Averted

She closed her eyes and turned her attention inward, trying to find the light to show her the way.

"It is carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed".

"My magic is still weak."

"Cenred's army are mighty but they cannot bring down the city on their own."

"Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?"

"If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic's for."

"It is carved from the Rowan tree..."

"My magic is still weak."

"It carries its own power".

"It carries its own power."

"It carries its own power."

The memory of the crypt and the battle receded into a white mist and a woman walked out of it; glowing slightly with a warm light and a smile on her face. Brown hair tumbled to her shoulders and she wore the simple woollen dress of a peasant.

"Nothing can be done alone. I will help but both of you must stand together. He will show you the way. You know the truth, Morgana. It's time for the truth to know you."

Morgana opened her eyes on a darkening room with a gasp. She quickly stoked up the fire and lit candles against the gathering gloom. As night fell, this curse would only quicken and strengthen. If they did not act soon, they would never get the chance.

The door swung open and Merlin ran in and nearly thrust his hands into the fire to warm them. His lips and nose and hands were blue and she could see the first telltale signs of frostbite on his fingertips.

"I know what's going on," he said, teeth chattering in his skull. "I know what we have to do. And I know how this happened."

"It's my fault, isn't it?" she asked him softly.

He looked at her directly in that way that made her feel as though he'd tossed her inside out looking for something that wasn't there.

"Yes," he said bluntly. "It is."


He crouched down by the fire desperately trying to warn his hands while she stand there, silently, and watched him. She tried to stop, to think through the consequences but her natural defences slammed down and she found herself attacking him despite herself.

"So what now, Merlin? Poison? A sword? Or will you just leave me for the winter? Isn't that what you do to friends who make mistakes?"

He simply shook his head, ignoring her tone and her words.

He shook his head sadly. "It doesn't matter, Morgana. You can be as defensive as you like but I think you know what I'm saying is true."

Her bravado faded with the day as the sun finally set. There was only this room after all. That was the world. There was possibly no one left to bluster to.

"Something to do with the staff?" she asked, meeting his eyes bravely, "Using the staff to raise the dead like that. The staff's power..." Morgana trailed off; not having the knowledge to finish the sentence.

It carries its own power.

The silence filled the room for the moment; this last bastion against the cold and for a second the sheer claustrophobic wrongness of that enclosed space made her want to rush right out into the very literal depths of winter outside.

Merlin cleared his throat and stood from where he'd crouched by the fire to face her. She looked at his steel-blue eyes and realised that she was finally meeting, not the bumbling servant boy, but the man who had thwarted her plans time and again.

When he spoke, his voice held such authority that she did not argue, did not even question how he could know the things he suddenly did. She just knew he was telling her the truth.

"In the world," he said, calm and forthright, "there is a... balance... a flow of energy. There is life and there is death and these balance each other out. Death is the ultimate result of life but life also only exists because it is balanced by death. You cannot have one without the other and, should the natural order be disrupted, there are consequences. There are always consequences.

"I don't think you've ever realised that. You see the action but not the reaction. You never think that far ahead. But Morgause did. She knew."

"Knew what?" asked Morgana softly, wanting desperately to argue but understanding with sudden vivid clarity that her role in the story now was to listen.

"She knew that using the staff to bring the dead to life would upset the balance. But they would only walk the Earth for a few hours. Whether I stopped you or you won, the dead would be returned. The imbalance would be small. But it would be there, at least for a while. Any other strong magic near that point, near Camelot..."

Morgana cast her eyes down. "That's why she went to the Isle of the Blessed. When the winter turned bitter she realised that she couldn't use her magic, serious magic, without making the imbalance worse. And who knew what the consequences would be."

Merlin walked to the window and swung his hand wide to gesture at the snowscape below her chambers. It was clear now what the consequences were.

The stood like that for a moment then he unexpectedly turned and gave her a small wry smile.

"You disrupted the world, Morgana, but the fault doesn't lie with just you. We would have survived this harsh season but someone used powerful magic within Camelot to bring this on. I think it was Cenred's man. I think he was actually a sorcerer sent by Cenred. I think he called upon the elements to make this so severe and debilitating a winter that Cenred could conquer us easily in the spring."

"He couldn't have known?" Morgana protested. "It's suicide."

"I don't know whether he realised or not. But the spell did its job nonetheless. It did its job far too well."

Morgana nodded, absorbing the information and determined to think despite the dire situation they were in.

"You got all this from a book?" she asked him, unexpectedly. Suspiciously. They'd spent hours in the library initially. He'd been gone only an hour or so.

He nodded, somewhat evasively she thought.

"Well, did this book have a solution?"

"Yes, it did," he answered, "We have to restore the balance."

"The balance?"

"The balance between life and death, the flow that keeps the world functioning as it should be. Once that happens, this magic will recede and winter will just be... winter. The spell is simple: Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes, féhan ásegendnes, Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes."

"Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes,

féhan ásegendnes,

Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes."

Morgana repeated the spell with Merlin correcting her pronunciation until she thought she'd gotten it right.

"Here," he said, as they faced the windows looking out into the cold death of night, "hold my hand. You will need my strength."

She looked at his long tapered fingers that would be so elegant if it wasn't for the scrapes, cuts and calluses and laughed suddenly. A deep resounding laugh in the gloom.

