Merlin, Court Warlock of Camelot, was working in his chambers when two small objects flashed past the open door. He and his wife, Freya, shared a glance and then laughed, runnning to the door to see a mane of gleaming black hair and a set of waving golden tresses disappearing around the corner.
"I wonder how Uther would roar if he saw what use Arthur puts to the palace now," chuckled Merlin. "Two more infirmaries, much lower taxes-and Ania and Ygraine running everywhere."
"I agree," said Freya, returning to the mortar in which she was grinding herbs. "Ania would irk him especially-using magic however and wherever she pleases. Have you got on with that spell you were working on for Arthur?"
"Yes, I'm nearly halfway done. But I will need one of Ania's hairs. . .queer though it sounds, I really do need one. Where is her comb?"
"She's got it with her. You'd better go after them and get it."
Ania was Merlin and Freya's five-year-old daughter and the oldest of their three children. Next came Balinor, who was two-and-a-half and uncannily resembled Merlin. He was too young as of yet to do more than toddle around the castle accompanied by his parents. The third and youngest was Liliane after Freya's mother, or Anne for short. She was only one month old and did not do much except sleep.
So Merlin headed off after Ania and Ygraine, who was the Crown Princess of Camelot. He found them where he was sure he would find them; in the throne room, sitting by the feet of Queen Guinevere. Gwen was combing out Ania's hair while her daughter Ygraine held baby Tom, the small Prince.
"Hullo, Gwen," said Merlin. "Could I have the comb, please?"
"Of course," said Gwen, smiling.
Merlin pulled out the solitary long black hair wound around the teeth of the comb. With a comical bow which made the two little girls squeal with laughter, he smiled at the Queen and departed-bumping into King Arthur outside the door.
"Merlin!" said Arthur. "How's the crop spell coming along?"
"In progress, Arthur," said Merlin, assuming a wise air that made Arthur shout with laughter. "Magic cannot be rushed."
"Have you been to see Kilgarrah lately?"
Kilgarrah was the last dragon in existence. He had once been imprisoned under Camelot, but Merlin had set him free and now Kilgarrah lived by the Lake of Avalon as its guardian. Freya had once been the guardian of Avalon, but as a gift to her, Kilgarrah had taken her place, allowing her to remain in Camelot with Merlin and Ania, who was then a baby not much older than Anne was now. Kilgarrah could not leave the lake very often, so Merlin went to see him now and then.
"Yes, just yesterday. He's enchanted a dragon scale for Ania-it starts burning with magical fire when she touches it. He said it was something his daughter Anharra loved to do, before she was able to breathe fire."
"It's a good thing you named Ania after Anharra."
"It is. He has told me that he can speak to Ania in his mind the same way he could once speak to Anharra."
Arthur then looked around and drew Merlin off into an alcove.
"What is it?" whispered Merlin.
"The spell-ward you placed on Camelot-it's dying," said Arthur, referring to the ward against dark spells that Merlin had created two years ago. "Is it something that happens with time?"
"No," said Merlin. "Those wards are meant to be eternal-unless something tries to remove them."
"Someone is trying to," whispered Arthur.
"What do you mean?"
"There are rumors of another sorcerer in the lower town-one dressed in black who only appears at night. I heard it today from Elyan. Have you?"
"No-I've not gone to the town for months."
"Look into it," said Arthur, nodding vigorously. "Funny. . .things have been happening in the town. I'm not exactly sure as to the details, but. . .well, try and research."
"I will," promised Merlin. He returned to his chambers with a furrow on his brow, to discuss the matter with Freya. What could be so powerful as to counter a ward that had taken so long to cast?