Chapter 8 - Zombie Plague
July
The early spring bloomed into a hot summer, and Merlin baited a breeze while hanging half out of Gaius' window.
Servants bustled about the courtyard, though he could not hear them over the buzz. The magical storm beyond the Veil droned in the back of his mind, but he'd gotten good at ignoring it.
"Merlin, stop lollygagging and help me." Gaius sat at his desk, many partially completed potions arrayed before him while he ground rosemary into a powder. Magical acceptance grew more every week, and Gaius would need to pick up a few more apprentices to keep up with demand for his magical healing draughts.
Merlin finished rolling his sleeves above his elbows, sending a quick spell to grind the rosemary for Gaius. "Have you found a different way to counteract the fever?"
Gaius began talking through a few different ideas he had, and Merlin turned back to their single patient of the last week. He was middle-aged and had been found muttering near the well, sweating with an intense fever.
Every healing spell Merlin had tried had failed, the man's fever only worsening. So instead, Merlin grabbed the now nearly-dry rag from the man's head, resoaked and froze it with a quick spell. It seemed to steam as he lay it back across the man's face.
They'd gone over the man's clothing, looking for the smallest charm that could be reversing his magic's effects, but found nothing. It was either a disease resistant to magic– Gaius' specialty– or an incredibly complex spell Merlin hadn't yet dared peek through the Veil to see.
Weeks had passed without him needing to seek the power beyond the Veil, and he'd hoped never to need it again.
The sheer confusion he'd felt while pummeled by raw emotion and overlapping voices had nearly shredded his sanity. He could have lost himself there.
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and he shivered.
He'd have to look, today probably. The man's skin practically burned to touch; he wouldn't survive much longer.
"I think the best bet is to try a double dose of feverfew mixed with this lily of night," Gaius continued, tapping a beaker. "Fetch a few bundles from the market, if you can. And more millisnap." He gestured at a list by the door. "Everything is there."
Merlin nodded, quickly using the paper list to fan stagnant air across his neck. As he swung open the front door an elderly woman nearly knocked him over as she shouldered herself into the room.
"Good, you're here," the woman said, "My bags are just at the bottom of the stairs."
Her bags?
He turned for the back of her head, trying to pinpoint this short woman with the greying braid swung over her shoulder.
Gaius turned in confusion, then gaped. "Alice!"
"Alice?" Merlin repeated, stepping quickly to get a better look at her face. It was her! Gaius' former betrothed, who Merlin had unfortunately gotten thrown in jail and nearly killed. "I thought you were staying in Annis' lands?"
"Only because I refused to hide my magic. And here we are, months after the ban's release, and you," she swung a finger at Gaius, "didn't even send me one note! Was all that about still loving me just nonsense?" She sniffed, then her expression twisted and she sniffed again. "Your porridge is burning. Your memory is going, is that it?"
She bustled Merlin backwards, and he stood in the hallway outside the chambers before he'd quite realized what she'd done.
"Alice, our porridge is long over, and of course I would have sent you a letter if I'd only known where you were!"
Gaius closed the door in Merlin's face, and Merlin blinked at the blank wood.
Alice had come to live with them?
Or, no… she'd come to live with Gaius. And Merlin was going to have to sleep on the floor again and listen to them flirt.
Oh no… no, no, no.
Merlin had delivered the bags outside the physician chamber's doors, too worried what he might witness if he dared open them. Then he'd loped around Camelot looking for Arthur or Leon. One of them had to have a spare room.
He found them in the market. Another busy day had people from all over the kingdom picking at the wares from both the magic and non-magic stalls, and Merlin approached them as Arthur pouted over a series of guard helmets.
"Merlin, just the man I needed to see," Arthur said, "Test these."
Elyan chuckled from far behind the stall, where he spoke with a Druid blacksmith. The Druid's young apprentice grinned up at Arthur, scraping one helmet towards him.
Arthur plucked it up, then thrust it towards Leon. Stoic as ever, Leon plopped it on his head. They then both turned to blink at Merlin.
Merlin blinked back, then shrugged. He held up a hand and a small gust of wind shoved Leon backwards, though not hard enough to knock him off balance.
Arthur glared. "It's a helmet that prevents sleep spells, Merlin."
Oh. Well how was he supposed to guess that? "Do they have one to make you smarter?"
"I already looked on your behalf, Merlin. Sadly your diminished brainpower will need to suffice for another day."
Merlin pointed a finger at Arthur and fired off a sleep spell. Arthur honked a snore and stumbled, shaking awake as he fell. His glare intensified.
"The helmet didn't protect you, Arthur."
"That's because I'm not wearing it."
Merlin giggled, firing another sleep spell at Leon. The man didn't even blink, "Seems like it works."
Arthur grumbled for Leon to handle the order– this blacksmith was about to make a pretty heap of coins re-outfitting Camelot's army– and then turned to pull Merlin to the side. "Well?"
"Well, what?" Merlin asked.
"Did you search me out to stare at my face, or did you have something to say?"
Merlin grinned stupidly. There was a lot he wanted to say to Arthur– how he hadn't made any headway finding the sorcerer working with the Sarrum, how magic's drone made it harder to hear people calling him from far away, and how he felt cowardly watching a man die in Gaius' chambers while being unable to help him. He went with the easy news first, though. "I need two favors."
"And I need a pork roast," Arthur grumbled. "What are these favors?"
