“Nothing that mundane, my dear Arthur,” he responded ruefully. “No, if you wish to go back to our time, you would have to stay on the Isle of Avalon. It would be a peaceful, pleasant existence, to be sure. You would have anything and everything you wanted and no doubt live to a remarkably old age.”
He lifted a shoulder in question, knowing that such a life was unlikely to appeal to his old comrade. “Is that what you want? Because if it is, I could send you back right now.” Merlin paused in thought. “Or after dinner, if you prefer. You are not unlikely to get guacamole back in Briton.”
Arthur scowled. “What is the alternative? I do not belong in this time.” He didn’t look at Morgan.
“You might at least wait around until you find out if you are going to be given the Senate seat,” Morgan suggested quietly. “You could do a lot of good in a position like that.”
“And then you would be able to stay with Morgan,” Crystal chimed in with her usual charming lack of subtlety. “The two of you make such a great couple; it would be a shame to split you up.” For a minute, she looked almost like her old perky self. Then she remembered her own situation and slumped back into depression.
Morgan got up from her chair and put her arm around her friend. “It’ll be all right, Crys,” she whispered. “We’ll get through this.” She kissed Crystal’s cheek, thinking of all the romantic crises they’d weathered together. Of course, none of those times had been quite like this. She felt like her heart was going to shatter into a million tiny shards.
“Besides,” Merlin added, thwacking Arthur absentmindedly with the trowel and making him jump, “this seems like a very interesting time to live in. And not just the food. They have all sorts of remarkable stuff. Have you seen that Inter Net? Whoo hoo!” He gave a bawdy wink and Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Well?” Clarice asked eagerly. “What do you think, Arthur? Will you stay?”
Arthur got up and walked over to where Morgan was sitting with her arm around Crystal. He stood in front of her and squared his broad shoulders as if going into a battle he wasn’t sure if he could win.
“I do not believe it is my decision alone to make,” Arthur said. “If I am to remain, it will affect others besides me.” He stared down at Morgan in case it was not already completely clear about whom he was speaking.
Morgan swallowed hard and let go of Crystal. She stood up in front of the tall red-haired warrior, feeling a quiver in her knees and a rush of blood to her head.
“What are you asking me, Arthur?” She put one hand out tentatively, willing it not to shake.
He took her hand in his larger one and looked down into her eyes. “I could not stay in this time without you by my side, Morgan,” the king said softly. “You are my strength, my guide and my heart in this strange place.”
“I need to know if you will stand by me and be my lady.” Despite all his might, Arthur seemed suddenly vulnerable. “For I will stay with you, or not at all.”
A hush fell over the room. But was there any doubt? Well, not so long ago when she thought he was an arrogant Neanderthal—but she knew him better now. Her whole soul was singing the answer out loud.
“Then stay, Arthur,” she murmured, smiling though her tears. “Stay here with me and build a new life. It might not be as exciting as your old one, but at least I can promise it will be more interesting than a quiet, pleasant and no doubt boring existence on that island.”
Arthur put his strong arms around her and pulled her against his broad chest. “I cannot imagine that any life shared with you would be boring, Morgan.” He grinned, his teeth gleaming white against his ruddy skin. “Annoying, aggravating, and frustrating, yes. But boring? Never.”
She tried to pull one arm free to whack him, but he just laughed and kissed her soundly. All their friends applauded wildly and she even saw a small smile on Crystal’s wan face.
Behind them, Merlin cleared his throat. Arthur and Morgan swung around to face him, expecting him to say something wise and portentous, as befitted such a momentous decision.
“That’s wonderful,” the wizard said. “I am very happy for you both. Can we eat now? Did I mention there’s going to be guacamole?”
Morgan gave a very small sigh. Oh, well. Arthur was going to have to put up with her quirky friends. She supposed she could put up with his.
