Just A Little Wicked: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Tales

by Lily Luchesi

  Turning quickly, Morgan followed their gait, judging by the continuous movement of the branches. The moment a hand appeared, splitting the foliage to escape, she sent a blast of energy from the tip of her wand at the appendage.

  The blast barely singed the skin, but she did not aim to injure, rather to startle and capture. Anyone sneaking around the woods at this time, trying so desperately to remain unseen, was obviously up to no good.

  “Bloody Hell!” The figure tried to retreat but with another well-placed movement charm, they instead went flying into the clearing, stumbling in the tall grass.

  And Morgan was right: the intruder wore the insignia of Camelot on his cloak.

  “Merlin,” she hissed.

  The wizard in question whipped around, and she could now see he was fully clad in human clothing, the insulting logo on his breast as well. He was on the defencive, wand brandished, until he realised whom he faced.

  “Morgan, thank Gaia,” he said, lowering his wand. “I―”

  She didn't give him the opportunity to speak further. “Ligabis,” she cast, binding him to the spot.

  Black eyes widened and he cried, “No, wait!”

  Morgan walked up to him and placed the tip of her wand under his chin, looking up at him. She was satisfied when she saw the fear flickering in his eyes. “The Queen warned you and every other traitor in our midst that returning to the Coven would result in your immediate execution. Surely you cannot believe yourself to be so privileged to be exempt, Emrys.”

  “No, you don't understand,” he said quickly.

  Morgan smirked. “All right then. The spell will hold another ten minutes before I must renew it. Tell me, what is it I misunderstand?” He was at her mercy and she knew that he knew she possessed very little of it.

  “The Queen is expecting me tonight. Just like she has every fortnight since I had been one month within Camelot,” he said. “Take me to her, you’ll see.”

  At that, she laughed. “Oh yes, please, allow me to take you to our Queen so that you may unleash whatever convoluted plot Arthur thrust upon you to undertake.”

  Merlin cursed, something she never witnessed the quiet, polite boy do before. “You’re arguably the brightest witch in the world. Why are you being so deliberately obstinate?”

  “Why do you think I’d believe your lies?” she challenged, pressing the wand tip harder into his flesh.

  She did have a bit of a dilemma, however. Were she to kill him, it would open an investigation within the Coven. Were she to take him to the Queen or even the Guard, it would open questions as to why she defied the rules and left the castle dorms so late.

  Unlike Fiona, Gwen, and Accolon, Morgan was a horrible liar.

  In the end, it was best to take him to the Guard and beg forgiveness for her minor transgressions. After all, bringing him in, wouldn’t that override something as minor as going for a stroll?

  “I’m not lying,” Merlin nearly growled, seeming to finally be at his wits’ end with her. “If I was, why did I not merely kill you when I spotted you through the trees?”

  Much as she hated to admit it, he had a point.

  “All right then, if you’re not lying, then the Guard will back you up, will they not?”

  Despite the rest of his body being frozen from the spell, Merlin whipped his head back and forth so quickly, Morgan wondered if he gave himself whiplash.

  “No, no! They cannot see me. Only the Queen may. Take me to her, Morgan. You’ve got me bound. I can’t curse her with my hands quite literally tied, can I?” he asked.

  “Guards roam the halls, how do you expect us to get to her chambers unnoticed?” she asked, resigned. Either Merlin was mad, or had a plan so devious, even she could not surmise it.

  He looked relieved. “Unbind my legs, please. Unless you’d rather carry me.”

  “I’d rather not,” she replied, doing as he asked. She renewed the charm on his upper body and plucked his wand from his hands, pocketing it. He could still perform wandless magic, as most magicians did these days, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  “All right, go round the back of the castle, to the oak.”

  Morgan half wondered if the Queen was waiting for a rendezvous behind the large, obtrusive, and unlikely tree. She kept her wand brandished, just in case, her eyes peeled for any unseen enemies. She desperately wished she had abilities to sense a presence, but those were reserved for precious few magicians, it seemed.