"I need a pardon, and a new bed."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Did you set your room on fire again?"
Merlin balked, "No!" He'd learned his lesson– no experimenting in small spaces. "Do you remember a witch named Alice? She visited a few years back, poisoned your father?"
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Council is going to love this one."
"True, sorry. But the chances she's possessed by a manticore again have got to be, like, really small."
Arthur sighed, "I'll take care of it. And why do you need a new bed?"
"I really want no further knowledge on what Gaius kissing someone looks like."
"Fair," Arthur grimaced. Then he frowned, "You're certain you didn't set your room on fire?"
Merlin followed Arthur's gaze to a billowing cloud of smoke rising from the castle's courtyard. Some of the market goers slowed and pointed, and Arthur barked to Leon that he was going to check it out, then took off.
Merlin jogged behind, and the closer they grew to the castle the more murmurs became the beat of boots or yelps of fear. Guards ran past with buckets filled with water or dirt, and the acrid smell of smoke only grew stronger.
He expected to see a hay cart, or dropped torch– at worst flames licking up the castle walls and weakening mortar. But as Merlin's feet took him around the last bend, they sputtered and stopped.
A man burned.
Flames licked off the body in red hot tongues. Char blew with a breeze that smelled of bubbled fat and his skin popped and crackled.
"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed, "Move it away from the walls!"
His spell looped out in what he imagined were coils of rope, and when they'd pulled taut he yanked. The charred remains skittered over the stones, leaving chunks of burning bones behind. The nearest guards dumped buckets of water or soil on those.
The smaller dangers contained, Merlin joined Arthur as he broached the space near that body. Heat beat at them worse than any bonfire, and the air wavered with it.
Gaius and Alice came from the far tower, and seeing them, Gaius came over with eyes wide and hand over his heart. The tips of his sleeves had singed and his face had paled.
"Did you see what happened?" Arthur asked.
Alice stepped forward. "I thought I'd try a potion, they are my specialty, but the moment it touched his lips he burst into flames!"
"The patient with the fever?" Merlin could hardly believe it. The man had caught fire? What had been in Alice's potion– was this a counterspell gone wrong? Guilt swept him. Had this sickness been a spell? Had he condemned this man because he'd delayed using the Veil to see magic?
"Gaius and I had to use a combined spell to get him out of the window, otherwise the entire chambers would have lit."
A guard tossed a bucket of dirt towards the body, but it melted as it fell towards the heat. The dark soil dripped like globs when it struck. This had to go beyond a normal spell– had to be dark magic.
"Merlin, could you try to put that body out?"
Yes, he should try. He started with a jet of water, the type of spell he used to fill tubs and buckets. Most of that hissed into steam.
For his second try he braced his feet, then put out both palms and heaved. The summoning felt a little like teleportation, and he opened a channel large enough to engulf a man.
Steam surrounded them in sudden fog, and the ground turned to slush beneath him. Despite the intense heat, the hairs on the back of his neck rose and the feeling of insects crawling over his skin had him itching to shiver and wipe at his arms.
He felt a small weight on his boot and kicked, and what he thought was a dark glob of dirt sailed into the dissipating steam. He did shiver then, telling himself to get a grip.
In the end, only wax and bones remained. And even still, smoke rose from the body's mouth.
Arthur's gaze caught his, and for a moment Merlin saw his confusion and worry. Then Arthur turned to the guards.
"Someone clean this up the best you can, then call a meeting at the Round Table. Someone fetch Geoffrey the librarian, our current Druid emissary, and Leon. You three," he gestured to Alice, Gaius, and Merlin. "Come with me."
The Druids had never heard of a fever combusting a man, and Geoffrey planned on searching the archives further. Of the single remaining spellbook between them all, nothing of this sort existed.
Arthur ordered the well's waters tested and the well boarded up in the meantime, and Merlin spent the first half of the night laying uncomfortably in a large guest room bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what he'd missed.
He spent the second half of the night pacing the hallways, then collapsing for a few hours of rest in a sheetless spare cot stuffed into a corner of the servant's quarters.
The next morning, the dead man's wife came to Gaius to complain of a fever.
By that evening, she was too hot to touch.
One week later Merlin sat cross-legged on the floor of the Physician's Chambers, surrounded by six tubs of chilled water each holding a new patient.
He'd looked through the Veil for each one, each day, desperately hoping to see something he could counteract. Instead he'd fought nausea and found nothing. Worse, each peek drew the droning closer, step by small step.
A patient moaned, even breath picking up into pants.
Merlin stood, lifting the large sleeping draught with him. He covered a hand in ice and used it to hold back the patient's head.
She was a serving woman from an inn, still young and pretty. Her face had flushed a deep red and her dark eyes roved in mad fever. She'd first come to them complaining of a terrible headache and taken a potion for migraines back with her. The next day she'd come back to them with a faint fever.
He dribbled the sleeping draught into her mouth, waiting for her to calm.
This woman they'd seen the earliest into the sickness. What could headaches tell them?
The chamber doors scraped, and Gaius and Alice entered alone.
"That the body could still generate heat after death is inconceivable," Alice was saying.
Merlin grimaced, thinking of the dead man's wife, now dead herself. She'd lit this morning, but the water in her tub had kept the fire from growing out of control. Or, so he thought.
"She must have gained in temperature steadily," Gaius said. "The guards couldn't keep hold of her by the bottom of the stair, and she began smoking from her nostrils soon after."
