Ever My Merlin

chapter 7 – IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF ALEXANDER, SON OF ZEUS

Adam’s Peak. Fifty-two hundred steps. Three hours of climbing uphill to get to the top. It took us four. Not because we stopped to enjoy one of the numerous bakeries or tea shops that lined the trail to enjoy a meal together—no, because it takes two people actually talking to each other to know when the other one has wandered off.

Even though the bed was comfortable, I didn’t get any sleep. I always figured when my heart fixed on someone there would be a sense of completion—instead I only got complication. Just the thought of Vane hurt. With Matt, I kept seeing the accusation in his gaze.

The flat steps were packed, even in the middle of the night, and especially during Vesak Poya season. Tourists and pilgrims flocked together up the mountain staircase. In the middle of the jungle, electric lights illuminated our path and chanting blared from loud speakers, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that was also heavily laden with incense.

Matt did a lot of backtracking down the trail to keep me in view as I enjoyed the sights—pocket villages, a few friendly dogs, statues of Buddha and Ganesha, along with small flags hung on ropes over the trail. I spent most of what little cash I had on the young children selling cheap souvenirs. Soon I had a collection of buttons, small flags, and stickers decorating my backpack.

Matt’s impatient looks and even the insistent sprinkling of rain failed to make me hurry. It’s not as if I was purposefully trying to irritate him, but I didn’t feel the need to cater to his wants either. Approaching the top, the rain worsened and I gripped the railings to keep steady on the slippery, wet stone steps. Matt pulled out two plastic ponchos from his bag of tricks. I pulled one over my burnt-orange fleece. The green cargos I wore weren’t completely waterproof, so my best hope was for them to dry quickly. Matt’s outfit showed more preparedness. He wore a lined, burnt-orange jacket and green hiking pants. Although it wasn’t planned, our colors matched. At least we complemented each other on some small level.

A few steps up, the scenery changed from jungle to cloud forest as the mist reflected various diaphanous shapes in the air. Graffiti marked the rocks with names and countries of origin of the former fellow travelers who’d come before us. Just before we reached the top, shivering from the gusts of wind, Matt picked up a few lotus flowers from a street vendor. For a second, I thought he’d bought them for me. When he tucked them into his shoulder bag, I told myself there was no pang of disappointment.

Scores of people crowded the last steps in the misting rain. Nearly at the summit, a screeching blackbird flew over us as we poured into two narrow buildings. The buildings stood on either side of the steps, packing us in like sardines in a tin.

I could barely perceive the outline of the tiered rooftop on the Buddhist temple clinging to the mountain’s peak. The triangular roof was said to match the perfect triangle of the mountain’s shadow. I clung to Matt’s hand to keep from falling.

Passing the crowd of shivering bodies, we finally emerged onto the narrow steps of a flat, white stone terrace. A huddle of buildings spanned the two levels of the summit. On the lower level were guest quarters for overnight stays. On the second level, just above the stairs, stood a belfry. A pilgrim could ring a tin bell once for every time he or she ascended the mountain.

We took off our shoes in deference to the holy ground. Along the two levels penned in by concrete ledges, people lined up to gaze out at the misty vistas of Sri Lanka. In one corner, a gorgeous view showed a cascade of waterfalls flowing down in faint silver, accenting dense green vegetation somewhere far across the island.

Matt pulled me toward the center of the terrace. A huge rock face marked the highest point of the peak. Over the rock, a concrete walkway supported a shrine and a small temple. The tiny shrine enclosed the sacred footprint, or Sri Pada.

Matt handed me one of the lotus flowers he’d bought.

“For luck,” he said, and pointed to the top of the rock at the foot of the shrine. Touched by the sweet gesture, I placed it there. Many other lotus flowers decorated the rock. People crowded the railings, standing on top of small ledges, and taking up most of the free space in front of the temple. Fat raindrops wiggled down from the stormy sky. I looked into the sodden faces of the throng. I doubted we’d be seeing any sort of sunrise. Seeing their dour expressions, I knew they’d come to the same realization about the sunrise.

