“Looks like I’m off kitchen duty,” she said heading into the living room with Merlin. “After all, someone needs to pour the drinks for our guests.”
Arthur and Morgan watched them leave with matching looks of amazement. They stood for a moment listening to the sounds of merriment coming from the other room.
“What just happened here?” Arthur asked Morgan. “And what have you done with the old, grumpy Merlin with whom I was so well acquainted?”
“Got me,” Morgan shrugged helplessly, torn between laughter and worry. “I never saw my grandmother act that way either. She’s like a giddy schoolgirl. If the schoolgirl in question was eighty years old and a witch.”
Arthur shook his head. “Well, Merlin always did have a soft spot for Scottish women. And Scottish liquor, but he cannot have the latter because of his allergies. Wizards and alcohol do not mix well.” He gave a shudder.
“Then thank the gods I’m not a wizard,” Morgan said gratefully. “Because I have a feeling I’m going to need a really large drink to get through the rest of this evening.”
Dinner was a huge success. Everyone but Merlin drank copious amounts of wine and ate massive amounts of food. The rack of lamb Granny’d slaved over in Merlin’s honor was a great success, and there was even a Tofurkey for Michael, the vegetarian. Arthur remarked at one point that even his head cook at the castle had never put on a more impressive feast, making Granny’s face light up like the full moon on a clear night.
Lewis had them in stitches doing his imitation of an indignant Mortimer, and Granny made them tell the story of their confrontation with Fay LeBeau again from start to finish, with Merlin adding in the bits he’d been responsible for.
Even Crystal managed to look like she was having a good time, although Morgan could tell she was still feeling blue about her faux-romance. Maybe Granny was right about her needing a change of scenery, Morgan thought. It had to be hard for Crystal to be here, watching Morgan and Arthur falling more in love every day.
Eventually they had all had eaten as much as humanly (or felinely and caninely) possible and they all trooped into the living room and sprawled on the furniture in various poses of satiated repose. Granny flicked the television on in passing.
“Granny!” Morgan scolded. “Do we really have to have that thing on every minute that you’re here? We have guests.”
“Tut, tut,” the old woman responded. “They won’t mind. And ye know I can’t get any shows nearly as interesting as yours back home in Scotland.” She perched on the couch next to Merlin and flicked through a few channels.
“Oh, look—there’s Arthur!” she said, turning the sound up.
Merlin peered at the screen. “Why, so it is,” he agreed. “What are you doing on the television, Arthur?”
Morgan snorted. “Oh, that’s the interview they did with him after he helped defend a woman who was chained to a tree. Every time the governor shows some sign of coming to a decision about who he’s going to name to the Senate seat, they haul that sucker back out again.”
Arthur smiled ruefully. “Mr. Snodgrass calls it ‘the sound bite gift from heaven,’ but it hardly seems spiritual to me.”
“Well,” explained Davis trying to help, “you might think of politics as Mr. Snodgrass’s religion. In which case, anything that helps his cause—or, in this case, your cause—probably seems spiritual to him.”
Morgan watched Arthur talking to the perky bleached blonde reporter on the television screen until the clip was over. She’d never admit it, but she thought he looked awfully impressive in the interview; strong and masterful but also sincere and polite, a combination you rarely saw in politics. It didn’t hurt that he was so handsome, either. She couldn’t believe he was actually hers. Of course, if he got that Senate seat, she’d be sharing him with a whole lot of other people.
Once the newscaster who was showing the clip spent another five minutes telling the audience in a roundabout way that he had nothing of substance to report, Granny muted the sound and tossed the remote to the side for the moment.
“So, Yer Majesty,” she asked, head tilted to the side like a little white-haired bird, “what will ye do with yerself if it turns out the governor does not choose ye for the position?” She looked mischievously at Morgan out of the corner of her eye. “Stay home and be a house-husband?”
Morgan choked on her coffee. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Arthur sitting around the house watching soap operas and vacuuming.
Arthur looked pensive. “I have thought on it at some length,” he admitted. “I am not certain what role I would be suited to play in this world if I cannot have the one that seems to fit me so well.”
“You’ve got that great English accent,” Charlotte said. Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe you could be a butler.”
“A butler?” Arthur was not familiar with the term.
Morgan threw a cookie across the room at her friend, who caught it effortlessly and popped it in her mouth. ET and Young Angus both leapt to attention, then sank back down when it was clear that no more treats would be sailing by.
“A butler is someone who takes care of a rich man’s house; he answers the door, manages the household staff, things like that,” Morgan explained. “On TV they usually have English accents.”
“A servant!” Arthur looked indignant. “I think not.”
Fueled by wine and each other’s silliness, the rest of the coven chimed in with other suggestions for career choices for Arthur.
“What about acting?” Michael suggested. “He could play any role—as long as it’s royalty.”
Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Or he could go into professional wrestling,” Clarice said. She had a strange fascination with the sport. “We could make him a cool costume with a crown on the front!”
