Chapter Eleven

Arthur wasn't quite sure what he said. That is, he wasn't quite sure what words came out of his mouth. All he knew was that they included a lot of cursing. And managed to get across the basic idea… That girl had tried to kill his father, and then she had died. Because she had magic. And she had been shot. And Merlin had come here to save her. And… and…

"And what the hell?" he finally finished.

Merlin looked slightly embarrassed. The girl looked reluctantly impressed.

Arthur had to stop and catch his breath.

There was a moment of silence.

Then the girl said, "Well, I'm obviously not dead."

Arthur shook his head. "That's not possible!" he cried, looking at a guilty Merlin and then the girl – hadn't Merlin called her Xyla? – and then back to Merlin. "I saw the body! There was no pulse."

Xyla rolled her eyes. "Magic."

Merlin glared at her in a don't-you-provoke-him way.

Arthur turned his gaze solely to Merlin. "You knew?"

The pause that followed was a little too long. Merlin opened his mouth, and Xyla knew he was about to tell the truth, so she interrupted. "No," she said. "Why would I tell the prince of Camelot's manservant that I was only faking death when I had tried to kill the king?"

Arthur didn't really know what to say to that. Of course Merlin hadn't known. That was a stupid thought. But… but then, how…? He knew that his face was comical, but the situation wasn't funny at all. Arthur and Merlin were in chains in a dungeon, captured by Morgause. For a sorceress.

"Explain," said Arthur, a little more calmly.

Merlin looked at Xyla for help. "I told you that you shouldn't have come, Arthur."

"That's not a good enough answer."

"You said you wouldn't—"

"Don't," snapped Arthur. "Don't try that. Not now. The truth."

How about half of it? was the thought running through two minds. And then Xyla and Merlin began to answer.

Merlin shrugged. "We were out hunting," he said. "That was the time right before Xyla's… um… So we were out hunting, and the monster we were tracking started chasing me…"

"I remember," said Arthur suddenly, casting his mind back. "You stabbed it with a knife, and I wondered how you got that close without getting killed."

"He didn't," said Xyla, "I…"

Arthur cut her off acidly. "Not you. I don't want to hear excuses from you. I asked Merlin."

Xyla raised an eyebrow at him in a manner that made her look extremely superior. Arthur had no reason to be embarrassed (of course not, he was just trying to be loyal to Camelot), but all the same he suddenly felt very childish. And she hadn't even said a word.

Feeling the tension, Merlin hastened to fill in her part. "Xyla was the one who killed the monster. When you caught up with me, she was hiding behind a tree."

Arthur interrupted again. "A tree? Really?"

The side of Xyla's mouth twitched into a half-smile. Arthur glared, but she refused to be abashed.

"Yes, well," said Merlin, blushing a little as he moved away from Arthur's glare and, by default, Xyla. "She saved my life, Arthur."

"You did know that she had magic!"

"Arthur, I come from Ealdor, remember? It's not illegal there. Just in Camelot." Which brought another face to Arthur's mind—a dying, pained face of a young man. Merlin's best friend.

"You should have told me," Arthur had said.

Arthur shook his head. "You should've said something."

Merlin thought about this. "Perhaps, but I didn't."

"And she nearly killed my father!" accused Arthur, looking into the sorceress's eyes.

She smiled a little. "That's true. I nearly killed you, too, actually."

Merlin gave her a look sharp enough to slice through bone.

Xyla shrugged. "But I decided not to. I had gotten to know Merlin better then… Though he didn't know me so well. I pretty much told him a pack of lies." Arthur didn't interrupt her, but sat listening with wide eyes from the other side of the dungeon. "And Merlin… trusted you. He liked you." Xyla shot the prince an up-and-down glance. It was obvious that she wasn't pleased with what she saw. "So I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted Merlin."

She sent Merlin a small smile.

And then it hit Arthur.

"Oh. My…" He looked at her again, and then Merlin. "She was the girl… I… I walked in on you kissing her!"

Xyla chuckled. "I think, technically, I was kissing him."

Merlin shrugged and offered Arthur a sheepish grin. But Arthur had moved on to the next realization.

"That means you knew she was in Camelot!"

"Yes…"

"But you say you didn't know she would try to attack my father?"

