Something was wrong. Veronica knew it–she could feel it–as soon as the message came in. She said nothing, however, until Merlin had dismissed the messenger and sent him downstairs to rest.
"Why would Horvath ask for our help in town?" she demanded of her master. "He's been upset with us ever since..." Eyes followed thought, and the blue eyes of her chosen one stared back. Balthazar, too, was concerned. Ever since I rejected him for you, she didn't have to finish. Back to Merlin then, she concluded aloud, "Surely, if the threat is that great, he would have asked for you instead."
Merlin shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe this is his way of saying he wants to be part of the team again. I hope so." He glanced aside at his other apprentice. "You'd better go, and quickly. Night will be here soon."
With a nod, Balthazar left the room to collect the traveling cloaks for himself and Veronica. Their horses were waiting outside.
Pounding hoofbeats, pounding heartbeats underscored the sense of urgency as the riders returned in the dark. Their torches were the last remnants of the fire that had blazed through the town, a fire set by a pair of arrogant young Morganians. Who had told them they had a chance against two of Merlin's own? For that was their reason for arson, their assumption in laying the trap. Of course, their attack hadn't quite worked out as they thought, but that still left Balthazar and Veronica with the task of quenching the fire. It wasn't easy: streams and a few small lakes were the only natural water sources around, high as they were in the hills. Veronica brought those waters in, airborne as if by unseen aqueduct, while Balthazar summoned dark clouds overhead. Together, the deluge was enough.
There had been no sign of Horvath. "He was supposed to be here waiting for us," Veronica pointed out as she and her partner doused another burning building.
"He was supposed to be here holding off the Morganians until we got here," corrected her fellow apprentice. "Those two were amateurs. He sure wouldn't need our help against them."
"Maybe there was another...?" she speculated. "Their master? They did mention that there was someone stronger to back them up."
Balthazar snorted. "Not much help then, was he? What kind of master would leave his raw apprentices to battle on their own?"
Veronica grew thoughtful as the pair continued their work. "They were disposable," was her conclusion. "I think they were after Horvath. It would have been three against one. Horvath called for us because he was too embarrassed to ask Merlin's help against children."
"So where are Horvath and this Morganian master now?" Balthazar was skeptical, she could tell.
She had no answer to that, but her worry continued to grow.
Torchlight gave way to firelight on a greater scale. From afar, the riders easily spied their castle home lit from without and within. Fire, fire–there was no escaping it, from town and torch and castle. The pair of weary warriors faced another battle.
Scattered fires in the courtyard showed the carnage of futile defense. Slain soldiers lay pierced and twisted, many with flesh burned black. There were no enemy bodies, which could only mean...
Veronica looked to her companion in horror. Their eyes met, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
Morgana had penetrated Merlin's stronghold.
"We have to reach Merlin," she said.
Balthazar agreed. "Yes. If Horvath hasn't returned, he'll be all alone against her and whoever helped her. That business in town was a setup–it had to be–to get us away from the castle." He was calm, purposeful, but she caught the note of self-recrimination in his voice.
"And Horvath? Do you think they've already...?" She faltered, then finished. "I hope he's all right." The man might have been difficult to live with these past few weeks, she conceded, but he was still their colleague and friend.
They stopped long enough for Veronica to doff her cloak. Now, unencumbered, she wielded the sword she used for battle. Balthazar, who preferred his plasma bolts to blades, simply claimed a shorter sword from beside a fallen soldier. Such might be the better option in close quarters. He led the way toward Merlin's training room, which was where the master would certainly make his stand.
They came to a stop before a door that wouldn't budge. "She's sealed it shut," Balthazar declared as he gave up the effort. He turned to face the woman behind him. "Let's split up," he suggested. "You go around to the other end, come in from the hallway in the back. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can keep her busy here. A blast to clear this doorway..." He nodded to indicate the sealed entryway. "That should get her attention, maybe give Merlin a moment's reprieve."
"All right." She paused briefly, then reached out her free hand to his. They clasped, squeezed, and let go. "Be careful," were her final instructions to him.
Merlin's training room was far larger from the outside. Veronica's detour to reach the back entrance was taking too long. She hurried, anxious. Then, through the archway leading into the last connecting hall, her greatest fear took shape before her eyes.
Balthazar was down. At the far end of the back hallway, Veronica stopped short, a cold knot of panic in her throat. The enemy stood before her target, her arms moving as she prepared the bolt to finish the man at her feet.
There was no time for a physical attack. Veronica let her sword fall and raised her empty hands. What magic would stop Morgana? Alone, no one but Merlin had such power, and Merlin wasn't here. Only something new, something unexpected, and now something desperate, had a chance.
Veronica took that chance. Green energy leapt from her hands, fueled by the rush of battle and fear for the one she loved. It enveloped the foe in a field of rippling mist, pulling, pulling soul from body as Morgana screamed her wrath. That soul streamed like wind-blown sand to the one who called it forth, who drew it as with invisible cords into herself. Human fusion had been successfully demonstrated for the very first time.
