by Candace Sams
Mac considered them both before speaking again. He casually took a cup of coffee from the table in front of him and sipped it. Before he spoke, he scanned the horizon, but didn’t sense anyone in the distance. “Things are definitely going to hell fast. Nothing is normal anymore.”
“Mac, we’re three immortals sitting in the middle of Cumbria, guarding the hillsides while waiting for a battle with King Arthur’s arch enemy. Define normal,” Trey insisted.
Mac ran a hand over his face. “I should have known something was wrong by the way the note to meet him was delivered.”
The siblings gazed at him, waiting to hear more.
“He left it pinned to my bedroom door…with a knife!”
“Christ!” Trey muttered.
Frankie glanced at both. “I’ll talk to him and get him to calm down. He’s got to learn that he can’t treat people the way he does. It was bad enough that he kept me from knowing my own brother was alive, for over a century. Never mind all the secrets he kept from Garrett Bloodnight. He can’t manipulate everyone and treat us like we’re not to be trusted —”
“Don’t go near him. Either of you,” Mac warned. “I’m telling you…he’s gone mad, and I’m not speaking metaphorically.”
The pair stared at him with mouths open.
“Look, the reason he asked to meet at the protective circle was because, deep down, he was trying to keep from using magic to take my head off. Deep down, he’s still in there, but not much of the Merlin we know is left,” Mac declared. “As you’re both fully aware, no violence can be enacted inside a protective circle. Not by anyone. The power of nature itself rules in such places and cannot be thwarted. Merlin was trying his best to fight off whatever’s taken hold of him. He met me there for my sake, even if he did it subliminally,” he explained.
“This is serious shit,” Trey added.
“Dead serious! Early this morning, I called Garrett Bloodnight and asked him to come back to the castle. Garrett and his entire entourage will be back before midnight. That means we’ve got to stay out of Merlin’s way until then. I think, once Merlin’s sister gets here, she might be able to control the old fart! To remind you, Anna Gast, is an Ethereal herself. She knows her brother better than anyone else in this world. If she can’t bring him back to some semblance of normalcy, then I don’t know who can. But the three of us certainly cannot handle him alone. More to the point, I need to get back to the castle to warn Garrett before he arrives. I don’t want them walking in on this situation blindly. I can’t call from here, there’s no cell reception.”
Frankie moved closer to him. “What exactly happened in that circle, Mac?”
“I challenged his delusions of power. He’s convinced himself that the battle will be lost unless he’s in control. Now he knows that he’s not, he’s gone over the edge.”
“He’s got enough magic in ‘im to kill us. Using spells, he could make us fight each other over nothing,” Trey advised. “I saw him do that very thing during the war, with rogues who outnumbered agency immortals.” He paused. “I never stopped to consider it before, but isn’t that kind of magic considered dark? Ethereals have always told me that using any magic inappropriately…which can be loosely interpreted…can result in nasty side effects. That’s why Morgen LeFey is batshit crazy. Assuming this might be the case with Merlin, shouldn’t we have seen signs of his losing it before?”
“The closer we get to the confrontation with Morgan, the more fear of losing control Merlin experiences. We must be very close to the battle indeed. After centuries of waiting for revenge for the death of Arthur, Merlin’s mental state can’t be that stable under any circumstance. He must be emotionally dealing with the fact that the queen will blame him for anything that goes wrong. Moreover, if we lose this battle, the entire country will find out he exists, and that other Ethereals are walking around, loose in the world. You can both imagine the chaos that will ensue if the general population gets wind of what’s been hidden for centuries,” Mac insisted.
“Yeah. That’s what I’d call pressure,” Trey quipped. “Merlin has been circumventing the law regarding immortals for centuries. Never mind hiding Ethereals in the population.”
“Today, he did something that he’s never done before. The old coot threatened me. I tried not to react but his eyes were glowing as though he was about to summon enough power to take me out. And I’m not being immodest when I say that it’d take a hell of a lot of power to do it, but he could!” Mac affirmed.
