I watch curiously as he eats a few bites before setting the sandwich down. "What's your name?" Emily asks him.
"My name is Merlin," the boy says. I probably shouldn't call him a boy. After all he appears to be the same age as me. Is his name really Merlin? His parents must have been hippies or something.
"That's a nice name. Who came up with it?" Emily asks.
"My mother did. My father had to hide before I was born. When I met him a few years later he was dying. He was brave and strong, and in the little time I had with him he was able to teach me a few things," Merlin says simply.
"You say he was brave and strong, but why did he run and hide?" Emily asks.
"He was being hunted for simply being alive. He was a magician and where I come from that is a sin punishable by death," Merlin says.
"Where are you from?" Emily asks.
"A small place off England," he says. How odd that his eyes would flash gold like that. It makes since that he would have lived around England. After all he has a very pronounced accent.
"Why is being a magician such a bad thing?" Emily asks.
"It is considered evil. If you practice magic, you are thought to communicate with the devil himself," Merlin says.
"That sounds like medieval times," Emily says softly. Merlin just shrugs. "How old are you?" Emily asks him.
"Twenty three," Merlin tells her.
"You're really young. What do you do for a living?" she asks him.
"I don't understand the question," Merlin says. He looks completely bewildered.
"Do you have a job?" Emily asks. The look on his face clears for a moment before clouding again.
"I don't think I do anymore," he murmurs.
"What do you mean?" Emily asks.
"I had one back home, but I just got here," Merlin says.
"When did you get here?" Emily asks.
"Right before the bright lights and the shouts," he says. That would mean he was not awake when he was brought here, and dumped in that alley. I wonder how he was transported than.
"Do you remember how you got to America?" Emily asks.
"No, where is America?" he asks. Uh-oh, that is never a good thing to hear.
"You're in America," Emily tells him. He looks panicked and scared, and Emily excuses herself and leaves. "That poor boy has no clue what is going on. And who names their kid Merlin?" Emily says.
"I don't think he is use to these kinds of things. He probably has never seen a ham sandwich with the way he reacted to it," I say simply. We watch as he paces around the room making odd little movements with his hands.
"Is that some kind of twitch?" Morgan asks.
"There are too many possibilities, but I don't think there is anything wrong with him mentally. He seems to be in perfect control of everything," I say. To my utter surprise he walks to the door and opens it without any hesitation. Morgan is out the door and he has him pinned to the wall in a heartbeat.
"What did I do?" Merlin asks in a frightened voice.
"Sorry kid, but we can't let you leave," Morgan tells Merlin.
"Can I use the bathroom?" he asks.
"I'll take him Morgan," I say. Morgan nods and steps away so I can escort Merlin to the bathroom. He follows just behind me silently.
"Am I in trouble for something?" he asks in a hushed tone of voice.
"When we found you, you were at a crime scene. You were next to a dead body and even had some of her blood on you. Until we know for sure that you did not kill her we cannot let you go," I tell him. He stays quiet. I open the bathroom door for him, and he walks by me. I get a sniff of him and recoil. He doesn't notice anything.
I wait outside for him to finish, but I keep thinking of reasons why he smells so bad. If where he is from is so isolated that things are almost the same as medieval times then he was never taught about proper hygiene. "Reid!" Rossi yells at me. I look up at him.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"He checks out. He is free to go. Try to keep him close so we can ask him something if we need to," he tells me. I nod my head in understanding. The door behind me opens, and Merlin pokes his head out.
"Can I ask you a question?" Merlin asks.
"You just did," I tell him. He smiles slightly.
"What is all this shiny stuff?" he asks. He points to all the metal in the bathroom.
"It's metal. We use it to make things stronger so they won't break easily," I tell him.
"Am I going back to that room now?" he asks.
"Did you wash your hands?" I ask him.
"Where is the river?" he asks. I smile a little.
"We don't use rivers for cleaning in America. We use the faucets and sinks and showers," I walk into the bathroom to show him what I mean. He watches me with interest, and tries it himself.
"Are they clean enough?" he asks. He is holding his hands up to be inspected.
"Yes they are. You can come home with me and get cleaned up, before you come back to the office here," I tell him.
"Why do I have to clean up?" he asks.
"You smell like a pig's pen. It is very bad," I tell him.
"Sorry," he murmurs.
"When was the last time you bathed?" I ask him.
"Almost two weeks. Me and my friend were being chased around our island so there wasn't very much of an opportunity to bath," he tells me.
"Why were you being chased?" I ask.
"My friend was prince, and he was being chased so someone else could take the thrown," he tells me. I frown a little at that, but shrug it off.
"Let me tell my boss where I am going and then we will go to my place," I tell him. He nods slowly and follows closely to me.
This place is weird, but so far he is the only one not trying to beat me up. Also he is trying to help me. He is offering up his home so I can fit in better around here. Is he a friend I'm not sure. After what happened with Arthur I am going to be very picky about me friends. Is magic allowed here in America? Or do I still need to hide.