Nineteen years after the lands of Albion were united in peace and acceptance of magic, King Arthur is called to fight across the sea. With Merlin absent and Arthur presumed dead, Morgana seizes her chance to finally reclaim the crown of Camelot.

Warning: character death.

"Ástríce!" she shouted.

When the bolt of lightning shot toward him, Merlin caught it easily. He rolled the magic in his palm and its raw power sent a tingle up his arm. Then he blasted it outward, back toward the sorceress who had conjured it. "Forbærne! Ácwele."

She threw up a shield. The ball of magic exploded in the air at her outstretched hand and sent a cascade of colourful sparkles into the air. One landed on a dry flower stalk at their feet and a curl of smoke drifted up.

"Well done," Merlin said. "How did you make the colours?"

Niniane shrugged. "I thought how pretty it would look, like flowers when the garden is in bloom." She glanced at the thin curl of smoke. The dried stalk burst into flame, then the flame lifted into the air to hang between them. Her eyes flashed gold again and the orange tongue of fire turned red, then purple, then blue, then green, then yellow. Niniane smiled.

Merlin's eyes flickered gold and the suspended flame split into six sparks, each a different colour. He held out his hand and the flickers coalesced to hover over his palm. He put his other hand on top and when he opened his cupped hands six tiny, star-shaped blossoms sat there. He offered them to Niniane who took the bouquet with a delighted smile.

"I wish I could conjure up something solid like that," she said.

"You're doing well; I barely knew a single enchantment when I was your age." He smiled at her. "Albion will be safe as long as we have you."

"You keep the kingdom safe; you don't need my help."

"I won't be here forever." Merlin looked up at the white walls topped by turrets and pointed roofs towering above the palace garden. A vast flock of crows banked in the air above them, calling loudly. Nightfall came early this time of year.

"Tell me about coming to Camelot," Niniane asked. "Tell me the story about Nimueh."

"You know that story better than I do."

The girl had a faraway look. "Imagine, facing a powerful sorceress when you have hardly any training in magic, and killing her dead."

Merlin frowned. "There's nothing admirable in killing someone."

"She would have killed you," Niniane said. "She almost killed Hunith and I would have been sad if I had never known her. I'm sorry I never knew Gaius."

A familiar ache squeezed Merlin's heart. "I wish you had been old enough to remember him."

He laid a hand on Niniane's shoulder and steered her toward the doorway which led into the castle.

She clutched the tiny bouquet as they entered the citadel. He was smiling down at her, still holding her shoulder, when Lord Lamorak and Lady Laudine met them in the corridor. Lamorak gave them a knowing smirk and Laudine gave a reproachful sniff.

Merlin saw himself and Niniane through their eyes: a grown man, dark hair thinning at his temples, his arm around a beautiful brown-haired girl holding flowers. Lady Laudine grasped her husband's arm to steer him away from Niniane and march away down the corridor.

Niniane watched their backs retreat. "You're going to be the subject of more gossip."

Merlin gave her a startled look. "You're too young to know about that kind of talk."

She giggled. "Then I shouldn't know that the king had Sir Accolon in the stocks last week for making a joke about you and Arthur."

"No, you shouldn't," Merlin said. "Does your mother know you've been listening to gossip not fit for your tender ears?"

By the wary look on her face he guessed the answer was no. He sighed inwardly. "No, I won't tell her what you overheard as long as you never repeat it."

Niniane gave him a grateful smile. "Speaking of Mother, I should get back to our chambers. She was looking tired."

Merlin felt a stab of worry. The last time Mithian had been tired so often it had taken Alice weeks to heal the strange sickness. But that had been a few years ago, and Mithian had been fine since, so it was likely just a winter cold which was draining her.

After Niniane disappeared down the corridor, Merlin turned to stare out at the garden, now a square of dried flower stalks sticking up beside stiff yellow grass. He remembered that early battle with Nimueh, her self-satisfied smirk erased when she looked up at the storm brewing above her head. It had all seemed so important then – destiny, keeping Arthur and the kingdom safe, facing one threat after another. The future of the world had rested on him. At times he had felt the weight of that destiny crushing him, but finally he had accomplished all that had been entrusted to him: Arthur was High King, magic had returned.

Now a generation had passed, people barely remembered Uther's reign of terror, and Morgana had made no further move against Arthur, apparently content as queen of Rheged. All that had been so important then, his destiny, was in the past now. Even his memories of how hard it had been were dimming. No evil High Priestesses occupied him with threats, magical or otherwise. No sorcerers schemed vengeance against Camelot. He was free. His time was spent on nothing more dangerous than an occasional mischievous sprite or a spell gone wrong.

