The Witch's Hunger (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 3) (5 page)

I ignored him and continued to make and cast spells. This was my fault. Mine. If I hadn't put the sleeping spell on her, she wouldn't be gone. Or worse.

By late afternoon every joint in my hands ached, and I felt empty and ravenous. My chances of finding anything useful were slim to none. But I didn’t stop. There were spells I hadn’t made yet, and the thought that Cleopatra needed my help as the minutes and hours slipped by kept me going.

Then someone knocked on the door.

"Just a minute," I called out from the kitchen.

Merlin was beside me a moment later. The both of us ran to the front room full of humming computers. We stood facing the door as someone knocked again.

I whispered Welsh words to activate defensive spells that lay in two of my shirt buttons, and tore them from the top of my shirt. The first flared and made a ball of white energy that I held in my right hand. Once thrown, it would burn through most known substances on Earth. The second button turned heavy in my left hand. It would trap whoever I hit with it.

Merlin took out his less subtle staff of doom from his bag. He tapped it on the floor once. "Fool of a Took," he muttered. It crackled with a purple magic.

We watched the door and waited. If this was the hunter of immortals, we’d know soon enough. The scritch-scratch of metal on metal filled the air, and then the door swung open.

A short red-haired man stood in the door. He wore skinny jeans, nice leather boots, and a thick flannel shirt. His eyes flicked everywhere quickly, and then he moved into the room like a trained dancer. Or fighter, more likely.

“Merlin, you are well?” he said softly as his gaze settled on me. “Who is she?”

“I am well. It’s good to see you, Duncan. She’s—”

“Who are you?” I asked him and took a step forward. I still held both activated spells, one in each hand.

He looked at both of them, and a thin smile covered his lips. “I’m nobody. Where’s Cleopatra?”

“Gone,” Merlin said.

The smile vanished.

I tightened the grip on my weighted spell. I had no idea who this was and every instinct, witch and animal, was telling me he was extremely dangerous.

“I would think twice about trying to strike that one, my love,” Merlin said softly.

“Love. Your love, mate?” The man spoke softly, but kept all his attention on me. “Good to hear it. Ah dinnae ken that was even possible after that vile witch tore your heart out, long ago.”

“Vile witch?” I said.

“Ah,” the man said. “Then you’re Morgan le Fay, come back to hurt my friend again, are you?”

“This is Duncan,” Merlin said hurriedly and stepped between us. “The Highlander. I’m surprised the two of you never met.”

“I’ve heard many a story about you, lass,” Duncan said lightly, though anger lay beneath the words.

“And I’ve heard tales of your many… adventures, as well.” The Highlander was a great warrior through the many ages of Scotland. How many multitudes of people had he slaughtered? He could be the one attacking immortals.

The man wrapped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “It’s been much too long, you old wizard. You are looking good.”

“And you,” Merlin said warmly.

I discretely muttered the words that would deactivate my spells and slipped them into my pocket in case I would need them later.

“So,” Duncan said and stepped back from both of us, “The truth now. Which one of you has been attacking immortals?”

8

Skinny Malinky Longlegs

I shook my head slowly.

Merlin said, “Not us. We’re here on the hunt, same as you. Perhaps we should put our heads together and tell each other what we know?”

Duncan nodded. “Absolutely. As soon as you tell me how it was Cleopatra was kidnapped in the same flat that a grand witch and wizard was in and neither of you noticed a thing.”

“When we got here there was a nasty scent of magic on the air,” Merlin said. “And this morning as well. Sleeping magicians are easy enough to coax into a sleep like death.”

Merlin caught my eye.

I nodded. My mouth went dry. I hoped Merlin would never know the full truth of his words. “I’ve spent most the day trying to find a way to follow the left-behind magic to its source. Whoever came here is good with spells. Or good at hiring someone who can make spells.”

I watched him for any tells. He was like a jaguar: still and utterly in control of every muscle. He watched me back for a long moment, and then nodded once and turned to Merlin. “Then it is indeed a true pleasure to see you, my old Skinny Malinky Longlegs. Let’s go on a walk.” He glanced at the humming computers scattered across the room.

“You don’t like them either, I see,” Merlin said. He got his coat and mine, and we stepped toward the door. “It’s all this damn modernity everywhere.”

The Highlander pulled out a slick smart phone from his pocket and shook his head. “They amuse me. The apps alone could keep me occupied for weeks. I find them a nice change of pace from the typewriter, or hells, the quill. It’s just…. I’ve read a thing or two about all the Snowden leaks, and all the other leaks as well. There’s too many ways these boxes can get hacked. Too many ways they can listen in on you. Let’s get out of here and go for a walk.” He set his phone down on the table.

Merlin and I shared a startled glance. I had a vague sense of all of that, but in truth, I did not keep up with much news outside of the local politics of Seattle.

Duncan added, “And there’s a wonderful curry shop not too far. I fancy a vindaloo, if you’re up for it.”

“And here I thought we were in London,” Merlin said.

Duncan grinned. “Ah mate, we could get meat pies and ale, but I promise you the curry will be top notch.”

“You always did have a way of fitting into every era you lived in,” Merlin said.

Duncan shrugged and ran a hand over his close-shaved beard. “The trick, Merlin, is not to hold on too tight.” He glanced over at me. “You know I’ve had my share of wives and women over the years. We spend the length of their lifetime together and I love them, truly, and then move on.”

Merlin slipped his hand into mine and his fingers tightened around mine.

It felt good to get out of the apartment and the malingering scent of bitter magic, made all the more bitter by my inability to pierce any of its secrets.