Matt cursed under his breath and squeezed back across the narrow space between drenched bodies until he reached one corner of the terrace. He drew out an amulet from the magic bag and put it on around his neck, shouting, “Kavas.”

People closest to us watched curiously, but thanks to the diversity of cultures and people, no one commented. Dark rain clouds began to clear. People first muttered, then cheered. They moved toward the outward edges of the terrace. Meanwhile, Matt hurried us in the opposite direction, back toward the sacred footprint shrine. He stopped at the base of the stairs that led up to the shrine, sandwiched between several hundred people.

Matt leaned close to my ear. “Be ready. As soon as the sun rises, the priests will start their prayer procession and the mountain will fall into shadow for twenty minutes.”

Two minutes later, the beginnings of the most beautiful sunrise ever conceived broke over the summit as the clouds dissipated. An invisible Apollo rode his chariot across the heavens, ushering in the blue sky. The yellow-and-red fingers of the dawn dropped down and fire illuminated the dark island. On one side of the island, majestic mountains, lush green flora, snaked with silvery threads of waterfalls, sprouted from the fertile ground. On the other side, blue and purple lines evidenced a distant ocean.

Beside us, the morning prayer procession started down the temple steps in a thumping of drums. In a parade of saffron orange-yellow robes, monks emerged from the temple and everyone beside us turned to look. Those inside the shrine came out to stand on the steps. They watched the musicians in white muslin. Some banged on drums, some blew on trumpets, and others chanted. Beside us, the pilgrims held up platters of food and rice.

Matt and I snuck up the steps and into the emptied walkway. Matt and I snuck up the steps and into the emptied walkway. Plastic curtains kept out rain, protecting the closet-sized five-foot wide shrine. The shrine itself had two open sides, but a wall of people’s backs closed off the walkway. Inside the cramped interior of the shrine, a golden half-door hung open above a platform. Curtains of white and yellow cloth draped the opening of the platform. Inside the cubby-like area lay the engraved footprint.

Matt drew out a vial from his bag and threw it above us. A bubble of blue magic surrounded us before it winked out. Without a word to me, he threw another vial at the rock. The rock blew apart, and with an ear-deafening bang, shrapnel flew at me.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, mindful of the people walling us in. They remained with their backs to us, their demeanors unperturbed.

“No one can hear outside the bubble,” Matt said calmly.

“I hate treasure hunting with you.” I eyed the people nervously, but no mob turned on us. Still, my nerves danced in panic. “Please tell me why you destroyed a sacred relic.”

Matt pushed aside the broken rock. Just beneath the footprint he blew up sat another one. “This is the real relic. The top is only a plaster replica.”

Outside, sunrise fully embraced the sky. People started to fall out of its trance.

I stared at the footprint. Smaller and rougher than the plaster one, it did look like it could belong to a thirty-five-foot-tall giant or a god. Buddha or Shiva’s foot as he stepped on Earth, or Adam’s footprint after his exile from the Garden of Eden. Buddha or Shiva’s foot as he stepped on Earth, or Adam’s footprint after his exile from the Garden of Eden. “I don’t see the Healing Cup.”

Matt frowned. “I thought there would be some kind of symbol or something.”

“You’re insane, Merlin,” I hissed. “I thought you knew what you were doing.”

“This is the spot. Adam’s Peak. All the different legends converge here. The Buddhist’s say the Triple Gem, their holy trinity, manifests when the shadow falls over the mountain during sunrise. Alexander the Great thought the same.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

Matt ignored me and continued to mutter, “He came here. He had to be right. This place is marked by the legends of gods. If they hid a secret, it will be here. They wouldn’t leave a marker like this for no reason.”

“They who?” From the open sides of the shrine, a burst of sunlight streamed onto the rock. I stepped closer to the exposed footprint and the rock started to hum. Out of instinct, I put my hand over the footprint. A shot of electricity from the rock zapped my hand. I pulled my hand back and shook it. “Whoa, what was that?”

Matt’s face brightened. “A small portal.”

“Like the one at the Seven Gables?”

Matt nodded.

