In spite of his anxious desire to be rid of the effects of Morgana's potion, Merlin was too exhausted to meet with Kilgharrah until late that night.

He had stolen time for a long nap interrupted by Arthur's bellowing for his lazy servant to get to work and sleep it off later. After tending to the prince, Merlin would have liked nothing better than to get an entire night's sleep but he forced himself out of bed and pulled his jacket on over his sleeping shirt and trousers.

Then he made his way to the clearing outside the city walls. The moon illuminated even the forest floor beneath the trees and he could see blades of grass in the clearing bend in the storm stirred up by the dragon's wings. He blinked in the swirl of dust.

The great beast landed on all fours, shook out his wings, and folded them back. "I was beginning to hope you'd forgotten me."

Merlin smiled. "I don't think so."

"The problem is, young warlock, that you wish to talk but you don't wish to listen. The last time we met, you chose to ignore my advice and overrule me."

"I'm sorry." Merlin felt a twinge of remorse for having forced the dragon to give him a spell against Kilgharrah's wishes; he had exploited the dragonlord gift and for that he was sorry. But he would make the same choice again. He had told himself he needed the dragon spell to save Morgana from her head wound because he could not bear everyone else's grief but the truth was that he could not watch her die. Desperation and Kilgharrah's urging had driven Merlin to almost kill Morgana once and he was not going to endure that heartache again.

"A dragonlord should never abuse his power," Kilgharrah said.

Merlin must have appeared sufficiently penitent because the dragon let the subject go.

"What reason do you have to summon me this time?" The Great Dragon dropped his giant head closer to the ground, peering at Merlin. "You have been enchanted. The spell is a powerful one, even though it has been only partially administered."

"We have the antidote. We only need one more ingredient to complete it."

Kilgharrah lifted his head and peered down from his great height, yellow eyes blinking slowly. "One ingredient and seven days to brew the cure."

Merlin nodded.

"There is a simpler and quicker way to break this spell."

"What is that?"

"Kill the witch, and the enchantment will immediately be broken."

Merlin's breath caught in his throat. "I can't."

"If the enchantment is too strong for you, get someone else to kill her and you will be free."

"No."

"If I refuse to give you the final ingredient, will you command me?"

Merlin ran a hand through his hair, staring up at the yellow eyes of the enormous dragon. "No. But I hope you will grant what I ask; it is a small favour."

Kilgharrah sighed. "Very well, young warlock, but you will regret your choice to spare the witch again."

"Some choices are easy, some stay with you forever."


From the battlement, Merlin watched Gilli leave with his pack of belongings on his shoulder. The young man blended into the crowd of participants, spectators, and traders leaving Camelot now the tournament was done. Although he had not won the prize of one hundred gold pieces, Gilli was one of the fortunate few participants to leave without his purse further drained by the exorbitant fees of the healers currently in high demand.

Rows of colourful flags remained to decorate the streets but the multitude of food smells from vendors that had filled the city for three days were gone, replaced by the lingering stink of too many bodies packed too tightly together and enjoying themselves a little too much. Most of the nobility were sleeping off the days of celebration, merchants were counting their profits and replenishing supplies, innkeepers and servants were cleaning or snatching moments of rest.

Merlin thought he stood alone on the battlement until he heard a soft footstep behind him. The scents of violets and sage reached him and he stiffened.

He had successfully avoided Morgana for the last seven days, waiting for Gaius to finish brewing the antidote. It should be ready today, but Merlin had not yet returned to the physician's workshop after bidding farewell to Gilli. His breathing quickened as Morgana stopped beside him, looking in the direction of his gaze.

"That boy is lucky to leave here with his head attached to his shoulders," she said. "It was foolishly reckless to fight in the tournament using magic. I cannot believe no one exposed him."

Merlin's eyes darted sideways to see her staring into the crowd where Gilli had disappeared. "You knew and didn't reveal him?"

"Me?" One dark brow lifted as she turned to face him. "I wished him well. If he had killed Uther I would have cheered. Why did you interfere?"

