The Merlin Chronicles: Box Set (All Three Novels)

by Daniel Diehl

  “Mongolia. My God, that’s the other side of the world.”

  “Ah, but a perfect place to hide, wouldn’t you say?” It was a rhetorical question and Merlin did not wait for Jason’s answer before continuing. “I also assume it’s one of several headquarters for her criminal activities. Based on a look at your world atlas, probably those connected with the Russian Mafia or the Chinese Triads. It is also possible that she has some alternative device for contacting the dragons hidden there.”

  “How can you be so certain she is going to Mongolia?”

  “I watched her for more than three hours. Finally, a letter came by messenger and inside was an airline ticket to Ulan Bator.”

  “You could see it?”

  “I watched over her shoulder while she read the ticket. There were also what appeared to be railway tickets, so we can assume that Ulan Bator is not her final destination. Unfortunately I could not see the writing on the rail ticket.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We follow her, obviously.”

  “How are we supposed to get to Mongolia?”

  “Take the train to London, then the rail shuttle to Heathrow, and from there Air Cathay seems to have the best rates and the earliest flight I could get. The entire journey will take just over fifteen hours.” Jason nodded his head, taking in all this information, when Merlin added “We leave in two days.”

  “We’re going to Mongolia in two days?” Jason spluttered into his drink, his voice rising so high he almost choked.

  “Of course. We have to follow her.” Merlin made it sound so matter-of-fact. “Where she goes, we go. It’s imperative if she plans on contacting the Dragon Lords from there. Incapacitating her here is useless if she has some means of contacting them from Mongolia. Unfortunately, I couldn’t read the date on the plane ticket so I don’t know if we are going to be ahead of her or behind her.”

  “How are we supposed to afford tickets to Mongolia?”

  “Oh, I already took care of that. Now, young man, I suggest you start packing for Christmas in Mongolia and say your good-byes to Beverley. And pack light. We’re going to be on the move.”

  “When are our return flights?”

  “I have no idea how long we’re going to be gone, so I only bought one-way tickets.”

  The possible implications of this mad scheme left Jason uneasy, but it was too late to argue and nothing would change even if he did. The only thing that mattered was catching up with Morgana le Fay and putting her out of business permanently.

  Rising from his chair, Merlin said “I’ve already done my travel shopping. Like the shoes?” Lifting his robe, he revealed the suede toes of a new pair of hiking boots. “Now you go talk to Beverley and ask her if she would mind driving us to the rail station Friday morning. Meanwhile, I have preparations to make.”

  “Anything I can help you with?”

  “No, no. I just need to break a corner off the scrying glass.”

  “Why?”

  “A small piece will give me the same image as the entire glass. This way I can take it with me and track Morgana’s movements.”

  * * * *

  “Nice coat.” Beverley leaned out of the Mini’s window, talking to Merlin as he and Jason threw their small hold-alls through the rear hatch.

  “Thank you.” Merlin ran an appreciative hand over the coarse, red-brown fur of his floor length coat. In the relatively mild English weather he had left it unbuttoned, his hair and beard streaming in the gentle breeze. “It’s bear skin.”

  “Oh.” Beverley sounded disappointed and disapproving.

  “I’m sorry, my dear. I know people no longer approve of killing animals for their pelts but I assure you, this poor creature has been dead a very, very long time and there is nothing even Merlin can do to bring it back. Besides, I may well need his help staying warm in Mongolia.”

  “I guess. Well, if you are both ready?”

  Jason was already seated next to Beverley, and as Merlin slammed the rear door, he said. “All ready.”

  The Mini rolled away from the curb and fell into the late morning traffic, inching its way through the ancient center of York.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Cathay Air flight 146 now ready for general boarding at gate 37. Would all passengers please have their boarding passes ready for inspection prior to boarding.” Heathrow Airport’s public address system made the stewardess sound like there were rags stuffed in her mouth.

