by Matt Phelan
The two sisters paid him no mind. They were deep in conversation.
“You must always listen to your older sister, Morgan,” said Morgause.
“My older sister is merely a visitor in Faerie and perhaps should listen to one who has experience here,” said Morgan Le Fay quietly.
“Did I not seek you out? Did I not realize that the great and feared sorceress Morgan Le Fay could help me in my mission to destroy Arthur? I urge you to consider the wisdom of my plan.”
“Is it wise to be so obsessed?” said Morgan. “To be consumed with revenge?”
“Our family has suffered greatly under Arthur and his father Uther before him. You once shared my thirst for justice.”
Morgan looked at the dull yellow sky, the immense gnarled forest of Faerie.
“I have spent half my lifetime among the Good Folk here in Faerie. It changes you, dear sister.”
“For the better, I assume,” said Morgause. “At the very least you appear younger and more beautiful than last we met.”
Morgan let out a short, mirthless laugh. “Time in Faerie has a strange effect on humans. Some grow old, some grow young. It is simply the surface. The real change happens inside.”
“This past year has not harmed me, I can assure you,” said Morgause.
“And your youngest son?”
“My only son,” corrected Morgause.
“What of him?”
“Never better.” Morgause smiled.
“Well, hello!” a third voice purred from the forest. A creature emerged, almost human in appearance. Thin. Otherworldly. His eyes, each a different strange color, were cold. He held a small baby wrapped in a blanket.
Morgause rose at the sight of him.
“Good day to you, Ash, King of All Faerie. I thank you once more for your hospitality, kindness, and benevolence.”
“As you do every day,” added Morgan under her breath.
“Ah. You used to say that to me every day as well, Morgan Le Fay. I miss it. Perhaps I will think of a new daily pledge for you. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Morgan did not respond. Ash turned his attention to the knight seated at the table.
“And how are we today?” he called, then laughed. “Oh, I forgot. You cannot speak. Perhaps one day I will allow you to rise from your banquet, brave knight.” Ash turned to the sisters. “Imagine risking everything to save a mere baby. Knights and their quests! So earnest!”
Ash tossed the baby into the air. The sisters watched. The knight continued to eat, his eyes fixed in their blank stare. Several winged creatures caught the baby, tugging at the blanket. They giggled and murmured “yum, yum” over and over.
“Take it away, but do not eat it. Yet,” said Ash with a lazy wave of his hand. The imps flew off.
Ash glided to the largest of the chairs. He put his feet up on the table.
“And so, Queen Morgause, let us talk more of your request.”
“Gladly, Ash. I am anxious to begin. It has been a year and—”
“Do not bother me with the human measurement of time. It is silly and pointless. You humans understand nothing.”
“Yes, Ash. That is true,” said Morgause through gritted teeth. “I have much to learn from the Good Folk.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Ash. “Endless knowledge! We are the most splendid beings.”
“Exactly my point.” Morgause gave him an ingratiating smile. “Why not add Camelot to your wondrous realm? Why limit yourself?”
“My dear, we are not limited. We come and go in the human realm as we please. We visit dreams. We haunt the woods. We are a flicker of movement in a mirror’s reflection.”
“Yes,” said Morgause. “If they recognize your presence, to them it is occasional, a flutter, an abnormality. Like spotting a rainbow. People like King Arthur believe that they rule all.”
“Well, that is silly,” said Ash, taking a bite of some fruit. “Do you not think that is silly, dear knight?”
The knight took a bite of bread but still said nothing.
“Eat up, simple thing,” Ash said as he tossed his own fruit into the woods. Small creatures swarmed over the scrap in an instant.
“Such foolish creatures, humans. Delusional kings. Baby rescuers. So easily tricked. Perhaps you are right, Morgause, and it is time for a change.”
Morgause lit up. “Yes, Ash. With the Good Folk at my side—”
“You mean with you at our side.”
“Yes.”
