Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion (54 page)

Never ever.

“Unfortunately, Jacob, that is not possible.”

I pulled the beer away from my lips
, slopping a bit at the abrupt motion, but took another long pull before setting it down carefully.  I looked at it longingly, but then snapped my head around to look at Merlin.

“Answers,” I ordered.  “Now.”

Glumly, Merlin looked down at the basket of rolls before him – his third – and reluctantly pushed it away.  He wiped his mouth and neat beard with a napkin before shifting in his seat to face me.  He gripped his hands together and dropped them into his lap, causing me to notice how his cargo shorts rode
way
too high up his thighs when he sat down.

“What do you want to know?”
  He asked.

“Do you know about the orb?”

“Of course.”

“Is it a time machine?”

“If such a moniker makes you more able to understand what it does, then yes.”

I set my shoulders and pressed on, each of his answers building my confidence and alleviating years of tension.

“Is it yours?”

“It was mine once, yes.”

“Are you a Druid?”

He smiled.  “No
… but also yes.”

“Explain.”

“Not right now, Jacob.  Continue with your questions first.”

“Did you give it to Remus?”

“Ah, well, that answer would also be best left for later.”

I rolled my eyes angrily, but I couldn’t stop now.
  “The first time I used it, when I connected with Varus’ orb and it brought me to Ancient Rome, was it merely an accident or was there some kind of… greater power at work?”

Merlin smiled and spread his hands wide
.  “A happy accident, Jacob.  I, at least, am enjoying this immensely.”

“Was the way we used it the right way?”

“What defines, ‘right,’ Jacob?  You used it and it did something.  What more is needed?”

“But did we fuck it up or something?  Did we break it?  Did we do something wrong?”

“No to the first two questions, but your last seems like a matter of perspective to me.”

I ground my teeth, steeling myself for my final
three questions.

“Is it driving me insane?”

The answer came immediately. “Yes.”

I grimaced
.

“How?”  I asked, fearing the answer.

“You’ve figured that one out quite easily on your own, Jacob,” Merlin answered.  “Your visions were merely the first step in your addiction as the orb took control.  In your lowest moments, when you were at your most tired or vulnerable, it infiltrated your subconscious until it had complete control of your mind.  It then worked as the drug you so aptly compared it to, as it offered you alleviations to cravings it had provided in the form of emotions, and you learned to associate those negative emotions and dark choices with pleasure and happiness.  This association may have lasted for quite a while, but I assure you that by the time the orb was finished with you, it would have twisted your mind into something beastly and evil.  Quite fascinating, is it not?”

I stared at him
, thinking of a new question.  “Why give me such a straightforward, if melodramatic, answer to
that
question, but none of the others?”

He shrugged.  “You asked a
straight forward question, so I gave you a straight forward answer.”

I gritted my teeth
again, but pushed on and forced my final, two-part question from my mouth, dreading the answer.

“Can we use
the orb to go home?  Our real home?”

Merlin didn’t answer immediately.  He looked at me with a hint of sadness in his eyes
.

Finally, he answered.
  “No.”

My heart sunk again and I closed my eyes.  I dropped my head and felt like falling asleep, perhaps more because of the alcohol than his answer, but I fo
rced myself to look up.

When I opened my eyes
, the scene before me had changed.

No longer was the restaurant a bustling eatery with patrons and staff eating or working.  Instead, it was completely empty.  I looked
over the bar, but even Foxtrot Alpha had disappeared.  I glanced down, looking for the coaster with her number on it, but it too was gone.  The number written there eluded me as well, but her name, Tiffany, remained.

I looked back at Merlin, but his head was turned to the right, looking off
toward another section of tables near the middle of the restaurant.  I followed his look and noticed a young man moving through the central aisle, a wide push broom in his hands as he swept a sea of peanut shells from the ground.

I stood and moved over to him, recognizing him immediately.

It was me at sixteen, zits and extra body fat and all.  Although not quite as tall as I was now, his facial features were all the same, only softened by youth, inexperience, and too much fast food.  I’d always been a bit of a baby face, even throughout my early college years, and it hadn’t been until I started working out and getting serious about my image that I’d morphed into the man I was today – only minus the last five years of stress and scars, I suppose.

He
didn’t even notice me as I walked up to him, but I could see the anger in his eyes and subtle movement of his lips as he muttered to himself.  I couldn’t exactly make out what he was saying, but I was sure it had something to do with being put on to close the restaurant when I wasn’t normally scheduled to do that.

“You were always such an angry child, Jacob,” Merlin said from behind me.  “
It wasn’t all your fault, and I think you grew out of it quite nicely as you aged, but ever since, you have carried with you a jaded sense of mistrust, anger, and superiority because of it.  Most unfortunate.”

I reached out to touch my younger self’s shoulder, but even though I made contact with him, he didn’t flinch.  I squeezed his arm reassuringly
but something told me he had no idea I was there at all.

“Who are you?” I asked Merlin again as I stared at my younger self.
  “Tell me.”

“You already know, Jacob.”

I whirled away from my younger self, but when I turned, I found the scene had once again changed.  Instead of the restaurant, I was in my old home, the one I’d spent my entire teenage life in and the one I’d always come back to during college vacations and shore leaves.  My initial reaction was a bout of joy at seeing it exactly the way I remembered it, but then a sense of homesickness set in, followed by anger at Merlin if he did what I thought he was about to do.

