They used the remainder of the day to put more distance between themselves and the village, not that Merlin expected the villagers to trouble them further as long as they did not return. Likewise, there was no reason to think the bandits had any reason – or the inclination – to pursue them.
While they walked, Bruin told his family's story. His wife's magic had been discovered by their neighbours and he had fled with the two children after soldiers took their mother. Then he and his family had been forced to abandon their new home when Ysmay's powers came to light and they had wandered from place to place until he got caught stealing food. Ysmay helped him escape and shortly after they joined the group of bandits. The outlaws accepted them without question as long as Bruin could hold his own in a fight.
Merlin pretended to ignore every condescending glare Morgana sent him each time the tale involved the intolerance of Camelot's citizens toward magic. It was partially her fault Arthur remained convinced of the evils of magic.
Their pace was slow. The boy, whose name was Uwain, was forced to take two steps to every one of his father's and Ysmay slowed whenever her gaze wandered to the sky.
When the dragon first dipped low enough in her flight that the mist could not mask her alien form, Uwain gasped in shock and Bruin drew his sword. Ysmay's jaw had dropped as she stared upward, fascinated by the magical creature. When Merlin and Morgana assured their new companions the white dragon was a friend, Ysmay's rapt gaze fastened on them before returning to the creature overhead. As if sensing the attention, Aithusa's flight path was especially acrobatic.
Far from resenting their new companions the way Morgana had begrudged Sefa's company, she was more open than Merlin remembered seeing her since she had strolled through the market talking and laughing with Gwen a lifetime ago. Ysmay questioned the sorceress relentlessly, eager for knowledge, and Morgana answered every query. At first, they spoke of the dragon and then of magic generally. Once or twice they stopped walking to practice a spell.
When they made camp, Bruin hunted rabbits and squirrel to fatten their evening meal. The children collected mushrooms, gorse, cowberry, and chickweed. Ysmay also found a few bright yellow blooms she shyly offered to Morgana.
Merlin was pleased to share his workload, more so when Morgana took over the cooking. Rather than being solely responsible to provide food as well as all the other duties he routinely handled, the only tasks left for him were to fetch water for drinking, cooking, and washing and build a fire.
Bruin and Uwain walked warily around the dragon. Aithusa took no notice of them, but seemed as curious about Ysmay as she was about the magical creature. After the fire was lit, Merlin crouched next to Aithusa and laid one hand on her head. Then he beckoned to Ysmay. Her eyes lit but her steps were hesitant. When she was within an arm's length, the dragon cocked her head and gave a chirrup.
"Ysmay, this is Aithusa. Aithusa, this is Ysmay."
Timidly, Ysmay stretched out her hand in greeting.
Aithusa touched her nose to the girl's hand, nodded once, and chirruped again.
"She can't talk yet," Merlin said. "But I think that means she's pleased to meet you."
Ysmay smiled. "Pleased to meet you, too."
After their meal, Uwain's eyes grew heavy as he sat leaning against his father's muscular frame.
Ysmay chattered with Morgana where they sat side by side with Aithusa curled up between them, the yellow flowers clasped tightly in Morgana's hand. They gathered a few dried stalks of honeysuckle and Morgana showed Ysmay a spell to bring the flower out of its winter sleep. The bloom did not last long but its sweet scent made the camp smell like summer.
Merlin watched the two women absently, one hand resting on the dragon's warm scales, his mind pleasantly blank. He started when Ysmay spoke to him.
"Emrys, would you like to try?"
Merlin and Morgana had continued to use the aliases they had given the villagers.
"Yes, would you?" Morgana tilted her head and gave him a small smile. "Or perhaps you could show us something new?"
For a moment he stared into her eyes, then he looked down at the spiky pink blossom in Ysmay's hand. He cupped his palms and brought them up to his mouth. "Gewyrc an lif." He opened his hands to let the tickling sensation free.
The blue butterfly flew to the flower Ysmay held and perched there, wings quivering slightly. The girl stared at the insect, her mouth shaped in an "O." Uwain's eyes snapped open and he uttered a small exclamation.
Merlin smiled at their reactions before his gaze met Morgana's. She was staring at him, her eyes tracking back and forth between him and the butterfly.
He looked away, seeing how dark the forest around them had become. "We should get some sleep."
"But –" Ysmay began.
"Emrys is right," Bruin said firmly, cutting off any further protests with a stern look at his daughter. "Morgaine has been patient with you but now it's time for bed."
He and his son left to relieve themselves while Ysmay dug a wooden comb from her pack. She tugged it through her curls which the wind had tied in knots, wincing at every stroke.