  When she spotted the oak a few metres away, she asked, “Where to from there?”

  He shook his head. “Go to the tree itself. You’ll see.”

  It was darker here, the trees were dense and the castle walls blotted out the starlight. Only her small magical orb gave her the ability to see properly and not trip on a root or fall into a trap.

  Once they stood in front of the oak, Merlin turned to regard her. “I am glad you brought your wand. This wouldn’t work without one.”

  Now Morgan was even more confused. “What exactly am I supposed to do here?”

  They stood in front of the large tree trunk; it was so old it was wider than the two of them standing side by side, and she imagined four or five people could fit comfortably inside it.

  “Take your wand, tap the centre of the trunk, right between your eyebrows, three times. Wait three seconds exactly. Tap three times again. A spot should begin to glow. Press the tip of your want into it, not on it, and say, ‘aperta’.”

  Unsure if he was mad or not, Morgan kept hold of one of his arms while she did as he said. To her surprise, the glowing dot appeared, and she pressed her wand into that very spot. Magic travelled through her wand, up her arm, causing her to shiver delightfully.

  “Aperta.”

  Her wand was slowly pushed out, and then a larger section began to glow, a long rectangle that began above Merlin’s head and went down to the ground. With a rustling of leaves, the brand new door swung open, revealing a tunnel of some sort.

  “What is this?” she asked, again concerned she was being led into a trap. Merlin was intelligent and crafty; he was the only one Morgan believed could ever be a threat to her magically.

  “What does it look like?” he snapped. “Come on, I am already late.”

  He walked a pace ahead of her into the tunnel, and she followed so she would not lose sight of him.

  They were in a small archway the size of the tree, and the tunnel had a staircase going down, deep within the earth. A bluish green light softly illuminated the otherwise pitch black area, and Morgan spotted clusters of glowworms that seemed to thrive in this environment. Last she heard, they were only found in Scotland.

  “We believe emissaries were sent at one point or another to collect specimens to light this very passage,” Merlin said, knowing somehow what she was thinking.

  “How old is it?”

  “Old. There’s a chance it predates the castle itself, though no one knows what was there that it led to then. It’s at least three centuries old.”

  Morgan searched for anything to mark a date, or who might have created it, but the dirt walls were smooth and hard packed with magic.

  The stairs went down about a full storey, leaving them deep beneath the grounds. They leveled out and became a straight tunnel, heading towards the castle. Morgan counted steps, trying to gauge how far beneath the castle they were and where they were headed. It was impossible, considering the near complete darkness. Keeping track meant nothing: this was a straight line, the castle had twists and turns and staircases that led somewhere new every time you ascended.

  They finally reached the end of the tunnel, which led to a simple wood door with a regular handle. She opened it, letting in blessedly cool air.

  They were in the castle dungeons. Now she knew where she was, considering she spent most of her time here or in the library. They entered another hall, this one short and made of the same stone as the castle, and then opened another door, only for them both to be hit with a large, heavy tapestry.

/>   Moving it aside, Morgan realised they were in the Brewing lab. The large tapestry depicting a Biblical scene of a potioneer in Israel was there to cover this hidden doorway, and no one ever thought to look behind it.

  “Merlin, it is about time. I was beginning to wonder if Pendragon― Morgana.”

  The Queen herself stood in the centre of the room, her lips pursed at the sight of the uninvited guest.

  “What are you doing out of the dormitory at such a time of night?”

  “I might ask you why you’re here at this time of night, awaiting the arrival of a known defector, My Lady,” Morgan countered. She was beyond concern that the Queen would revoke her powers.

  Aritza gave a small smile, rather than getting angry. “Nevermind then why you were out. Pray tell, why do you have my informant captive?”

  “Informant?” Morgan gasped.

  At the same time, Merlin spat, “I told you.”

  “May I request you let him go, Miss Le Fay?” Aritza asked.

  Morgan shoved him away from her, removing the stasis charm from his upper body.

  His tense form relaxed a bit and he stretched his arms and shoulders. Turning to her, he held his hand out impatiently.