  Jason was carrying both small pieces of luggage as he and Merlin hurried down the sloping floor leading to the gate. “Damn airports. Damn security.” Jason swore under his breath.

  “Be calm, Jason.”

  “I just really hate airports. Everybody’s always wandering around lost and in a rush at the same time. It makes me crazy.”

  Approaching the boarding gate, Jason turned from Merlin to smile and nod absently at the woman taking tickets from passengers at the end of the catwalk. She flashed a thin, automatic smile, barely acknowledging Jason’s existence, but when her gaze fell on the old man with the long hair and beard, decked out in a floor length gown and massive fur coat, her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Handing her his ticket, Merlin offered a small bow and a nod.

  “I told you; you should have worn your suit. People are staring.”

  “Unless I am grossly mistaken,” Merlin offered slowly, “once we are in Mongolia I shall look far less out of place than you. I hardly imagine a silver parka is standard dress in Ulan Bator.” With that, Merlin flashed a smug grin, stepped ahead of him and headed for the door of the 727.

  Pushing their way down an aisle crowded with passengers jockeying for seats and stowing carry-on luggage in the overhead compartments, Merlin and Jason found their seats near the rear of the plane. Almost apologetically, Merlin spoke, hardly above a whisper. “Would you mind terribly if I took the seat by the window?”

  “Knock yourself out.” Jason stepped aside, still trying to get their hold-alls crammed into the overhead storage area.

  “I just want to see what the world looks like from the sky. I once transformed myself into a hawk, but that hardly compares to this.”

  Quivering with excitement, Merlin glued his face to the window. Throughout take-off he kept up a steady stream of chatter, describing with unabashed amazement the apparent size of objects, the complexity of roads and the immensity of London. At first, it seemed to Jason an oddly child-like reaction, but on reflection, he realized it was not only Merlin’s first plane flight but also his first over-view of the modern world. For fifteen centuries he had spied on every major player in the world from Charlemagne to Hitler, but never, until this moment, had he been able to see just how much the world had changed. When the plane broke through the heavy clouds and floated above an endless blanket of white, Merlin turned from the window, eased himself into his seat with a sigh of satisfaction, and closed his eyes.

  “Merlin.”

  “Hum?”

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  Merlin opened his eyes, turning to look at Jason who squirmed in his seat as though unable to get comfortable. “Certainly not. What is it?”

  “Where are you getting all this money?”

  “What money?”

  “The money you spent on the antique mirror, thousands of pounds for Nemo, tickets to Mongolia. That money. Where is it coming from?”

  “It is real money, if that’s what concerns you.”

  “I guess that’s part of it...” Jason scratched his nose in confusion. “But where did you get it?”

  “The first thousand pounds I got with a ticket.”

  “What do you mean “a ticket”?”

  “A lottery ticket.”

  “How did you manage that? A person is statistically more likely to be hit by a meteor than to win the lottery.”

  “The numbers are written on it, so I bought one that was a winner.”

  “But the numbers are covered with lead paint.”


  Merlin shrugged and rolled his intense, blue eyes innocently.

  Jason shook his head and continued. “And the rest?”

  Merlin sighed as though explaining life to a child. “I bet on a horse.”

  “Where?”

  “At a horse race, where else?”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed to a squint. “You didn’t drug a horse or something?”

  “Certainly not,” Merlin sounded genuinely hurt at the suggestion. “I simply talked to the three favorite horses and asked them if they would mind terribly coming in behind the horse listed as the fourth most likely to win. He was rated at what they call thirteen-to-one odds.”

  Jason stared blankly at Merlin.

  “On my oath,” Merlin raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, chuckling quietly. Then, after a pause during which he stared silently back at Jason, he added. “We needed the money. It’s not as though we’re using it for some selfish purpose. What we’re doing is essential to the survival of the world. We don’t have time to worry about where our money comes from.”

  “Ok. I guess so.” Jason nodded, realizing that petty fraud was the least of their worries.

  Merlin settled back again and closed his eyes. “Now, I need to sleep. Wake me when we get to St. Petersburg.”

