The Old Magic (10 page)

“I don’t know.” He’d been as surprised as Nimue when the branch had begun to grow. He glanced toward it. “I don’t know. What
did I do?”

“Well whatever it was, it saved my life,” Nimue said. “You deserve one more kiss for that.” Boldly, she pressed her lips to
his.

“Only one?” Merlin said, laughing, and Nimue kissed him again.

But the moment could not last, and Nimue pushed herself to her feet, staggering with the weight of her mud-encrusted skirts.

“I have to get back to the others. They’ll be looking for me,” she said.

“I’ll take you,” Merlin answered. He ran to catch her horse, and led it back for her to mount. “Now that I’ve found you, I
don’t want you to get lost again.”

Once they were gone, a small shrub at the edge of the clearing took a few cautious steps forward. The leaves shimmered as
it turned from a shrub to a crouching gnome. Frik straightened up, groaning as he stretched.

“I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered, plucking a sprig of greenery from behind his ear and tossing it away, then brushing
himself off. Leaves and bits of twig fell to the ground.

Glancing around once more to see that he was not observed, Frik stepped cautiously over to the branch that Merlin had tossed
aside. Picking it up, he held it under his nose and sniffed it thoroughly, then bit it cautiously.

“Yes, indeed,” he said aloud. Whatever he had discovered from his examination of the branch pleased him, because he tossed
it back to the ground and rubbed his hands together.

“Young Merlin is using magic. Won’t Her Majesty be pleased? I must tell her at once.”

There was a flickering shimmer, and Frik vanished.

Merlin led Nimue’s horse through the forest. She was seated on its back, her skirts still dripping mud. She smiled down at
Merlin. “You must come and visit me at my father’s castle. I can’t wait to tell him how brave you were.”

Merlin smiled, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He knew he’d done the right thing by saving Nimue, but at the same time he
felt guilty, as if he’d done something terribly wrong. What he could do frightened as well as elated him. The magic seemed
to bubble through his veins, daring him to use it again. He suspected that this was what Ambrosia had warned him about, but
why wouldn’t she want him to do something that was so much a part of him?

“Merlin?” Nimue said, and his brooding thoughts vanished. He smiled up at her.

“Tell me about yourself,” Nimue urged.

“Oh,” Merlin said, suddenly shy. “I’m not very interesting. I’d rather hear about you.”

“Well,
I’m
not very interesting,” Nimue teased. “I grew up at Avalon Abbey among the holy sisters there. This is the first time I’ve
been away from there since I went there as a little girl.”

“Well, I’ve never left the forest at all,” Merlin said. “I was born here and I’ve lived all my life here. I can’t imagine
living anywhere else.”

“That sounds nice,” said Nimue. She leaned forward to touch his hair, but just then they heard the sound of voices calling
her name. “Oh,” she said, sounding a little disappointed. “They’ve found me.”

“I should go,” Merlin said, stopping. He looked around. It was later than he’d thought it was—Aunt Ambrosia would have dinner
on the table and be wondering where he was.

“No!” Nimue said.

She reached for him, but he stepped back, shaking his head. And they’d laughed at his clothes before— the next time he saw
them he wanted to make a grand impression, to be worthy of Nimue.

“No,” he said. “They’d just ask a hundred questions and not believe any of the answers. It’s better this way. Don’t tell them
about me—about the magic.” He handed her the reins. He wasn’t sure why it was so important to keep the magic a secret, but
his heart told him this was the right choice.

“But where are you going? Merlin!” Nimue cried.

“Home—I’m late for dinner,” Merlin called over his shoulder. “But don’t worry. I’ll see you again— soon.”

“I know you will,” Nimue said, smiling. “I’ve seen it.”

Queen Mab sat on a throne made of darkness in the center of her palace in the Hollow Hills. She could sense the years passing
in the world outside the Land of Magic, but here there was no time at all. It seemed only moments since she’d relinquished
the baby Merlin into Ambrosia’s care, and she still suspected that the priestess had tricked her somehow.

But no matter. Today, the day she had waited for from the moment she had first conceived her plan, had come at last. Merlin
had used his magic.

