The Mage Returns

by Christina D Stewart

  A second later, the video of Merlin destroying the young men played on the office's main screen. Ross was impressed with Merlin's speed and skill but when he turned to the young woman, he saw her mouth was wide open and her eyes had opened wider than he would have thought possible.

  "That old man just destroyed those young punks. Did any of them die?" she asked.

  Ross shook his head, "No deaths but they won't be right again. I suspect they're going to remember and regret this night for the rest of their lives," he said.

  "No wonder you want him," she said. "I wouldn't want him wandering the streets either." Then she stopped and looked directly into Ross' eyes. "But you're MI5. And this is a local beating. There's more to this one than meets the eye, isn't there?"

  Ross didn't respond other than to say, "Well, let's see if we can find where he goes. Track that car as well, if you would please. Add it to your search parameters. Can't be many left like that old beauty." He drained the dregs out of his tea cup.

  Merlin Wins One

  The sun had barely risen above the horizon and was spreading shadows across Merlin's lawn when his staff brought him to full consciousness him with the report of a new dawn. Merlin grumbled under his breath about those who never slept being totally inconsiderate of those who did need their beauty rest. A complaint to which the staff replied that Merlin should be fine to wake up at any time given his lack of beauty. Had an outsider been able to hear the conversation they would have recognized a dialogue between two long-married lovers jousting lovingly, with each knowing the next line in their own performance.

  Merlin did indeed wake and the first thing he said outside of their normal script was, "Shower. Hot." After which he tottered off towards the bathroom in an attempt to wash away the feelings of the previous day. That sort of aggression and extreme emotion left him more tired and drained now than it had when he was much younger. He shook his head in disgust.

  Two minutes later, with hot water plastering his beard to his face, he complained out loud, "I once fought twenty-four hours in a row with a sword and now I can hardy kick the butts of five young men - or was it six - before I have to take a break." He poured a generous amount of shampoo into his hand, looked at it with disgust but began working it into his hair anyway. "And this stuff! Who ever heard of having to wash your hair. I went years, no centuries without having to do that. And now some television star says, "Do that - with this!" and the entire human world expects us to wash our hair."

  He grumbled the entire time he was in the shower, but before he shut off the water, he took a few seconds to thank the spirits of the water he'd used for allowing him to heat it up for his own personal comfort.

  He grinned wryly with the thought that he loved a hot-water shower and that it was man's best invention bar none, but that he felt the need to grumble every time he took one. Those young people who considered very long ice-cold showers to be healthier were missing an essential part of civilization and their sanity he decided.

  His staff sent a quick message that consistency may not be one of his strongest characteristics. He returned a rather large harrumph.

  Merlin ate his normal breakfast of yogurt with raspberries. On a day he decided to break old habits, he'd have yogurt and blueberries. He smiled at the memory, one of the rare ones from his childhood he still remembered, of his mother feeding him yogurt she'd made herself and covered with raspberries he'd picked earlier that morning. Again, the thought appeared unbidden that one sign of him getting old was when he began reminiscing about his childhood. He banished it immediately before his staff could comment.

  The thought, asking if he was finished topping up his maudlin-account for the morning, arrived unbidden in his mind and he turned to face his staff across the room. "You're in fine fettle this morning, my old friend," said Merlin. "What's rubbing you the wrong way?"

  Merlin hesitated for a few seconds when the response arrived. "I'm doing the rubbing."

  He hesitated for a second or two again while he considered this. "My apologies," he said. After a rather long time by their standards of communication, Merlin said, "I don't think I'm exaggerating how old I am and how old I feel. You've seen how fighting bothers me now and how long it takes me to recover from a small fight." The staff seemed to glow and Merlin responded rather quickly. "Well, you don't have to be so emphatic. I know I don't exercise. And yes, I do smoke and drink a bit…"

  The staff interrupted.