  “Don’t you want dinner?”

  Merlin’s eyes flew open. “They feed us?”

  “Probably twice on a flight this long. And there should be a movie and drinks and...”

  As though in counterpoint to Jason’s commentary, a steward pulled a drinks and snack cart next to their seat.

  “Anything for you gentlemen?”

  Merlin leaned across Jason and peered at the selection of soft drinks and liquor on the cart. “Do you have any Jack Daniels?”

  “I’m sorry, no, but we do have Crown Royal. Would that be alright?”

  Merlin looked at Jason who turned to the steward and nodded. Producing a tiny bottle and a plastic glass holding a few ice cubes, he repeated the question for Jason, who declined. When the steward passed to the next row, Jason saw Merlin staring at the miniature bottle after emptying its meager contents into his glass.

  “Do they allow you to have more than one of these?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Apparently satisfied, Merlin tossed back the drink in a single gulp, eased his seat back, closed his eyes and drifted off.

  Despite eleven hours in the air, when the plane landed in central Mongolia, due to the time change, it was only late afternoon. Jason’s explanation of time zones occupied the walk from the plane to the terminal before he made it clear enough to satisfy Merlin’s curiosity.

  Ulan Bator boasted Mongolia’s sole international airport, but it hardly ranked as a world-class facility. The only terminal was an ugly, squat, brick building apparently lacking any amenities. Jason wondered if Mongolia’s capital city was as uninviting as its airport, but since no hint of civilization was visible from where he stood, it was likely the question would remain unanswered. Most of the people in the terminal were oriental and the rest westerners.

  “We need to rent a car.” Merlin said, looking around the dark, tired looking terminal. “Let me ask someone.”

  Taken aback, Jason spluttered out “Who are you going to ask?”

  “Anyone. Ah. That policeman, over there.”

  “Why don’t you just suck the information out of his head like you did to me?” It was intended as sarcasm, but it seemed like a valid question.

  “Because he might not be thinking about what I want to know at the moment. Besides, it can be very dangerous to access someone’s mind while they’re awake,” he said, tapping an index finger against his temple. “I’ll be right back.”

  “But, what if he doesn’t speak...” Jason let the sentence trail off unfinished and trudged along behind Merlin. To his amazement, Merlin addressed the police officer in what Jason took to be fluent Mongolian. Merlin had no problem being understood or, evidently, in understanding the man’s reply.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Learn to speak Mongolian, or whatever it was.”

  “Yes. It was Mongolian.” He said, leading Jason to a table near a large picture window that looked across the runway and onto the wintry, Mongolian plains. “While we were on the plane, coming out of St. Petersburg, I learned Mongolian the same way I learned modern English.”

  “You crept into somebody’s head again?”

  “The technique was the same but the purpose was entirely different. In your case, I was establishing direct contact to learn about your world. That’s why it was so disturbing for you. Here I was only gathering linguistic generalities so they had no idea I was there.”

  “I’m sure that would make them feel better.” Jason said wryly.

  “I know it was difficult for you and I already apologized. This time I simply listened to various conversations until I overheard a language that I assumed was Mongolian and absorbed it.”

  “There’s just something not quite right about that, you know?”

  “Nonsense.” Merlin chuckled. “Now, there is an automobile rental office at the end of this building. I suggest we hire a car.”

  “But, didn’t you say Morgana took a train from Ulan Bator to somewhere?”

  “Yes, and we can find out where she headed when I have time to check my scrying glass. First, we need to make sure we have a car and then find somewhere private. It may take some time to locate her. With luck, she might stop to read a map or a road sign, but I don’t want to stand in the middle of the airport and stare into a broken mirror for hours on end.”

  The cars offered by the rental agency tended toward Land Rovers and Jeeps, nearly all of which had seen better days. There were also a few American luxury cars and a smattering of sub-compacts, but having no idea where Morgana was heading, Jason and Merlin agreed that a four-wheel drive was the safest bet. After climbing into the passenger seat Merlin asked Jason to go find them something to eat, while he searched for their quarry. When Jason returned with a small bag of food and two paper cups of green tea, Merlin was already looking pleased with himself.