The air outside was warm and heavy with the London stink of too many cars, restaurants, and humans. We made small talk as we drifted south. Block by block, the shops got fancier. I knew London well enough that I could remember different iterations of these streets. Different histories and how it all got rewritten with each era, again and again, and once the newest facade was built? Well, it was its own kind of forgetting spell, wasn’t it? These lovely buildings that insisted they were what London had always looked like, never mind the blood drenched streets.

While we walked, Merlin and Duncan talked. Their Welsh and Scottish accents grew thicker as they filled each other in.

“So you and Morgana? How did that happen?”

“Painfully,” Merlin said. “And quite by accident.”

“Merlin, mate,” Duncan said. “I get the look of her, up and down. She’s a handful and then some, but be careful. Remember what she did to you.”

“I’m right here,” I said.

“Yes you are,” Duncan said curtly. “And I suppose he’s never told you the wreckage you left behind when you left him? I suppose, knowing the kindness of my friend, he never told you about the decades of—”

“Enough, Duncan,” Merlin said quietly, but it was a command. He added, with a note of longing, as though he hoped his words were true, “We’ve all grown older and wiser.”

“Perhaps,” Duncan said, and left it at that.

As we walked through the streets of London, I watched the people we passed. It was mid-afternoon, so it was mostly the old, out and about. I wondered what that would be like: getting old and knowing your life was getting more and more finite as every year passed. I had once known, before the Grail. The Grail. The full weight of Grail hunger coursed through me, sudden and huge. The spell making had kept it at bay, as had my worries about Cleopatra and the drive to do something, anything, to help her. But now we were walking. The men were chitchatting. I glanced at my watch. It was a good five hours before I would be able to slip away and drink. I licked my lips.

"Did you know they made a movie about me?" Duncan said. "Got most of it wrong, they did, but it was bloody entertaining. You've been in some shows, yourself. Yer a handsomer one than they ever give you credit for."

"They named a car after you, as well, didn't they?" Merlin said.

"Aye. A real gas guzzler." He chuckled.

My belly ached. All of me ached and my hands shook. I’d used too much magic in my spell making today. And… the Grail hunger. It was worse today. Much worse. I didn’t want to admit that. I didn’t want it to be true, but all the wanting wouldn’t change it. I’d managed to keep away from the Grail for many centuries. So it made sense that the cup would long for me and that it would be stronger this time around. But where would it all end?

“So. The immortals. Disappearing,” Duncan said as we waited at a corner for the light to change. “Whoever’s been doing the attacking, they’re good. I saw no signs of struggle or strife at the Flamels’ place, nor Tithonus’ quarters."

"We saw no signs of struggle either, at Ada’s. And her artificial intelligence told us the disappeared have nothing in common with each other besides being human and immortal," Merlin said.

"Untrue," the Highlander said quietly.

Merlin and I looked at him. He looked quite pleased with himself.

“The disappeared, including Cleopatra, are all Grail immortal."

As his lips uttered the word Grail, a violent shock coursed through me. How dare he speak of it? The relic was mine and no others should dare say its name. No other should say to my face anything about the Grail. How dare he? The light changed and we crossed the street. I couldn’t help stomping my boots on the asphalt as we walked.

"Tithonus was made immortal by Zeus. And the Flamels by a philosopher's stone, if I recall," Merlin said. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
You okay?
He mouthed.

I made my face go blank and smiled at him.

Duncan shook his head. "Tithonus was conned by a man pretending to be Zeus and offering up immortality in exchange for a mountain of gold. And you know the true trick of the philosopher's stone, don't ye?"

I did. It seemed Merlin did not. He shook his head.

"A philosopher's stone is nothing more than a spelled bit o' granite wetted from Grail water. Lovelace is a lass made from the philosopher's stone. They're all Grail made, same as me. Did you know that? All mythos of the Highlander aside, I drank the water, once upon a very long and ancient time ago."

"Interesting," Merlin said. "That bit of arcana has somehow escaped my learnings. Interesting, too, in that Morgan and I could be targets as well. We drank from the Grail together," He cast a friendly smile my way as I gritted my teeth.

Clenched my fist.

And forced myself not to throw nasty spells at both of them. They needed to stop talking about the Grail. If I kept walking alongside them, I might literally murder one or both of them. I couldn't hear them talk about it as though it were any common thing.

“I have to go.”

"Morgan, what's wrong?" Merlin said, suddenly alert. He put an arm low across my waist.

I made myself breathe deeply. "Nothing. I'm feeling the long day and too much spell making. I’m in a foul and rotten mood. The two of you should go eat. You don’t need me around to sour the day.”

“Nonsense, whither thou goest,” Merlin said with a kind smile.

Duncan eyed me more critically.

“No. I need time to wander and think about the disappearances. I could be a while. Don't wait up. It may be a witchy kind of night where I walk for all the hours of the moon.”

“It’s not safe, Morgan. Let me—”

"No," I almost barked. I made myself breathe again. "No, catch up with your old friend. It isn't every day you get a chance to dine with a legendary Scotsman." I gave them both a forced smile and turned and walked away, willing myself not to run.

"Good to put a face with a name, Morgan," the Highlander called after me.

I walked away from them. I turned left, right, and then left again, glancing behind me each time to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I kept taking random directions until I stood in a narrow cobblestone alley. I checked my watch and did the time conversion to Seattle. It was the middle of the night there. Good. I waited another full two minutes to make sure my wizard or the Highlander wasn’t following me. They weren’t.

I took the crystal ball from my purse and disappeared. I appeared in my store a moment later.

9

Teddy Bear

I appeared inside my store, teleporting in between the racks of dried herbs and some cookbooks that were spellbooks, if done correctly.