  "OK, a lot of drink and smoking. But really what do you expect?" Merlin rolled his eyes as if he didn't think the staff would understand.

  "Well, OK, you do understand and your helpful suggestion is that I begin what the humans call, "work out." You think I need to exercise if I want to stay young. And yes, you do mean exercise like a human," said Merlin. "You're so helpful," he said and took a deep breath. Five seconds later, hIs face grew thoughtful. "I'm going to need it," said Merlin. "You're sure?" He looked annoyed.

  A long thirty seconds of silence later, the staff finished the lecture by accepting Merlin's surrender.

  "OK. I surrender," said Merlin. "I'll start working out. Next week," he said, and then after a rather large telepathic and vulgar epithet was hurled at him, he changed that to "Tomorrow. I'll start tomorrow. And yes, before you ask, I promise."

  Their spirits meshed comfortably again, Merlin expanded his concentration to find the young Mr. Ross and see what devilry MI5 was up to.

  He quickly found a trace of him in the CCTV warehouse and in this inadvertent way, Merlin discovered the secrets of video surveillance and how MI5 could track almost anyone in the country. Wandering from floor to floor, he quickly understood Security had hundreds of thousands of cameras across the U.K. Merlin explored the entire fifteen-story, warehouse-sized building more thoroughly, from the general rooms like the one Ross currently was using right up to the uppermost most-secure floors and cameras that focussed on specific individuals tracking them through their day.

  Merlin slumped down in his chair with the realization there was almost nowhere in the country that was not being videotaped at all times. He quickly understood his staff would have to figure out how to control those cameras before he could even begin to consider resolving his geas.

  He watched invisibly and unnoticed as Ross ran the confrontation video with the youths forward and backwards eight times. And each repetition was slower than the last as he seemed to be counting Merlin's punches and kicks. Merlin realized he was counting the blows and then understood that Security would know something important about himself. The young man would count the length of time it took Merlin to deliver the strikes. What Merlin had done was not humanly possible so the young Mr. Ross would realize he was investigating an entirely different reality than the one he'd grown up believing in.

  The sudden realization of the depth and quality of information the CCTV cameras brought to the humans made Merlin feel very vulnerable. Not only could he be found, they could do it rather quickly and easily. It didn't matter if he was guilty of any crime - he wasn't in his opinion - they might be able find him, detain him, and try to lock him away. Or worse.

  He wasn't at all pleased and he let the fae world know it with a string of curses.

  His staff sent him a message that profanity didn't help their current situation even if Babylonian was one of the better human languages for cursing.

  He watched as Ross tracked him, camera by camera, along the Cardiff streets. He saw the cameras lose him at the edge of town as he drove out to release the Hamadryad's spirit. And he saw them pick him back up on camera as he retraced his route back to and through the city to this house. And he saw Ross straighten up with a smile.

  A slow rage started in Merlin's gut as he contemplated leaving another home. His first thought was to preserve the books so he stood, walked to the centre of the room and with the now-familiar spell and spin, the books and paintings were distributed to his remaining two homes in Cambridge and Newcastle. He sent the car to Cambridge. He dissolved eve
rything else leaving an empty shell of a house.

  As he grabbed his staff, he sent it an angry mental shout, "They're coming for us - likely today."

  He disappeared.

  Cambridge

  Merlin reappeared at his Cambridge home in as foul a mood as he'd been since the last time Arthur and Lancelot had faced each other to discuss Guinevere and whether she should be confined to a nunnery or allowed to return to court. The stupid men had agreed she should go to a nunnery. Fools. She was twice as bright as either of them, and in the end was only too happy to enter the nunnery as an abbess while refusing to see either one of them again. The only thing more foolish was the modern American Broadway version where Arthur was going to burn her at the stake but Lancelot defeated him to spirit her away. Lancelot had been good, but not that good, Merlin noted. And Arthur was so besotted with the woman… He left that thought lie where it was, but he did wonder how it might play out this time.