He was standing in the hallway, staring out at the winter-dried garden, when Arthur hailed him.

"Merlin, what are you doing?"

With turning he responded, "I'm like a swan."

"Uh-huh."

"It looks like I'm not doing anything but there's a lot going on underneath."

Arthur came to stand beside him. "Right, shirking your duties as usual."

"Shouldn't you be doing kingly things instead of bothering me?"

"I spent all day yesterday settling petty disputes between petty lordlings and all morning listening to Bayard complain about every little thing currently plaguing each citizen of Mercia if that is what you mean by kingly things."

"Sounds important. Besides, I was tired of traipsing around the country saving your royal backside from the life-threatening dangers you think are fun."

"Were you really?" Arthur said. "I think you enjoyed traipsing around the countryside risking your life on a weekly basis." The king sighed and stared out at the dried grass and dead flower stalks. "Being a king used to mean leading an army."

"You can't want more war and death."

"No. My people suffered enough, but …"

Merlin looked at Arthur when his voice trailed off. "But you feel like you're no longer doing what you were born to do?"

The king nodded. "I haven't wielded a sword except in training for years. At least the knights get patrol duty, but even they grow restless. Fighting men with no one to fight. Except each other."

"On the training field or in the tavern?"

"Both," Arthur said.

"So you're down here hiding from Gwen?"

Arthur frowned. "I am not hiding from Guinevere."

"Arthur."

He jumped and turned immediately at the sound of the queen's voice, using one elbow to jab Merlin in the ribs for his snicker.

"King Alined is waiting in the throne room to speak with you," Gwen said.

"What does he want?"

"He says you spent two hours this morning with Lord Bayard and that Gwynedd is as important as Mercia and he deserves an equal amount of your time."

Arthur ground his teeth. "I spent two hours listening to Bayard's long-winded complaints about nothing. It was hardly an indication of respect, I just couldn't get a word in edgewise to tell him to leave."

The corners of Gwen's mouth twitched. "Nevertheless, Alined is expecting you."

Arthur scowled at Merlin. "This is all your fault. I never asked to be High King." With a final jab in the ribs for the smirk Merlin did not hide, Arthur kissed his wife and strode away down the corridor.

"Ungrateful prat," Merlin said.

Gwen watched Arthur go, then turned an appraising look on Merlin. "If you have any thought of inventing an excuse to drag him off to the Valley of the Fallen Kings in search of some deadly threat to the kingdom, you can forget it."

"I would never." Merlin placed one hand on his heart in a gesture of hurt.

Gwen lifted a brow. "You two are far too alike."

Merlin's mouth dropped open. "We are nothing alike."

"Except you're both happiest when you're risking your lives to fight the forces of evil."

"People think I am the force of evil."

Gwen stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm. "Merlin, that is not true."

"I see them make the sign against the devil when I walk by. Even those with magic look at me like I'm something other than human."

"You should be pleased to be recognized for all you've done. And the only ones who accuse you of evil are the ignorant and those who resent your continued refusals to serve their best interests instead of Arthur and Camelot."

Merlin grimaced at the propositions a few of Arthur's nobles had put forward over the years. "Why does Arthur put up with them?"

"You know as well as I do that he must retain the loyalty of all the landholders who have sworn fealty to him in order to command those who have sworn fealty to them and all the way down the line." Gwen's gaze went past him to the dried garden. "That's why I treat them with respect despite knowing what they think of me. They believe if God had intended me to be queen I would have been born a noble like themselves."

Merlin glanced down at the top of Gwen's head, the royal circlet pinned to her dark curls. Perhaps she had even heard the rumours about how her barrenness was God's judgement on the king for marrying beneath him.

She met his eyes. "I for one am happy that the worst threat Arthur faces is boredom. I worry what will become of me if anything happens to him."

"Arthur has made it clear he intends you to succeed him. He has always made you Regent when he's away."

Gwen sighed. "And as long as his courtiers know he is returning, they will honour that wish. But if Arthur were truly gone, well, I fear for the kingdom and myself."

Merlin squeezed her arm the way she had done for him earlier. "The people love you, Gwen. And the knights are loyal to you."

"The people, yes, and Leon and Gwaine and the other knights would never question Arthur's wishes. But the nobles – there are several who are convinced any one of them is more fit to rule than I am."

"They're wrong," Merlin said.

Gwen looked up at him and smiled. "I better get up to the throne room and rescue Arthur. By the way, Gwaine was looking for you."