“That was not fun.” Watery death surrounded that portal. Matt drew out another vial from the bag. I grabbed his wrist. “You are not going to desecrate a sacred relic.”

Matt smiled. “It’s just your blood.”

I squawked. “How do you have my blood?”

“Blood donations. After you became the sword-bearer, the First Member recovered all the deposits you’ve ever made.”

“That’s just creepy.”

He raised a brow. “Vane tracked them all down.”

“Really creepy,” I repeated.

It reinforced my belief that I was just another commodity to the Wizard Council. Nearby us, people groaned. Grey rain clouds started to darken the horizon once more.

“Hurry,” I urged.

Matt drew out another lotus bloom and threw it down. He poured the blood onto the footprint, on the heel at the same spot where the sunlight touched. Immediately, the rock rumbled. A small vortex of wind swirled around the room. A single beam of gold light shone upwards. Inside the beam shimmered a square metal cross. It was about a foot long with symbols engraved down one stem, the stipes. A red gem sat at the center of the cross like an ancient eye.

“It’s a Greek cross,” Matt said.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen it before. The Lady wore this on a chain.” Matt reached out to take it.

I stopped him. “No, let me. It was my blood that opened it.”

Matt nodded. I grabbed the small statue. It solidified in my hand, and then the shrine started trembling. Lines cracked through the floor around the sacred footprint. It started expanding outwards. The whole rock fell through the crack.

“Oh, crap,” I said. “Why do these things always have booby traps?”

People turned to look at the commotion. Gasps of horror followed.

Matt grabbed my hand as he pushed into the crowd. “Because you’re not actually supposed to find a relic unless you can prove you’re worthy.”

“We used my blood to get to it in the first place. How am I not worthy?”

“You don’t have Excalibur,” Matt pointed out.

I thrust the cross into my pocket. No one stopped us as we squeezed into the crowd. Everyone else wanted to get off the walkway, too. Behind us, the shrine shuddered. There must have been over a thousand people on the terrace who all began to panic. Under the howl of rain from above, the buildings on the summit shuddered and the whole mountain trembled.

“Is it the Total Tremor again?” a panicked tourist shouted.

We made it down the steps of the shrine. People streamed off the top levels toward the exits. The belfry tore apart. The pilgrim bell fell to the ground with a loud clang. Hysterical shrieks became louder. Huge blocks of stone tumbled off the collapsing shrine and temple. They landed like grenades on the terrace.

The charm around Matt’s neck glowed, and somehow, a small space opened for us through the crowd of crazed humanity. We made it to one of the two narrow exits—steep steps that led down the mountain. Several people cried out under the onslaught of shrapnel rocks from the collapsing shrine. The river of humanity around us tightened as people shoved and fought to get to the exits.

Matt navigated me through them. I glanced behind me. The whole shrine had fallen into the sinkhole opened by the portal. For a second, I thought the worst was over. Then, the mountain rumbled once more. A single crack extended from the spot where the shrine had been and out towards the huts in which the priests lived. The whole summit was going to collapse.

Those who were able-bodied streamed down the mountain as quickly as they could. Several elderly pilgrims huddled together, their mouths moving in silent prayer.

“Matt, there’s no way these people are going to make it out,” I shouted above the noise, yanking him to the side into a small, hidden corner under a rock outcropping.

“There’s nothing we can do!” Matt yelled back. “Even if I used every charm I have, there’s not enough magic to stop this.”

I took hold of his chin and turned it so he could view the collapsing summit. The sinkhole widened. More people shrieked as they pushed forward. The monks were gathered beside the elderly, trying to help them join the fleeing visitors. “We did this, Matt. We have to help—”

Matt pulled away. “There is nothing I can do.”

“Not you, but—” I pulled out the Dragon’s Eye from my pocket and started to unwrap the handkerchief around it.

Matt grabbed my wrist. “No!”

With a quick, accomplished twist, I freed myself. “Do you have a better plan? Because I’m not letting a single person die up here because of us—that’s not good enough for me.”

Matt cursed. I saw him work over the possibilities before he came to the same conclusion. He took the amulet from me. “You’re not doing this—I am.”