  Once again, Merlin shook his head to dislodge those sad memories of a failed quest. He looked around the well-appointed room with its paintings on the wall by the great masters of the Renaissance. The dark wooden bookshelves in this grand living room were few, most of the books were upstairs in his study, but those books that were here were all collectors' items - many printed by Gutenberg himself. Merlin had the only known collection of every book, pamphlet or document printed by Gutenberg on the very first printing press. Gutenberg was an odious, opportunistic man, but a genius in marketing, and he still owes me money, Merlin thought before putting the man out of his mind.

  He walked to a giant of an ornately upholstered Victorian settee along one wall, kicked off his shoes, laid down and adjusted the pillow under his head so it would be more comfortable. He closed his eyes, asked his staff to watch the Cardiff home and wake him when something happened there because he was going to take a real human nap for just a few minutes. He started softly snoring ten seconds later.

  An hour later, a soft chime brought Merlin out of a restoring sleep. He felt quite refreshed but snapped, "I do not snore," to his staff. The staff promptly replayed a recording and Merlin grumbled, "That's not snoring, that's heavy breathing." The staff did not reply.

  Merlin waved his hand at the wall and a large image appeared over top of the Rembrandt hung above the fireplace. "Now. That's better than a video, isn't it!" said Merlin. He watched in fascination as the Security team, commanded by Smithers this time, broke into the Cardiff house to find it totally and completely empty. He heard Smithers complain on his radio that the quarry had been in the house not that long ago. He ended his tirade with the opinion that it was impossible to get all that furniture out and away from right in front of their noses without the video camera across the street recording it.

  Ross entered the room and Merlin sat up a bit straighter. It will be interesting to see what Ross would say and do in the face of his superior's disappointment Merlin decided.

  "It's exactly like London then," said Ross. He held his smile in check. "He took the car again as well. I just checked the garage."

  "Looks like it, doesn't it," said Smithers. "How in the blue blazes does he move all that stuff so quickly?"

  "I expect, Sir, the question is more likely, 'Where did he go'?'" said Ross.

  "How many houses does one man have anyway?" asked Smithers. His voice was higher than normal with a trace of a whine mixed into his normal hard-done-by tone of voice.

  Ross knew better than to reply or even begin to frame a meaningful answer. He decided a simple, "Indeed," would keep him out of trouble. Smithers added, "How many homes could he have? Sooner or later, he's going to run out of bolt holes to hide in and then we'll have him. "

  Ross glanced at his superior officer and wondered whether he really wanted to "have him" as Smithers suggested.

  Merlin shut down the viewing window, smiled and went back to sleep.

  Arthur Is Found

  In the library of the Cambridge house, surrounded by his beloved books, Merlin sat stiffly in an ornately carved, straight-backed chair with wide curving armrests. He held his staff upright in his right hand and his left arm lay with his palm facing upwards on the chair's left armrest. He ceremoniously thumped his staff three times on the floor, and on the third time he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  While there was no noise, no flashing of lights or other outwardly evident symbols of his mood, all of the birds went completely silent, settled onto their branches, and stuck their heads under their wings. The small fae that normally played around the house and the surrounding trees quietly settled down to remain inconspicuous. It wasn't that they didn't trust Merlin, but their long history with the possible anger of the great fae lords had taught them caution no matter how many apologies they'd received.

  Merlin's mind took flight, soared upwards without hesitation through the roof of the Cambridge home and began circling wider and wider as it expanded its reach. In the time span of a great fae lord, it was but a mere moment, a blink of an eye. In human terms, it took Merlin two hours to search all of Wales. He then directed his attention to England and slowly but surely searched every nook and cranny of every city and every acre of the open countryside.

  After three hours of intense searching in England, he snapped his eyes open. Surely not, he thought. Surely not.

  He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath and allowed his mind to flow north.