"Erec skipped training again?"

"I didn't ask, but if you know where the boy is you may want to speak with him."

"I might know where to look."

Merlin found old Geoffrey dozing in his customary chair at the archive entrance, a candle guttering on the small table which held his ink well and quill. Despite his advanced age, he was a constant presence in his precious library, updating lists of records and cataloguing each document. Even the contents of the secret rooms that had been well hidden in Uther's time were now meticulously recorded. To the best of Merlin's knowledge, no one else had entered the archives in years, relying on Geoffrey's store of facts to answer any question shouted loudly enough for him to hear. If he needed to consult one of the records, the old man shuffled slowly into the archives himself, unwilling to let anyone else disturb the neat order. No one was allowed to roam about unaccompanied by the archivist.

The one exception to this rule was Erec. Geoffrey was far more tolerant of Erec's frequent presence than he ever had been of Merlin's trips into the library during his youth. Even now, the sorcerer whispered a few words to ensure the old archivist would slip deeper into his slumber before silently tiptoeing past. He went directly to the section that held the records of magical beasts.

Erec was seated cross-legged on the floor, a book of dragonlore open in his lap.

Without looking to see who had found him, he pointed excitedly at a passage on the open page. "Aithusa said –"

"You were speaking with Aithusa?"

The boy glanced up with an unrepentant grin. "You know I meet her in the clearing every new moon. Mother knows, too, by the way."

"Does she know I know?"

"Yes. Aithusa said dragons never stop growing. Did you know that?" Without waiting for an answer he continued. "How big was Kilgharrah? Was he black? Because he might be the oldest and largest dragon in any of these records." He gestured to a small stack piled neatly beside him. "This," Erec indicated a crude drawing laid on top of the pile, "was drawn to scale by someone who claims to have slain a dragon," the boy scowled, "and then took time to measure its dimensions. The wing span was exactly the length of the dragon's body from nose to tail, but there's no reason to think that's a constant ratio." Erec paused and looked up.

Merlin tried to remember what the question had been. "No, Kilgharrah was not exactly black. It was a colour like wet rock, dark on top and golden on his stomach; and he was as large as the citadel courtyard."

Erec's eyes lit with excitement. "That is huge. He must have been really old."

"A thousand years, he told me."

"His power would have been incredible." Erec dug into the pile and extracted a thick volume. "Geoffrey gave me this book. It says here the great sword was begotten in the dragon's breath and he found it 'passing good.'" The young man looked up. "Is it true the Great Dragon burnished the king's sword? Were you there? Was it passing good?"

"Yes, yes, and I suppose so," Merlin answered.

Erec sighed. "That must have been amazing to see."

Merlin remembered the sword suspended in the air, glowing with its own cold light after the heat of the dragon's fiery breath had dissipated. It had emanated power, a symbol of destiny. "Yes," he said softly. "It was passing good."

"Do you think Aithusa would burnish a sword for me?"

Merlin frowned. "I hope not."

"Why?" Erec asked.

"Because a sword like that can do much evil. Kilgharrah didn't want to do it, but the situation was desperate and I begged him. Then it went wrong. The Great Dragon was not happy with me. I hid the sword at the bottom of the Lake of Avalon where no man could wield it until I needed it to defeat Morgause's immortal army. Then I had to hide it again until finally Arthur could retrieve it."

Erec stared at him. "How come I haven't heard those stories?"

Merlin felt his cheeks grow warm. "No one else knows most of that. Just that I put the sword into the stone until Arthur needed it. Of course, Gwen recognized the sword as the finest one her father ever made, but at the time I couldn't tell her how it came to be where it was and afterwards ..." He shrugged.

"You should tell Geoffrey these things," Erec said. "He could write it all down and add it to the archives."

Knowing how fond Erec was of the crusty old man, Merlin suppressed his shudder at the idea of spending so much time in Geoffrey's disapproving company. "I don't think so."

"Well, you could tell me."

"What about sword training?"

"I'll go tomorrow, I promise. It's not like I'm that good with weapons."

Merlin crouched down beside the boy seated on the floor. "As someone who has seen more weapons training that anyone should have to endure, trust me when I say you are quite good."

Erec's pimpled face coloured slightly. "Not like the king or Gwaine, though."

"No one can fight like Gwaine, and few can wield a sword like Arthur; that doesn't mean you're not skilled. Arthur has been training you since you were barely three winters old, no one gets more of the king's personal attention, and he wouldn't do that if he thought you didn't deserve it."