Morgan decided she wasn’t even going to attempt to explain professional wrestling to Arthur and Merlin. She wasn’t sure she could.
Lewis jumped up and down and waved his hand in the air. “Ooh, ooh! I know!”
Everyone turned expectantly to see what his bright idea was.
“He’s big and tall and really strong, right?” Lewis said, pointing out the obvious. “He could be—“ he paused for effect—“a lumberjack!”
Morgan and the others immediately broke into the song from Monty Python. “Oh, I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay. I sleep all night and I work all day!” They made it through about two verses and collapsed into hysterical laughter.
Arthur looked mystified and Merlin and Granny exchanged “well, they’re young, what can you expect” looks. Young Angus howled until they stopped singing, then lay down with his paws over his eyes.
“This is all very helpful,” Arthur said sternly, “but surely you could come up with ideas for my future that don’t cause quite so much mirth.”
Davis snickered and shook his head. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But apparently, you’d be wrong.”
And they all fell about laughing again. Morgan thought it was partially the wine and the lateness of the hour, but mostly just relief that they were all safe and together again, even if for a short time.
A moment later, as she was trying to justify their juvenile behavior to Arthur (and making more useful suggestions like working with troubled youth as a mentor), the doorbell rang. Everyone fell silent.
“Who would be calling on ye at this time of night?” Granny asked crossly. “If it is those persnickety neighbors of yours complaining about the noise again, I swear I’ll turn them into toads this time for sure.”
“Now, Madam Granny,” Arthur said, getting up to walk to the door with Morgan, “let us see who it is before you do anything hasty.”
“It’s too late in the day for that kind of magic, anyway,” Merlin added. “I find when I am over-tired those type of spells tend to go awry. I once tried to turn an overly rambunctious knight into a rooster, and he ended up as a bale of hay. I turned him right back, of course, but I never did figure out where I went wrong.”
Granny subsided reluctantly, but perked up again when Morgan and Arthur walked back into the room with Charles Snodgrass. The others all looked suddenly more alert as well. Clearly the kingmaker wouldn’t have come over this late in the evening unless he had big news.
“Ah, I seem to have interrupted a party,” the politico said. “I apologize, but I thought Arthur should hear this from me before it shows up on the eleven o’clock news.”
Morgan glanced at Arthur and wasn’t surprised to see him looking tense and nervous. It wouldn’t have been obvious to most people, but she knew him well enough by now to recognize the tightening around his eyes and rigid posture for what they were.
She put an arm around him and whispered, “Everything’s going to be fine. I know it will.”
Arthur smiled at her, but she saw the strain. He didn’t fool her for a minute. For a split second, she selfishly wished the answer would be no; it would make their lives so much simpler if Arthur wasn’t a public figure with the demands that went with such a position. If he was a Senator, she would always have to worry that someone would somehow find out the truth of his origins.
She sighed inside, removing her arm from his waist and grasping one of his large hands in hers instead. His hand was cold and clammy and she gripped it tighter to send the message that he was not alone. Really, she didn’t care if he ran the whole country—she just wanted him to be happy. If that meant she had to be a Senator’s consort, she’d just learn to live with it.
“Well?” she demanded of Snodgrass. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell us what’s happened? Has the governor finally made up his mind?”
Snodgrass nodded and then let a tiny smile creep across his somber face.
“Indeed he did, Ms. Fairfax,” Snodgrass stated. “You are standing next to the new Junior Senator from the great state of New York.” He looked at Arthur with something like amazement in his eyes. “Apparently all the lobbyists I arranged for him to talk to last week called the Governor and told him that they only way they would sit down together and talk about the environmental issues was if Arthur was at the table.”
The coven members all cheered and there was a lot of hugging and backslapping for a minute. Granny grinned from one side of her wrinkled face to the other and Merlin patted Arthur repeatedly on the arm.
“See there, lad,” the magician said, “I always said you were born to be a leader. Even a few centuries can’t change that.”
Snodgrass looked over at Merlin questioningly and then shook his head, clearly dismissing him as a crazy old man. Morgan laughed quietly behind one hand.
“That should do for now. I’ll be back in the morning to discuss the details with you, Arthur,” Snodgrass said on his way back out the door. “I just wanted to come by and give you the good news in person.”
He paused, giving Arthur a long look with his steely eyes. “I see great things in your future, Arthur King. You have some wonderful ideas for improving people’s lives, and the charisma to actually make them happen.” Patting his slight paunch in satisfaction, he added, “You know, in some ways you remind me of the Kennedy boys. Have you ever considered buying an estate and naming it Camelot?”
When laughter rang out in the hallway, Snodgrass just looked confused and decided it would be best to make a quiet exit. Arthur King would make a wonderful Senator, he thought to himself, but he certainly had some odd friends.