  An hour later, he found what he was looking for. He found the people, found the city, and saw his future as the story begin to unfold as it had in the past. He opened his eyes, shook his head as if to clear it, and frowned.

  "Scotland! Bloody Scotland," he said. "What did I ever do to deserve this."

  He sat quietly for five minutes putting everything in its place in his mind. He took a deep breath and sighed. "Ah well, I've not been to Aberdeen in a century or six. Perhaps they've made it into a decent place by now," he said aloud to nobody in particular. His mood didn't improve however and it washed out across the neighbourhood in a wave.

  Just to be on the the safe side, small animals and the even smaller fae who had been hiding quietly stole away. The dryads flitted from tree to tree to escape the circle of disquiet settling over the small house.

  An unnatural silence settled over the neighbourhood, a fact that was much discussed that evening over cocktails in many of the homes.

  Security In London

  Officers Smithers and Ross stood at rigid attention in front of Director Campbell. "You asked for a verbal report, sir," Smithers said. "May I deliver that now, sir?"

  The officer behind the desk nodded and pointed to the chair on the right of the his desk with the padded seat cushion, the comfortable one for visitors. Smithers took that one. Ross took the unpadded, straight-back chair.

  "Sir, we're obviously dealing with something other than a human, sir," Smithers began. He was interrupted.

  "Forget the 'Sirs', Officers," said Campbell. "This discussion is totally and completely off the record. Nobody would believe us or any of the security team. Officially, there is nothing on tape. There is no recorded history of this individual."

  Campbell stood, took two steps towards the wall behind him turned and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he did so. "When all else fails, the most obvious answer is often the most unbelievable," he said.

  "Yes, sir," said Ross. "I'm sure you're aware, sir," he hesitated as both senior officers raised an eyebrow. "I forgot. No 'sirs'. Got it." He stood as well, turned and started pacing back and forth across the room as he gave his report.

  "What we know so far, is that this person has an ability to transport himself from one place to the other without us seeing him. We also know that if he does stay in one place he registers on our CCTV cameras. And those cameras and the AI controlling them can find him. We've identified two of his houses but we have no idea how many he has. Both have been stripped empty and bare right to the walls leaving no trace of anything up to and including DNA. We have his acti
ons at the security meeting. We have seven different accounts of that invasion from our most senior and trusted officials including yourself, all all say he simply appeared, waved his fingers, and all hell broke loose.

  I've seen the CCTV footage at HMS Victory and removing something from the mainmast defies conventional wisdom. All x-rays of the mast indicate there is now an 8-foot core section containing newer wood then the rest of the mast surrounding it. This indicates what we saw on the video is accurate. This individual reached into the middle of the mast, pulled out an 8-foot section of wood and replaced it with newer wood. This is a physical impossibility but we have it on tape."

  Ross, stopped and looked at his commanding officer.

  The man simply said, "Go on."

  "It doesn't matter if it's advanced science, we can't replicate it, so for us it's magic," said Ross. The young officer shrugged his shoulders, leaned back on the wall as well and crossed his arms. "Damned if I know, sir."

  "Is the AI searching through the CCTV cameras?" asked the senior officer.

  "Yes, it's a 24-hour nationwide search. We know that he can travel almost undetected, so we really have no idea where he will pop up next. Or, even if he will pop up again. All I can tell you is that the cameras in the AI have been tasked to identify him as their highest-priority search," said Smithers.

  Ross thought better of that too-relaxed look to his superior officer, and stood upright.

  Campbell nodded at the young man. He turned to Smithers and said, "Mr. Smithers, all communications about this case will be forwarded to my office. Your task, Mr. Ross, is to find him, follow him and work yourself into his confidence. In essence, you're going undercover against this man. Keep Mr. Smithers informed about all progress. My 24-hour telephone numbers have been uploaded to both your phones so in an emergency, you may contact me directly. I don't have to tell you it should indeed be an emergency if you contact me directly at some strange hour," said Campbell with a raised eyebrow.