I cannot do this thing to you, Master—
Do it!
But Beatrice… She will die. She is no more than a child… Taliesin pictured the young English girl whose life he had saved in Tangier. For what had he saved it? To take it away for his own uses, like one of the black magicians' sacrifices?
He had never taken a wife. He had never had a family, or enjoyed the simple, profound pleasures of an ordinary man's life. He had given up these things without a thought, because what he possessed in their place had always been of greater importance.
He had the magic.
You became the Merlin, Beatrice had told him. Beatrice, who did not even know whose magnificent soul she carried within her. Yet she had asked the great question: Was it enough?
That question had been a test, he knew now, as the Innocent had always known.
Was the magic enough to give up the life of another for it, the physical life of one whom he had loved for sixteen centuries? The Innocent had been his master, his friend, his mother. It was she who had taught him the mysteries of the druids, and the magic of the immortals. She had given him everything, made him everything he was. She had come back from death itself, from far beyond the Summer Country, to be with him.
And now she was asking him to send her into death again, for the sake of the magic.
Was it enough? Was it?
No, he thought. It would never, ever, be enough for that.
Then you betray the gods who entrusted you with their existence, for it was through you that they died, and only you can bring them back.
Through me? How could they have died through me?
Their assassin was your son, conceived during the rite of Beltane. He has come back here, to this very place, to complete the circle, as you must… if you are strong enough.
My son? Through eyes glazed with shock and horror, Taliesin watched the dark magician perform the first incantations upon him. This evil beast?
Thanatos. His name is Thanatos, god of death.
My son...
Use my power to close the circle.
Please! Do not—
I have come into this life only for this moment. I have come to offer you my gift, and you must take it, Merlin, for Merlin you truly are.
Oh, Innocent, what you ask of me!
A force like a thunderbolt entered through the top of his head and surged through his body.
Take my fire, take it, and with it light the world.
Her voice fell silent.
The old man knew what he had to do.
With tears streaming down his face, Taliesin raised himself up off the floor to his full height until he stood rigid, filled to bursting with the Innocent's profound energy. The cords binding his arms and chest fell away like ash. "I will do as you bid me, Master," he whispered.
The power exploded within him. He felt it burning from the inside out, a force like the fire of a thousand suns, searing away his thoughts, his emotions, his soul itself. Taliesin stepped out of the vortex of the dark spell and quelled it with a gesture. Then, fixing his gaze on Thanatos and his sorcerers, he made a sound like the roar of the sea.
Aubrey looked up from his work, startled. The magicians with him cowered, shielding their faces. The curved dagger flew out of Aubrey's hand to shatter against the wall. The bowls of blood and other accoutrements of ritual smashed to fragments. The carcasses of the dead animals that had encircled the old man scattered to the corners of the room as if a great wind had swept them away. The blood on the floor was blasted clean. The candles blew out, leaving the room in darkness except for an eerie, otherworldly glow that surrounded Taliesin like a halo. The magic burst like starlight from him.
He was the Merlin.
"The cup," he commanded.
Inside Aubrey's sleeve, the metal sphere glowed red, burning through the fabric of his robe until he cried out in pain, his garment ablaze. As he struggled to put out the flames, the cup floated over Kate's body, then came to rest upon the great wound that had stilled her heart.
Immediately her flesh knitted, the skin growing smooth over the place where the deep marks of the pentagram had been. She opened her eyes. Her cracked lips moved.
"Mother, bring us life from death," she whispered, holding the cup in her hands like precious water. She sat up, transfixed. "Mother bring us..."
"... life from death," the Merlin finished, understanding the prayer at last. This was why the Innocent had given him her power. For this single moment, when the destiny of mankind would change forever, healed by a cup which had been forged in the depths of the universe by the ancient gods.
It was their time to live again.
"Mother, bring us life from death," he breathed.
Kate repeated the words. "Mother, bring us life from death."
Aubrey lunged at them. A wall of fire rose to stop him. Gasping, the black magicians recoiled into the shadows, fleeing from the flames that licked at them.