"Here." Morgana sat next to Ysmay and held out her hand.
The girl glanced uncertainly at Morgana's tangled hair but handed over the comb. Her nervousness faded quickly into a contented look as Morgana began at the ends and carefully worked the carved bit of wood through Ysmay's curly dark hair.
Bruin stopped short at the sight when he returned. He blinked once before busying himself laying out blankets for himself and the children.
"All done." Morgana handed Ysmay back the comb.
The girl took it and then looked up shyly. "I could do yours if you like."
Morgana touched her tangled hair self-consciously. Repeated washings had gotten it clean but finger-combing had done little to work out the snarls. "All right."
She sat on the ground and Ysmay knelt behind her to work the comb slowly and deliberately through the long, dark waves. For a moment it was so reminiscent of the Morgana Merlin had first known in Camelot with Gwen brushing her hair that he caught his breath.
When Ysmay was done, Morgana thanked her and the girl blushed as she tucked her comb away. She made her own trip into the woods and then huddled together with her father and brother under their blankets. Both males fell asleep quickly. Ysmay's eyes dropped shut not long after, one hand clasped around the dried stalk of honeysuckle with its faded blooms.
From his sleeping roll, Merlin watched as Morgana divided her newly-brushed hair into three parts and quickly wove them into a loose plait. When she was done, she lay down with the white dragon between them. The last thing Merlin saw before he closed his eyes was the smooth, dark braid wrapped over Morgana's shoulder.
They packed their belongings shortly after first light and resumed their journey westward. Following the pattern established the previous day, Merlin led while Morgana and Ysmay walked side-by-side behind him and Bruin with Uwain came last.
It was the coldest day yet; leaves crunched beneath their feet and fallen twigs snapped with a brittle crack when stepped on. The exposed branches of barren trees and stripped stalks of shorter plants were lined with white frost and mist coated the ground. Sounds of Aithusa's beating wings above, small four-legged creatures on the forest floor, and birdcalls from far away were loud in the damp air.
Bruin snagged a few more small game along the way and slung them over his shoulder.
They stopped mid-morning to break their fast and then continued. The fog slowly burned away as the sun passed above them but its bright rays carried little warmth and Merlin tugged his jacket tighter. He glanced upward. For the first time since they had left the village, Aithusa was not in sight. Probably the little dragon had gone hunting. Merlin puffed out a breath to see if it was visible.
"What is it?" Morgana regarded him narrowly, one hand clenched on the folds of her cloak to wrap it more tightly around her.
He realized he had stopped walking. The air was cold, but not cold enough to explain the way his breath momentarily backed up in his lungs as if an icy hand had squeezed his chest.
Bruin laid a hand on the hilt of his weapon and gazed around warily. Ysmay stared into the woods with her brow furrowed. Merlin followed the direction of her gaze and a shiver crept up his spine, though not as strongly this time.
"Cold," Ysmay said.
"Yes it is," her brother agreed. Uwain looked up at his father. "Can we stop soon and find someplace warm?"
Bruin relaxed his tense posture. "Perhaps."
The icy chill vanished, though the air was still frosty.
"I thought I saw a wisp of smoke over there." Bruin pointed in the direction Ysmay was staring.
Merlin closed his eyes, then opened them and they flashed gold as he checked the path in that direction. Not far away was a shack, its walls in good repair although dead weeds were thick in front of the door as well as around the rest of the tiny clearing. "There's a dwelling over there."
For no reason he could name, Merlin was reluctant to head for the shack but Bruin started in the direction Merlin had indicated. With a shrug, he followed, Morgana and Ysmay trailing even more slowly.
The shack was indeed in good repair, though no smoke rose from the chimney. The woodpile was only a few thick logs half buried in dirt and clumps of brown leaves.
"Looks like it would be warm enough," Bruin said. "Doesn't seem like anyone else is using it."
"It would be nice to sleep under a roof." Ysmay looked longingly at the shack, her unease from earlier apparently gone.
"I wonder if there's water nearby." Morgana craned her neck to see around the corner of the building. "They may have a well around back."
At that moment, the door of the shack swung outward and they all stared in surprise at the young man who stared back suspiciously, one hand held in front of himself.
"I'm sorry." Merlin smiled and spread his hands slightly. "We didn't know this was your home."
The young man appeared to relax somewhat though he did not smile in return. "It isn't."
He hesitated, then came out of the shack holding a torch though it was full daylight. That must have been the smoke Bruin had seen because the dwelling remained dark, its hearth unlit.