“Oh my God!” Frankie whispered as she put a hand on Mac’s arm. “How did you get back here without him attacking you? Once you left the protection of the circle, there’d be nothing keeping him from summoning power to take your head off. If he has been using evil magic to try and thwart Morgan, and it has taken control of him, it wouldn’t let him feel the slightest compunction about taking a life.”
“I did what any self-respecting immortal of my age and experience would do. I groveled!” Mac told them. “Part of him didn’t want to believe me, but part of him did. For the time being, I convinced him that I was sorry for my interference, and would do whatever it took to make things right.”
The brother and sister stared at each other. Mac saw the same fear that he felt in both their expressions.
“I knew he was angry when I told him that I wouldn’t negotiate American assistance without demands being met, but he didn’t say anything in response. He just glared at me. I didn’t know he was going to threaten anybody,” Frankie softly mused.
“I don’t know how long what’s left of his benevolence will last, but Merlin is dead set on having control over this entire mission. He sees his existence, and his position with the monarchy, as threatened. He knows what will happen if we lose, and the world learns this battle with a mythic character from Arthurian legend ever happened in the first place,” Mac reiterated. “He’s not going to let all the Ethereals on this planet become public knowledge. Anything that remotely threatens them will be enough for him to go off on us!”
Trey glanced at their surroundings before asking his next question. “So…what’s the plan?”
“I don’t sense him near, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t watching. For the next half hour, let’s go about our business as we normally would. Then, one by one, casually leave. You go first, Frankie. Then you, Trey. I’ll follow. Take roundabout ways to get back to the castle. Meet me in my room…in case anyone has forgotten, it’s the fourth door on the left, third floor. Don’t look obvious. Don’t move fast. Got it?”
The siblings nodded.
“We need to stay out of Merlin’s sight. At least until Garrett gets here with Anna and the rest of his people. One more thing, Frankie…”
“Yeah?”
“When you get back to the castle, not before…call in your Americans. Get them here as fast as you can.”
Chapter 11
After the others left, carrying gear and weapons they’d have taken down had they been leaving under any other circumstances, Mac slowly made his way downward, and toward the castle. His sword was in his right hand, but it would do him no good against someone with Merlin’s powers.
As he put his first booted foot on the driveway of Bloodnight Castle, he felt an age-old presence of magic and mysticism. Glancing to his left, he saw Merlin standing at the far end of the driveway, staring at him. The wizard’s eyes were still glowing green, and the blood chilled in his veins. If Merlin was still out of control, then he might not come back from whatever dark hole he’d last been scrying into.
Mirrors, bowls of water, crystals, fires, candle flames. These were but a few of the objects that Merlin used to find out what Morgan LeFey was doing. In all these centuries, the Sage of Camelot had done his best to see that she didn’t look back and find out all the allies’ secrets. Apparently, at least on one of these latest session, she’d found him and had sent some of her own darkness to cloud the older man’s mind. If Merlin’s sister didn’t get here soon, it could be too late to b
ring back their biggest source of magic.
There were other Ethereals. But none whose magical abilities compared to Arthur’s one-time counselor.
Mac kept walking, even as Merlin strode toward him.
If the darkness that he now sensed in Merlin was unleashed on Trey, Frankie or him, that was three of Garrett Bloodnight’s best allies down and out. It would be particularly bad if Merlin, in his current psychotic-like state, went after Frankie. She had access to the Americans. If anything happened to her, Washington might not risk lesser skilled immortals in a battle that didn’t yet concern them. The whole point of her being her was to make sure she saw enough and reported enough to sway any naysayers on Capitol Hill who kept secrets just as stringently as Her Majesty.
The battle was meant to be fought here. Morgan was meant to be stopped here, without the rest of the world knowing anything had happened. If Merlin was now on her side, even as he subliminally fought her evil control, anything could happen. Merlin might inadvertently do something that brought attention to Bloodnight property, and the immortals and Ethereals that would be ensconced there by tonight.