Victory, however, was anything but sweet. Morgana, though caught by surprise and dragged into unknown territory, wasn't giving up. She fought the body that held her, to kill her captor and be free. She paralyzed the woman's lungs.
Veronica fell to her knees. She couldn't breathe, could barely think. Morgana must not escape. I'm dying. Balthazar... He was safe for the moment, at least. That was all that mattered. Her sight was fading...
Then he was there, before her, and he held the one thing more secure than even the spellcaster's body. In his hand was the inescapable prison called the Grimhold. Yes, she wanted to tell him. That will hold Morgana when I can't hold on any more.
A veil fell across her vision, a cloud across her mind. Morgana, too, had seen her intended destination, and she wanted no part of it. The stronger sorcerer ceased her struggle long enough to take control of Veronica's body. She would use the younger woman to fight off that unwanted fate.
Balthazar opened the Grimhold. You're too late, Morgana, her host thought with relief. She felt her own body dissipate as she and Morgana together were swept inside the prison. Balthazar, I'm so proud of you for your courage, and your cleverness, and, and...I would do it again, for you.
His face was the last thing she saw.
Drifting, she was drifting in a void. There was no sight here, no sound or anything else her senses might have known. How could there be? She was nothing more than spirit now. Her body was here, too, somewhere, in some form, but she had no access. That was probably just as well, confined as she was in this empty place. She was alone without even awareness of time.
No, not alone. There was another, an evil presence as isolated as she. The presence frightened her, though it was impotent here. It seemed to be lurking, waiting for the chance to attack her, to catch her and hold her captive even outside their prison. Would she never be free?
She would have despaired but for a vague hope, a vague sense of someone outside who also waited. That one was love and comfort where she had only dread within. She longed to see him again, to hold him and be rid of the evil that stalked her. He would help her, she was certain, if only she could see him again.
She didn't know how long it had been. Had it been just moments ago that she'd been trapped in this nothingness? Was it weeks, months, even years? All she knew was that the comforting presence outside was suddenly cut off from her. She was alone now with the evil, for all she knew forever. Her hope began to fade.
A new force jarred her from her despair. She had felt this once before, it seemed, long ago, when she'd been safe in a place she'd called home. As before, in an instant, darkness gave way to light. She rushed toward it as her body began to reform around her. Free! she exulted. At last, I'm free!
She was mistaken. The evil that had been her constant companion maintained a firm grip on the body that should have been hers. Morgana had control.
Through the veil of Morgana's eyes, Veronica saw Horvath. Through the cloud of Morgana's mind pinning down her own, Veronica heard Horvath speak her name. Her voice, strangely altered and against her will, answered. She could only watch, helpless.
He was dressed oddly, she noted, and his hair was cut short. Gone was the sword he'd embedded with the blue stones he favored, replaced now by a silver-headed cane. The jewels were still there, and so was...Merlin's ring?
So that was how he'd been able to unseal the Grimhold. Why had the master given his ring to Horvath? What was this place, so unlike any she'd ever seen? Where was Merlin now? More importantly, to her, where was Balthazar?
Morgana commanded Merlin's eldest apprentice, and the apprentice obeyed. Why? Was it blackmail, demanding compliance against the threat to kill her host?
No! Veronica wanted to scream. Don't listen to her! Merlin gave you power to attack. Do it! Forget about me; just stop Morgana!
It did no good. She could feel her conqueror's contempt, feel the invasion of her mind as the evil one accessed her memory. Through her, Morgana intended to use a spell that only Merlin had ever attempted, that only he and his apprentices should have known. Her eyes were forced closed, her arms lifted, and the incantation began.
She resisted as best she could, though she knew her efforts were in vain. Horvath, please, do something, she cried. Balthazar, where are you? Somebody, stop this!
Apparently, somebody heard her plea. The spell's progress halted abruptly. Fiery trails of energy quivered in place for a fraction of a heartbeat, then retreated with the force of lightning. Morgana had just enough time to look up before the backlash knocked her senseless.
Veronica woke in the arms of her beloved. For a moment, she could believe that the nightmare was finally over. She was free of Morgana at last, and Balthazar was here by her side. Everything would be all right, now that he was with her.
He flinched then, and the illusion fled. An awful suspicion sprang up, but she had to ask: "Balthazar, what you done?"
Her heart sank when her suspicion was confirmed. Only when he left her, bent over in pain, did she notice the boy. He must have been a sorcerer, else he wouldn't be here. Then, when Balthazar tossed the empty Grimhold to him and reminded him of a promise, she surmised something more. Balthazar must have taken an apprentice of his own.
The boy refused his master's order. Right or wrong, she couldn't blame him for that. They were three now, and Horvath might still be around. With Merlin's ring and the blackmail threat nullified, surely they could fight off Morgana together. She seconded the boy's refusal with her own. Better to let the enemy go than to put Balthazar through a nightmare like hers.
Balthazar didn't agree, obviously. He was still struggling to keep the destructive force within, regardless of the cost. The Merlinians had the advantage. Could he not see that? Or, did he know something important that she didn't?