She stared at him intently and he could not look away. If she had recognized Gilli's magic of course she had recognized his. "I couldn't let him assassinate the king."

"Uther would not thank you for saving his life with magic; he would execute you."

"If the rightful king is murdered by a sorcerer, it will harden Arthur's heart against magic forever and it will cement a hatred and fear of sorcery in people's minds."

Her green eyes narrowed. "Uther might have slain the boy when he defeated him. Would you have let that happen?"

"Gilli chose to fight, to use magic for his own glory, and it was corrupting him. I begged him to withdraw but he refused. He had to bear the consequences of using his power to strike out in bitterness and return hate for hate."

Morgana's lips pressed into a thin line at the veiled accusation. Merlin wanted to take back the words, tell her he would help her overthrow Uther, make her queen, do whatever she asked. She stood next to him, near enough to touch. He bit his lip.

Morgana leaned closer. "How can you know that when Arthur is king, magic will be permitted once again, that we will no longer live in fear? How can you be certain he will not follow the path Uther has set for him? Will you wait forever for a chance to be recognized?"

Merlin's gaze fastened on her lips; he struggled to even out his breathing. "Arthur will bring about real change; people will follow his lead; magic will be accepted for the right reasons and not out of fear."

The words rushed out against his desire to pledge his allegiance to her. He held his breath until she pulled away, but instead of relief he felt disappointment.

She straightened and tossed her hair back over her shoulder before she met his eyes. "I wish I could be as certain as you are about what is right, so much so that I was willing to sacrifice my kin, my friends."

The accusing stare made him drop his eyes. When she turned and left, he put both hands on the low stone wall of the parapet, closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths. He wondered if it was only the poison that made her last words cut so deep. Yet she, too, had been willing to sacrifice her friends, her family, all of Camelot to Morgause, not once but twice. To a woman she called sister but barely knew.

If he had reciprocated so long ago when she confessed her magic to him, if he had shared his secret with her the way he had done with Gilli or trusted Morgana the way he had Freya, would Morgana have made a different choice when Morgause came to her? If she had not felt so alone might she have chosen him and Camelot instead of her sister? Or, when he refused to help her overthrow Uther, would she have agreed to aid Morgause anyway and left the kingdom and everyone in it vulnerable to attack time after time?

His nails scraped against the stone as his hands clenched. The past could not be changed. Morgana had made her choice, he had made his, now she and her sister were going to try again to take the kingdom. And he was half way to helping her do it. He needed that antidote from Gaius.

With a deep sigh he opened his eyes and stared into the distance. It doesn't have to be like this; we can find another way. There is no other way.


Merlin had thought he would feel the effects of the antidote: a tingle, a bright flash of light, something to reassure him the counterspell had worked. Gaius said calmly that the lack of any outward sign was normal and he was positive the antidote had worked. Almost positive. He was absolutely certain the antidote had probably worked.

Shifting the heavy basket piled with Arthur's laundry to ease the ache in his arms, Merlin peered over the load to see Morgana walking toward him down the corridor. He stumbled, wondering how he should react when he saw her. If she knew he had uncovered their plot, she and Morgause would quickly come up with another plan; better to let them think the love spell continued to work.

The sight of her did not cause immediate and total absorption, although he noticed how her hair rippled, the smooth dark waves bouncing with each step she took. He had long wondered if those raven locks would feel as silky as they looked; now he knew they did.

She had seen him. One black brow arched and a tiny smirk twitched her beautiful lips. For just a moment he remembered her kissing him and he stumbled again. Her eyes went past him as she continued down the hall. Well, pretending he was affected by her would not be terribly hard.


Merlin let the pestle drop into the bowl, spun the handle in a slow circle, lifted, and dropped again, staring sightlessly across the physician's workroom. When he heard Gaius say his name in an exasperated tone, Merlin realized his guardian had called him a few times already. He blinked and looked at the old man. "What?"

"I said that powder is ground fine enough. There won't be anything but dust if you continue."