"Could it be a disease of the brain? A headache, and smoke from the nostrils?" Alice and Gaius went back and forth as Arthur moved into the door behind them.
"The nostrils connect more closely to the lungs, could it stem from there?"
"Goddess willing we will discover the answer before someone else dies, but if they do, perhaps I take a few minutes to cut open the chest and find out."
"I still don't know what we could possibly see. It has to be magic."
Arthur beckoned for Merlin, and Merlin gave a quick nod before catching Gaius' eye and signaling he'd be leaving. With a final flick of his fingers, Merlin froze blocks of ice into the remaining tubs, hoping to stave off the inevitable for the rest of these poor people.
They closed the chamber doors behind them, and Merlin rubbed a hand over his scratchy eyes. He'd hardly slept, again.
"Merlin, any clue how the fever is spreading?"
"It can't be touch, we've all been too near the bodies. I doubt it's breath since we've spoken to a few. And I don't think it's the well water, but I can't be sure. Two of the patients said they didn't generally use that well, and didn't remember using it recently, but they could be wrong."
"It's at least helpful to know what is safe to do. It'll prevent fear from spreading."
Arthur handed him a bag that clinked, and as they made their way to the bottom of the tower Merlin used magic to pull each item from that bag. Many thin strips of metal hovered before him, created by Elyan and the other blacksmiths. Merlin's job was to make each uniform. He used blades of magic to thin the strips into uniform thicknesses and lengths, and when each matched Elyan's template he dropped them back into the sack.
Testing everyone for fever was likely to cause more fear, not less. Was there anything else he could offer?
"Gaius is more familiar with plagues," Merlin continued, "and he said we should look for a connection with saliva or blood. He says if we find anyone with a fever we need to find out where they've been and who they've talked to. Any specifics we can get."
Arthur sighed, "Plagues. Fortunately, I did get lessons on this."
In the castle's courtyard Leon had sorted knights and squires into small groups and had just completed street assignments. Elyan handed out a sheet of paper with a stencil.
"On that paper," Elyan explained, "is a measure of how these metal strips will curl from the warmth of a person in good health. Each strip is made of two metals, with one heating faster than the other. A person with a fever will curl that metal greater than the stencil."
A squire handed each group a timing device– a vial filled with sand.
"The strip must stay in the person's mouth until the sand has moved from one end of the vial to the other. Any questions?"
A squire piped up, "Should we test ourselves first?"
Elyan looked to Leon who looked to Arthur. Arthur said, "Merlin, you have spent the most time watching this disease develop. What is the likelihood it has already spread to the castle?"
They didn't know how the disease spread, he didn't know why he and Gaius and Alice hadn't caught it yet, or if the fever took weeks to develop symptoms. "It's unlikely to have spread to this group, but for safety we should check everyone."
As the soldiers spread out to follow orders, Arthur moved off to Leon, and Merlin heard enough to know Arthur was closing off travel to and from Camelot. It made sense, and Merlin was suddenly relieved he hadn't traveled to Kilgharrah, the Isle, or Iseldir's camp in these last few days. He could have spread this to them.
Arthur returned with a handful of squires, all tested and healthy. "Let's clear the castle first. We'll start with the kitchen."
The food from the kitchens went everywhere in the castle, and a source there would be the worst case scenario. It was smart of Arthur to think of it, and not for the first time Merlin felt relieved that he could give Arthur all the facts. Arthur usually made the right decisions, something Merlin had often failed at.
The squires ran ahead of Arthur, opening doors for them as they headed to the kitchen.
"Are you sure it's magic? Could it be something else, the grain, the water?" Arthur said.
With how hot people got, his gut told him it had to be magic. "I'm not sure, and we'll have to find a way to test those sources, but what's killing these people seems too extreme to be anything but magic."
They entered the kitchens, and the squires worked towards lining up the kitchen staff, explaining the procedure. No one stepped forward admitting to feeling ill.
Arthur spoke low, out of earshot of the squires, "Could it be Alice?" At some expression on Merlin's face Arthur continued, "I believe that she was possessed by the manticore last time, but could she be possessed again? It's too coincidental that she arrived and this plague began."
All she'd done was try to help, and Gaius would never suspect her. Merlin hadn't noticed her sneaking off, but if she was possessed…. "It doesn't seem possible. I'm downstairs all night refreezing that water and I haven't noticed her sneak off. Well I suppose it's possible but… I just don't want to believe it. She's trying so hard to help, and Gaius is so happy she's here…." And I nearly got her killed last time because I jumped to conclusions.
Arthur studied Merlin long enough for three of the kitchen staff to pass the test. Merlin went over what he had just said. Had he been babbling again?
Finally, Arthur murmured, "Then we'll go forward assuming that it's a coincidence."
"Sire," a squire said, voice full of dread.
The man turned holding one of the temperature gauges, curled just a few ticks above normal, and Merlin's heart sunk. At the squire's shoulder was a boy, just a child, who immediately clutched a serving woman's skirts.
The woman looked frightened, worse than the boy. "He's just a child, they run hot with all the skittering about they do."
"That is very true," Arthur said quickly, "why don't we give this young man a cold glass of milk? Let him sit down while we finish this group? We'll test him again at the end of this routine check, and I'm sure he'll be well."
Arthur's gaze caught Merlin's before nodding confidently, and Merlin tried for a smile in return.