Erec's gaze fell to the book in his lap and he fiddled with the pages. "Some think I'm his illegitimate son."

"Arthur couldn't be prouder of you if you were." Merlin waited, looking at the bent head, wondering what was on the boy's mind.

Erec looked up. "Why did you never acknowledge us?"

Merlin's eyes searched his son's face. He did not see any accusation there, only curiosity, and a longing to understand. "Your mother is a noblewoman, a princess. No matter what my position is now, it does not change the fact that I'm a landless peasant, a commoner. Even the queen herself, despite Arthur's ennobling her, is considered by some to be unworthy of her position because of her birth."

Erec tipped his head to the side without breaking eye contact. "You never let what people think stop you from doing anything. There's more, isn't there?"

Merlin sighed. Mithian's son had inherited her ability to see through him, apparently. "When I was your age I wished more than anything for people to know who I really was, and now that they do I wish they would see an ordinary man. I'm glad you can walk down a corridor or practice sword fighting on the training grounds or walk through the marketplace and no one looks at you with fear or awe because of your connection to me. You can attend a feast and everyone speaks to you. You can have friends, even court whoever you wish when the time comes."

The cheeks in the spotted face reddened. "The daughters of the nobles are too silly to court and most of the boys are more interested in practicing sword-fighting than learning about dragons. The last time we were on the practice field, Cei bragged that if he had been older when the dragon attacked Camelot he would have slain it single-handedly. I said he and his puny sword wouldn't have gotten anywhere near the Great Dragon, and he said he would and that I was just scared, and I said I would have walked right up to the dragon but I wouldn't kill it, and he said that proves I'm scared, and we got into a fight."

"Cei is the big boy? Hair so blond it looks white?"

Erec nodded.

"Should I ask who won the fight?"

Erec shook his head, eyes fixed on the book in his lap. "Sir Gwaine made him stop. He asked me if I was okay and then he told Cei he should be careful because you can't tell how strong someone is by looking." Erec did not raise his eyes and Merlin saw the back of his neck redden. "If it was you, you could have flattened him with less than a word."

"I could, but that wouldn't make us friends."

"Why would you want to make friends with him?"

"It's better than making enemies."

"I guess." Erec's fingers strummed the book's worn pages. "Are you embarrassed by me, that I don't have the kind of power Niniane has, that … that you have?"

"No!" Merlin was startled into saying.

Erec stopped worrying at the book and looked at him.

Merlin drew in a breath and gathered his thoughts, wondering how long the boy had harboured such doubts. He laid one hand on the young man's shoulder and looked directly into the brown eyes that so resembled his mother's. "You are intelligent and kind and honest and I'm proud of you. I was born with the power I have, to use it for a specific purpose, and there will never be another like me just as there will never be another like you."

Erec gave him a tentative smile. "Will you tell me the stories about the sword?"

"Yes." Merlin settled himself more comfortably on the floor with one arm around his son.

By the time Merlin and Erec left the archives, Geoffrey had retired. Erec went in search of food and Merlin headed for his chamber wondering if he could convince old Audrey in the kitchen to send him up something to eat. Of all the palace servants, he had thought she would most resent his occupying a position above himself, yet she seemed content to treat him like she treated any of the noble courtiers living in the palace. Then again, that might be because he no longer had any reason to ever be in her kitchen himself.

Merlin walked into his chamber and stopped to stare at the table which normally held a pile of books. Cold meats, bread, an assortment of fruits, and a flagon of wine were laid out.

"You're late," said Mithian from her seat at the table.

"Sorry. Erec and I were talking."

Mithian rolled her eyes even as the corners of her mouth twitched up. "Did the conversation involve dragons?"

"Sort of."

"Did you speak with him about skipping training?"

"What makes you think he missed training?"

Mithian waited.

"He promises to be there tomorrow." Merlin looked from Mithian to the food and back again. "I thought you were supposed to be gone hunting all afternoon?"

"I didn't feel like it."

Merlin's brow furrowed. "Niniane said you were tired. You shouldn't have waited for me, you should have gone to bed."

"That's why I'm here." Mithian stood and moved closer to wrap her arms around him. "I'm not that tired."

Three weeks later Alice patted Mithian's hand where it lay on the bedcovers and looked up at Merlin.

"Yes, it's the same kind of sickness, even though the pain is in her shoulder this time."

"There's another lump, but it's not in the same place," Mithian said.

Alice's wrinkled face frowned. "I can feel it, but it isn't a bone or a foreign object. It's a part of you that's alive and growing, just growing too much and too quickly. Sometimes these go away with a little help, but there isn't much either medicine or magic can do without causing damage to the rest of the body." Alice met Mithian's eyes. "We will do what we did a few years ago and most likely we'll send it away again."