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning, Morgan, Arthur and the remaining members of the coven boarded a plane back to Albany. Merlin insisted on staying for a few more days and spent most of his time sitting out by the pool working on sketches for some sort of energy-saving invention. He liked the idea of being Morgan’s “save the world guy” after all, and assured them that once he’d finished the designs and found someone savvy in Silicon Valley to build them, he’d come out to the east coast to visit with Arthur.
Morgan was a little dubious about Merlin traveling on his own (wizard or not, he’d never actually flown), but Michael promised he’d accompany the old magician, since he had to go back home at some point to shut down his store and arrange for his belongings to be shipped to California.
So they bid a grateful goodbye to Morgan Fairchild and headed back home to see what kind of trouble Granny, Young Angus, and ET had gotten into while the rest of them were away. Morgan wasn’t sure which one of the three worried her the most.
Everything seemed fine as they drove into the driveway, though. The house was still standing, there were no police cars idling out front and none of the neighbors appeared to complain about strange noises in the middle of the night. (Morgan had had to deal with the last two on one of Granny’s previous visits. Hence the concern.)
If anything, the house was too quiet. Davis, Lewis, Charlotte and Clarice had all gone straight home from the airport, but Crystal had gone home with Arthur and Morgan. She was still pale and strangely subdued after her release from Mortimer’s love spell, and Morgan wanted her grandmother to do one of her special magical check-ups before they sent Crystal back to her apartment.
They walked into the living room at about seven in the evening, expecting Granny to be eating her dinner off a tray in front of the television. She rarely missed an episode of Entertainment Tonight when she was in the country. But the room was empty.
No Granny. No mangy black dog. No humongous orange cat. The remains of a large pizza sat next to a book on a table in front of the futon, bearing what looked suspiciously like three different sized teeth marks, but no evidence of the whereabouts of those who had been eating it.
Morgan was starting to worry.
“Granny?” she called. Then again, a little louder, “Granny, where are you?”
Could something have happened to her grandmother? She wasn’t a young woman, after all. What if she’d had a heart attack? Or worse—what if Mortimer had somehow made his way back here and taken his revenge for Merlin turning Fay into a ferret?
Her heart pounding, Morgan ran from room to room, trailed by Arthur and Crystal, but there was no sign of Granny or the two animals.
“Morgan?” Arthur’s good-natured face creased with shared anxiety. “You do not think she would have gone back to Scotland without telling you?”
Morgan shook her head. Of course they had called Granny to let her know the crisis was over, but she’d planned to wait for them to get back so she could spend some time with Morgan before returning to her own country.
Suddenly, Morgan heard a strange noise from the kitchen. At first she couldn’t identify it, but then she recognized it as the sound of Crystal’s laughter. It was a relief to hear it, but what on earth could Crystal be finding so amusing when they were all supposed to be searching for Morgan’s missing grandmother?
Morgan and Arthur raced side by side toward the kitchen (getting jammed together as they tried to squeeze through the doorway at the same time) and entered to see Crystal looking out the back window and laughing so hard she had tears streaming down her face.
As they neared the window, Morgan tried to see w
hat it was that so entertained her seriously depressed friend. It was, indeed, quite a sight.
Granny stood underneath the gnarled oak tree at the back of the yard, teetering on a stepladder. At the base of the tree sat a miffed looking ET, tail puffed out and fangs barred in a growl. And about seven feet up in the tree, at the end of one thin branch, sat the squat black form of Young Angus, his tartan sweater snagged and snarled.
Morgan ran out the back door, trying not to laugh at the absurd sight of a cat having treed a dog, and pulled her grandmother off the ladder before she could fall and break something (probably the ladder—she was one tough old lady). She gave the old woman a huge hug that was three parts love and one part exasperation.
“Goddess, Granny, we’ve been looking all over the house for you! We thought something terrible had happened.” Morgan said, giving her elderly relative a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.
Granny hugged her back, then pushed her granddaughter away irritably. “I’d say something terrible happened, all right,” she said pointing up the tree. “Yer danged giant of a cat chased my poor innocent puppy up this monster of a tree, and I canna get him back down.”