The squires assured others that Merlin and the castle's physician's were making great headway on the cause of the disease, that very few had come down with it so far, and that surely all would be well in a few days. These tests were just a precaution.
Merlin's heart only sank lower.
The boy did have a fever.
And when they'd finished testing all of the castle staff, seven others joined the growing circle of victims.
Gwaine dropped the pails of ice he'd carried from the ice house, massaging his fingers.
Multiple weeks past the first inklings of this plague, and a disastrous amount of people had gone down with fever. Tubs of ice crowded the courtyard of the castle, requisitioned from every available villager, and they'd very soon not be enough to help the tide of plague victims.
Thank luck itself he hadn't lost a close friend yet.
The summer sun beat down on his shoulders, and Gwaine grabbed his ice cubes again before that sun could melt them. Weaving through the maze of tubs and helpers, he tried not to focus too closely at the faces of those slowly dying.
Druids that had become trapped in the city after Arthur closed the gates now helped Merlin to create ice, but the pails Gwaine carried were from no magic user. A dying noble had demanded no magical aid, and she'd soon become a test due to it. Would a total separation from magic cause her to live, or at least live longer?
Wasn't the tub usually right here?
Gwaine looked up at the turrets and the facades of the castle around him. He was in the right spot. She had to be around here somewhere.
He saw instead Merlin, and if he'd known Merlin to pray to spirits, it'd have explained the sad, still posture: arms folded, head tilted downward, eyes closed. Gwaine left the buckets where he stood, already anticipating what Merlin had to say.
"She died. Ten days after the fever came, like all the rest."
Nothing was working. Merlin was practically a force of nature, but he was as lost on this as the rest of them. "Merlin, you have to start considering Alice the cause."
"I've considered it," he said, voice dull.
Many paces off, Gwaine focused on Alice amidst the crowd of tubs. A kerchief kept her hair back, and she tipped a sleeping potion into a villager's mouth. She looked as harried as the rest of them, but if the manticore story was true, someone could be possessed and have no knowledge of it.
"How about me and the knights set up a watch?" Gwaine whispered. "If she's doing anything in the dead of night, we'll see it."
Merlin stared listlessly at another body. With a finger he pushed the head underwater. They'd learned the hard way, that left above, the head would catch while the body decayed. It made for a truly unfortunate sight.
"You're right, Gwaine. We have to be sure."
Gwaine nodded, putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder, hoping it lent some comfort. "I'll speak with Arthur."
While Arthur had wondered about the coincidence of Alice, he had made concerted effort to not overtly suspect or act against her.
For one, Guinevere had made a good point. He should not accuse anyone, especially a magic-user, without proof. Especially since the aftershocks of the ban's release still rocked the kingdom, and likely would for years.
For two, though, he had condemned Merlin for a lack of trust. If Arthur could not show some semblance of trust in return, then all they'd worked to rebuild these past months would go for naught.
And so he'd waited for this suspicion from Merlin, today come via Gwaine.
Elyan and Percival handled the top of the tower and direct spying on Alice and Gaius. Leon watched the stairwell, and Arthur leaned against the tower wall, listening to the voices in the window high above.
Night came this way, first in slow moving shadows, then in a crescent moon casting a dim glow to Camelot's white stones.
Some magical motes of light bobbed throughout the courtyard, but most Druids worked in darkness. Boots shuffled as they checked on citizens, and the faint pops of ice forming and melting crackled through the courtyard. Somewhere in these moans of the dying, Merlin wandered.
Is this my fault? Did I wait too long to release the ban, and another curse has befallen Camelot– worse than Gedref's maze and the unicorn's death? What must I do to fix it?
Voices drifted down from the tower. Gaius had woken again. It was unlikely Alice would do something now, if she truly was the cause of any of this.
"It's definitely not saliva or the water supply," Alice said, voice tinny from the distance. "It was a good thought though. I had hope in those ones."
"It's what Nimueh did, poison," Gaius replied. "This disease… it doesn't spread through touch, saliva, breath, blood, decaying matter, water… what are we missing?"
"I think it's a waste to determine how it's spreading. We should focus on the source."
A thud from far away. Arthur tuned the voices out and focused on the darkened courtyard. Nothing moved. Where was Merlin?
Someone moaned. It came loud, pitiful, and long from outside the castle grounds.
Arthur moved from the wall, catching Leon's silhouette in the darkness. Arthur signaled he'd go to check out the sound, and a silent salute from Leon proved he'd understood.
Heavy as he was with chainmail, scabbard, and sword, quiet movement meant deliberate, slow motions.
He edged around tubs, close enough now to hear some mutter insanities in their delirium. The grunts and soft moans of someone in the darkness drew closer.
He heard a dragging, and pictured a giant snake slithering along his grey cobblestones, biting his people and cursing them.
But no, he made out the shadow of a human, thin and short. The dragging was their leg. He listened again, trying for sounds or movements beyond the dragging– no signs of pursuers.
Arthur braced himself, letting the shadow edge closer. Was this another victim, the sorcerer behind this, or something worse?
It was worse– the shadow was a child. Bluestreak.
The youth was wheezing, wincing heavily, and braced against a stone wall. "Help me," he whispered.
Arthur's energy drained, swiftly beaten down. Repeated failure, another sleepless night, feeling helpless– he couldn't pinpoint the reason, but it was with leaden arms and a deep breath that he braced himself to be useful.