"Mother, bring us life from death."
Kate stared, slack-jawed, at the inferno rising up around her. "M—mother, bring us life from death."
The magicians scrambled for the ladder leading out of the building, tearing at one another like wounded vultures, but the fire was always a step ahead, extending, traveling where the Merlin bade it, encircling them finally in a ring of fear.
"Mother, bring us life from death."
"Mother..." Kate staggered backward. Along the far wall, a long human bone was slowly ascending toward the ceiling.
Mother bring us life from death
The earthen floor beneath them shook.
Mother bring us life from death
The Merlin closed his eyes. The prayer came no longer from him, but from the earth itself. The souls of the dead gods had stirred at last.
Mother bring us life from death
Mother bring us life from death
It grew louder, reverberating through the chamber, thundering. The black magicians quaked behind their wall of fire as Merlin called out the names of the vanished gods:
"Mithras! Cerridwen! Arianrhod!" he shouted. "Hearken to me, for I am the Merlin come to resurrect you with the souls of the long faithful! Rise, Scathach, Mannannan, Dagda, Bran! Rise, LlewLlaw Gyffs, Eostre, and the Cailliach! Selene, Gwion, Elphin, Forgall, rise, for the wheel has turned and your time has come at last!"
With a keening wail, the walls began to craze and crumble. Huge cracks appeared in the old stone masonry, and from them poured forms like zephyrs, the ghosts of the desecrated dead. They had been druids, each of them, killed as the old gods themselves had been killed, by the followers of the darkness. Their bodies had been defiled, their bones brought from their sacred island across the ocean to this subterranean place; but their souls were free now. Sighing, they rose, reaching up with skeletal fingers, flying upward, filling the room, twisting like smoke among the screaming black magicians.
Kate had fallen to her knees, shaking with fear, her hands clutching the cup that had brought her life back to her. Taliesin lifted her gently. His touch was cold as ice.
"Take everyone out of the building," he said.
She offered him the cup. "The Grail," she said. "This belongs to you." With a final look at the old man and the terrifying magic he had conjured, she ran toward the ladder and climbed up.
Around him swirled the chaos he had wrought. By sacrificing the Innocent, he had brought about the rebirth of the gods. It was the greatest magic he had ever known. He regarded the cup in his hand. The Holy Grail, vessel of eternal life, a suitable possession for the Merlin.
He tossed it on the floor. There was nothing more of life he wanted.
Yes, he thought, this was a fitting way to die.
Facing the magicians who had brought him here, he spoke in a voice like the wind: "Now we shall go into the void together, we killers of the holy ones."
The walls bellied in. First a trickle of earth, dry as sand, seeped from behind the foundations of the building. Then it poured in
to the room, throwing up billows of dust, the deep cracks splitting open with a sound like thunder.
The magicians shrieked. The fire that had surrounded them spread to the ceiling, evading the inrushing earth. They scrambled for the ladder, but it was too late. The timbers supporting the structure cracked with a boom and caved in.
Through the rising dust and flames, Taliesin saw Aubrey Katsuleris crawling toward him.
"My son," the old man rasped, choking in the unbreathable air. "Come die beside me, Thanatos, so that we may be judged together." He sank to the floor, gasping. "Our crime was the same, you know. We both killed her, you in your time, and I in mine." He laughed bitterly. "What a fine joke the gods have played on us both."
Then the last of the beams gave way and the building folded in on itself, filling the room with brick and rubble.
Chapter Forty
Dr. Shanipati was still in attendance when Beatrice called Arthur's name.
"That's her brother, I think," the nurse said. "He's outside."
"Bring him, bring him in quickly," Shanipati ordered, scribbling in his notebook. He had never seen such a thing, even with the yogi. The girl had spoken, spoken— positively a beta wave function—while the EEG still registered in the theta range. "Are you certain this is working correctly?" he asked when the nurse returned. He tapped the monitor hesitantly with his index finger.