He gave a small giggle and a smile in response though he obviously had no idea what she was laughing at.

"I was just thinking," she admitted, "that when the end finally came I certainly never expected to be holding hands with you."

She slipped her hands into his, noting with surprise how thin they were. Almost like a skeleton.

"Merlin, since we are possibly going to die right now, I have to confess. My magic... it's still weak. It's why I use dolls and poultices and things. I've only just begun to..."

"Morgana," he interrupted her, "you can do this. You can do this because you have to do this and you would be amazed at what you can achieve when you must. Now, just remember the words. Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes, féhan ásegendnes, Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes."

"Gerétan helerung... Merlin!" She wrenched her hand from his grasp and turned to him angrily. "Féhan ásegendnes. Féhan ásegendnes. It was in a spell Morgause taught me once. It means 'take this sacrifice'. My God, you were trying to trick me. I should have known. Merlin saves Camelot and Morgana dies. I can even see you now, shedding false tears at my funeral. I can't believe I actually trusted you to..."

"Morgana!" he yelled at her and his tone stopped her in an instance. He visibly calmed himself then continued, "I didn't tell you what the spell meant because I knew you wouldn't trust me. But it will not work unless there is a death to balance the deaths that we will prevent. You are the one saying the spell. You are the giver of the sacrifice, not the sacrifice itself. Now, as I said, you need to take my hand and say the spell. It cannot be done alone."

Nothing can be done alone, the strange woman's voice chimed in her head.

"I'm sorry that last time I didn't find another way. Poisoning you was wrong and I...I have been a coward in every way possible. I even saved your life last week because I was too weak to bear everybody's grief. But now is my time. I will not be a coward anymore. Take. My. Hand."

"Saved my..." She thought back to when she fell down the stairs and everyone telling her what a miracle it was that she survived.

"You used magic to save me," she asked him, trying to make it sound like an accusation but failing. The shock was too much.

"Yes," he said bluntly, "it was the only way. And this is the only way now. Take my damn hand!"

"No," she argued, "no. It can't be the only way. She said that you would show me the way, not that you would die. In the dream, you lived. In the dream... in the dream, I died. You say the spell. If you have cast a spell before then you can do it again. You must say the spell and I must be the sacrifice. Trust me, Merlin," she said with a small laugh, " it's a role I am used to playing."

"Don't be a martyr, Morgana," he argued angrily, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh, and it suits the coward?"

"I never used to be a coward. I just... I lost my way somehow. Let me regain some self-respect. Please. It's my turn."

"No, there has to be another way. The woman in my dream..."

She stepped forward, closed her eyes and raised her hands to the roof as if a supplicant on a midnight field in summer.

"Please, help us. Whoever you are. You've led me this far but if we do this someone will die and I... I don't want this. Not this time."

A bright light coalesced in front of Morgana and a woman walked out of it; glowing slightly with a warm light and a smile on her face. Brown hair tumbled to her shoulders and she wore the simple woollen dress of a peasant.

"You found me," she said simply.

"Help us," Morgana begged her. Merlin stood behind her simply looking stunned.

The woman smiled again.

"My name is Elaine. I am a sorcerer from the Isle of the Blessed."

"Then how can you be here? Morgause..."

"Morgause is wrong. But then, she is about most things after all. Not that she doesn't lack for enthusiasm or determination. But she believes, to use an old cliché, that the ends justify the means. They do not. My coming will upset the balance further but, with the three of us together, we can restore what should be."

"Morgause," argued Morgana, "would not leave me here to die if there was a way."

"Of course not. She scried and saw that you and Merlin would work together and that he would be sacrificed to save you and the kingdom she hopes that you will one day rule. An enemy defeated and a kingdom undermined. She let it be."

Elaine looked at Merlin with a faint smile.

"He lied to you, you know."

"Who?" Morgana asked her but Merlin just looked thoughtful.

"He often does," Elaine continued. "He tells you a way but not the way. A way that suits his ends. He told you to sacrifice her. You chose to ignore him this time. Well done.

"But nonetheless, there is another spell, another way, and we three shall have enough power to make it happen. To save everybody, even those who have died unnecessarily so far. All will be well."

"How are we supposed to trust you?" Merlin protested, "You're a sorcerer, a woman from the Isle of the Blessed and you just appear offering us everything we could possibly want? How are we supposed to trust that?"

"I am from the Isle of the Blessed and it grieves me that your experiences so far would lead you to question my motives based on that alone. Perhaps I will tell you that I read this tale once and I did not like what I read. I choose to change the ending."

"That can't possibly be your reason," protested Merlin, "that's so..."

"I am immortal, Merlin. One of the Nine as Morgause is not. As she will never be. I have seen everything, everywhere at every time and I do not often intervene. I know how this was supposed to end. I choose otherwise. It is my right. But I needed to be sure that Morgana had learned that she is not as alone as she thought. I needed to see you were not still twisting in the hands of your puppet master. I needed to be sure you finally had the courage to break free."

"The spell needs a sacrifice," he argued, "the balance must be restored through a death. Of all people, I know that."

"You know very little," she stated, her soft voice taking the sting from the insult. "A few old books and his manipulative mutterings. You do not even know what you do not know. But that will change and you will learn. Now, take my hands. This will be over in only a few minutes and then the sun will shine on a brand new day."