He hooked an arm around the young boy's waist, he was too warm, and lifted him from the ground. The boy winced, but color began to return to his face. "I fell from a roof. I got dizzy."
After this, Arthur would check on Bluestreak's two friends. "You should have magically called for Merlin instead of limping."
"He was too far."
"Try again, he's near, in the plaza." Arthur pointed, and Bluestreak closed his eyes, then went limp. Arthur took all of the kid's weight as he walked them forward. Long moments passed until Bluestreak groaned awake.
"I couldn't do it."
Was it possible for the kid to have gotten warmer that quickly? "Just relax. I'll carry you there."
He heard a sniffle, and it tore at him. This was half the reason he'd brought these kids back to Camelot. He'd wanted them to feel safe. He held the boy tighter, even if the warmth was uncomfortable. "You'll be okay. I've got you."
Merlin was round the other side of the turret, looking about for Arthur. Now he shows up. "Merlin!"
Merlin's head twisted, then he disappeared. In a wink he was leaning over Bluestreak's leg. "He's got the plague."
"He passed out trying to contact you with his magic."
Merlin frowned, put his hand on Bluestreak's knee and his eyes flashed gold.
"He's getting warmer, Merlin, you'll need to make him a tub."
"It didn't heal as much as it should have," Merlin murmured.
"We'll have to set the leg. Can you help me get him–"
Merlin flinched, hard, then disappeared.
Now where was he going? Arthur swiveled and spotted Merlin multiple paces off. Glowing golden eyes focused on Arthur, but nothing about them was comforting.
Merlin crouched, scuttling around Arthur in a slow circle.
"What is it?"
"I don't know. It looked like lightning but… strange." He met Arthur's gaze. "Dark magic, it's got to be."
Merlin muttered and Arthur felt a chill enter him. Bluestreak panted in his arms, and Arthur tightened his grip. Touch didn't spread the disease. They'd proved that. "Merlin," Arthur broached, "Help me with Bluestreak, then study us."
Merlin let out a growl, disappearing again.
He found him further away now, only eyes in the darkness. Arthur held back a shiver. Merlin seemed more spirit than man. "It's something you're saying," Merlin hissed. "You say it, and a bolt of lightning comes for me."
"Did it hit you?" Bolt of lightning?
Merlin shook his head. "I dodged it." His eyes trailed a line between Bluestreak and Arthur. His eyes faded back to blue and he blanched, knees weakening. Merlin caught himself on the lip of a tub.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'll be fine, Arthur, but you... you're sick."
"I don't feel warm."
"Bluestreak must have said something to you. A spell hidden in common words? It doesn't seem possible. How are we going to enforce a ban on talking? Arthur, one of those dark lightning bolts must have hit you. It slithered like a snake. It wiggled. What are we going to do? What did Bluestreak say to you when you found him? No! Don't answer that."
He was babbling. Merlin did that when he got nervous. Arthur, conversely, felt cold. "Focus, Merlin. Get Bluestreak taken care of, then fill my tub with water, leave it in my Chambers. We can't let the people know I've got it too."
Alice walked through the throne room, scroll of paper and pen tucked under her arm. Early morning sunlight shone through the stained glass, spilling rainbows at her feet.
Beautiful days for terrible news. Merlin had given them the story of last night, and plied her and Gaius for hints of any disease that grew worse when supplied with magic and passed from non-magical people on simple words. To Alice it sounded preposterous, but in many ways it felt like she had all of the clues. The answer hid beyond the tip of her tongue.
She knocked on the king's doors to announce herself, then slipped through to find the king slumped over the side of the tub, head submerged.
Her breath caught and she jumped for his shoulder, but he sat back on his heels with his own strength. With a sigh he wiped water from his eyes. He looked like a young boy, so small without his armor.
She dropped the ink bottle on his dresser and dipped, handing him the pen. "Write out everything Bluestreak said to you last night."
Arthur did, and when finished dunked his head back into the tub.
"Why your head and not the rest of you?"
When Arthur was out and dripping less, he wrote, "head feels way hotter than the rest of me. And a massive headache."
They communicated like this, back and forth. "We can get you a non-magical sleeping draught."
"No, I want to be helpful."
Good. She scraped her stool towards Arthur and his tub, and settled in. The ink she placed between them. "Start at the beginning. I want every detail and every symptom."
Hours later, Alice steepled her fingers over a dead woman. The knights had laid her out on the patient cot in Gaius' chambers. She'd died a day ago, and though some of her skin had smoked and boiled off at death, most of her remained.
The chime of Camelot's bell sounded noon. Alice pressed a finger again to the woman's cheek, and felt nothing. This was notable, because the rest of this woman was cold to the touch. The head still radiated heat.
Well she could delay no longer. This was her clue and she had to follow it.
Gaius kept his instruments in a drawer of his desk. His knives he left there too. Alice borrowed a cleaver.
The woman's neck split easily. Her first hack was muscle and skin. It took a few to get through the spine. She had trouble with a tendon, and had to grind it between the blade and the cot.
When she held the woman's head slack-jawed in one hand, she placed it in Gaius' oven. She lit the coals with a spell, then set in to wait.
At the half hour mark, smoke seeped from the mouth. At the hour, the head lit.
The hair burned first, bright like flaming arrows in the dead of night. A meaty, salty, sour-sweet smell filled the room, and the eyes burst.