Despite the old woman's words, Merlin was uneasy at the seriousness of her expression.

"The most important treatment being rest." Alice looked meaningfully from Merlin to Erec to Niniane to Lynette.

Mithian's eyelids were heavy and there were dark smudges under her brown eyes. She gave him a wan smile and a tiny nod to confirm that Alice had reduced the pain enough for Mithian to get a good sleep. He forced the corners of his mouth up in response, concentrating on making the smile look genuine.

"Say good night to your mother and make yourselves busy elsewhere," he told the three young people who stood huddled together at the foot of Mithian's bed.

"Night? But it's –"

Niniane elbowed Lynette in the ribs and her sister frowned in response but stopped talking.

"Good night, Mother," Erec said with a bright smile before leaving the chamber.

The girls glanced at each other and then followed his lead, giving Mithian pleasant smiles as they wished her good night. Alice did the same, leaving Merlin alone with Mithian.

He leaned down to press a kiss on her lips. "Get some rest."

"I will." She brushed his cheek with her hand.

When he closed the chamber door behind him he found all three children waiting in the corridor.

"How sick is she?" Erec asked.

"You heard Alice."

"Yes, but you …" Erec hesitated. "You have power; you can do things Alice can't."

Merlin sighed. "Erec, for all my gifts Gaius was a better healer than I was, and Alice is better than either of us. This illness wasn't caused by magic and I know less about it than she does."

Erec gave a small nod of understanding.

Merlin pulled him into a hug, then did the same to both girls before he stepped back. "Niniane, take Lynette to your rooms and get something to eat. Let's leave your mother to have a good sleep and begin to get well."

Rain pounded away the last lingering traces of snow, the days continued to lengthen, and throughout the city people were gratefully spending time out-of-doors after being caged inside through the dark, cold days of winter.

Merlin found Erec and Niniane standing in the hallway as he approached the door to Mithian's chambers.

"Gwen and Lynette are sitting with her now," Niniane said.

"How is she?" Merlin asked.

"She's sleeping. The pain got worse so I used that spell and Mother said she felt much better after and then she finally went to sleep." Niniane's glance slid to the closed door and tears she would not allow her mother to see filled her eyes.

"There must be something more you can do," Erec said, looking between Merlin and Niniane. "All those books you have, there must be a spell to cure her."

Niniane gave her brother an exasperated look. "It's not that simple."

"You think you're the expert," Erec retorted.

"Dragons have strong healing magic." Niniane faced her brother and put her hands on her hips. "There must be a way to make Aithusa help us."

"Dragons can heal wounds but they cannot cure sickness or disease, at least not human disease," Erec said.

"What good is that?"

Niniane's voice had risen and Merlin glanced at the closed chamber door. "Niniane." He took her arms and turned her to face him. "If your brother could help in any way he would, we all would." The thought that his power was useless rose up to choke him again and he pushed it away. He released one of his daughter's arms and took his son's hand. "Erec, you know we have searched through every book Gaius ever owned twice over and the archives as well," he said, though his own heart was telling him they should look again. "While your mother is resting you two should get something to eat and get some rest yourselves. It may be a long night." He squeezed Niniane's arm and Erec's hand and then released them both.

"I'm sorry," Niniane said to her brother.

"I am, too." He stretched a hand toward his sister. "Come on."

She bit down on her trembling lip before she took his hand. They both looked at Merlin and he nodded down the corridor in the direction of their rooms.

"I'll see you later," he said.

As the two of them retreated, Erec dropped his sister's hand to put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him.

Merlin eased open the chamber door. Gwen and Lynette were sitting one on each side of Mithian's bed, talking quietly together, each holding one of her hands.

Gwen looked up at his entrance. She stood and eased her hand away from the sleeping form on the bed. Wordlessly, Gwen wrapped Merlin in a hug, then turned toward the door.

"You don't have to go, Gwen."

"Mithian doesn't need a crowd of us around. Besides, there are duties for me to attend to." Gwen patted his arm before she slipped out and quietly closed the door behind her.

Merlin took the seat the queen had vacated to sit and stare at the pale face on the blankets. Wisps of dark hair had escaped the loose braid to fan out around her head and a few tendrils were stuck to her damp brow.

Merlin brushed the strands away from her forehead. Then he looked at the girl holding her mother's hand. Lynette's hair was as dark as Mithian's, but her blue eyes and features reminded him of his own mother, Hunith. "Have you been sitting here since I left?"