She aimed a kick at ET, who dodged it easily, still growling up at Young Angus.
“My pur baby,” Granny said, her accent thicker than usual. “He’ll probably fall out on his head and kill himself.”
Morgan tried to stop laughing long enough to pretend to scold ET. She bent down and said, “Shame on you, you big bully. Next time, pick on someone your own size.” He immediately stopped growling and started purring, happy to have his person back.
Arthur chuckled. “Is there anyone his own size?” He looked up at Angus, sitting quivering on the end of the branch. The limb seemed to quake in time with the dog, and an occasional leaf drifted to the ground.
“Granny,” he asked, attempting to stifle his own laughter, “how did Young Angus end up in the tree? I would not have thought it was possible.”
Morgan gave her grandmother a suspicious look. “And it isn’t like ET to be that aggressive with no reason. He may be big, but he’s usually pretty mellow.”
“Lazy, more like,” Crystal added. She’d had lots of experience with the big cat over the years. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him chase anything that didn’t involve food.”
Granny looked at the ground and scratched the tip of her nose. “Well…there might have been a wee disagreement about who was going ta have the last piece of pizza.”
“You gave my cat pizza!” Morgan yelped indignantly. “You’re going to make him sick!”
The old woman curled her lip. “Oh, please. Yesterday the danged cat ate spaghetti and meatballs and he was as happy as a clam.” She gestured at the two animals in turn. “They’ve both got cast iron stomachs, those two. They just don’t share well, is all.”
“Oh, goddess,” Morgan shook her head. “I should have stayed in California. I could be sitting by the pool with Merlin right now, sipping a wine spritzer and working on my tan.”
“Ach, don’t be silly,” Granny said. “You can work on yer tan all ye want here.” She paused briefly. “Although I did finish off the last of your wine. Sorry about that.”
Arthur chuckled at the two of them and nudged ET gently in the direction of the house with his foot.
“Go on inside, you great dog chaser, you,” he said. “You have made your point, I think.” As ET sauntered off looking smug, no doubt on his way to claim the remnants of the pizza, Arthur reached up with his long arms and plucked the trembling dog down from his improbable perch and handed him to his owner.
“There you are, Madam Granny,” he said with a bow. “Young Angus, safe and sound.”
Granny gave him a huge smile, revealing one gold tooth at the very back.
“Ach, ye really are a hero, Arthur, King of the Britons,” she said gaily. “I’m glad ye decided to stay with us instead of going back to some dull island full of druids.”
Morgan put her arm around him and gave him a hug, smiling up at his handsome face. “I second the motion. Clearly I need you around to handle these tough, dangerous situations.” She batted her eyelashes at him in mock flirtation. “My hero, the dog rescuer.”
Arthur scowled down at the two of them and at Crystal, snickering next to Granny.
“Is this what my life is going to be like now? Breaking up quarrels between animals?” he asked. “Because I had enough of that back when I presided over the Round Table.”
Morgan shook her head. “Oh, please. Wait until you see the Senate. You’ll be longing for the days when you were keeping your knights from beating each other to death for fun.”
Arthur looked pensive and Granny chuckled.
“Don’t you worry, Your Majesty. It’ll all come out right in the end, I promise.”
Crystal sighed. “I wish you could say that for me, Granny.” A tear hovered at the corner of one eye, breaking Morgan’s heart. “I understand why the coven had to leave me under Mortimer’s spell, and I’m glad they did it. But I still feel like I’ve lost the love of my life, even though I know it wasn’t real.”
Granny got a faraway gleam in her cloudy eyes and a sly smile hovered at the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t ye worry none, lass,” she said. “Ye haven’t met the true love of yer life yet. But ye will, I promise. And when ye do, ye’ll forget all about that weasel, Mortimer.” She gave a witchy cackle and Morgan narrowed her eyes in a suspicious glower.
“What do you know, old woman?” she asked.
“Yes, Granny, what do you know?” Crystal said, eagerly, suddenly looking more like her usual optimistic self.