The oven cracked. A spell extinguished the flames, but the skull burned on white hot, too bright to watch. She shielded her face from the oppressive heat, but felt it was too late for the fair skin of her nose and cheekbones. The burning skull had burned them as good as a sunny day.
When only ash remained, the fire tapered. The woman's skull had bleached a perfect white, and had two perfectly round eye sockets and a cave for a nose. Smoke still drifted between the teeth, and through the ears.
Arthur had complained of a headache, and she had to trust her instincts. Chickens sat on eggs to hatch them. The skull must burn for a reason.
Another chime passed as the skull cooled to a temperature she could touch. At that mark, she placed the skull on the dining table and probed her finger on various parts of the bones. Room temperature, no heat generation now. Perhaps she's been wrong about the fire, maybe that killed off the source.
The skull jittered, and she nearly fumbled it.
No, it lives, and it's awake. It shook again, and she had the presence of mind to back away, putting the woman's headless body between her and the skull.
The skull clicked a step forward, then blackness oozed from the ear. It was the length of her finger, then her hand, then her forearm. It swelled as it met the open air, as far around as a fist. It jiggled like slime and shimmered with an oily iridescence. It curled on the table, eyeless and blind, and watched her.
Alice picked up the cleaver.
Eancanah. Destroyer of magic. Beast of the black.
It leapt. Alice backhanded it with the cleaver then scrabbled around the dead woman. She reached for a spell and felt the side of her skirt go heavy.
Her heart dropped into her feet and she swiped again, but it moved too quickly, leaping up her body, slithering and twisting too fast for her to grab it, it crested her chest and she smacked the flat side of the cleaver against her face as it leapt–
It suckered to the knife and she slammed it against the table, and hacked at it again and again and again….
"Alice!" Gaius called.
She stumbled back, cleaver gripped in white knuckles and when she hit Gaius' desk, slid until she shivered on the floor.
Gaius looked flushed, like he'd run. She hadn't screamed, she'd been so terrified her voice hadn't worked. Though on second inspection, she had knocked over the cot, and the dead woman had rolled under their dining table.
Gaius hugged her. The stones wouldn't be good for his knees. He tucked her hair back, slipping it into her braided bun with kind hands.
He let her keep hold of the cleaver.
It was reason enough to love him all over again.
Merlin eyed Arthur's flushed face, desperately worried despite knowing Arthur had days yet to live. He hated waiting even a second longer to save Arthur, now that they had a plan.
The knights, Alice, and Gaius joined him, the latter two doing most of the explaining. Gwen stood to Arthur's side, squeezing his shoulders.
"There's an Eancanah in his head," Gwen repeated. "And what is that exactly?"
"A black slug that feeds on and destroys a person's magic," Merlin remembered visions of the terrible thing when they'd been set on the Druids and the Priestesses. How many had been born these past weeks, and wandered Albion now?
Arthur groaned, dunking his head back into the tub. He came out dripping and Gwen handed him a fresh icepack. He propped this in place of a crown. "This is miserable. Disgusting. In my own skull?"
"You really shouldn't be speaking, Arthur," Gwen reprimanded.
"Alice is fairly sure what words I'm not allowed to say. I'm very tired of writing everything out."
"It's been barely over a day, Arthur."
"And that was long enough."
"And what do you think of our plan to remove it, then?" Alice said.
"Yes," Gaius cleared his throat, "It should go smoothly."
"Sire," Leon said, "I maintain we should try this out on other patients first."
Arthur frowned, thinking it over. Gwen spoke for him, "While that is wise, I think I say what you already suspected– that Arthur won't let our people risk their lives before he risks his own."
"It should be very safe," Gaius repeated.
"Well Guinevere knows me well, what should I do? When do we start? I'm eager to stop feeling like a torch."
"Just sit there and try not to squirm," Gaius said. "This may sting."
Gaius moved behind Arthur, and Merlin and the knights spread out to watch. Alice joined Gaius, peering at the back of his head. With a flick of her wrist, Arthur hissed.
They moved in tandem quickly after. A small square of hair and skin folded back, then repeated sparks of magic carved four sharp lines into Arthur's skull. With a small suction rod, Gaius pulled off that square of bone.
Merlin could not see what lay within from where he stood, but he did see Alice nod. Arthur looked pale, but he still held the sides of the tub with a strong grip.
Gaius produced a small flame in his hand while Alice positioned a box near Arthur's head. Their makeshift cage– it had a lid she could snap closed.
A thin, black line wriggled into the light.
It waved lethargically over Arthur's blonde hair, and his friend slumped, eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Arthur!" Merlin gasped, and the wiggling Eancanah searching out Gaius' flame swiveled with sudden speed.
The thin tail split wide, becoming a round mouth of dark teeth dripping oily tar. A terrible sucking sound, like a wheel popping loose of mud, marked it breaking the rest of the way out of Arthur's brain before it leapt for Merlin.
He remembered dying: when the Veil had pulled him through that first time and he'd lived as Druids dying to Uther and the Sarrum's attack. Fear had laced through him like a drug, and he'd known terrible pain as magic had ripped out of his soul.
The horror froze him, he couldn't move, watching that monster from the past streak toward his face.
His own magic reacted– a bubble of time energy expanding from his chest and stretching out to fill the room. Everything froze, but Merlin's heart raced the thunder in his ears.
Then the Eancanah swelled. It's teeth began to gnaw, and it's body wriggled. It was eating his spell.