Lynette nodded. "Erec and Niniane were with me for a while, but when the queen came she sent the two of them out because they wouldn't sit still and they were talking too loudly."

Merlin grimaced. Both older children were impatient like he had always been. His eyes rested on Lynette as she sat calmly, watching her mother's sleeping face.

"You are much like your mother," he said.

Lynette looked up in surprise. "Niniane resembles her more than I do."

"In features, yes," Merlin said. "But Niniane is too much like me. You're lucky enough to be like your mother."

Lynette looked down and twisted a fold of her skirt with her free hand. "Because I don't have power?"

"No, because you were born to be a queen."

The girl's gaze jumped back to his face. "Mother was only a princess."

"Well, she was born to be a queen."

"Does that mean Gwen wasn't born to be a queen?"

"No." Merlin smiled slightly at the child's logic. "I don't mean your mother was meant to be Arthur's queen, only that she would have made an admirable ruler."

"Oh." Lynette tipped her head to the side. "I think she was happier living here and being with you."

He caught his breath at the child's simple statement. "I hope so."

"Father came by earlier to visit with Mother," Lynette said.

"Was she awake when he came by?"

"Yes, and he brought Eldred's best wishes. Then he asked to speak with me. He said that Lord and Lady Pellinore want me to come and stay with them after … after Mother's illness is over."

Olwyne's parents must have missed Lynette's annual Yule visit. While Erec and Niniane sometimes remained in Camelot, Lynette had spent part of each winter with them as well as every summer. Having never had a daughter, and with two of their three sons gone, they doted on the children their youngest son's wife had given them. Neither Merlin nor Mithian begrudged them time with the children.

Merlin looked into Lynette's earnest face. "Would you like to go to them or would you rather be here with your brother and sister?"

"Of course I want to be with you and Erec and Niniane, but, well, I wouldn't mind going to stay at their estate for a while. Erec and Niniane are always busy, but the Lord and Lady don't have anything important to keep them occupied and they like having me there."

The weeks of watching Mithian grow weaker were trying on all of them, and Merlin thought it would be good for Lynette to get away from the atmosphere of sadness after their mourning was done. Perhaps he would do the same for a while. "Then when the time comes we will make arrangements for you, whenever you are ready to go."

Merlin dismounted and looked at the winding paths between steep banks and moss-covered boulders. He could not see the dense forest high above him which topped the rocky inclines, although the air smelled of damp pine needles. A bird call echoed from above. He felt an unexpected wistfulness for the cursed place.

He continued on foot through the valley and came out of the narrow, rocky passage into an open area where the sun was able to reach down and warm him. A pine tree had uprooted and its dirt-coated roots stretched taller than his head. He thought he caught a flicker of movement behind the green branches flattened on the ground, but whether it was an animal or a human it remained well hidden.

The Valley of the Fallen Kings was a refuge for bandits, full of hiding places and ways to escape pursuit. Even the smoke of multiple campfires rarely reached the tops of the towering trees to give away the location of a hideout. But Merlin had discovered on his recent journeys through the area looking for the cave entrance that few outlaws dared to approach him. One group had been foolish enough to do so not long ago and Merlin had wordlessly sent their leader and his sword flying. The rest had scattered and no others had come near him since.

He set his steps in the direction he thought the cave entrance was concealed.

Alice found him in the physician's chambers, perched on the landing of the stairs up to the high bookshelves, staring out the small window at the golden afternoon sunshine.

"Is there no hope?" Merlin could feel warm tears leak from his eyes and crawl down his cheeks. "You cured her last time, and it's been years, she's been fine. I've seen you work miracles." His voice trailed away at the look of pity in Alice's lined face.

"I am sorry, Merlin. My skills are great but it's more insidious this time. In cases like this, it's as if the body attacks itself and anything I try makes it worse instead of better." She laid her wrinkled hand on his cheek and brushed away the tears with her thumb. "All I can do is ease her pain."

"Aithusa …" he began.

"You told me the dragon said there was nothing she could do."

His tears flowed faster and Alice wrapped him tightly in a hug.

"My dear boy, I'm sorry to see you endure this hurt. I know Gaius' loss pains you after all this time, and your mother's. I watched how you cared for her in those last years, how much you loved her, and you don't deserve more grief. I wish I had the words to ease your sorrow. Just know I'm here for you."

"Do you think," Merlin looked into Alice's eyes, "that destiny is taking her away because I'm not supposed to be here anymore?"

Alice held his gaze. "Why would you say that?"