His struggle didn't last long. Morgana, dominant and vengeful, drove him to his knees. His body shook as she freed herself and reformed as an evil wraith, the shifting, shadowy image of her former physical self.
Veronica didn't wait while the enemy regrouped. She was already moving toward her wounded partner, past the boy who seemed to be at a loss. Balthazar had fallen on his back, his eyes unfocused, his right hand reaching toward the sound of her approach. She helped him sit up.
For the moment, that was as much as he could manage.
"And now," Morgana intoned, "we end this."
"No!" Balthazar tried to lurch forward, to protect the others as was his wont. Instead, he would have fallen again but for Veronica at his back, her supporting hands upon his shoulders. She held him steady until he regained his balance.
Fire blazed all around them. Morgana was attacking, but somehow they were untouched. In wonder, Morgana's former host discovered the source of their defense.
It was the boy. It was he who held back the fire, so that it swirled harmlessly around the invisible sphere that protected the trio inside. He turned his head to address his master, and it was only then that Veronica realized who he must be. Only one had the power to withstand Merlin's deadliest foe. With or without a ring, there could be no other.
"The Prime Merlinian," Morgana also realized. She should never have known of his existence, or of the search for Merlin's heir. That had been a closely guarded secret, but a captive mind was subject to its captor. Morgana knew because Veronica had known.
The fire stopped. Balthazar took advantage of the reprieve to climb to his feet. He'd been hurt, but they still had an enemy to defeat.
Veronica couldn't help a certain reluctance to leave him, to move to her practiced fighting stance. He needed rest and healing, not more combat. The Prime Merlinian, too, wasn't ready for this. Because of his age, she had thought he was a fully-trained apprentice, but if he hadn't even known his own power... Perhaps Balthazar's first plan was the best one, after all. Well, it was too late now.
The boy was still recovering from his first use of so much energy. He wouldn't be able to help them right away, but at least Morgana wasn't targeting him yet, either. Instead, she focused her efforts on Merlin's apprentices, who she saw as the greater threat.
A blow caught Veronica midsection. She doubled over with a cry of anguish. Balthazar called out her name; then he was there, between her and the destroyer, taking the bolt meant for her. She felt its force as she sank to the ground, reached for him as he was hurled aside out of the field of battle. He tumbled down the concrete steps and lay unmoving at the bottom.
Morgana didn't matter now. Let the Prime Merlinian take over the job he was meant to do; Veronica had a job more important. She set her own pain aside to go to the man she loved.
The cold knot of panic was back. Balthazar was down, and now he lay silent and still. She slid one arm under his head as a pillow, but he made no response. She moved to his other side, away from the steps, and checked him again in this better light. Still, there was nothing–no breath, no pulse, no heartbeat. Despite her power and all her will, all the magic she possessed wasn't enough to save him. He was beyond any help she could give. Her Balthazar was gone.
Nothing mattered anymore. Lightning flashed in the sky now and converged above her beyond the top of the stairs. Let the great powers fight it out, she thought bleakly. This is their battle now.
If Morgana won, then she, Veronica, would be next on the list to die. She didn't care; or rather, she would almost welcome that fate. What was the point of resisting, now? Alone, she couldn't stop Morgana. Maybe Horvath, wherever he was, could continue with the help of the dragon ring, but for her, there was no hope at all.
But what if the Prime Merlinian emerged victorious? Would Veronica be any better off? This was a new land full of strangers. She didn't even know the boy's name. There was only Horvath, if she could find him. He'd been angry, though, resentful of Balthazar and the love she had for him. He would be scarce comfort in her time of grief. She bent her neck low, close to the still face below.
A cry of astonished delight filled the air, then suddenly cut off. The boy had seen them. So he did win, she reflected. Good, good. At least that's over. She lifted her eyes to meet his, but couldn't speak the words just yet. His face showed the same disbelief she'd felt, the same devastation when she'd realized what had happened. When she found the words, the simple, final words, they brought to a close all the years and the dreams she'd held dear. There was nothing left for her here, now, wherever "here" and "now" were. She was lost and alone. If only Morgana had killed her instead, or at least taken her life along with Balthazar's... That mercy was denied her.
I'm supposed to be strong–the toughest one of the three, they said. I don't feel very strong. Why should I be, now? They don't need me anymore. I have no quest, no reason to go on. This boy...who was he? Balthazar had found him, trained him, trusted him. She would have to talk with him, find out all he could tell her. He was the only connection she had left. Then they could go from there.
Right now, though, the world was a dark bubble closing in on her. Veronica saw nothing beyond their little space of smooth stone and steps. This strange world meant nothing to her. Nothing mattered right now, nothing at all–only this one she had tried and failed to save. Instead, he died saving me. Balthazar, dearest Balthazar, I love you, always...
She closed her eyes, but the tears still fell. She would stay here, at his side, forever...
"That's not good enough."
It was the boy again, this time with a new determination in his voice. She looked up once more to see him coming down the steps, toward her and Balthazar. She stepped back at his request, and an irrational surge of hope sprang up inside her. Was it possible?... She would have to wait and see.