Retreating to his room might be cowardly, but he had no strength against a mad Ethereal.
He kept walking and picked up his pace. As he did, Merlin did the same.
“Macsen Rhys! You will not defy me!” Merlin shouted. “I forgave your impudence. You tricked me!”
Mac bolted for the kitchen door, as it was the closest. As he ran through it, he slammed the inner oak door behind him and bolted it. Then, he ran for the front foyer to lock those doors, and all the others he could find. The windows on the first floor should have been closed and locked after Garrett and his staff left. As far as he knew, no one had opened them. There’d been no reason to do so. Especially as cold as the weather now was. The temperature had dropped to late autumn chills that made even immortals uncomfortable. He prayed those windows were still locked, then silently cursed himself for thinking any of that would stop the magician of the ages.
As he ran up the stairs, he still closed and bolted the door to each floor behind him, at both ends of the halls. Now, he was just trying to slow Merlin down, not stop him.
He barely noted the rich carpet beneath his feet, or the shining woodwork where priceless paintings were displayed in the galleries.
He felt like a child, running from a parent who was about to exact some very harsh punishment. Running felt all wrong, but he couldn’t play the warrior with a mad sorcerer stalking them down.
As he loped for his room, he saw the door open, and heard voices coming from inside. He’d have known that two other immortals were already there, even if they’d made no noise at all. That was the strength of their senses.
As he lurched through the door to his room, he closed it shut behind him and — as he had every other access to the castle — he shot the bolt to lock them all inside.
“Mac, what the hell…” Trey cried.
Mac waved his hand and moved quickly to his desk, where his laptop was waiting. He turned the device on. As soon as it was up and running, he began to type on the keypad. “I’m contacting Her Majesty’s representative. Merlin isn’t to be trusted any longer.” Then he glanced up at Frankie. “Have you contacted Washington, yet?”
“I have. There are thirteen immortals on their way. When they arrive in this country from Washington, someone must get them from London quietly, without the entire countryside knowing. They don’t want their identities plastered all over some London rag.”
“I’ll have Her Majesty’s people take care of that. Do you have an itinerary?”
“They’re arriving by special jet. Heathrow. Ten hours.”
“Why so bloody long?” he asked.
“They have to be careful about not drawing attention to themselves, Mac. They’re coming armed to the teeth. The last thing they want to do is land on foreign soil without permission. It takes time to set things like this up, even in emergencies. They’re moving as fast as they can. I do have a flight schedule on my phone. Do you want it transferred to your computer?”
“No. I’ve got your cell number memorized. I’ll send you a phone number to Balmoral right now. You attach the arrival schedule and send it straight to that number. Don’t send anything connecting yourself or your brother to my laptop.”
Mac quickly sent her the number to Balmoral. Whether the queen was there or not, her people would inform her of everything straight away. Her Majesty would control everything to do with picking up the American contingent, and getting them to Bloodnight Castle. He then sent a message to Garrett, so he’d be apprised of all that had happened, and Merlin’s sudden departure from sanity. The last thing they needed was for Merlin to ambush everyone coming from Scotland.
The lights began to flicker ominously. Thankfully, modern technology moved faster than a wizard from Camelot could summon spells.
“What’s going on?” Trey asked as he gazed upward at the gilt chandelier overhead.
Mac sighed heavily. “Frankie, did you get your message off?”
“Yeah. I got one back saying that ‘the matter would be addressed forthwith’. Now, my phone is completely dead. And I mean, d-e-a-d.”
“Mine too,” Trey said after he pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and checked it.
The lights went out entirely.
Mac picked up the landline on his desk. It was dead.
“I think our resident magician is cutting us off from the rest of the world. Thankfully, he got his mojo going a little too late,” Mac advised.
“Holy crud! He can do that? He can kill our phones and even the computer?” Frankie asked. “And the electricity?”