Mab hugged herself in triumph, then gazed upward, toward the World of Men. She had sensed it the moment it had happened. The
echoes of his act had swept through the living rock and made Mab’s crystal cave ring with the sound of fairy bells. She felt
a wild excitement rising in her blood. The eve of her people’s deliverance was at hand. In the moment Merlin had called upon
the magical power that was her gift to him, he had set foot upon the path that led to his destiny and bound himself to her
forever.

“He’s mine now—and he’ll never leave me!” she whispered.

“Madame!” Frik bustled in, breathless. He was wearing fringed buckskins and a coonskin cap, and carried a rifle in his hand.
Another of his ridiculous masquerades. Mab flicked her fingers, and the rifle turned into a snake.

“Eek!” Frik squealed, startled into dropping it. The snake slithered across the floor and then turned into a length of rope.
Frik stared at it forlornly.

“Well?” Mab demanded. “Now that you’ve disturbed me: Why?”

“Great news, Madame,” Frik said. “News that you’ve been waiting for. I’ve been spying on Ambrosia, just as you directed. Well,
today I thought that just for a change I’d follow young Master Merlin about—just for a bit of diversion, you know—and what
do you think I found? Master Merlin has used his magic!”

Mab rose to her feet, fists clenched. Her green eyes burned into Frik’s until his face lost its pleased expression. “Don’t
you think I know that? Do you think that my child—
mine
—could embrace his birthright without my knowledge? I am the Queen of the Old Ways, the mistress of all magic!”

“Go!” she commanded. “Bring my son to me!”

Merlin ran through the woods toward Ambrosia’s hut. He’d stopped along the way to try to wash the worst of the mud off, but
the attempt hadn’t been much of a success. Water was still dripping from his tunic and breeches when he reached the hut, bursting
with news.

“I’ve seen her!” he said as he came through the door. “The most beautiful girl in the world, the only girl I’ll ever love,
I know it. And she loves me, and we’ll love each other always.”

Ambrosia looked up and smiled as she saw him, then her expression sharpened into one of motherly concern. “What are you babbling
about, young Merlin?” she scolded affectionately. “And you’re dripping wet! Off with those clothes!”

He pulled his tunic off over his head as Ambrosia went to get a towel out of the linen chest. She carried it over and began
vigorously drying his hair. “You’ll catch your death,” she chided, but Merlin was still thinking about Nimue.

“I’m a hero, too; I saved her.”

“Saved who?” asked Ambrosia. “From what?”

“Nimue—Nimue—Nimue—” Merlin sang. “She’s the daughter of some lord. She fell into a mudhole and I saved her.”

“Very brave of you, dear,” Ambrosia said, draping the towel about his shoulders. But Merlin could tell her attention was wandering,
and he was determined to regain it.

“But the extraordinary thing was
how
I saved her. I took this branch, and I somehow made it grow.”

Caught up in his own retelling, Merlin did not see the expression on his foster-mother’s face. Her face had gone grim, and
she took a step backwards.

“I know it sounds impossible,” Merlin went on, “but I said, ‘Grow! Grow!’ and somehow, that made it grow, and … what’s the
matter, Auntie A?”

He grabbed her as she swayed dizzily. Her face had gone pale and suddenly all the laugh lines in it had disappeared.

“Tell me what’s the matter!” Merlin demanded.

“It’s the moment I’ve been dreading all these years … since the very day you were born. Merlin, it’s time for you to leave.”

“Leave?” Merlin said, confused. “I don’t understand.”

Ambrosia sighed heavily as she settled into the chair beside the hearth. She stared into the flames for a long moment before
she spoke, as if she were gathering her strength. “I’ve never told you how you came to be born—nor much about the Old Ways.
Was that a mistake? I don’t know. If it was, it’s too late to mend it now. But long before you were born, I served the Queen
of the Old Ways, until … well, let’s just say we agreed to differ. I left off being a priestess, and I wandered until I came
to Avalon. There I met your mother, Elissa.”

Merlin knelt beside her chair. He was fascinated. Ambrosia had never been willing to talk about his past before. “And my father?”
he asked eagerly.

“Let me tell this in my own way,” Ambrosia said, patting his hand. “In those days, the Holy Grail of the new religion was
still at Avalon, and Elissa was training to be one of those who watched over it. When the Grail vanished and she was cast
out of Avalon, I brought her here to the forest to live with me, and soon you were born. I raised you and loved you, because
you were a very special child.”