“A little ways to the back.”
“Yes, Ash, of course,” said Morgause. “Together we will conquer Camelot. Who could possibly stop us?”
“HOLD IT!” cried Sir Erec as he and the others stumbled into the glen.
Morgause, Morgan Le Fay, and Ash turned to stare at them.
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” said Morgause.
“Queen Morgause,” continued Erec. “There will be no conquering of Camelot on our watch. We insist that you come with us. You must account for your treachery and for unleashing monsters into the world.”
“Especially for the monsters,” added Hector.
“The creatures you call ‘monsters’ were already in the world, foolish knight. They are simply now common in your realm as well as theirs,” said Ash patiently.
“And who are you?” demanded Bors.
Ash laughed. “I am Ash. I am wildness and uncertainty. I am wishes and dreams. I am of the earth and stars. I am—”
“Ash. Right. We get it. Are you in charge here?” asked Erec.
As the knights and Mel approached, Magdalena glanced at the spellbound knight. He raised the bread to his lips once more.
“In charge? I suppose you could say that,” purred Ash.
“Then we ask your permission,” said Magdalena, “to take Queen Morgause with us and return to our realm. By your leave.”
“Oh, I do like you! Manners are so important. Are you, fair lady, a knight as well?”
“I am,” said Magdalena.
“And you,” said Ash, pointing to Mel, “are you a knight?”
“She is only a child,” said a voice from the woods. A thin, teenaged boy with long, black hair stepped into the glen.
“Mordred?” asked Mel after moment.
“The same,” said Mordred with a grin.
“Not the same at all,” said Mel. “Seeing as you were younger than me a year ago.”
“Living in Faerie has its advantages. Time, age . . . those trifles can be changed if you wish,” said Mordred.
“And you wished to be older?”
“I wished to reach my destiny.”
“Right. You’re coming, too, Mordred,” said Erec.
“I think not. In fact, I do rather think that Ash might insist that you remain here,” said Mordred.
“I am considering it,” said Ash casually. He lowered his voice and addressed Mordred. “But do not ever presume to know what I am planning.”
“Of course not, King Ash. I apologize. It is just that I would like to show some aspects of Faerie to Mel,” said Mordred quickly. He turned back to Mel. “Some of the Good Folk share my interests in nightmare and torture. I get along very well with them. I believe the time has arrived for you to pay for what you did in Orkney.”
Mordred moved with surprising speed toward Mel. Mel removed her bow from her back.
“Silly girl.” Mordred laughed. “What good is a bow without arrows?”
As Mel aimed the bow and muttered a few words, it began to glow. Mordred was blasted into the air and thrown several feet back.
Ash clapped. “She knows a bit of magic! Well done! How delightful!”
Mordred got to his feet. His eyes were murderous. He rushed at Mel and she again raised her bow. Morgan Le Fay snapped her fingers and the bow became a snake, hissing and snapping. As Mel threw the snake, Mordred tackled her onto the table in front of the spellbound knight.
In the instant before anyone could act, Mordred raised a stone knife and thrust it down.
T
he spellbound knight’s hand shot out and caught Mordred’s wrist. The knife was mere inches from Mel’s heart.
Ash leaped to his feet. “Foul knight! You were not under my spell! You tricked me! Me!”
Morgause quickly moved behind Morgan as Erec, Hector, and Bors tossed Mordred off Mel.
Magdalena faced Ash. “We are taking Morgause and Mordred. Now.”
Ash’s eyes flashed. “Did you really think it would be so simple?”
He brought his hands together with a sound like thunder.
And the knights and Mel were alone. Ash was gone. Morgause, Mordred, and Morgan were gone. The table was gone. The rotting meat house was gone. The woods had returned to normal. They were no longer in Faerie.
Chapter Five
Now What?
Mel was the first to speak.
“Thank you, sir knight, for saving m—”
“You fools!” roared the mysterious knight. “You utter, complete fools!” He slammed his hand on a tree.