I watched him unwrap the amulet. He touched its chain and it started to glow. I slapped my hand over his.

“Ryan—” Matt hissed.

I ignored him. I called urgently, “Vane.”

Closing my eyes, in my mind, I saw a shut, wooden door. Matt appeared beside me on a grey cloud. He wore his usual grumpy look. Around us, nothing existed but a hazy limbo. Underneath, we stood atop a surprisingly solid cloud. Matt lifted a medieval-looking door latch. The wooden door swung open toward us.

Vane lounged against its thick doorframe on the other side. “Both of you. You must be desperate.”

“A mountain is collapsing,” I said, trying not to squelch a visceral rush of pleasure at the mere sight of him.

“Interesting.” He grinned as if he could read my thoughts—which he could. “And how did you do that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Matt quickly. “Can you stop it?”

Vane paused. “Adam’s Peak.”

Beside me, Matt ground his teeth. “Yes.”

“Now, what could you possibly be doing there?”

“What do you want in exchange, Vane?” Matt ground out.

“Ah, you know me so well, brother.” Vane smiled. “The snake, of course.”

Matt scowled. He glanced at me. I raised my brow. As if he didn’t know my answer.

“Agreed,” Matt groused. “We’ll leave it somewhere for you to pick up.”

The green depths of Vane’s eyes flickered. “Or you could take a sip now.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t work on me.”

“You tried? After I asked?” He smiled devastatingly.

The green in his eyes receded. I ignored my heart when it skipped a beat.

“You shouldn’t have,” Matt said furiously. “It could have killed her.”

The clouds shifted under Matt and me, a rumble of distress reminding us of the mountain’s shortening fuse. I stumbled. Matt caught and steadied me.

“Stop being a bastard,” said Matt. “We agreed to your demands. Are you going to help or not?”

Green flashed in his eyes. The monster stirred. Its eyes locked on Matt’s hands around my waist. Vane snapped his fingers. Matt disappeared.

“What?” I started, stumbling again with my support gone. I caught the doorframe with my hand. It brought me uncomfortably close to Vane.

Vane leaned into me. “He was getting tiresome.”

I stayed in place. “Are you going to help or not, Vane?”

He looked at his cuticles with a bored expression. “There’s the matter of price.”

“Do you always have a price?”

“Always,” he promised. Straightening away from the doorframe, he shook his finger at me. “Why didn’t you tell me that the Medusa blood is gone?”

Matt had agreed too easily, and Vane had seen right through it. I swallowed. “What do you want, Vane?”

He leaned closer. Lips hovered over mine. Vane’s hazel eyes with only a faint ring of green around the irises. He said, “You took the blood.”

I was mesmerized. I whispered, “Yes.”

His lips pressed hard, crushing soft flesh against unyielding teeth. Lightning in a bottle, electricity crackled across my lips. The ground shifted and I could have cared less, lost in the rapture of the kiss. The sensations spiked, threatening to overwhelm me. Then, he pushed deeper. His fingers tangled in my hair.

“You’re mine, sword-bearer,” the monster whispered.

I shoved at Vane’s chest and pulled back, managing to add a few inches between us. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Hard green covered his irises like a shield. “Did you kiss him yet?”

“Why do you care?”

Vane’s lips twisted into an icy smile. “You’re the sword-bearer. The fate of this world rests in whoever controls you.”

I gasped. I couldn’t help it. The cruel words ripped at the core of all my fears. My hand shot out to slap him. He caught it before I could connect with his cheek. His other hand tightened in the tresses of my hair, making me wince.

He growled, repeating, “Did. You. Kiss. Him?”

“None. Of. Your. Business.”

“Good,” he replied, seemingly satisfied.

I scowled.

Green receded from his eyes and he released me. “Put on the necklace. I’m not close to you and you don’t have Excalibur. Channeling my power is not going to be easy.”

“When is it ever easy with you?” I muttered.

A finger slid along the line of my jaw. “It could have been.”