"We've been walking all day, we were looking for a place to eat and sleep," Merlin said.
The men's boots and the hem of the women's skirts were damp and dirty, attesting to the truth of his statement. The young man relaxed further, though he gave Bruin's leather armour and well-used blade a nervous glance.
"I'm Emrys, by the way." Merlin held out a hand.
The young man stepped forward and clasped his hand in return. "Royce."
"We'd be happy to lend a hand in whatever way you need in exchange for shelter. I'm a healer." Merlin indicated his pouch.
A smile touched the younger man's plain face at that. "As it happens, so is my grandmother so we don't need your assistance for ourselves, but maybe you can help, anyway." He closed the door of the shack behind him, snuffed out the torch in the damp earth, and led the way further into the woods. "It's not far," he said over his shoulder.
The dwelling they arrived at was in a cleared area the size of the citadel courtyard. The house had more than one room, the smaller having been added on to the older dwelling. A large stack of wood stood at one side to the height of the eaves, smoke came from a hole in the middle of the roof, and the gardens around it had been harvested.
A woman with long, brown hair was feeding a half dozen chickens in the yard. She put one hand on her back as she straightened up and used the other to shade her eyes to look in their direction. Her hair was the same dark brown as Royce's, though straight where his was short and curly.
Royce went directly toward her. "How is she?" he asked quietly.
The woman shook her head.
He hid his disappointment as he turned to the new comers. "This is my mother, Lynette."
She sent a questioning glance at her son, but greeted them politely.
"I'm Emrys," Merlin said, stepping forward. "This is Morgaine, Ysmay, Uwain, and Bruin."
Lynette nodded at them each in turn, her eyes lingering on Bruin who was staring back with a rapt expression. "Warn your grandmother we have company," she said to Royce, her cheeks slightly pink.
Although they seemed to live comfortably enough, they probably had little food to share. "We don't want to impose," Merlin said. "We can help –"
Before he could finish his sentence Bruin unslung his trophies from his shoulder. "I can provide meat for our meal. And perhaps there's other work that needs doing, repairs to make?" He looked toward the house.
Lynette shook her head, smiling as she did so.
"I could stockpile wood for winter," he offered.
Merlin's brows rose as he looked from the tall stack of wood to the former bandit and back again.
"Emrys!" Royce called from the door of the house.
He beckoned Merlin, who moved to the doorway and took in the interior of the house. This was the room that had been added to the original shack, its wooden walls not quite as chipped. All manner of plants hung from the rafters and it smelled like a physician's workroom: a mixture of herbs, strong soap, and sweat-soaked blankets so that no one scent could be distinguished. In fact, it looked much like Gaius's workroom. Every surface was piled with plants and containers and utensils, including both tables, and there was a bed in one corner, except here the tables were planks spread across upturned barrels and the bed was merely blankets spread on the dirt floor.
A small figure was wrapped up on the makeshift bed and an old woman crouched beside, face curtained by wisps of white hair which had escaped her long braid.
The elderly woman looked up at Merlin's entrance. "I'm Valdis. My grandson tells me you are a healer. I doubt you can do more than I for this child, but if there is even a chance you can help, please do."
Merlin came closer, expecting to see the patient in the throes of a fever but what he saw was more frightening: a small face with nearly translucent skin traced by blue lines. The forehead was cold rather than hot, though the child was not shivering. Merlin pulled one small, skinny hand from under the blankets; it, too, was icy to the touch and traced by blue lines.
He glanced up at the elderly healer. "What sickness is this?"
"We don't know. She's the third person to fall ill this year with the same symptoms."
"A year?" Sickness traveled from one victim to another much more quickly. His gaze met the woman's knowing eyes. "Magic."
Valdis nodded. "I've been unable to help any of them. I've tried everything." She looked up at her grandson, then back at the child wrapped in blankets.
Merlin looked at her sharply. "Everything?"
"Royce tells me you're a healer. If there's anything you might be able to do for the child, please try."
He watched the slight rise and fall of the child's chest, shallow and regular, while her eyes remained open and staring blankly. "Have you tried a poultice of betulial, or belladonna to stimulate the heart?"
"Yes." The woman lifted one bony, wrinkled hand to lay it on his sleeve. "If you have any other healing knowledge, this would be the time to use it."
For a long moment, Merlin stared into the old woman's grey eyes. Then he sighed and laid his cupped hands over the child's chest. "Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare."
His eyes glowed golden but there was no change in the patient. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the old healer bow her head sadly. Warily, he looked from the old woman to Royce, who remained standing just inside the room. Neither appeared the least disturbed to see him use magic.