“Hold on,” said Bors. “He was tucking in pretty well at that table. I thought you couldn’t eat in Faerie.”
“He wasn’t really eating,” said Magdalena. “Just sleight of hand. I noticed it as we passed the table. Very convincing.”
“You do not need magic for deception,” growled the knight.
“Who are you?” said Erec. “You’re not from Camelot.”
The knight’s anger deflated into something else entirely.
“I am Sir Morien. The Good Folk still have the baby.”
“Do not despair, Sir Morien,” said Hector. “Your quest is not over.”
“This is not a quest.”
“A charge, then. Surely the baby’s parents will understand if you need more time,” offered Erec.
“She is my baby!” Morien erupted. And then, quietly: “Our baby. I was biding my time. Waiting for the moment to strike. She’s so . . . scared. I was close. And now . . .”
Morien shook his head and wandered into the dark, ordinary woods.
“Sir Morien,” called Mel. “We will help you return to Faerie.”
“Let him go,” said Magdalena.
“Poor fellow,” said the Green Knight, who seemed to have materialized from the trees.
“Excellent,” said Erec. “Green Knight, where is the meat house?”
“Right there,” said the Green Knight, pointing to a clearing nearby.
“No, it’s not. Nothing is there!” barked Bors.
“It is indeed, my foul-tempered friend,” said the Green Knight. “You cannot see it, touch it, smell it, or hear it, but it is there. However, that way is no longer open to you.”
“How do you hear a house?” wondered Hector.
“Enough riddles.” Erec sighed. “We have no idea how long we have until this faerie invasion of Camelot. We need to find a glen or something with . . . I don’t know . . . an unusual amount of moss.”
“Faerie might find you, but you will not find Faerie. And yet, Faerie is everywhere,” said the Green Knight.
“Your brain is moldy like your skin,” said Bors.
“Let me try to explain,” continued the Green Knight. “Think about the stars. Where are they in the daytime?”
Silence. Blank stares. The Green Knight tried again, more slowly.
“Work with me here. Where . . . are . . . the . . . stars?”
“Um,” began Hector.
“Gone,” said Bors flatly.
“No!” said the Green Knight with a beaming smile. “They are still there in the sky!”
“No, no, no.” Bors was not having it. “They are gone. They are in the Star Place.”
“The Star Place?” said Magdalena with raised eyebrows.
“How should I know what it’s called!”
“The stars are still in the sky, Bors. You just cannot see them. Faerie is similar in a way.”
More silence. Hector cleared his throat.
“You should see who is standing next to you at this moment, Hector,” said the Green Knight with a wince. “Not pretty.”
“Yes, well,” said Hector, taking a hasty few steps to the right. “Perhaps we should go consult Merlin. He may know of another way into the faerie realm.”
“Good idea,” said Erec. “Although getting a straight answer out of Merlin is also unlikely. Mel, you better do the talking.”
The knights and Mel mounted their horses and turned to go.
“Be careful, brave friends,” called the Green Knight. “I fear you do not realize what you are up against.”
“We never really do,” said Erec as they rode off.
The journey back to Camelot was uneventful, but a strange mood had enveloped the castle. The few people around spoke in hushed tones. Some stopped speaking at the sight of Mel.
“Merlin,” whispered Mel.
She took off, leaving the others confused. There was no time to tell them the story that Merlin had told her about the tree. A possibility, he said. Not a destiny. And yet . . .
Mel ran as fast she could up the curving stone steps to Merlin’s tower, hoping he would be there, that she was wrong, that he had made a different choice.
She burst into the library. Merlin was not there. And the entire room—the books, the magical objects, the vials, globes, telescopes—everything was lifeless. Merlin’s absence was total and complete.
“He’s gone and done it. The old fool.”
Archimedes the owl was perched by the windowsill, and he was speaking to Mel for the first time.