The old man gestured to the bowl and Merlin looked down to see a cloud of fine, greenish particles hovering over the green powder under the pestle.

"Dare I ask what is on your mind?"

Merlin puffed out a breath and used his forearm to swipe at his brow hoping the powdery dust floating up toward him was not as noxious as it smelled. "I was just thinking –," he ignored the eye roll and raised white brow, "– if I should ask Morgana to meet me."

The eyebrow rose higher. "Why would you do that?"

"She might expect me to try to see her while under the influence of the potion and then I can use that opportunity to persuade her not to help Morgause."

"Are you certain this is your idea and not a lingering effect of the poison?"

"Yes." Merlin's dark brows knitted together. "It's for Arthur's protection. If I can convince her that Morgause is as much a threat as Uther, then we'll all be safer." He watched Gaius's face, wondering if talking to Morgana was dangerous or merely crazy.

The old man shook his head sadly. "You can't help her, Merlin."

"I have to try."


After Gwen left, Morgana got up from bed and went to stand at her window. Her chamber was warm but the night air was cool against her face. A nearly-perfect circle of moon rose large and orange above the city, seeming to touch the highest battlements. Below her in the courtyard, a fire cast flickering light on the helmets of the guards where they gathered to exchange news and gossip, their voices rough and their laughter coarse. A faint breeze carried the smell of smoke along with the stink of horse manure into her chamber.

When she heard her name called, Morgana looked down in surprise but not one of the soldiers had turned a head in her direction. She glanced around her chamber; there was no one there. When she heard her name again she realized the voice was inside her head, like the whispers her sister had used to guide her to their meeting, but it was not her sister's voice.

Morgana's eyes widened; why would he …? Her gaze fell on the tiny vial sitting on her dresser. Ah, he wanted to see her. She wondered if she should oblige him or leave him in suspense. Her instinct was to ignore him but she was curious what he would say to her. It had been a week since she realized who he really was and they had yet to speak about it. He had been avoiding her and she had let him, her thoughts too chaotic and her emotions too volatile to put into words.

She moved to her dressing table and picked up the vial, then set it down again. She had nothing to mix it in and besides there were questions she wanted to ask him and she wanted answers unmuddled by the last dose of the potion.

He called again. She would have to get Merlin to teach her how to use the mind-speak herself; so far she could hear those who spoke to her in that way but she had never been able to respond. Morgana caught herself at that thought; her sister would show her when she was ready, she did not need anyone else's instruction.

Morgana threw her purple cloak around her shoulders before she slipped quietly out of her room, following the voice. She was becoming expert at roaming the dark corridors while avoiding notice.

She found him on a battlement that looked out over the city, one which was not a strategic lookout and was unpatrolled. He waited beside a stone crenel, his face shadowed by the moon behind him which had risen higher and shrunk slightly, the orange a little faded.

She moved to the crenel beside him and looked out over the city at the stationery fires which marked guard posts and the bobbing torches carried by those who patrolled the walls. The breeze was stronger up here, the smell of horses fainter, and the voices of people below were swallowed by the night's silence.

Her gaze slid sideways to him. "Merlin."

He was watching her. "Morgana."

"I don't understand. You have power, you have even had opportunities to let Uther die without lifting a finger. Why do you continue to act like a servant? Why not rule yourself?"

"I don't want that, I never did."

He did not appear shocked by the suggestion and she wondered if such a proposition had already been put to him.

"I don't even envy Arthur, or Uther, for the duty that lies on their shoulders. My power, the gift I was given, is enough responsibility. No one is meant to have total control." Merlin's right hand massaged the back of his neck. "That's why Uther hates magic, you know, because for all his power he cannot control it. Nimueh was the same, and Morgause is, too: they want all the power, total control, and no good will come of it. Nimueh put Arthur's life in danger, she threatened my mother, and she threatened Gaius."