Granny shrugged and looked mysterious. “Let’s just say I think ye should consider going back to Scotland with me when I leave. A change of scenery would do ye good.”
Morgan and Crystal exchanged confused glances.
“Huh?” Morgan said.
“Scotland?” Crystal added. “I don’t want to go to Scotland.”
“Oh, yes ye do,” Granny said. “Ye just don’t know it yet.” And on that note, she marched straight-backed into the house to watch television.
Chapter Thirty-Two
On the day, one week later, when Merlin and Michael were flying into town, Morgan and Granny spent the entire day cooking a fancy dinner and they invited the entire coven over to share it with them.
Davis had offered to pick the men up at the airport so Morgan wouldn’t have to leave the kitchen mid-preparation, and he beeped his horn twice as he pulled into the driveway with his passengers. Morgan put her wooden spoon down and headed for the front door, tugging her grandmother after her.
“I can’t believe I’m finally going to get to meet the famous Merlin,” Granny said, glee creasing the wrinkles on her face. “I’m still peeved I missed all the fun out there in California.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. Her grandmother had been complaining about the fact that everyone had gotten to meet Merlin except her since they’d gotten back from Hollywood. The old lady still hadn’t forgiven Morgan for leaving her behind while the rest of the gang had gotten to go off and have an adventure.
Morgan opened the door and gave a shout of joy at seeing Michael. It had only been a week since she’d seen him last, but she’d already started to miss him. She didn’t know how she was going to stand having her best friend all the way across the country. Then Arthur draped his muscular arm across her shoulders and she remembered there might be a few things to distract her from Michael’s absence.
Michael hugged her, then Arthur, and then went into the living room to be mobbed by the rest of the coven. Davis followed him in, leaving Merlin standing in the hallway, surprisingly hesitant.
Arthur clasped the magician’s hand and greeted him warmly. “I am glad to see you, old friend,” he said somberly. “I hope you did not find the flight too alarming.” His face paled as he remembered his own travels by air.
The older man’s face lit up. “On the contrary, I enjoyed it immens
ely! Such a remarkable achievement, flight. I never would have thought it possible.”
“This from a man who turns people into ferrets,” Arthur said, his left eyebrow raised an inch or so.
Merlin chuckled. “Let’s not exaggerate. I’ve only ever turned one person into a ferret. Most of the time I prefer the classics, like toads or lapdogs.”
At his feet, Young Angus gave a yelp and raced out of the room.
“What did I say?” Merlin asked, giving Morgan and Arthur a puzzled look.
Morgan gazed suspiciously at her grandmother, who endeavored to look completely innocent.
“Granny,” Morgan said, crossing her arms, “please tell me that Young Angus is just a dog.”
“Dinna be ridiculous,” Granny responded, her long nose twitching. “Calling the wee lad ‘just a dog’ is downright insulting.” She turned her back on her granddaughter and held her hand out to Merlin. “Dinna mind the girl, she’s got no manners at all. I’m Morgan’s granny, Brigid, and it’s pleased as punch I am to finally meet ye.”
Merlin took her hand and bowed over it, placing a kiss gracefully on her fingertips. Granny blushed and giggled girlishly.
“And I am most pleased to meet you as well, Madam,” Merlin said. “I have heard many wonderful things about you, but apparently everyone forgot to mention how beautiful you are.” He shook his finger at Morgan. “You might have warned me, young lady.”
Granny tittered. “Oh, please. Call me Brigid.” She took her hand back and held it against her breast. “And they might have warned me that you were a big flirt.”
Arthur shook his head disbelievingly. “I swear to you, Madam Granny, I have never seen the man behave like this before. It must be your doing. You have not cast a spell on him, have you?”
“If she has,” Merlin said gallantly, “it was only the spell of her grace and loveliness.” He held out his arm. “Shall we go join the others, Brigid?”
Granny took off the apron she was wearing and handed it to her granddaughter.
King Me! Page 24