Merlin's hands clenched more tightly. "Ic the thurhaele thinu licsar mid thamsundorcraeft thaere ealdan ae." He said the spell correctly, but he could not feel the usual warm surge of magic.
The child's breathing remained shallow, the eyes unblinking.
Morgana nudged him aside and knelt next to the blankets. Her gaze fastened on the pallid face of the child and she stretched out a hand from the folds of her brown cloak to lay one palm on the child's forehead. "Seópan ærest wearð feasceaft funden. Denum æfter dom. Dreamleas gebad he gewann langsum."
Her eyes flashed but her spell had no effect.
Morgana frowned. "Seópan ærest wearð feasceaft funden. Denum æfter dom. Dreamleas gebad he gewann langsum."
"It's as I feared." The old woman passed a hand across her face. "Magic doesn't work in the presence of this pestilence, whatever it is."
"Yes, just like –" Royce broke off his sentence and bit his lip.
Merlin looked down at the patient. The child's eyes were still staring upward but the blankets covering her chest no longer rose and fell.
Morgana ignored them. "Butan þæt cwalu. Hrðe þon aidlian. Hrðe þon eðian. Bot ond tile."
Merlin put his hand on her shoulder. "You tried."
She shook off his hand. "My healing spells always work."
"Sometimes there's nothing you can do." Living with a physician had taught him that truth.
"But –"
"The boy is right." The elderly healer took Morgana's hand in her wrinkled hand one. "This could not be cured by medicine or magic, it was beyond anyone's ability to heal." She met her grandson's eyes and they exchanged a look of deep sadness touched with unease.
The old woman drew one thin blanket up across the child's face.
"You should lie down, you look tired," Royce said.
"I am." Valdis looked toward Merlin and Morgana. "Thank you both for your help and for your trust, I know it's no small thing to share your secret."
Arthur's face flashed before Merlin's eyes. He set aside that complicated mesh of emotions and regarded the healer closely. "You already tried to cure that girl with magic, didn't you?"
"The attempt was unsuccessful, as it was with the other two who died of the same symptoms." Her gaze was fixed on the small form beneath the blanket. "I imagine you need a meal and a place to rest for the night. You're welcome to –"
There was a scream of anguish from the doorway and Merlin saw a woman standing on the threshold. Her hand went to her throat and the blood drained from her face; then she rushed forward and shoved aside those who were crouched by the bedside. She clasped the small form to her chest still wrapped in its blanket. Her shoulders shook and her sobs filled the room.
Merlin and Morgana moved back to stand next to Royce.
Valdis braced her elderly frame against the wall as she got slowly to her feet, looking down at the mother holding her dead child and rocking slightly. After several minutes she laid one wrinkled hand on the woman's head. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" The woman's head snapped up, her face wet. "This curse is your fault."
Valdis exchanged a look with her grandson before her gaze returned to the mother's tear-soaked face. "We did everything we could to heal her," she said softly, carefully.
"This plague is a judgement on us for tolerating your sorcery, for allowing you to live."
Morgana's face darkened and Merlin sent her a warning look.
The mother struggled to her feet while holding the child's body, one corner of the blanket trailing to the dirt floor. "This is the last sickness and suffering your sorcery will bring to this village."
She stormed out of the small room, the sound of renewed sobbing trailing in her wake.
"How dare she," Morgana began.
"She's grieving," Merlin said.
The witch spun to face him, her forehead creased and her green eyes wild.
He stood his ground and she thought twice about whatever she had been about to do.
"She's in pain." The old woman's voice was not raised yet they both subsided and looked toward her. Her lined face was sad. "Give the girl's mother time to come to terms with her grief and she will see the foolishness of her words. My grandson and my daughter will take care of you." Her white brows drew together. "Unless you feel unsafe here. We understand if you wish to leave."
"We would be happy to eat with you," Merlin said. "And we can help with the meal."
She nodded. "You have a good heart." She made her way slowly through the doorway that led to the inner room.
When the healer had gone, Merlin turned to Royce. "Three people have died in the past year? With the same symptoms?"
"Yes."
"Have the villagers blamed your grandmother before?"
Morgana muttered under her breath but he paid no attention.
Royce shrugged. "There is always talk off and on, but after the second victim died and it seemed magic was involved, of course the rumours started again. It's mostly led by that white-haired old fool who calls himself the village chief." His mouth hardened into a tight line. "But it's always gone away in time. The people here need my grandmother; she's the only healer for many leagues."