“I’m not sure why he’d cut the electricity off to the castle. It’s not like we can’t see in the frickin’ dark, but he’s nuts so…” Mac let his words trail away. He plopped down in his desk chair and ran one hand over the back of his neck. “Merlin wants to put the fear of all the old gods into us.”
“I don’t know about you two, but I’m kind of afraid,” Trey quipped.
“Only an idiot wouldn’t be. Pour us all a drink, will you, Trey? It’s going to be a long time before Garrett and Merlin’s sister gets here. If our minds are somewhat muddled, Merlin will find it difficult to bewitch us into doing something crazy. Not impossible, but difficult.”
Trey moved to a small bar on the far side of the room, and did as he was asked.
“Given what you just said, is drinking still a smart move right now?” Frankie questioned. “We need our wits about us.”
“My dear sister,” Trey blandly remarked as he turned around with a drink for her and Mac in his hands, “if Merlin is going to take us out, it won’t matter if we’re shit-faced or not. There won’t be a damned thing we can do about it. But if we can get shit-faced enough, he’ll have to expend a lot of energy to make us move at all.”
Mac simply nodded as he sipped the whiskey Trey handed him.
Frankie took her drink and took a seat in an overstuffed wing chair. “Are…are you going to be okay with being cooped up like this, Mac?”
“Not much choice. I’ll be fine.”
Trey checked the door. “Can Merlin get to us in here?”
“It’s easier for him if we’re in his line of sight. He can’t slam us into infinity with magic energy if he can’t see exactly where we’re standing. He can sense us in the room, but not our precise location. Like you said, drinking might keep him from making any connection to our minds. I suggest you drink well since we all have weapons in the room.”
“You don’t think…Merlin couldn’t make us take up arms against each other, could he?” Frankie whispered as she stared at the swords leaning in various parts of the room.”
Mac stared at the glass in his hand. “I don’t know.”
Trey nodded. “I’d heard that Ethereals have a harder time dealing with rogues who’re drunk or on drugs. At least…that’s what I heard.”
Mac sipped more of the golden drink
. “It’s all we’ve got. I suggest you get comfortable.”
* * *
For the next hour, Frankie stayed seated in her chair while Mac, her brother, and she drank copious amounts of whiskey. Merlin hadn’t come for them yet. It was generally decided that he was waging an internal battle about whether he should.
In the meantime, Immortals could get drunk.
It just took a whole hell of a lot more to do it since their bodies were in constant state of repair, at a cellular level. They simply had to get to a point where their bodies couldn’t catch up with the amount and speed of the whiskey consumed.
When the room began to spin, she excused herself and stumbled in the direction of where she thought the bathroom would be. Once there, she splashed water on her face, urinated, then returned to the room.
Trey and Mac were both staring at the expensive red and blue carpet. Walking across that huge room seemed to take forever. All the massive oak furniture one would ascribe to a well-kept castle bedroom loomed around her like a forest of deceased trees.
“Frankie, if you need to rest, make yourself at home,” Mac invited, as he motioned toward the bed.
“Did I just h-hear you invite my s-sister to get into a b-bed?” Trey stammered.
“Not with me, you dolt. By herself.”
“But it’s your bed.”
“It’s the only one here, Trey.”
“She’s my sister.”
Mac shook his head. “I wasn’t s-suggesting…I wasn’t saying…I’m not sleeping with her!” he finally got out.
“Not that it would be any of your b-business,” Frankie weighed in, as she stumbled toward the edge of the four-poster in question and plopped there.
Trey glanced at his sister and Mac, several times. “Are you two…you know…”
“What? Are we what?” Mac defiantly asked. “Your sister is a grown woman. A w-warrior. She can sleep w-with anyone she wants to.”
Frankie adamantly nodded. “Damned straight! I was about to sleep with him when y-you ran up… when you…when you showed u-up, Scott.”