So it had been him who faced Nimueh that day and defeated her. Morgana recalled the unease in her sister's eyes when she told of the thunder and lightning. How could he have been so close all this time and she never saw a hint of his buried power? Why was he fighting against them instead of with them? "We want the same as you, to be free and safe and not hide who we are. Don't you want to be recognized?"

"That time will come, I know it."

"How long are you going to wait? Uther could reign for years and years, decades even. Arthur might be old and grey before he wears the crown."

Merlin frowned. "I don't think it will be like that."

"But how do you know?" She stared at him as though it was the first time she had seen him. How had she missed that same cool determination in him that her sister showed? That determination that drove him to ruthlessness if it was the only way to protect those he took responsibility for. "We will not be safe as long as Uther reigns. Aren't you afraid?"

"I'm afraid of a lot of things, but my fears do not control me."

Her eyes narrowed at the criticism and she took a step closer, searching his face. "Do you truly believe I can change Uther's mind about magic, or would he have me executed if he knew?"

Merlin's eyes darted from side to side before he hung his head slightly. "I think Uther is too far gone for anyone to reach him." His head came up and the blue eyes met hers. "But I wouldn't let him execute you."

The simple declaration from a man who had proven how far he would go to fulfill his self-appointed duty froze her where she stood. She shivered in the breeze despite her heavy cloak and realized the air felt cooler because her cheeks were flushed.

Morgana wondered how much of his protectiveness was due to the potion or if any of it was genuine. He had saved her from the Witchfinder and he had been the one to lead her to Aglain in the Druid camp, but it was her sister who had shared magic with her. Merlin had denied the truth, about her and about himself. Only her sister would keep her safe by destroying Uther, then they would all be free. And if she could convince Merlin to help them instead of hinder them, the world they dreamed of would come to pass much sooner.

Morgana reached out and took his left hand in both of hers. "If you aid us we can share the power."

He stiffened, then he deliberately laid his right hand on top of hers. "Morgause would see everyone in this city dead if it meant she could bring Uther down. It's better to wait until Arthur is ready to be king."

Morgana had had her fill of waiting, living in fear of Uther's tyranny with no end in sight. Her sister promised they could end his reign now, not in some distant future. "Morgause will not slaughter innocents. We only seek to end Uther's injustice."

He shook his head. "When Arthur is ready –"

"When he takes the throne nothing will change, not really." Morgana slanted a look at Merlin. "If I were queen, you would have everything you want." Deliberately she put her arms around his neck and moved closer to press her mouth to his.

He tensed, then his arms came around her and he kissed her back, although not with the desperation he had shown before.

She touched her tongue to his lips and abruptly the kiss deepened as his arms clenched her tighter. She felt her magic stir, felt her own power brush against something strong and deep and nearly overwhelming, and she fell back a step. The sensation subsided when she broke the physical contact between them.

For a moment, she stared at Merlin who looked back with the same stunned expression she knew must be on her warm face. Then she turned and raced for the stairs.


Two nights later, Morgana again made her way silently through the citadel. Most within the castle were asleep at this hour, but even had it been midday she would have needed the light from several torches to make her way through the dark dungeon corridors. Perpetual coolness and dampness lingered and Morgana could not shake the feeling of being watched even though she knew the guards had already passed through this area and would not return for at least an hour.

Then the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and Morgana spun around to see the blonde priestess standing behind her, dressed regally in a floor-length cloak of silver blue. They had not seen each other since Morgause had advised Morgana about her dream. Then, Morgana had been overjoyed to see her sister face to face. This time, her sudden appearance in the depth of the dungeon disconcerted Morgana.

"What is it you wanted to tell me, Sister?" Morgause asked.

Morgana's heart slowed its sudden rapid beating. "Arthur rides at dawn. He's been sent to recover some kind of cup. The Cup of Life, they called it?"

Uther had been terrified when Leon mentioned a cup that had been used to save his life. The king's reaction had caught Morgana's attention immediately; whatever this artifact was she could not let him have it.

Morgause's brown eyes fixed on Morgana, her reaction every bit as intense as Uther's had been. "The Cup of Life? Are you sure?"