If only they could have saved that little girl. Merlin's healing spells were not always effective, but this failure felt different; as if something had blocked his magic. His spells tried to work but the plague snuffed them out. An empty feeling, a powerlessness, had hovered around the girl, making it difficult to breathe. A voice drew him out of his reverie.
"Have you seen this before?"
Royce was staring at him. "Yes, something similar, but it can't possibly be the same."
"Are you certain?" The young man's eyes were bright. "If we can figure out the source then we can show everyone my grandmother has nothing to do with this plague."
Merlin shook his head. "It can't be the same as what I've seen before."
Royce looked at him pleadingly.
He sighed. "At Samhain last year, the spirits of the dead were released when the Veil between the worlds was torn." Merlin sent Morgana a scathing look.
Royce paled at mention of the Dorocha.
"If a wisp passed through a victim, he died instantly, frozen. But if one of the Dorocha brushed against someone, he died more slowly; pale and cold with a tracing of blue lines beneath the skin. But when the tear in the Veil was healed the Dorocha were sealed on the other side once again."
He could not stop the image of Lancelot from flashing before his eyes, that last look over the knight's shoulder as he walked into the tear, into the mouth of hell. The pain of his friend's death had dulled, especially with their final goodbye, but it smouldered just the same.
Merlin's hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. "Were there victims here?"
Royce nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "We were luckier than some, but one family was entirely wiped out. Their home remains empty to this day. If any of them died slowly, we were unaware. The ones I know of who encountered those creatures from hell died instantly."
The reason for the young man's presence at that empty shack, carrying a torch in daylight, was suddenly clear.
"You felt the cold there, didn't you?" Merlin asked.
"Yes."
"It isn't only your grandmother who has magic."
Royce's mouth twisted. "My grandmother doesn't have magic. She's a healer, not a witch."
"It was you who tried to heal the girl using sorcery?"
"I help when I can, when my grandmother's methods fail." He sighed. "But even I couldn't help the child you saw, or either of the victims before her. All I could sense was something that blocked my magic, something that felt cold, and I remembered feeling that same sensation at the abandoned hut."
"That must be the source of the plague." Merlin's excitement faded as Royce shook his head.
"I didn't find anything. Even the feeling of cold came and went and because of that I can't show the other villagers that my grandmother isn't responsible for this illness. They all know sorcery is involved, so naturally they blame her."
"Why not tell them she's not a sorceress?"
"Because then they'll know someone else has been making the charms my grandmother sells along with her remedies and they'll guess it's either my mother or me."
The expression on the young man's face was so ridden with guilt that Merlin felt his heart clench. "Valdis is protecting you."
"And I'm letting her protect me the way she protected my father before he died. It's not safe to admit to having magic."
Shame uncurled in Merlin's gut and he could feel Morgana's accusing glare now burning into his back. Not that her reign had done anything to make these people safer.
Royce rubbed his temples. "The best way to protect my grandmother, and all of us, is to find the real cause of these deaths." He looked at Merlin anxiously. "The cold I felt – at the hut and when I tried to heal those people – it was like my magic was cut off by an emptiness, a powerlessness that stole my breath. That's what I felt the time the Dorocha got close to here."
"But the Dorocha are gone now," Merlin said. "I saw the tear close."
Royce's expression was awed. "They say the bravest of the king's knights saved us. He vanquished the evil sorceress who tore the Veil between the worlds and she killed him for it."
A wry smile twisted Merlin's face. "That isn't exactly what happened, but it's true the Veil was sealed. The Dorocha are gone from this world."
"Could one be trapped on this side of the Veil?"
Merlin looked at the young man in horror. "I don't know."
Morgana gave a sharp indrawn breath. "It's possible. If it was stuck at the moment the tear between the worlds was sealed, it would now be trapped. It will remain anchored to that spot, unable to return to the Other World."
"Then we open the Veil again," Royce said excitedly, "let it through, and heal the tear."
"No!" Merlin flushed when Royce looked at him, startled by his tone. "It requires a blood sacrifice to tear the Veil, even at its thinnest, and another to close it."
Royce's face fell. "Then we need to find a cure, a way to help those who are touched by the Dorocha and heal them."
Merlin shook his head. "There's only one who survived and that remedy won't work again." He paid no attention to Morgana's sharp glance. "If we can find this wisp, we can prove it's not connected with your family and make sure no one else gets near."
Hope touched Royce's expression. "Yes. If we all work together we can accomplish what I was trying to do earlier. It would be best to go while the sun is still up." He spun on his heel and raced out of the hut.