Merlin hesitated and he looked away from her. "I have a feeling I shouldn't be here now; that I should have left when Arthur united the lands of Albion. I was never supposed to make a life here."

"Where should you be?"

"I've been searching in the Valley of the Fallen Kings and a fortnight ago I found it. It's been calling to me in my dreams, the Cave, the Crystals."

Alice's grey brows drew together. She wondered briefly if he had lost his reason in his grief, but his eyes were clear. "What cave?"

"The Crystal Cave, where magic began."

"The Crystal Cave? But that's a legend," she said.

He shook his head slowly. "I've been shown it once before. But I could never again find the entrance. Until now."

"Camelot is your home. We need you here."

"There was a time when that was true, but not anymore. It used to be so important: saving Arthur's life, the endless battles, the call of destiny. Now it's over, Arthur is a great king, people with magic are free, everyone knows who I am, and they look at me with fear or with awe because of it."

Alice smoothed the dark hair as if he were a child and not a grown man. "It's because of all you did that I can live here without fear. I'm grateful beyond words for that, and for all you did for Gaius. You brought such joy into his life. And to both of us by giving us the chance to spend a short time together; it was more than I hoped for. I know you feel your gifts have no more purpose to serve here, but surely –"

"It's more than that. There was a time when I was meant to be here, but that time is past. My life has always been marked out by destiny; it was destiny that brought me to Camelot when I was needed here and it was destiny that crossed my path with Arthur's. I had the power I needed when I needed it, and when I faltered the right person was beside me to help. Now destiny is calling me elsewhere."

Alice stepped back and lowered her elderly frame onto the wooden bench, tucking a stray lock of grey hair behind her ear. "Calling you where?"

"I don't know, but it involves the Crystal Cave."

"That's why you found it now and not before?"

"Yes."

"What will all of us do here without you?"

Merlin smiled even though his eyes remained bleak. "Arthur will listen to boring speeches and boss around the knights, Gwen will keep him in line, Gwaine will get drunk and Percival will bail him out of tavern brawls, Erec will watch over Aithusa, and Niniane will watch over Arthur. They don't need me."

"Lynette is only twelve years old."

"I wasn't much older when my mother sent me across two kingdoms to live with a man I had never met. Lynette has Olwyne and his family to take good care of her. She'll marry a prince and rule a kingdom."

Alice laid a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. "We'll miss you anyway."

"I'll miss you all, too, and maybe I won't be gone forever."

Something woke him. His eyes flew open but Mithian's chamber was dark. He was still sitting in the chair by her bed but his head had dropped onto his arms beside her pillow.

Her hand was trembling. Her head twisted and a slight moan escaped her.

Merlin held out his hand. "Leoht." A ball of light lifted above the bed to cast a soft blue illumination on Mithian's face.

He put his hand on her brow and pulled back the damp locks from her face. Her eyes opened and fastened on his. Her hand tried to grasp his but her grip was too weak so he entwined his fingers with hers.

"Merlin." Her voice was weak and ended in a cough.

"Don't speak, save your strength."

The corners of her lips twitched. "Wherever you're going, take care of yourself."

He opened his mouth to protest that he was not going anywhere and then smiled instead. "I always take care of myself."

A laugh tried to escape her but it turned into a fit of coughing. She closed her eyes and caught her breath. He reached to smooth her hair back again but his hand was trembling and he clenched his fist tightly so she would not see.

The door to the antechamber swung open and Niniane stood on the threshold, a pale blue ball of light on her outstretched palm, Erec and Lynette behind her. Merlin motioned them forward.

Mithian's breathing evened out and she opened her eyes again as the three children approached her bedside to crowd around the opposite side from Merlin. Her head turned toward them. Lynette reached for her mother's hand and patted it gently.

"I am proud of all of you." Her voice was weaker; she barely had the breath to cough. "Love each other."

A shudder went through her and her fingers tightened on Merlin's before they went limp.

Sobs tore from Niniane as she dropped to her knees beside the bed; tears filled Erec's eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Lynette, between them, let go of her mother's lifeless hand to clasp her sister's shoulder and her brother's arm, then she bowed her head and allowed her own tears to fall.

Merlin's head dropped back onto his arms, weeping, Mithian's hand still clutched in his.

Niniane reined in her horse and checked the ground carefully. He had definitely gone into the Valley of the Fallen Kings. She dismounted and made her way into the winding rocky gorges, over fallen tree trunks, watching her step on the uneven ground where small stones shifted under her feet. The moss-covered rock walls were slippery to the touch and tree trunks which had fallen across the towering banks blocked the little sunlight that penetrated the dense forest above. Further ahead the passage widened and the air warmed. A section of the forest floor had been lifted into the air along with the roots of a fallen pine tree.