"I heard every word."

The blonde paced several steps away, her eyes darting around unseeingly. "How long I have searched for it. It has not been seen since Nimueh took it to the Isle of the Blessed the day she disappeared."

"Is it as powerful as they believe?"

Morgause stopped pacing to look at Morgana over her shoulder. "Oh, yes. Trust me, Sister; with the Cup in our possession, Camelot would soon be at our mercy. Where is the Cup now?"

"It's in the hands of the Druids. All I know is that their camp lies within Cenred's kingdom."

The name of Essetir's monarch brought a predatory glint to her sister's eye. For all his arrogant swaggering, the warrior king would do almost anything his lover told him to.

A broad smile spread across Morgause's face. "Then perhaps Cenred will be of use to us again. He has spies everywhere. If he can have Arthur followed, then Arthur will lead us all the way to the Cup itself."

For a moment the gleam in her sister's eye made Morgana doubt the wisdom of sharing this news with her. Was the Cup any safer in Morgause's hands than it would be in Uther's? Morgana gave herself a mental shake. If Uther was determined to wrest this Cup from the Druids, of course it would be better if Morgause had possession of it.

"How goes our other plan, Sister?"

The question startled Morgana from her thoughts of the Cup. She had avoided Merlin since the interlude on the battlement and the final dose of poison remained in the vial on her dresser. But Morgause would have no patience for excuses.

Morgana attempted a smile. "Merlin has drunk nearly all of the potion."

"Have you learned anything about Gaius's plans?"

"No."

Morgause frowned. "Perhaps it would be best to simply kill the old man, then it will not matter what he knows or what his intentions are. We cannot afford distractions until the Cup is in our grasp."

"No." At her sister's sharp gaze, Morgana lowered her voice. "It is not Gaius who works against us."

The perfectly shaped mouth thinned. "Then who is it?"

Morgana stopped herself from shrinking back at the controlled fury in Morgause's voice. "An old man, he called himself Dragoon." Morgana wondered why she had used the name of Merlin's alter ego instead of revealing his secret to her sister.

A pleased smile crossed Morgause's face. "Ah, the old man who set Uther's courtyard on fire? That was quite a show, I understand."

Clearly her sister had other spies in Camelot.

Then the blonde priestess frowned. "He was found guilty of enchanting the prince and your serving girl was not executed or banished after all."

"It is no matter, Sister. Their relationship has been exposed. Uther will not tolerate any further sign of affection between them. Arthur will never marry Gwen as long the king is alive."

"And when Uther has been defeated, you will take his place on the throne." Morgause took Morgana's hands in both of her own. "You have done well, Sister. Leave the Cup to me, and soon all that we dreamed of will come to pass. You will free us; magic will reign again in Camelot. There will be no need to hide who you are, no need to fear. You will make a wonderful queen."

At the admiration in her sister's eyes, Morgana pushed aside the doubts Merlin had raised in her mind. She would show him that Morgause was right.


"Hard work this quest business," Gwaine said.

"Trust me, it's a great deed we did here today."

Merlin frowned at Arthur's self-assurance. "Are you sure the Cup wasn't safer with the Druids?"

"They can't be trusted, Merlin. No one can. The only safe place for the Cup is the vaults of Camelot."

With that pronouncement, the prince tucked the precious Cup into a pouch which he tied to a thong slung over his shoulder. He confidently led the way out of the gulley which sheltered the cave entrance.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at the cave's depths. Merlin wished the Cup had not been entrusted to his care. The Druids should have kept it hidden; Arthur would not have harmed that child. "We have to get it there first," he muttered.

He followed the prince on foot into the woods. The slave trader, Jarl, had kept their horses and they would be unable to obtain replacement mounts until they were back in Camelot.

After hours of walking through the Forest of Gedney, Merlin's feet were sore, his knees ached, he was thirsty and hungry, and his eyes were continually drawn to the pouch bouncing at Arthur's hip. If the slaver was still searching for them, if bandits crossed their path, if Cenred's soldiers saw them … Guard it well. The future of this land depends on it, Iseldir had said. You meddle with a power you do not understand. By taking the Cup of Life you risk more than you know.