“All of his incessant talk about possibilities and reality and magic, then he goes and does the exact thing he was warned of for years. ‘Oh,’” the owl continued with a good impression of Merlin’s voice, “‘imprisoned in a tree for all eternity. What a nice vacation!’”
Archimedes ruffled his feathers. “What was the point of all this? What do we do now?!”
The owl fell silent. Mel was still stunned. Archimedes looked out the castle window before turning back to Mel.
“Well, I am through with humans and your illogical ways. No more will I stay in your company. From this day forward, if you by chance see me and call out, ‘Hello, Archimedes!’ I shall simply answer, Who?”
And with that the great owl flew through the window and far away from Camelot.
Mel glanced around the tower. Perhaps one of these books had a spell that could free Merlin from his imprisonment. Yes, she would search all . . . of . . . the . . . books. No. There were far too many. And if such a spell did exist, it would take more than a novice’s grasp of magic to cast.
After a quiet knock on the door, Hector stepped into the library. He walked over to Mel and stood beside her.
“If I’d been here, I could have stopped him,” said Mel after a moment.
“I think . . . I think probably not, Mel,” said Hector softly.
“It wasn’t destiny or fate! He didn’t have to go,” said Mel angrily.
“Merlin made his decision. It is difficult to know someone’s reasons. Merlin especially, I should imagine.”
“I just want to do something.”
“I know,” said Hector.
“But I can’t.”
Hector sighed and sat down on a plush velvet sofa by the bookshelves.
“We can sit here,” he said. “Together. It isn’t much, Mel. But it is something.”
Mel rubbed her eyes, then sat beside Hector. She leaned against his shoulder.
The two sat in silence for a very long time.
Chapter Six
The Squires and the Tree
The next morning the band gathered in the hall by the kitchens of the castle to eat breakfast and discuss Next Steps.
Bors tucked into the full breakfast, Hector had his bread and jam, Erec concentrated on a stack of bacon and Magdalena on her scrambled eggs. Mel’s untouched bowl of porridge cooled in front of her.
“All right,” began Erec, crunching thoughtfully. “We have had some setbacks, but today is a new day and we are m
ore than up to the task at hand. Who would like to start?”
Quiet munching sounds. Some soft sipping at cups.
“Start what?” asked Bors.
“Ideas. We are sitting here using our brains. I reckon we will have a veritable storm of ideas in just a few minutes,” said Erec.
“Do you have an idea?” asked Hector.
“Certainly,” said Erec. “I was just being polite and letting one of you go first.”
More silence and stares.
“Yes. Well . . . ,” began Erec. “A: we need to get back to the faerie realm. B: we must confront Morgause and this Ash creature. C: um . . . stop them from making Camelot part of the faerie realm.”
“I think perhaps A is problem enough for now,” said Magdalena.
“We go back to the forest, obviously,” said Bors. “Wander around until we find some sort of magical creature and persuade it—roughly, I hope—to let us back into Faerie. There. Done! Plan set.”
Bors sat back, quite pleased with himself.
“Well?” he continued. “Anyone have a better plan?”
“No,” admitted Erec.
“Which is exactly our problem,” finished Magdalena.
Mel stirred her porridge. “I have an idea,” she said quietly.
“What is it?” asked Magdalena.
“We find a way to rescue Merlin. Merlin can stop Ash and Morgause.”
Silence fell again. Mel began to eat, not looking up at the others. The knights exchanged glances, but none had any words for Mel.
“Well, look who it is!” rang out a voice.
Two knights in splendid attire strolled to the table.
“The Band of the Terrible Lizards! The Defenders of the Great Orkney Monster Scourge! Specialists in All Things Uncanny!” said the first knight.
“Hello, Tristan,” muttered Erec. “And, of course, Lamorack. How is the sidekick business, Lamorack?”
“‘Sidekick?’ What is this you speak of? Sir Tristan and I are bosom companions. Friends of Adventure. We do not need a band.”