A bird took to the air, screeching loudly, and suddenly Niniane found herself surrounded by a half dozen rough-looking men brandishing a variety of weapons. She glanced down and realized that in her haste she had thrown her fur-trimmed silk cloak over her simple riding clothes instead of wearing something that made her less of a target for thieves scenting a rich ransom. With a sigh, she stood immobile and waited for the leader to make himself known.

A man with black eyes set close together and dirty, unkempt hair and beard strode forward, leering at her. His blade was held loosely in his fist. His gaze ran down her and slowly up again and Niniane repressed a shudder.

"You'll bring a fair price, I think," he said. He slid the sword into the rope belted around his waist and moved closer.

"If you value your life, you won't take another step."

His eyes widened in surprise at her words, then he let out a deep chuckle. He glanced around at the circle of men who likewise guffawed at the young, unarmed girl speaking to them in such an arrogant tone. Only one of them stepped back from her, his brow furrowed.

The leader grinned wider. "No need to be scared. We'll take good care of a pretty thing like you until someone who cares sends the right amount of coin."

Niniane's eyes flashed gold and the leader grunted as he found himself thrown backward through the air several paces, his neck cracking against a fallen tree trunk when he landed. Four of the other men rushed toward her but she spread her hands and all four were tossed aside. From the corner of her eye she saw the last man turn and run, leaving his fellows where they lay.

Then she closed her eyes and tried to sense where the place Merlin called the Crystal Cave was. Frustrated, she turned her attention back to the soft forest floor, glad her mother had taught her how to follow a trail, and ruled out the tracks of the bandits. One other person had passed here recently, and she set off in the same direction.

Niniane found herself on a remarkably straight track which cut through tall boulders. Abruptly her steps slowed and she clapped her hands over her ears. She cringed even though the sounds around her were only the usual forest life and a breeze rustling the topmost tree branches. She realized the screeching she heard was inside her head and looked around in alarm, then she looked up. What had seemed to be two tall trees on either side of the path were two enormous wooden statues in the shape of crowned figures facing each other.

Niniane stepped back, fighting an urge to turn and run, even though the trail continued on between the figures further into the forest. She was certain the way to the Crystal Cave lay ahead, so Merlin must have passed this way despite the air of doom about the place. Careful not to touch either of the statues, she pressed forward.

The screeching faded but did not disappear entirely and she saw several more carvings in the shape of faces half buried by leaves and vines crowding the trees. Then the trail itself turned into a series of man-made steps leading down into a small gulley.

Niniane kept going until she reached a tiny pond, surprised to find a man standing at the far side of the water, watching her. He was thin, with white hair and beard cropped short. His clothes were odd-looking: fashioned in a style that would have seemed ancient in Roman times but in remarkably good repair as if they were newly made.

"Hello again," he said.

Niniane wondered if he was senile, or if he thought she was someone else. "We've never met."

"We haven't yet but we will have, and not too long from now if my memory serves me correctly. I must say you've hardly grown any younger."

She was glad of the space between them because she had no way of knowing if his madness made him dangerous. Yet he may be able to help her. "Have you seen someone else come this way recently? A man?"

"Ah, you are looking for Emrys, which would explain why you are here ahead of our appointed meeting time."

That he knew Merlin's Druid name meant the man must be a sorcerer or a Druid himself, but he had likely been alone for a long time to be so muddled. "Yes, I'm looking for Emrys. Do you know where he is now?"

"He entered the Crystal Cave."

"The Crystal Cave, that's what I have come to find." Niniane's excitement overrode her caution and she took a step closer to the strange man.

Taliesin shook his head. "It is not yet time for me to show you the Crystals."

She wondered if it would be better to tell him they had no future appointment or to try to convince him that it was, in fact, that time.

A tiny smile played across the lined face. "I am sorry, my dear, but you'll have to be patient. The future is hidden from all but a very few, yet you will have your chance. You will see the Crystals when you are meant to see them and Emrys will return when he is meant to return. All in good time."

Niniane opened her mouth to argue with the senile old sorcerer but a brilliant flash behind him forced her to raise her hand to shield her eyes. When she looked again, no one was there. She glanced around, listening carefully, but there was no sound of human footfalls. Thankful that he was gone since he was not willing to help her, Niniane stepped around the pond to where the old man had stood only to find that the path ended in a solid wall of stone.