  “Any luck?” Jason asked, fighting a howling, frigid wind to climb into the driver’s seat and set the bag and cups next to the gearshift.

  “South.”

  “How did you find that out already?”

  “Simple. From the angle the sun was coming through her railway carriage window.”

  From his hip pocket Jason pulled a road map of Mongolia and ran his finger across the surface until he found Ulan Bator and the airport. Immediately east of their position was a north-south highway; east of this was another road leading in the same direction.

  “We seem to have two roads leading south out of the capitol. Any suggestions as to which one we should try?”

  “Does one of them go to someplace called Saynshand?”

  Jason ran his finger up and down the length of the highways for a minute before answering. “Bingo. Saynshand. How did you know that?”

  “Just before you came back I watched her train pull away from a station where I saw a sign stating that Saynshand was twenty kilometers.”

  “Wow.” Jason said, staring at the map. “She’s way ahead of us. It must be two hundred miles to Saynshand. And it looks like it’s in the middle of the Gobi Desert.”

  “Don’t worry. We have to let her get to where she’s going before confronting her, so just take your time while I keep track of her movements. If you can make it to Saynshand tonight, we will try to find a room there. Once we find her, there is no telling when we will get any more sleep.”

  Jason put the Land Rover into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, heading east. Half an hour later he picked up the road to Saynshand. The landscape around Ulan Bator was the flat, open grassland known as steppe, but within a hundred miles the dead, snow-flecked winter grass disappeared leaving nothing but withered undergrowth and stones. It was bleak and brown, unbroken by
towns, villages or any sign of human habitation. If asked, Jason would have said the only living thing for miles in any direction was the screaming, bitter cold wind. As they neared Saynshand, the last few strands of coarse grass gave up the will to live, surrendering to the vast, inhospitable Gobi desert. The further they traveled, the more the road deteriorated. Within a hundred miles the road degenerated from well kept, two lane pavement to nothing more than hard-packed dirt.

  Saynshand obviously lacked any sophisticated public service like electricity. No ambient light cast its rosy glow into the night the sky to signal approaching civilization and no outskirts stood along the highway leading into the only town on the northeast perimeter of the Gobi. Composed almost entirely of one story buildings built from concrete block, Saynshand was hardly a hub of commerce. The few cars littering the main street were ancient, decrepit things and horse carts and mules outnumbered the cars at least three to one, but even they had a neglected and forlorn look about them. To Jason’s amazement, Merlin did not seem to be in the least depressed by their surroundings.

  “I suppose this looks rather primitive to you, doesn’t it?” The old man offered, craning his head from one side to the other. “It rather looks like home to me.”

  “It reminds you of York?”

  “No, the fifth century. Even London was not much bigger, and certainly no more sophisticated, than this place when I served in the courts of Uther and Arthur.”

  Jason was mulling over the implications of an entire civilization reduced to this level when Merlin interrupted his thoughts. “Pull in there. That’s an inn.”

  Jason peered through the gloom at the tiny building Merlin indicated with his finger. “How can you tell?”

  “Lights in every window and people going in and out of the door.”

  Pulling the car toward the edge of the dusty road, Jason’s only comment was “Whatever you say.”

  When they walked through the low, wooden door, the buzz of conversation died like someone flipped a switch and a half dozen heads turned to stare blankly at the strangers. Merlin smiled and nodded at the tiny crowd, walking straight to the bar where a middle aged man with a long, drooping moustache stood staring at them with cautious curiosity. The instant Merlin addressed him in his own language, the man broke into a broad, gap-toothed grin and came around the bar ushering the strangers to a small table in a corner near the fire. Jabbering back and forth amiably, Merlin and the man seemed to come to some sort of agreement and, his head bobbing in assent, the barkeep hurried off.