“But—” Merlin began.

“You have no father, you see,” Ambrosia said. “There’s magic at work here. You were created by Queen Mab to be her champion,
and that’s why Elissa died giving birth to you. When you were born, Mab claimed you as her son, but I made her leave you with
me, so you could grow up in your mother’s world. But you are half Mab’s as well, so she proclaimed that you could stay here
only as long as you never called upon the magic of the Old Ways. Now you have, and she wants you to join her.”

“I won’t go!” Merlin said. “I’ll defy her.”

Ambrosia reached out and ruffled Merlin’s damp hair. “You have no choice, my dear. You cannot fight her—not yet.” She lifted
his chin and made him look at her. “You must be brave. Your time will come.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Merlin said. He buried his face in her lap.

Suddenly there was a sizzling sound, like bacon being dropped onto a hot skillet. A bright light like the noonday sun shone
through the open door of the hut. Ambrosia gasped, and Merlin raised his head.

*Come with me, Master Merlin.*

For a moment Merlin thought it was the white stag, come back again, but this magic was far more powerful. A white horse stood
at the edge of the clearing, glowing as brightly as a candle flame. He seemed to be standing just above the ground, his silver
hooves not even touching the earth.

*You’re to come with me. I will take you to the Land of Magic.*
The horse tossed his head, and Merlin could see that he wore a saddle and bridle of gleaming gold.

“He’s talking to me,” Merlin said slowly. He got to his feet and stood, staring at the horse. His heart beat with excitement
and fear. The magic was part of him. It was his destiny. But at the same time, it was a giant step into the unknown, and one
he was reluctant to take. “He says I have to go with him. I don’t, do I, Auntie A?”

Behind him, Ambrosia was rummaging through a clothes chest. She pulled out his best tunic, and a warm cloak of new wool that
she’d spent the whole summer making. She came up beside Merlin and handed him the tunic. Once he’d struggled into it, she
wrapped the cloak around his shoulders.

“This will keep you warm on cold nights,” she said, not answering his question.

Merlin searched her face, beginning to be more afraid than excited. The only mother he’d ever known was sending him away to
live with the mysterious and powerful Queen of the Old Ways. Merlin wrapped the cloak about himself, looking from the shining
stallion to Ambrosia.

“Auntie A—” he began.

“Now, now, chin up,” she said, interrupting what he’d been about to say. “Remember what Herne and Blaise and I have told you.
Magic has no power over the human heart, and in her way, as far as she can, I suppose Mab does love you. Just don’t forget
what I taught you. Never stop trying to be good and fighting for what’s right.”

“I won’t. I love you, Auntie A,” Merlin said.

Ambrosia hugged him fiercely, as if this might be the last time. “And tell Her Royal High and Mighty Queen Mab that magic
or no magic, if she hurts you in any way, I’ll have her guts for garters!” She kissed him firmly on the forehead.

Merlin stepped back. His eye fell on the pieces of the milk jug he’d broken, waiting on a shelf for someone to mend them.
Had it only been this morning that he’d broken them? It seemed as if he’d lived a lifetime since then.

“Go on,” Ambrosia whispered, smiling.

Merlin raised his hand in a half-wave, then turned and began to trudge toward the impatiently-waiting white horse. By the
time he was halfway across the clearing, the lighthearted optimism of youth had reasserted itself, and he was running to embrace
his destiny.

Ambrosia watched Merlin mount the white horse and ride away. When she was sure he could no longer see her, her face crumpled
into tears, and she raised her apron to cover her eyes.

Of all the things she’d ever done in her life, the hardest thing of all of them had been to let him ride to Mab without a
single word of warning.

The horse beneath him ran like the wind, and instead of hoofbeats, Merlin heard the sound of silver bells. All around him,
the familiar forest was subtly different, as if now he saw it through different eyes. Tiny winged people flitted through the
air, their voices as high and shrill as bats’. At the roots of trees were diminutive figures wearing pointed red caps and
bright green coats. Perched on a tree branch, a griffin watched him hungrily, fanning its golden wings.

“Where are we going?” Merlin shouted to his mount. Though he’d never ridden before, he had no trouble staying on the animal’s
back. It was as if anything involving magic was somehow familiar to him.