  She placed his wand in his palm, feeling a conduit of magic pass between them. For a moment, she spotted her green magic mixed with silver. Was that his magic? If so, how could she spot it with the naked eye?

  Glancing at his face, she knew he saw it, too, and was just as confused as she.

  Aritza cleared her throat. “Miss Le Fay, if you return to the dorms now, I will not issue any punishments.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Morgan shook her head. “My sincerest apologies, My Lady, but I prefer to know what on Earth is going on. For one year now, I have believed Merlin Emrys to be a traitor and magical advisor to our sworn enemy. Yet he, and your demeanour, tell me otherwise.

  “Uther Pendragon killed my parents. I watched them be led away for execution. If anyone deserves to know what is going on, it would be I.”

  Merlin cocked an eyebrow at her, amusement etched on his usually stoic features.

  The Queen stepped forward, arms crossed. Despite her advanced age, Morgan was certain the Queen could hold her own in a duel, even if Morgan was the better magician. She didn’t wish to try her luck.

  “If you wish to be let in on this, I will ask you the same question I asked Emrys when he returned here eleven months ago: what will your acquiescence allow me to gain?”

  What?

  Morgan was confused; what did she have to offer the Queen and why did the woman need something from her?

  “Morgan,” Merlin whispered, “just go. It’s better this way.”

  “My time is precious, Miss Le Fay,” Aritza said. “If I allow you into this mission, what can you bring to the table?”

  Before she could think, she blurted, “A way to bring down Arthur Pendragon that is virtually untraceable.”

  The silence in the room was deafening, even the Queen herself looked stunned.

  “We will discuss this when the time comes,” she said, shaking herself from her shock. “Now, Merlin, come sit down. Tell me what you have learnt. Morgan, you may stay and listen.”

  Morgan sat next to Merlin hesitantly, wondering what in Hades she got herself into.

  Chapter Five

  Merlin wished he could go back and redo nearly everything about the last year, but nothing weighed on his mind so much as allowing Morgan to enter into this Hellish pact with him and the Queen.

  When he saw her, he should have stunned her with his magic and erased the fact that she ever saw him from her memory. Certainly, the spell was illegal, but so was nearly everything he did since going to Camelot. What did one more infraction matter?

  “It is disheartening news, My Lady,” he said, twisting the edge of his tunic in his hands. Especially for Morgan to have to hear. “You have, I trust, heard that Camelot is to have a new queen.”

  The way Morgan’s entire body stiffened told him all he needed to know.

  “This has been part of Gwen’s plan all along,” he continued, still unable to look Morgan in the eyes. Not for this. He was no coward, but he could not bear to witness the pain in her gaze. “It was she who recommended Accolon to the Knights of the Round Table. And it was she, fed information from someone within the castle, who had him killed.”

  Morgan and the Queen both gasped.

  “I believed there to be someone within the castle against us, but this is … difficult to comprehend,” Aritza commented. “Is Guinevere still a witch?”

  He nodded. “And she doesn’t want to marry Arthur. She wants to kill him.”

  “So she’s on our side?” Morgan asked, hope rising in her tone.

  He shook his head. “No. She is still a witch, but she is most definitely not on our side. She wishes to use the Knights to kill us all. Her plan is to marry Arthur and then have him die ― ideally by the hand of someone within the Coven ― and then she can take control of the army and take the Coven by force.”

  “Why would she want to do that?” Morgan asked.

  Merlin shook his head. “I wish I had an answer for you, I do. She never told me why, never explained. But she trusts me now, enough so that I am her spy with her betrothed. I relay information to her just as I do to you, My Lady.”

  The Queen narrowed her eyes. “Are you equating me with a psychotic teenage traitor?”

  “No, ma’am. Merely … making a comparison.” That was exactly what he was doing, and by the glint in her eyes, Morgan knew it.

  “How long is it until the wedding?” Morgan wondered.