“Don’t
you show her!”  I yelled at him.  “Don’t you dare!  I don’t want to see her.  If you do, I’ll…”

“You’ll what, Jacob?  Shoot me?”

On instinct, I reached for my pistol, but it wasn’t there.  In fact, I wasn’t clothed in my combat fatigues at all, but in a pair of professional looking khakis and a colored dress shirt with a tie around my neck.  It was exactly what I’d worn nearly every day during high school.

“I know the pain you feel surrounding your mother and her death, Jacob,” Merlin
said, snapping my attention back to him.  “And I would never do anything to purposefully hurt you, so I assure you, the home is empty and will remain that way if you choose.  Now, please, sit down.”

He gestured to a large and
uncomfortable looking chair, one I also recognized.

My parents had never been wealthy, but they’d always ha
d some money, and my mom had been as thrifty as any good mom could be, but she’d had a taste for the fancy, elegant life as well.  She’d always been the cultured one in our family, and always expecting nice things, so she’d outfitted our small den to look like an eighteenth century British study or library.  It had always seemed sophisticated and quaint, and while everything looked authentic enough, I knew that she’d only managed it by scouring a thousand garage sales and thrift stores, making do with what she could find.

Cautiously, I walked over to the large,
high-backed sage green chair, a duplicate of the one Merlin now sat in.  The fireplace across from us was ablaze, and the room was dark besides the light emanating from the flames.  Outside the window I could see the sun was still out, but the shades were drawn, giving the room a cozy and decadent appearance, just the way mom had always liked it.

I sat down and glanced at the chess board that sat between
the two chairs.  It was one of the fancier and more expensive items my mom had splurged on, and I had to admit that it had always been a stunning centerpiece.  Elaborate and handcrafted, it looked more artistic than functional, but I knew that it was.  At least once a week after school, my mom and I would sit down and play a match atop this very table.  While the time between matches had lengthened as I’d grown older, my mom and I had always tried to fit in at least one match every time I came home.

And she
had kicked my ass at it nearly every time.

I studied the pieces, fi
nding myself unsurprised that they were the same ones we had always played with.  In lieu of a fancy, traditional chess set with your generic pawns, knights, castles, and the rest, my mother had allowed me to purchase a rather unique set of pieces when I was eleven.  It consisted of mythological figures from a number of time periods and cultures, and instead of the pieces being black or white as a traditional chess set might be, these armies were distinguished by the colors red and blue.

I smiled as I looked at my loyal blue army, its pieces completely different from its opposing color’s equivalent
since it was a Monsters versus. Heroes set.  I picked up one of my pawns, represented in this set by a ferocious naga – some kind of aggressive sea monster that carried a trident and had long, sharp teeth and appeared much like a serpent.  My mother’s equivalent red pawns were a line of Greek warriors, who she always liked to think of as a squad of Myrmidons, the army Achilles had brought with him to Troy.

I set my pawn down when something
else caught my eye.  I reached over and picked up my mother’s bishop.  It was a wizard who appeared much like Merlin had upon our first meeting, right down to his red colored robes with small half-moons stitched into them.

I held it up to him and smirked.

“Friend of yours?”  I asked.

He returned the smile warmly
, and gestured at the piece from his seated position with his elbow still on the armrest.  “I had hoped such an appearance would have been of some comfort to you.”

“Well, I guess you succeeded,” I said as I put the wizard back in its appropriate spot.

I looked back at my army and nodded appreciatively, crossing my arms and tightening them around my stomach comfortingly.  “God, I used to love this chess set,” I said.  “I always thought it was so cool.  Monster versus heroes!  It can’t get much better than that, right?”

Merlin nodded.  “To a young, curious mind, I can think of little else that
could.”

I picked up my king,
easily the largest piece on the board, represented by an intimidating, fire breathing dragon.  I held it in my hand and smiled, remembering my childhood self thinking it had been the most badass thing ever.  I glanced at my mother’s king, represented by none other than, and appropriately so, King Arthur himself.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” I said
, rotating the dragon in front of my eyes carefully, “but this dragon got thrown against the wall quite often, and not because I was testing if he could fly or not.  Your boy over there was a good king.”

Merlin nodded slowly and reached out to pick up King Arthur.  “He will be.”

I rocked backward in surprise.  “Wait… what?”

“He will be,” Merlin repeated, still staring at the piece.

“How can you possibly know that?”  I asked, but then another thought set in.  “Wait a second, before you answer that, are you actually sitting her confirming to me that Arthur was a real guy?”

“Not yet, but he will be.”

“How can you possibly know that?”  I asked again, having forgotten I’d already asked the same thing.

Merlin sighed and looked at me patiently.  He leaned back into his chair, still holding the piece in his lap.  He sat there for a few moments, studying me, looking ridiculous in his old man’s tourist outfit, but finally he placed Arthur down on the edge of the table.

“I can read your mind and conjure memories from it,” he said, “and yet it surprises you that I can see the future?”

I looked at him, amazement finally settling in over the capabilities
this man possessed, as well as their ramifications.

“If you can see the future,
why can’t you help me?”

He shook his head.  “The only future I can see is my own, and sadly, that does not include you past
today.”

I sat there unimpressed.  “Seems kind of limiting… aren’t you supposed to be a wizard?
  What kind of magic is that?”