Merlin followed, but the moment he stepped outside the hut Morgana grabbed his arm. Her grip was painful, even through layers of clothing, as she swung him around the corner of the dwelling out of sight of the others.
"What do you mean, there was one who survived the Dorocha?"
He yanked his arm from her grip, angry with her at the reminder of the events last year.
She paled and fell back a step. "No mortal has ever survived their touch, it's not possible."
The fear in her expression quashed his fury. He heaved a sigh. "Never mind that."
"But, if there is a way to heal, why didn't you use it now?" Morgana's voice trembled but she held his gaze.
His mouth twisted. "I didn't heal myself, I had help." He reached up to massage the back of his neck. "But once balance was restored, good spirits as well as bad were no longer able to roam freely. The Vilia returned to the brooks and streams just as the Dorocha returned to the Other World."
She stared at him, her lips parted and her breath coming in short gasps. "Even the Dorocha didn't kill you? Why are you always in my way?"
"Why would you let loose an unstoppable curse like the spirits of the dead? How could you sacrifice your own sister?"
A strangled gasp escaped Morgana but he refused to feel sympathy for her sacrifice. She had done so willingly and it had cost Lancelot his life, along with so many others.
Morgana's hand shook. "I didn't want to do that! She begged me, she told me it would bring our enemies to their knees."
"It brought the kingdom to its knees, the kingdom and everyone in it! Do you care even a little for all those who died?"
Her mouth tightened. "All those who supported Uther, who support Arthur. All those who are so quick to believe that a mysterious death must be the work of an evil sorceress."
Merlin stepped closer to her, satisfied by her cringe. "These deaths are the work of an evil sorceress."
"At least I'm willing to take action, to take a risk to force change rather than hide in the shadows."
He knew well the risks she was willing to take, risk to herself and everyone else. She was reckless and she did not care who might be harmed in her self-appointed quest to take the crown. More than once she had unleashed the dead without a thought for the price to be paid, even when the price was her own sister. At least with the skeleton army and Cenred's undead soldiers, Morgause had retained control, but the Dorocha – even Morgana had been vulnerable.
He grasped her arm. "How is it the Dorocha never attacked you in that hovel?"
She tugged against his grip but he refused to release her.
"How, Morgana?"
"Protection ward. As long as I stayed within the boundary after nightfall, I was safe."
Excitement drowned out his previous anger at her. "Then we can use that spell to keep the villagers safe."
"An entire village? It takes time to weave the spell, and more time the bigger the safe zone. Even if we drew wards around the village, the spell loses effectiveness the wider it's cast and it's not practical for everyone to shelter within it every night."
Merlin frowned. "The wards are meant to keep the Dorocha from entering a place, right?"
Puzzled, Morgana nodded.
"Will they also confine a Dorocha to a space?"
Understanding lit her face. "Yes."
"Then we'll find this wisp and imprison it so it can't harm these people further."
She moved closer and stared him down. "Why protect people who are so willing to blame an old woman for their troubles?"
"Because magic is meant to help people." He tightened his grip on her arm. "And this is your mess to fix."
"Fine." Morgana yanked her arm away and straightened her sleeve. "But only to keep Valdis safe from their ignorance and fear."
They found Royce waiting impatiently, the other four having stopped their tasks to hear his story. His mother knelt on the ground with a knife and one of the rabbits Bruin had killed, her hands red and her skirt stained. Bruin leaned on a hoe, Uwain beside him with hands coated in dirt and a smudge on his forehead. Ysmay had apparently been cutting potatoes but she was now on her feet, her gaze jumping between Royce and her father.
Bruin's wide forehead was wrinkled. "Emrys, what's this about seeking some creature of magic?"
"We don't know for certain what it is," Merlin said. "But there's a threat and we need to find it and stop it."
"I can help, Father," Ysmay said.
The ex-bandit frowned at his daughter. "It sounds dangerous."
"Three have died already." Lynette's voice was quiet but the others turned to look at her where she crouched beside the half-skinned rabbit. "And more will die if this thing cannot be stopped."
Bruin glanced down at her and his expression softened.
"We have a better chance if we work together to find it and trap it," Royce said. "And each of us should have a torch."
"Morgaine is not afraid and I'm not, either." Ysmay stepped closer to Morgana and took her hand.
Morgana looked down, startled, before she gripped the girl's hand tightly and faced them all. "I know a spell that will stop this, but we need to locate the wisp quickly, before the sun goes down. The wards have to be in place before dark."
"All right, then." Bruin set down his hoe. "Let's go."
"Stay here with Mother. You'll not be able to help," Royce said.
