty brown. ‘I’ve seen in the Saracen’s mind what the fire-witch did to the part of myself I sent to Avalon. I have a special fate planned for her. But first I need my new toy. Garrison the Roman Wall at Samhain to prevent others joining them, but have your men advance no further north than that, save Dinadan and lamorak. The May-children can do you no harm for the time being.’
Arthur nods at me. ‘What do you advise I do with him?’
Merlin shrugs. ‘Whatever you please. The boy is broken. Reward him as you see fit.’
The wizard sweeps out of the cell. Arthur takes a step towards me. He crouches, looks at my face tenderly.
‘Hmm,’ says Arthur. ‘You’re a fine-looking thing, under the burns and the blood. I’m sure your friends will want you back eventually... And your father is very rich, I believe.’ He stands. ‘Merlin!’ he shouts. ‘Come back!’
The wizard comes back into the cell. He does not look pleased. ‘What is it, my king?’ he says impatiently.
‘I’m going to knight him,’ says Arthur. ‘I want to use him as bait. Put him on the end of a line, there’s a good chap.’
Merlin nods. He is impressed by Arthur’s idea –
My hand brushed past Palomides’. Over in the bay, Palomina’s crewmen had lowered a raft into the water, and sailors were climbing down the side to row out to the beach.
I looked over my shoulder. Mordred shaded his eyes against the brightness of the water. I nodded at him. This was definitely the real Palomides. When Martha had broken the threads that bound him, the magical trap in which he had been wrapped was sprung. With the fragment of Merlin disposed of, Palomides was no longer bait to snare us.