The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck prickled. He would feel better once they crossed the border. Cenred was not a strong ruler, relying on mercenaries rather than knights and leaving Essetir's outlying lands to bandits and slavers, but he knew everything that happened in his land. Even under cover it was unlikely the three of them had entirely escaped his notice. It was a relief that Morgana knew nothing about this quest because if she had told Morgause the risk would be tenfold.

The thought of Morgana brought to mind other memories and Merlin determinedly pushed them aside. She had seemed to listen to him, but since their meeting on the battlement, Morgana had avoided him and he was not certain if her blind faith in her sister had truly wavered. Nor had he dared approach her again; pretending to be under her spell was re-awakening feelings he had long since buried that were best forgotten.

"We're approaching the border of Cenred's lands," Arthur said, pointing. "Beyond the forest lies Camelot."

"And food and water and a nice hot bath," Gwaine added.

Arthur stopped and held up one hand. "Quiet. Listen."

Merlin paused. "I don't hear anything."

In fact, even the bird calls and rustling of small animals in the underbrush had died away.

"Exactly," Arthur said.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Never satisfied, you city types. It's too noisy, it's too quiet –"

Before he could finish his sentence, a dozen armed and helmeted men emblazoned with Essetir's serpent on a grey shield appeared from behind every clump of brush and every tree trunk around them.

"Run!" Arthur shouted.

By the time Merlin took care of the soldier chasing him and circled around to Arthur, the prince lay unconscious on the forest floor. With a glance, Merlin took in the Essetir soldier holding the Cup, Arthur's bag discarded at his feet, and the wounded prince with a crossbow bolt protruding from his leg. Merlin threw up a hand and his eyes flashed gold. The soldier was thrown backward several paces. His neck cracked against a tree trunk and the Cup flew out of his limp hand before he dropped to the ground, unmoving.

With a worried glance at the unconscious Arthur, Merlin sprinted in the direction the Cup had flown only to find himself surrounded by six more of Cenred's men. One lifted a crossbow, one an axe, and three more swords, while one snatched the Cup and sprinted away. The others did not follow; apparently they had orders to kill them all whether or not they got the Cup.

In a flash, the crossbow flew out of its owner's hand to splinter against a tree stump. The axe likewise went flying and the sword of the soldier closest to Merlin glowed burning hot. The soldier dropped the sword with a curse but the other two rushed Merlin. He threw up both hands and the soldiers went flying in opposite directions.

The soldier he had disarmed of his crossbow now drew a sword, but before he could advance or Merlin could react, the man grunted and fell. Behind him, Gwaine withdrew his sword, gave Merlin a broad grin, and immediately engaged the last two soldiers. The battle was over in moments.

Merlin took a step in the direction the man with the Cup had disappeared, then his eyes were drawn back to Arthur lying on the sticks and tree roots of the rough ground. Gwaine dropped to one knee beside the prince, his face grave.

"Merlin," Gwaine said. "This doesn't look too great."

The younger man stared worriedly after the vanished Cup, then turned and knelt beside Arthur. The prince's face was already an alarming blueish colour and sweat coated his forehead. His body twitched although his eyes did not open.

"The arrow must have been poisoned," Merlin said. "He's got a fever; we need to keep him warm." Merlin shrugged out of his jacket to put over Arthur.

Gwaine's eyes moved around them, bloody sword grasped in one fist. His gaze took in the six fallen soldiers, only three of which he had cut down, before it came back to Merlin. Merlin busily laid a hand on Arthur's brow and fussed with the jacket, not meeting his friend's eyes.

"I don't get it. Why all this bother over a cup?" Gwaine asked.

"Because in the wrong hands it can become a terrible weapon."

Gwaine looked at Arthur's empty pouch and then glanced around at the forest. "Not so great Cenred's got it, then."

"It's worse than you can possibly imagine."