"Emrys."
Her voice was far, far away. Too far away. And he was cold. Too cold to respond, too…
"I died."
"Emrys," the voice was insistent. "Come back. Your time in this world is not yet over. Come back, Emrys. Arthur is in danger."
"Arthur!" He gasped. The air burned his throat like acid. He tried to cry out with the pain, but it turned into a mewling scrape between tearing coughs. Arms wrapped around him, rocking him gently, loaning him warmth enough to tell him he was alive. Fingers brushed over his hair, soft as a spring breeze. He heard the quick-step beat of her heart, felt his own stutter over itself, catch, and start again, matching its beat to hers. The susurrus of her breath, steady as the earth, taught him the rhythm of breathing.
She shifted, pulled away from him. "Emrys? Are you here? Open your eyes…"
She sounded afraid, so he opened his eyes to reassure her.
"Oh… Thank the gods!" she breathed. "I feared it wouldn't work. I thought we'd lost you forever. No, don't talk." She brushed a finger over his lips, silencing his questions before he could ask them. "Rest now. We can talk later. Barris? We must get him back to the cave. Get him dry and warm again." A man appeared above them. His eyes were dark and unfathomable, deep with sorrow.
"What…?"
"Shhh, Emrys. Not now. We will speak when you've rested." The man- Barris- gathered him up, lifting him out of the cold and the wet. She rested warm fingers against his forehead. Sleep, heavy and quiet, draped over him.
It was warm when Merlin woke, nestled among thick blankets. A few feet away, a fire was dying into a pile of glowing embers and a spare handful of tallow candles lent the space a pale glow. He took a slow, deep breath then swallowed against the dryness in his throat. It ached, but it was tolerable. Someone hummed a tuneless melody and he pried his eyes open to find the singer. It was the bird-boned woman from the forest. "Aisling?" he rasped.
She looked up sharply, then smiled. "You're awake. How do you feel?" Aisling knelt beside him and laid a hand on his forehead. "No fever, and your color's returning."
"Throat hurts," Merlin whispered. "I'm thirsty."
"That can be remedied." She helped him sit up and tucked the blankets around him him as he sipped a cup water. "You have questions, I'm sure. I'll spare you the asking and tell you what I know." Aisling smiled, patting at her wiry gray hair with gnarled fingers. "I am a Druid and a healer with a small gift of the Sight. One week ago, I saw that you and Arthur Pendragon would be placed in terrible danger. My son, Barris, and I did what we could, but we could not stop them. I cannot fight, and he was just one against many." Aisling touched the charmstone on its cord around Merlin's neck. "Then I remembered this. My teacher gave it to me when I was a girl, as his teacher gave it to him. All the way back, they said, to Taliesin himself. I was told to keep it always, that I would know when it was needed. For years I doubted it, but when I saw you in the forest, Emrys, I knew. I knew what I had to do, and I thank all the gods I was strong enough."
"For what?" Merlin said. The water eased his throat, but past the skin-deep warmth of the fire, there was a chill in his bones no blanket could soothe.
"To heal your body and call your spirit back from the earth," she said. He stared back at her, uncomprehending. She cupped his cheek with a thin hand. "Oh, Emrys. There is so much even you don't know about yourself. I wish I could say with certainty, why this worked for you where it wouldn't have for anyone else. I could venture a guess that the earth conspires to keep you alive, but… I don't know."
Merlin stared into the dying flames, reaching up with shaking fingers to touch his throat where the blade had cut. The skin felt smooth and new. It would hardly leave a scar. "You're very skilled," he said. Aisling smiled in answer. "What of Arthur? The knights? What happened to them?"
"They were all alive, when last I saw them," a deep voice answered. The man, Barris, moved out of a shadow. "They took them to a farmstead less than a league from here. They took the Pendragon into the house, and locked the rest into some sort of cellar in a hillside. Half their force left before sunset, leaving some fifteen men behind. And their leader. I don't know their plans, though. I couldn't get close enough."
"Whatever their plans are, they can't be good. I have to go. I have to find Arthur." Merlin pushed the blankets away and stumbled up, making it halfway to his feet before his vision grayed and narrowed. Hands guided him down and tucked the blankets around him again.
"We'll go soon enough. But the night is black, and it's raining too hard to travel safely. Your attackers won't move until after dawn. I have Seen this, Emrys. Do you believe me?" He looked deep into Aisling's eyes and saw truth there. He nodded. "It's just after midnight now. We will set out well before dawn. For now, though, you must rest." Before he could say another word, she laid a hand on his brow and sent him back into sleep.