Chapter Thirty-Three
A few days later, Morgan hauled her grandmother’s giant trunk into the hallway. Young Angus was already tucked into his travel crate, to ET’s great relief. He’d had enough of that furry menace to last him for the rest of his nine lives.
“Are you sure you have everything?” she asked for the fourth time. “You have all the tickets and your passport?”
Granny patted her cheek lovingly. “Darlin’ if ye ask me that one more time, I’ll let Young Angus out to bite ye. I promise; I have everything I need.” She gave her granddaughter a kiss to take the sting out of her words.
Morgan could feel her eyes filling with tears. She felt this way every time Granny came to visit and then left again. The woman was so old, each time Morgan was afraid it would be the last time she’d see her alive and well.
“Ach, don’t ye fret,” her grandmother said kindly. “I love ye too, ye know. And I’ll miss ye somethin’ terrible, I will. But we’ll see each other again, I promise.”
Morgan looked her in the eyes. “Are you sure?”
The old woman gazed back at her without blinking. “Aye dear, I am quite sure. In fact, I predict we’ll be back together again before the year is out. And don’t ye worry about your friend Crystal. I’ll take good care of the lass, don’t ye doubt it.”
“And what about me, Brigid,” Merlin asked, dragging a much smaller bag of his own into the already crowded space. “Will you take good care of me as well?” A mischievous glint lit up his fathomless dark eyes.
Granny winked at him. “That I will, Merlin, that I will.”
Arthur edged his large body in next to his old friend. “I cannot believe you are running off to Scotland already. You only just got here and we barely had any time to spend together, what with Snodgrass and his incessant briefing sessions.”
“Why do you think I am leaving?” Merlin laughed. Then he winked back at Granny. “Aside from the chance to accompany this lovely lady back to the land of my birth.”
“You were born in Scotland?” Crystal said with surprise, standing outside on the doorstep. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well, it was a long time ago,” Merlin said a little sadly. “It is not as though I have any friends there now.”
“Ach, and if ye have us, why would ye need anyone else?” Granny nudged him with one scrawny hip.
Morgan started moving everyone out the door. “Enough with the flirting, old woman. You’ll all miss your plane if we don’t get a move on.”
Despite her firm words, though, she stopped by the car to hug her grandmother again, although no doubt she’d do it three or four more times before the flight actually took off.
She gave her favorite relative a soggy smile. “I feel kind of bad, sending you back to your quiet little corner of Scotland after all the excitement here. I hope it isn’t too dull for you once you’re back home.” She worried sometimes that the old woman didn’t have enough going on in her life to occupy her active mind and spirit.
Granny looked at Merlin and then at Crystal and a sly smile creased her face.
“Ach, don’t ye fret, lass,” the old Witch said with a knowing grin, “I have a feeling that things will be plenty interesting once we get back to Scotland.” She chortled quietly. “Very interesting indeed.”
THE END
About the Author
Deborah Blake is the award-winning author of the Baba Yaga and Broken Rider paranormal romance series and the Veiled Magic urban fantasies from Berkley.
Deborah has also written The Goddess is in the Details, Everyday Witchcraft and numerous other books from Llewellyn, along with popular tarot and oracle decks. She has published articles in Llewellyn annuals, and her ongoing column, “Everyday Witchcraft” is featured in Witches & Pagans Magazine.
Deborah can be found online at Facebook, Twitter, her popular blog (Writing the Witchy Way), and www.deborahblakeauthor.com She lives in a 130 year old farmhouse in rural upstate New York with various cats who supervise all her activities, both magical and mundane.
Other Books by Deborah Blake:
Baba Yaga and Broken Rider Series
Wickedly Magical (Baba Yaga novella – prequel)
Wickedly Dangerous (Baba Yaga book 1)
Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga book 2)
Wickedly Ever After (Baba Yaga novella 2.5)
Wickedly Powerful (Baba Yaga book 3)
Dangerously Charming (Broken Riders book 1)
Wickedly Spirited (Baba Yaga novella 3.5)
Dangerously Divine (Broken Riders book 2)
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Dangerously Fierce (Broken Riders book 3)
Dangerously Driven (Broken Riders novella 3.5)
Wickedly Unraveled (Baba Yaga book 4)
Tiny Treasures: A Short Collection of Short Stories
Veiled Magic series
Veiled Magic
Veiled Menace
Veiled Enchantments
Standalone Books
Witch Ever Way You Can
Reinventing Ruby
King Me
Llewellyn Nonfiction books and decks
Circle, Coven & Grove
Everyday Witch A to Z
The Goddess is in the Details
Everyday Witch A to Z Spellbook
Everyday Witch Book of Rituals
Witchcraft on a Shoestring
The Witch’s Broom
A Year and a Day of Everyday Witchcraft
Everyday Witchcraft
The Little Book of Cat Magic
Everyday Witch Tarot Deck
Everyday Witch Oracle Deck
King Me! Page 25