Bruin cut him off. "I can carry a torch as easily as any of you. My daughter isn't going into danger without me."
Lynette stood and reached toward her son, realized her hand was covered in rabbit blood, and lowered it again. "Be careful." Her eyes flicked from Royce to Bruin.
"We will." Royce bent to kiss his mother on her forehead.
He led the group, Bruin behind him, Morgana and Ysmay next, and Merlin last.
Before they reached the treed area beyond the yard, Uwain rushed up to his father carrying two long, thick branches from the woodpile. "I can carry a torch, too."
Bruin seemed about to send the lad back, but then he gave the boy a nod and a pat on the back.
The six of them retraced their steps in the direction they had come a short time earlier. It was not long before Royce halted and Merlin felt a touch of cold as he recognized the group of tall pine trees that stood not far from the empty hut.
Royce whispered and the stick of wood he carried spouted flame. Uwain jumped when both of his did as well. He handed one of the burning brands to his father.
"I've been through the hut and I don't think it's inside, but I can't be sure," Royce said.
Merlin thought the icy sensation was coming from the yard behind the hut, but it was flickering and faint. He glanced at the sky; the sun was still above the tops of the pines to the west of them. "We should spread out. Whoever pinpoints the wisp, call the rest of us and we can help Morgana set up the wards that will seal it in."
Morgana nodded, her eyes fixed on a spot ahead. Ysmay looked in the same direction and shivered.
Merlin had collected a lump of wood on their trek through the trees, the stub of a thick branch from a fallen tree, and lit it with a flash of his eyes. He walked to the left, then paused, reaching out with his magic. The tingle of cold moved, sometimes ahead of him and sometimes to his right.
Bruin accompanied his daughter and instructed his son to stay with Morgana. Royce headed toward the abandoned hut. She followed him slowly, stopping to look around every few steps. Ysmay and Bruin were on Merlin's left but angling in his direction.
There was a well at the edge of the dooryard behind the hut, guarded by a low stone wall and topped by a small roof. Merlin moved closer, edging up to the circle of stones to peer down. As he leaned against the well, he flinched at the cold that seeped through his breeches where they touched the wall.
A sudden stir of air above his head made him pull back in alarm as something small and quick flew past his face. He ducked, torch held up, when two more tiny creatures with leathery wings soared over him and up into the trees. He took a deep breath after the bats disappeared overhead.
Without warning Bruin's torch went out and Ysmay gave a short, sharp scream as she stumbled backward and fell heavily. Her brother waved his torch wildly over her and Merlin caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye heading toward him. An shriek stabbed his ears.
Morgana whirled at Ysmay's shout, her gaze darting around wildly. She took two steps in Merlin's direction but stopped when the shriek vanished along with the scrap of white mist. The children exchanged a relieved look and Uwain reached a hand to help his sister up.
Then the wailing shriek sounded in Merlin's ear again and a tendril of white fog materialized in front of his face. He swung his firebrand and the wisp veered sideways before it blinked out.
Merlin spun around, frantically searching for the Dorocha, and stumbled against the well. He flinched as his bare hand brushed the cold stone, then he gasped. His eyes flashed gold and the wood that roofed the well burst into flame. The ear-splitting shriek sounded again but this time it echoed as the sound circled inside the steep shaft.
"Morgana! The Dorocha is in the well. You need to put the wards around it before that fire goes out."
The edges of the thin roof receded as flames ate away at them.
Morgana collected a long bough and walked a slow circle around the low stone wall, carving a line into the leaf-covered, soggy ground. As she began the incantation, another piercing shriek echoed up from the depths of the well and a curl of white mist flickered at the edge of the low wall before shrinking back from the flame.
Merlin stepped back from the circle Morgana had drawn. A corner of the roof crumbled and he tossed his firebrand across the top of the well to shore up the barricade of flames.
"Let them be, Alrick!"
Merlin looked around in surprise at Royce's shout. The young man's face was furious as he strode towards a group of villagers. The leader was a man with a thin silver beard and narrow lips pursed as if he had taken a bite of something sour. One of the men held Ysmay by her arms and another had Uwain. The boy was pale and shaking, his gaze fixed on his father. The former bandit put a hand on the hilt of his blade, but the white-haired man shouted a warning and Merlin saw his companions were armed with axes and scythes.
Morgana paused, the circle she had traced in the dirt beginning to glow faintly.
With one swift move, the white-haired man snuffed out Uwain's torch, ignoring Royce's protest.
"Tell the witch to stop her curse." Alrick pointed at Morgana. "Now."