In seconds the spell had shrunk to release Gwen, Arthur, Gaius, and Alice. Eyes widening Gwen cast about for a weapon. The Eancanah grew to the size of an arm, then a leg.
The bubble shrank further, releasing the knights. Still the Eancanah struggled closer. He should run, move, do anything.
The time bubble popped and the flying Eancanah, now large and ungainly, fell to the floor. Three of Elyan's daggers and a sword pierced it before it hit the ground. It shriveled as it died, its large mass turning to black smog that dissipated into air. What remained– crumpled, dry skin– crumbled to ash soon after.
When it was certainly gone, certainly dead, Merlin let out a shaky breath. "Sorry," he whispered. He'd frozen, and they needed more from him than that.
"It's single minded," Gwaine spoke up, "focused only on what's before its nose."
"Next time we put all three of you in a full suit of armor," Leon said, meaning Merlin, Alice, and Gaius. "If it can't touch you, it can't hurt you."
Gwen had moved to Arthur's side, patting him softly on the cheek. Merlin snapped forward a healing spell to seal the piece of bone Gaius had replaced, and the peel of skin. It closed easily, with no hints that something fought against his magic.
Arthur's eyes fluttered open and he grinned at Gwen. "Fevers gone. Still got a headache worse than a Beltane hangover though."
"That should pass," Gaius said, "we'll watch for lingering illness. I expect you to lay in bed and rest, your highness."
"We should test to see if I can still spread it," Arthur said. "Maybe it left a piece inside my head."
Gaius nodded looking to Merlin, and so Merlin moved to the wall to brace himself. He edged toward the Veil, trying for just a peek through, but the storm swirled and tugged him further. It wanted him through, into the Veil, into magic itself.
He shuddered, trying to hold himself back, barely keeping an eye on Arthur.
Arthur spoke the words he'd written out for Alice, the full string of dialog he'd heard from Bluestreak and then said to Merlin. No wiggling strands of dark lightning shot from him.
Inch by inch Merlin pulled himself away until the storm of the Veil hid just out of sight again. The storm had grown closer, again, though. He could no longer hear Gwen whispering to Arthur from just across the room.
Everyone was looking at him.
Merlin stood to his full height, pushing himself mostly off the wall behind him. He could not use the Veil again, not ever. "The spell didn't spread, Arthur's safe. It worked."
Three days later all who had taken ill had been freed of the Eancanah, and riders had gone out to surrounding villages and cities in the hopes of heading off other disasters. Unfortunately, Gwen had already heard of multiple small villages completely wiped out by the spell. How many of those creatures now wandered Albion?
Twilight cast a golden glow over the street Gwen stood in, eyeing a moderate inn near the tournament grounds. The knights had gone in ahead of her, sealing doors and windows. To the side, Leon led a squadron of knights and a few volunteer Druids who interrogated every patron and staff member pulled from the inn's walls.
Everyone in Camelot with the sickness had been healed, but a chambermaid from this establishment had come to them this morning with fresh symptoms. She'd been healed in quick order, but she was proof of a source. Someone here was the cause of all of this.
Arthur and Merlin approached from behind her. "What does Leon have to say, Arthur?" She asked.
A cluster of patrons and staff stood under watch of guards, and Arthur glanced their way. "The whole first floor and cellar has been searched. If someone here is the sorcerer that caused this, they are on the second story."
"I would like to see them for myself."
"Perhaps I should go alone," Merlin said, "In case it gets out of hand."
"Don't make me break out my lecture on how I fought the Lamia, Merlin."
Merlin smiled, and Gwen realized she should question that encounter. What had he done in the shadows during that terrible night? Well, she was certain she'd fought it off with a sword to save Merlin's life, and Arthur had finished it in the back with a spear. Still, she'd have to ask Merlin later.
She shook the memory from her mind, and stepped into the empty inn. It was a fairly clean place, though smoke stained the ceilings and grease spots had worked their way into many tables. A place like this could hold easily thirty to fifty guests, and it seemed eerie to see it so empty and quiet.
The stairs were to their right. Gwen led the way on slippered feet, climbing to reveal a long hallway of doors.
An instant later, Merlin stood near the far end, frowning. Had he used one of those bubbles of time again, where he froze everyone within it?
He beckoned them silently, and under his breath whispered, "I checked every room, but met resistance at this one. Someone set a spell on this door."
Arthur held out the ring of keys supplied by the innkeeper but Merlin shook his head.
"I'll have to teleport in and unlock it from the inside, I think. I'll hurry."
In a blink Merlin disappeared, and instantly Gwen heard the heavy lock slide back. Arthur burst into the doorway.
An elder man close to his fifties lay on his back in the bed. Merlin had already moved to the man's side, staring down in shock.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"A dead man," Merlin murmured. He surged forward, hand on the man's chest, and his eyes glimmered gold. The body sagged further into the bed, a rush of air escaping it. But no, it still breathed, if slightly, and so what did Merlin mean by 'a dead man'? "I need to get Gaius."
And an instant later Gaius had appeared next to Merlin, blinking with disorientation.
"Gaius, look," Merlin said, "It's Wendol, the Druid leader. The one that died in the Purge."
"Wendol?" Gaius said, face paling.
Merlin hung back, and Gwen moved to Arthur's side. She wanted to better see this man's face. How did he live if he'd once died? Was this another form of dark magic?
