Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

Merlyn

Six Years Ago

 

The video was slanted, because Merlyn couldn’t get the camera to sit right on the desk.  By and large, wizards were not particularly adept at technology.  They liked spells not circuit boards.  He was pleased that he could just get the damn thing to turn on.  The quality of the recording didn’t matter to him, nearly so much as the message he needed to leave for his daughter.

“Guinevere.”  He cleared his throat, looking directly into the lens.  “I’ve long remembered my death, so I know it approaches.  It will not be painful or frightening.  I’ll simply go to sleep and wake up in another world. Truly, I’m excited to see what wonders await me on the other side, so I do not want you to mourn.  You have been the light of my life.  Every day with you has...”

He stopped his heartfelt speech, as one of the tripod legs slipped.  The camera toppled over, still recording.  “Hang on.”  Merlyn propped it back up, but now it was really off-center.

Oh, bothering frogs-legs.

He looked around in irritation and grabbed an ancient scroll detailing stories of the Fountain of Youth from the cluttered desktop.  The healing waters would do Merlyn no good, but he enjoyed reading the legends.  Also, the text was the perfect width to right the tripod.  He wedged it under one side and grunted in satisfaction.  Better.

Kind of.

“In any case,” he told the cockeyed lens, “I wanted to leave you this message, since I’ll be gone soon.  I know you only married Arthur, because I convinced you.  I know that, in your heart, you’re waiting for another.  And that man will be the Right Man.  The one you’re dreaming of.  I promise you.  I’ve seen him and where he comes from, so I know he will recognize your value.  You and your daughter will be everything to him.”

Was that red light supposed to be on?  Merlyn paused to adjust the tripod again, knocking it even more askew.  The little icon on the camera’s display said it was still taping, though, so he kept going.

“Arthur is nothing.”  He waved a dismissive hand.  “I regret that your life had to intersect with his, at all.  But, he is a temporary problem.  The child is all that will matter to you, in the end.”  Merlyn’s deepest regret was that he’d miss meeting his granddaughter.  “The sorceress you carry now, will make this world a far better place, Guinevere.  Always listen to her visions.  She will become the Great Queen and you will love her more than you can imagine.”  He smiled.  “As I love you.”

The battery began to blink that it was running low on power.  How could it be running low on power?  It was plugged into the wall.  Had it come free somehow?  Midas fiddled with the cord, but everything was still connected.  Giving up on the tangle of wires, Merlyn decided to complete his message before the camera shut off, all together.

Why in Hecate’s name did anyone prefer technology to magic?  It was all so baffling.

“The wand,” he told Gwen, “I am leaving for you.  It has a mind of its own sometimes, as you know.  It finds its way into whole other lands and other hands with shocking regularity.”  He rolled his eyes in exasperation.  “It has the best of intentions, of course, so just let it do what it will.  I don’t see how you can stop it, really.  I certainly couldn’t.”

Merlyn had no doubt that his wand had plenty of plans, for after he was gone.  It was more of a pet than an instrument of magic.  He’d perhaps put a dollop of extra independence in when he enspelled the thing.  Maybe a bit too much optimism, mixed with a touch a sneakiness.  The wand wanted to save the world and had its own ideas of how to make it happen.

Hopefully, everyone it wanted to “help” would survive its enchanted assistance.

“It takes a level six talent to control the blasted thing properly and I’m the last of those in Camelot.”  He warned Gwen.  “At least until your daughter comes of age.  Until then, just stay out of its way and don’t worry.  You’ll be able to use it to cleanse the kingdom.  The wand only wants to do Good.”

Wait… had he told her about Dark Science coming?  Merlyn squinted a bit, trying to remember in both directions.  That was always a challenge.  Well, either way, she would figure it all out.  His daughter was bright as sunshine.  He just needed to explain about his plan.

“When you need the wand, you will be able to find it.  I have it sealed up tightly with magic, so it won’t wander off.  It won’t be happy, but at least no one else will be able to steal it.”  Merlyn nodded, pleased with himself for recalling the details.  “So, it will be vital that you retrieve it yourself, just as soon as…”  He stopped, tilting his head.

Hang on, had he told her where he hid it?

That seemed important.  He should probably be sure.  “I put the wand in the last place he’d ever want to look.  Did I tell you?  I think it’s quite clever actually.  All you have to do is go to the…”

The camera died.

A puff of ominous black smoke emanated from the computerized guts of the gadget, a sure sign that it would never work again.  Merlyn had seen the same thing happen with his phone, his toaster oven, and all his ceiling fans.

He made a face.  Well, no matter.  He’d recorded most of the message.  Gwen would figure out the rest.  Like him, his daughter was very logical.