  “Six months. And I doubt she will make a move until another six months’ time has passed. She needs time for Camelot to trust her,” he said. He wasn’t certain, but it made the most sense. Guinevere was intelligent, biding her time, making the proper connections.

  Aritza nodded. “So we have one year.”

  “I believe, yes. Should I find differently, I will let you know as soon as I can,” he promised.

  “How?” the Queen asked. “You cannot sneak a messenger elf into Camelot and expect it to come out alive. And we cannot risk waiting a fortnight between visits if information possibly hinges on mere days.”

  “She will still not make a move until after the wedding, so we have six months to figure something out,” Morgan said, her hands clutching her cloak so tight, her knuckles were pure white.

  Merlin nodded. “She’s right. Right now, what you here in the Coven need to do is prepare a line of defence, and stress that anyone in contact with Gwen is to come forth or cease communications.”

  Aritza narrowed her eyes. “You believe you can give me orders, Emrys?”

  “I believe, My Lady, that I can give you advice. And my advice is to try and weed out her confidant within these walls. If you can do that, it will cause chaos for her plan, giving us more time to figure out how we’re going to defend the Coven without appearing as though we wish to do harm to the mortals.”

  A piercing shard of hatred embedded itself in his heart; hatred towards the Queen. It had been one thing to demand repayment for his transgressions for trying to abandon the Coven. He understood he owed his entire species something grand. Being the Coven spy within Camelot was not a job, but a punishment.

  How dare Aritza demand something of Morgan? She was innocent, her only crime being in love with a madwoman. What was the Queen’s purpose for using Morgan in such a way?

  The Queen nodded. “Indeed. But you must do more than stay and listen, Emrys. What you did to the Coven demands more of a sacrifice from you than merely your time.”

  Merlin’s ears got hot; were they not covered by his hair, he was certain they were bright red.

  “I know what I did, and this matter has been discussed. I will do what I can to deliver information to you, but what else would you like for me to do, My Lady? Kill Arthur myself, so that I may be executed? Would my blood be sufficient for Her Ladyship?”

  H
e was playing with fire, that he knew, but he also knew one thing more: Aritza needed him. There was no one else who could possibly do what he was currently doing, risking their lives for the good of the Coven. So even if she wished to kill him for his attitude, she could not.

  He was safe, for the time being.

  The Queen did indeed appear incensed, but what was she to do? Effectively dismissing him, she turned and faced Morgan. The young witch’s face was impassive, but Merlin knew better. She had heard every word, every nuance, and read between the lines already.

  “Miss Le Fay, what is it you can provide to me for allowing you within this mission of ours? You mentioned a way to kill Arthur?”

  Morgan nodded, turning to give a pointed look at Merlin.

  “Indeed, but as it is in a prototype stage, I prefer not to discuss it yet. It will be perfected long before we must make a move. And … if it is true that Guinevere is the mastermind behind this, I will feed it to her as well.”

  Was she truly insinuating that she did not trust Merlin to know her secret weapon? He would have been offended, had he not understood why she was so protective of anything close to her now.

  “And how do you propose we deliver the killing blows?” Aritza asked her.

  Morgan tossed some hair behind her shoulder and gave an elegant shrug, almost perfect mimicry of the Queen. “I suppose we will have to figure that out along the way, won’t we?”

  The Queen nodded but did not appear happy whatsoever. “Emrys, I advise you to return to Camelot before anyone notices you are missing. We will figure out a way to confidentially relay messages by the time you visit next.” She stood and waved a hand, effectively dismissing the two of them as she glided out of the dungeons.

  Merlin waited until the dungeon door closed before he turned to Morgan. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Telling you how positively barking your girlfriend is.”

  Morgan shook her head. “Former girlfriend. How could I not have seen what she was truly like? Was I so blind?”

  She looked up at him, almost as if she did want an answer.

  “Love is powerful,” he replied before he realised what he was saying. “So powerful, it can blind us to the truth, or it can drive us to extremes to protect the one we love. Even if it means our own ruination. Be thankful you were able to see Gwen for what she is before you wound up becoming the latter.”