He snapped his fingers again and limbo began shifting. Fluffy bits of white cloud rose around me and hardened into forest-green hedges. The world darkened and we stood, once again, in the maze on Aegae. I gazed at Vane. The words we said—the decision I made when I didn’t choose him—throbbed within the confines of the hedges. Silent shadows haunted the air, oppressive mournful shapes that threatened to swarm me, sucking the life from my bones.

Vane smiled. He was torturing me and he knew it.

Leaning down, he whispered into my ear, “Do you regret this yet?”

Tears prickled in my eyes, which I closed to hold back. To shut him out. I fought to keep holding on to myself. To survive this. To survive him.

I opened my eyes to find I was back on the mountain.

Matt stood in front of me. The mountain shook. People rushed by. I couldn’t hear any sound beyond the pounding of my heart. He silently handed me the necklace. By the odd expression on his face, I wondered how much he’d seen despite being banished by Vane. I didn’t have the courage to ask, and as soon as I snapped on the necklace, I didn’t have the strength. Vane’s magic flowed through the necklace with reckless abandon.

I dropped to the floor with a strangled gasp. My hands touched the wounded surface of the mountain. I shuddered under the onslaught of a foreign power. Unfiltered, raw, angry magic threatened to tear me apart. Above us, the clouds thundered. Lightning flashed between them and heavy rain poured down in sheets. People cried out in further dismay, fearing a living dragon spewed fire off the mountain summit.

“Help her, Merlin,” Vane commanded in my head.

I barely noticed Matt drop to his knees behind me. His arms wrapped around my body and Matt took control. Somehow, he directed the magic into the ground, and the earth soaked it up like it did the rain.

I managed to stay strong for another few seconds until the mountain calmed.

***

“Vane, I pegged a deer. It’s in the woods. Fifty paces in that direction.” The little princess stood at the mouth of the cave, pointing outside.

A chilly breeze blew in. Under a warm, fur coat, I barely felt its sting. I’d never worn anything so warm before in my life. I could get used to it. I looked at the tiny girl, her gold-brown hair clumsily plaited and tied to keep it out of the way. I’d plaited it for her after some persuasion. With a sigh, I tossed kindling into the fire I’d just started. “Why didn’t you bring it with you? I hope you didn’t leave it alive.”

She wrinkled a pert nose. “It is dead, but I’m not touching it. You made me do the kill. It’s yours.”

I stood up, sword held casually in one hand, and walked closer. I loomed over her. “I made you because we have no other food.”

“It watched me. Sad and not…” Her piquant face looked down at the ground. “It was an easy shot. It walked in front of the arrow.” Lifting her head to glare at me, she repeated, “You clean it up.”

I repressed a sigh. “As you wish, princess. Get the bedrolls ready. We get up early.”

“I know,” she muttered as she marched off. The end of the bow she slung around her shoulder slapped against the back of her legs. Made for someone much bigger than she, the curved bow had an elegant design, but was very simple at the same time. Considering the amount of gold in the hidden chamber, I had no doubt it was specially made for her.

I stepped out of the cave.

“You’re letting her walk all over you,” a thin boy said. He held a slim sword in his hand as he stood on sentry duty. I walked to him and silently directed him to correct his stance. He eagerly complied. Worry clouded his eyes still, but they also held a sliver of hope. We were far from his destroyed home, and everyday he grew stronger and the grip on his sword grew more adept.

I asked, “Anything to report?”

“No one.”

I nodded. I managed to grab some handfuls of gold and a few other supplies on my way out of Carthage. Through luck, I evaded the other soldiers and escaped the city without drawing attention. Besides the supplies, I also acquired two additional burdens. I called myself twice mad for giving in to their pathetic doe-like gazes and allowing the two children to accompany me. I knew better than to let innocent pair of eyes to affect me. Yet, there was something about the little princess that tugged at me. As if I was meant to know her… I shook my head, disgusted with myself for even thinking such useless thoughts

Nearly one month later, we were camped in the middle of a forest in Gaul. I would not have made it so far so quickly without the aid of a tiny little girl with delicate hands and a royal pedigree. The cave, our rest stop for the night, lay high up. We were trying to remain as far away from the greatest predator that roamed the woods—man.