"I wouldn't know. Would you like me to call a technician to check it?"
"Yes, please. Do that." He looked at the young boy in the doorway. "You are named Arthur?" he asked.
The boy nodded.
"Please." The doctor gestured for him to come by the bed. "I think she is asking for you. Of this I cannot be certain, however, because..." He looked up at the monitor, still reading intense theta activity, then at the boy, and decided it would be too difficult to explain. He moved to the chair at the foot of the bed. "Go ahead. I will not disturb you."
Arthur bit his lip as he approached Beatrice. "I think the old man's in trouble," he said softly. "I have to help him, but I can't leave you here because..." He stole a glance at the doctor. "Well, you just have to take my word for it, you've got to wake up. We can't do anything until you wake up." He shook her. "Oh, please come back, Bea. He needs us bad."
Shanipati grabbed hold of his wrists. "You must not touch her!" he cried out. "She is in a very delicate state. If you disturb—"
"Leave him alone." Beatrice opened her eyes. They were milk-white.
Babbling in a torrent of Hindi, Dr. Shanipati leaned over her with an opthalmascope. This was impossible, he thought, quite certainly impossible! He had examined her eyes not a half hour earlier, and there had been no trace of blindness then. Yet these were the eyes of an individual who had been sightless from birth. A very old individual at that, judging from the retinal scarring. Very old...
"Do go away, Rasheesh. No one will believe this report of yours, anyway," she said with the voice of an old woman.
Shanipati fell back, scattering the notes he had left on his chair. "What did you say?" he asked in a whisper.
"You've been trying for centuries to convince people that there's more to them than flesh and bones, but they've never believed you." She waved her hand at him idly. "That's just as well. It is not important to prove the existence of the soul." She smiled. "All that matters is to perceive it."
"All that… One moment, please. I wish to write that down." He bent to pick up his papers.
"Come quickly, Arthur." Beatrice waggled her fingers. "Time is short, and I must be certain that you know what to do before I say good-bye."
"Good-bye?" the boy whispered. "But you can't—"
"Shh. I can do whatever I like. Everything is possible, child. Try to remember that." She clasped his hand. "Now listen to me. A great deal of trouble has been taken to bring you back into the world and keep you here, but now things are up to you. What you do, how you live from this moment on will be of immense consequence. Do you understand?"
He took a moment to find his voice. "Yes," he answered. "I know who I am."
"Good. Taliesin did a fine job." She smiled at him. "This is your time, Arthur. The wheel of destiny has come full circle, and you are at its center." She closed her eyes, then opened them again slowly. "I'm afraid living is getting to be rather too much of an effort for me."
"Bea!” his voice broke. "Bea, don't die. Please don't die..."
"Remember how to be a king, and how to be a man. Be strong. Do good. Bring honor to your soul."
With a soft sigh, she lay back on the pillow. The EKG above her registered a flat line.
"Nurse!" Shanipati shouted, knocking Arthur out of the way to begin resuscitation procedures on his patient. "Call at once for defibrillators!" He glanced at the monitor. What he saw there nearly caused his hands to still. Within seconds, every life sign registered by the bank of machines had ceased, with the exception of one: Beatrice's theta wave was still coming through as a dense, fast-moving band.
The doctor continued to pump her chest while his eyes remained transfixed on the monitor, watching the evidence of a mind functioning without a body.
"Crash cart's coming," the nurse announced. "Son, you'll have to wait outside—"
"Be quiet!" Shanipati snapped. The nurse left the room.
Arthur moved silently to Beatrice's side while the neurologist struggled to revive her. Above them both, Beatrice's theta wave continued to expand until it filled the monitor. As they watched, a light appeared in the center of the black screen and then grew to fill it, a light so intense that they both had to shut their eyes and turn away to keep from being blinded.
Shanipati shouted something in Hindi. Arthur picked up Beatrice's hand and held it tight while the light burned through the room like lightning.
Then, in an instant, it was gone.
The monitor beeped. Eight functions appeared, all normal. There was no theta wave.