"It's not a curse, she's trying to help you," Merlin said.
Another corner of the thin roof crumbled and fell, hissing when it hit the water far below.
"Valdis cursed us with a plague." The bushy white brows drew together beneath wisps of silver hair. "Now she's sent you to finish her evil work."
Royce's face reddened. "My grandmother has cared for the people of this village her entire life."
The man holding Ysmay had a thin face with a scar above his right eye which stood starkly white in his flushed face. "My daughter is dead because of this curse and I won't let you harm anyone else."
Royce paused and spoke more calmly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Edern. Truly. My grandmother did all she could."
"Yet the girl still died," said the man holding Uwain. "As did my son, as did Claudin's mother."
"And here you are, not far from where they were found, with a stranger who is casting an enchantment." Alrick wore a smug look on his wizened face.
With an angry glare at the old man, Royce turned back to the other men. "There is a curse here and we can contain it so no one else falls victim. Let us stop this." He glanced at the sky. The sun had already touched the tops of the trees.
"Let you cast another evil spell, more like," Alrick said. "The old witch is training a new one to carry on her sorcery."
Morgana's eyes narrowed. She dropped the branch and took a step toward the white-haired elder.
Merlin quickly stepped in front of her. "We're here to get rid of this plague. No one else will die, I promise."
Edern hesitated, his eyes tracking back and forth from Merlin to Royce. His grip on Ysmay loosened and she twisted away.
There was a blood-curdling wail and a wisp of white mist streaked upward from the depths of the well, aiming for the open space where there was no more roof. Royce leapt forward with their last burning brand but Alrick knocked the torch from Royce's hand.
Bruin landed a blow to the jaw of the man holding Uwain and he stumbled back, releasing the boy as he backed away. Bruin pushed his son behind him and stood between Uwain and the villagers.
The blood-curdling cry sounded again and Merlin saw the wisp reform behind Alrick's back.
"Look out!" Ysmay shoved the elderly man aside, then she staggered and fell.
"No!" Morgana was by the girl's side in an instant.
Keeping Uwain behind him, Bruin stepped between the villagers and his daughter on the ground.
"The girl attacked me," Alrick shouted.
The village men exchanged an uncertain look among themselves.
Alrick's thick white brows drew together. "Stop them!"
"I saw something behind you," Edern said. "I think the girl pushed you out of its way."
Another nodded. While they hesitated, Royce retrieved his smouldering torch and tossed it to Merlin.
A wisp of white flashed by the corner of Merlin's eye and another scream echoed up from the well. Merlin relit the torch and threw it across the widening gap in the flames roofing the stone circle. Then he repeated the words Morgana had chanted and the circle she had drawn in the dirt flared as brightly as the fire. The Dorocha screamed when it pressed against the invisible barrier.
Merlin shouldered Morgana aside and crouched beside Ysmay. His heart clenched when he saw the frost clinging to the dark curls around her face. Though he knew what he would find, he felt for a pulse in her throat. There was none. His eyes met Bruin's.
The man's swarthy skin paled beneath his thick red beard as he dropped to his knees beside his daughter. When Uwain knelt beside him, Bruin clasped his son in one arm.
The villagers backed away, weapons loosely grasped by their sides.
Alrick frowned at them but Royce stepped closer to the old man and stared him down.
"Go away, Alrick. You've done enough harm." He looked around at the other village men. "The threat has been removed. We're all safe now. Go home."
"How do we know we're safe?" one of the men asked.
Royce pointed to the well. "It's trapped. This plague will not bother us again."
Edern stepped forward and leaned toward the well. He flinched back and nodded to the others. "There's something in there that can't get out." He looked at Bruin crouched beside Ysmay's frozen form. "I'm sorry about your girl. I know … I understand …" Tears filled his eyes.
The former bandit fixed him with a malevolent stare and clamped one hand around the blade at his belt. "Get out of here."
With a last glance at the grieving family, the men turned and moved away.
After the others disappeared from sight, Alrick glared at Royce. "Don't think I'll forget sorcery was behind all of this. The day will come when your grandmother pays the price." With a last scornful glance at Royce, Alrick turned and left. Morgana got to her feet and stared at his back, but to Merlin's surprise she was pale rather than furious.
Merlin stood as Bruin picked up his daughter's body and started back toward Royce's family dwelling. The wisp writhed in its invisible bonds, unable to break free of the well, and Merlin whispered a spell. Anyone who approached the well would experience a feeling of dread and a conviction there was a better place to find water. Then he followed after Bruin in silence.