Septimus. The depths of the man’s debauchery, the depths I’d been forced to sink into with him, I would bear on my soul forever. I wished I had the power to heal him, so I could gut the rotting bastard again. I cursed myself for even thinking of him. The crystal necklace sat heavily around my neck. I had its brother, but nothing I tried worked. The crystal held my magic bound without mercy. I remained powerless.

A creek flowed at the mouth of the cave and water thundered down over slippery boulders. A smattering of rocks made the creek easy to cross. Red rays of the fading sun danced off the smooth stones and leaves floated down harmoniously as they fell off the nearby trees.

I had no idea what lay ahead. First, we must survive today.

I drew out a knife from my belt. “Stay alert, Lord Perseus. I’ll return shortly.”

He made a face. “I asked you not to call me that name. Our kingdom is lost. My father is gone. My mother is…” The boy stared up into the setting sun, tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. “I have nothing.”

The remark hit uncomfortably close to the bone, but I had something the boy didn’t—a brother, one who waited for me to find my way back home.

I asked, “What should I call you then?”

“We travel toward Britannia. I should like a new name for a new home.” Then, he bit his lip. Uncertainty fell over a youthful face that couldn’t have seen more than ten seasons. “I don’t know. I shall have to think on it.”

“Keep an eye on your sister,” I said, walking into the forest.

“As if anyone could,” the boy groused. “She only ever listened to our mother.”

I had to agree. The baby princess, with her big, innocent eyes, was a real hellion. Exactly as she said, I found a small doe pinned to a tree, hanging on the shaft of her arrow. She made one clean shot through the side. It didn’t suffer. The princess hit the correct spot to cause minimum pain. Lifting my knife, I jabbed it into the deer’s tough skin. I got to work. A few hours later, my stomach full of venison, I yawned.

Only small embers remained in the fire.

“Asana agni.” I tried. Nothing happened.

With a grimace, I placed dry twigs to keep the low fire burning during the night. A murmur escaped from the sleeping princess next to me. As soon as she lay down, she fell into slumber. One hand was tucked under her chin and the other rested trustingly next to my thigh. The sound of the water relaxed me. Even on Triton’s island, it was always the ocean that finally lulled me into sleep. I glanced down at the girl again and wondered briefly if I would ever be able to sleep so well. I doubted it. Life would never be safe enough for me.

She shivered under the cold breeze of the night and the boy pulled his blanket tighter around her. He moved to settle down next to his sister.

“The Vandal king was her father?” I asked the boy.

He nodded and yawned. “I don’t know much about it. From the gossip, I know the incident surprised them all. My father chose to ignore my mother’s dalliance. What else could he do?”

I glanced at the little girl. “How did he treat your sister?”

“He didn’t. He mostly ignored her.”

Not wanted. I poked at the fire. I knew the feeling all too well. “And the bow? She’s exceptionally skilled.”

The boy yawned. “She always has been. My mother had the bow made. She said she had a dream she should.”

“A dream?”

The boy nodded. “She said my sister’s father spoke to her in it.”

“The Vandal king?”

“I don’t know. It was a dream.”

“A dream,” I muttered. My time with Merlin had taught me not to easily dismiss such things. But what purpose lay behind the little princess’ gift? I lay down and stared at the jagged rock across the cave’s ceiling. Who knew what purpose destiny had in store for me? I was taken from my home. My fingers curled into a tight ball. Whatever my destiny was, I was getting tired of it. I glanced at the two of them. Was it really a coincidence that I stumbled upon them? What game was I involved in now?

“Perceval,” I said.

The boy looked at me with bleary eyes. “Hmm?”

“Your new name,” I explained.

The boy smiled, the luminous smile of an untouched soul. For a moment, I had to suck in my breath at its purity. It reminded me so much of my little brother. I could almost see his small face in the fire’s glimmer. I had to tamp down the pangs of regret. It took every ounce of my will to ease a scant space away from them. I could ill afford to get involved with these two. I had no need for friends. Such weaknesses had surely been beaten out of me long ago. I only needed to survive. The boy had taken one item of particular value.

“Perceval,” I said. “Where have you hidden the apple you took from the vault?”