"Gaius?" Wendol croaked.
Gaius folded onto the cot, pulling the man's upper body into his lap.
"I'm dying," Wendol said. "Please… help me."
Gaius' worry lines deepened, his frown pronounced. Sadness bowed him. "I cannot save you today, as I did not thirty years ago."
Wendol's breaths shallowed, he weakened quickly now, after whatever Merlin had done to him.
Gaius leaned down and whispered, "You won. Magic is free in Camelot."
"We did it?" Wendol's voice was a rasp like stone against sandpaper.
"I am teaching healing magic again. Just one young student… but there will be more. Thank you for fighting for me, for all of us. I am so sorry you will not be here to enjoy the freedom you earned."
Wendol's eyes closed, and twin tears slipped from them onto Gaius' sleeve. "We're free."
He smiled.
Then stilled. Gaius bent his head.
It seemed suddenly too private a moment and Gwen grew embarrassed for having witnessed it.
"This was a Shade," Merlin whispered. "It's a soul risen from the dead and forced to do someone else's bidding. I released his soul as I did once before… for Lancelot."
Gwen's heart clenched, it made sense, but it hurt all the same.
Gaius looked to Arthur, eyes red but tearless. "I know he did wrong. But for the sake of my own penance, may we lay him to rest in the way of the Druids?"
"He killed many people," Arthur said, "everyone will want someone to blame, a way to consider this behind us."
"It's not behind us," Merlin said, "Whoever rose this Shade is still out there."
Arthur sighed, and Gwen moved forward to look down on the, now truly dead, man. The tracks of his last tears still glimmered on his paling skin. "Let them honor him, Arthur. He isn't to blame."
Arthur rubbed at his golden hair, but agreed. "I'll explain it to Leon." He pointed at Merlin. "Take care of the body, Guinevere and I will handle things here."
She let Arthur pull her into the hallway with one last glance at Gaius' forlorn face.
When alone, Arthur wrapped fingers around her waist and pulled her close. "Are you all right?"
Death reminded her of the baby she'd lost. Every death did that these past weeks, and probably always would. Worse yet, deep inside of her something was wrong. She had yet to confirm it, had yet to tell anyone, but her soul knew Morgana's curse had likely not been temporary.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Am I okay? Yes, I hope so."
He gave her a small kiss on her temple. "As long as we have each other we can brave this new threat to Camelot."
"Yes, love." She smiled and pressed her cheek deeper into his shoulder.
He squeezed her back, then slipped ahead, clomping down the stairs and calling for his knights.
That night passed quickly as Merlin, Gaius and Alice decided how to preserve Wendol's body. By the time he went out searching for Arthur, it was dark enough that firelight was needed for the hallways, but early enough that some servants already moved within the castle. Merlin waved good morning to Ari, Gwaine's sister, and then nearly bowled over Sefa, who had just exited the Royal Chambers.
She ducked her head, clutching a bin of used dishware to her chest, nearly dropping the lot of them. She got so flustered by 'failures', he thought, she was always blushing over something whenever he talked to her.
"Sorry," he smiled, "my fault." He dodged her frozen form and then spied the room as empty. "Where's Arthur?"
"In the Solar," she stammered. "The Queen is watching over the recovering plague victims."
Gwen never failed to be the best of them. "Thanks!"
He clicked the door shut behind him and strode upwards. Arthur was as Sefa described, out on the stone balcony facing the knight training grounds. It was a warm night, and the breeze ruffled Arthur's blonde hair.
As Arthur's periphery noticed Merlin, Arthur began speaking without preamble. "We were able to keep the facts contained. The Inn's staff believe Wendol was just another victim."
"And the body is safe in the Physician's Chambers. No one saw us settle it upstairs." Merlin hesitated, then decided to just come out with it. "Morgana is the only other person I've seen raise a Shade."
"And do you think she did this?"
This? A few months ago he would have considered no other. But that brownie that had proven no dark magic in use on the Isle… and Aithusa enjoyed her life there with such joy. "It doesn't seem likely. She'd been too focused on improving the Isle. But you're right... we should be wary. Anything could have changed that."
"So you want to visit her for information. I am going with you to the Isle this time. You know that right?"
"Why do you think I came up here to tell you about it?"
Arthur sighed, patting Excalibur at his hip. "I'll be ready. You be ready too. For anything."
Trouble sung by Adam Agin
Footnotes:
(1) millisnap is a made up magical plant.
(2) Eancanah - not the first time they've shown up in this story, and it won't be the last.
(3) Help me - Wendol's last words. Wendol was in Part 1, a character Merlin witnesses Gaius kill in his vision of the past, because Wendol brought together the Druid tribes behind him to fight Uther.
(4) Merlin is able to cure the Shade as he did with Lancelot. I'll describe the specifics of how he's doing this later.
I love how freaky Eancanah are. Whatever the Sarrum is up to, it's getting worse and our characters are clearly losing. And as for Merlin, his descent worsens and its not quite clear how bad it can get.
The subtle things that don't get a lot of screen time, but that I really enjoy, are that Bluestreak is Gaius' apprentice and learning healing magic from him, that Alice and Gaius have different specialties, and that Alice and Gaius are essentially living together and continuing their relationship while Merlin is couch-surfing.
Next time: Cathbhadh. Arthur crushed the horn of Cathbhadh under his foot to destroy it, and now he has to fix it.