Beatrice sat up. "Oh, dear," she said. "We're not at Planet Ice Cream, are we?"
Equally stunned, Shanipati and Arthur looked at each another as the crash cart lumbered in, accompanied by the usual army of doctors, nurses, technicians, and students.
Dr. Coles was among them. Holding a pair of electric paddles, he approached Beatrice, frowning in bewilderment. "Are we in the right place?" he asked.
Shanipati flicked on his opthalmascope and peered into Beatrice's eyes. "She can see," he whispered. He turned toward Dr. Coles. "A most extraordinary recovery." He bounded toward the electroencephalogram. "I will show you on the printout. The patient, as you recall, was comatose..." While he was speaking, Coles gestured for the resuscitation team to leave.
"That was a monster zone-out," Arthur said quietly into Beatrice's ear. "You sounded like an old lady—"
"I saw her, Arthur! She's the one I always dreamed about. Only this time she didn't tell me I was going to die. She said she doesn't need me anymore." Beatrice looked at their hands, still entwined.
Arthur blushed, disengaging himself. "Well, now that you're okay, we've got to get out of here, and I mean right now." He peered over her shoulder at the two doctors conversing with one another. "I'll explain everything to you on the way. You can walk, can't you?"
Beatrice nodded.
"Can you run?"
Shanipati was tossing the unscrolled printout over his head like a lunatic. "There! You see? Heart rate zero. But the theta! Look at the theta!"
While he spoke, Beatrice pulled off the contact points connecting her with the monitoring machinery. The printout halted abruptly.
"What are you doing?" the doctor squealed, whipping his head around toward them. "You must not disconnect yourself. It is very important—"
"Let's go," Arthur said, throwing off Beatrice's bed-sheets.
The two of them ran past the doctors at breakneck speed, then wove through the route Arthur had designed to take them out of the hospital and into the city streets.
Chapter Forty-One
"Arthur! Beatrice!"
The taxi stopped at the red light as the children dodged through the night traffic.
Zack would not have known they'd left the hospital at all if he hadn't gone up to the fourth floor in search of Arthur, where he was told by a harried-looking Indian doctor that the boy had run out a moment before with his patient. Alarmed, Zack had jumped in a cab and headed for the Center. He'd spotted them turning down 55th Street.
"Hey, guys, wait up!" he shouted as he paid the cabbie, but Arthur and Beatrice roundly ignored him. "Kids," he said.
Halfway up the block he heard a tremendous noise, like some slow, sustained explosion, and shifted into a sprint until he caught sight of the Center. Surrounded by a nimbus of dust, the building was crumbling into the ground like a sand castle.
"Kate!" he shouted, pushing past the people gathered in the street.
Dressed in a yellow bathrobe, she was kneeling on all fours on top of the wreckage. Beside her were Arthur and Beatrice. The three of them were digging through the debris with their hands, throwing aside bricks and pieces of broken timber.
"Oh, Jesus," Zack said, running toward them on the shifting, rubble-strewn earth.
"He was standing right here," Kate sobbed.
"Who?" Zack asked, his eyes tearing with the flying dust.
"Taliesin. He's buried under this." She wiped her nose with a grimy arm.
"What happened?"
"Just dig, okay?"
The debris settled, opening up a hole near Arthur. He and Beatrice jumped into it, scooping up armfuls of broken wood.
"It's not safe here," Zack said.
"Then leave!" Arthur shouted. "It was your friend who did this, and you were probably in on it!"
"My... who are you talking about?"
"Aubrey," Kate said. "You don't know what he was into, Zack. But no, he didn't do this. Taliesin did."
Arthur looked up momentarily. "The old man?"
Kate nodded, swallowing a sob. "He was no ordinary old man, Arthur."
The sound of motorcycles filled the street "That must be the police," Beatrice said, picking a long shard of window glass from the ground. "I asked someone to—"
"Arthur!" one of the motorcyclists shouted as he dismounted.
The Broken Sword Page 36