"No, I didn't know, Arthur, I swear…"

"She has magic, you idiot!" Arthur spat at him. The hatred on the word magic made Merlin shrink back, feeling like he'd been kicked.

Merlin looked at the ground, a lump forming in his throat. Magic. Arthur hated magic. Right. He cleared his throat and went on, "Most of the part after that you know… I was leaving your room late when I spotted Xyla and followed her. And then I tackled her to the ground when I saw she was going to kill the king."

"Which hurt, by the way," she said dryly.

"It hurt when your knife stabbed me," he answered. "When I went to my room, she was waiting for me. We… had rather an argument."

"Mmm," said Xyla in silent agreement. "Then I knocked him out and ran. I tried to go for the king again with my friend… My friend Kushi. But… the archers…" She stopped and put her head down.

That's right. There were two girls.

"The other girl," Arthur interrupted with a sneer. "Is she around here somewhere too?"

Xyla looked up, the anger in her eyes enough to catch a man on fire. "No," she said coldly. "Your archers killed her. I got hit in the shoulder."

Arthur refused to look sorry. It was just a sorceress. If they had caught her, she would have died anyway.

Merlin scooted closer to Xyla again, ignoring how Arthur's look was practically a royal command telling him not to, and rubbed his hand down her arm. He wanted to finish the story for her, but that wouldn't fit with their version of events.

Xyla shook her head, but put her hand in his for comfort. "I used a spell to make it look like I was dead. I healed myself—that's all I'm really good at anyway, healing spells. And then I left Camelot. I wandered for a while, drank in taverns more than was probably proper for a woman, learned more about magic, and became a rather well-known wandering healer."

Arthur looked at her. That didn't really make sense. A magic-user being a healer? That didn't seem very evil.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, pushing the other question aside. He didn't really want to ask. (He was a little afraid that the answer might be the logical one: it wasn't evil.)

"I ran into a woman named Morgana who wanted me to heal her sister, and I did. But she discovered that I knew Merlin… rather well… and… well, here I am. In a dungeon." She moved her hand to her arm where the burn had been. It had healed quickly, but was still rather sore. "Morgana…"

Arthur's face was rather white. "Wait, Morgana is here." He looked at Merlin. "Don't tell me… You knew."

Merlin tried to smile and failed.

"Merlin," said Arthur, "if we don't die in here, I swear that this time I will use that vat of hot oil." The scary thing was that he sounded like he meant it. Merlin swallowed.

Xyla decided it was time to get Arthur's eyes off of the flustered Merlin. "Morgana used me to send some… magic through. Dreams. To Merlin."

"That's why I had to come," Merlin said. "I talked to Xyla in my dreams and… well, you know the rest."

He squeezed Xyla's arm a little tighter, almost possessively. Arthur sighed, not quite as angry as he knew he should be. Something about the way Merlin held onto that girl made him feel almost… mollified.

No. No, he couldn't be. She was a sorceress. And Merlin had known. He was angry. He was.

Then the door slammed open and two guards walked in. Arthur tensed, but they completely ignored him. Both men walked over to Xyla and Merlin, who watched them warily. Merlin stood up. Xyla shrank down.

Then the guards latched onto Merlin's arm.

It was a lot harder for Arthur to be angry when Merlin was being pulled away by his arms.

"Let go!"

Any of the three prisoners could have said that. No one was really sure which one had, though. Merlin struggled wildly, trying to kick his captor, but received a blow to the stomach for his troubles. He gasped, bent nearly double. Xyla leapt lightly to her feet and launched for one of the men, but in just a second she was overpowered and pressed firmly against the wall, her face into the stone.

"Hey!" she yelped.

Arthur tried to pull on his chains, but of course it was pointless. He was shackled to the wall. There wasn't much he could do… But, oh, how he wanted to stab the man who was pulling Merlin towards the door, nearly yanking the man's arms from their sockets.

Xyla was still making her frustration known to anyone as far away as Camelot, but Merlin was quiet, silently trying to use magic to free himself.

Nothing.

Not a surge of magic, not a glimmer of gold. Not a single thing. He was helpless; his magic wasn't working.

Merlin was dragged out of the door, but before he was out of sight he turned to give Arthur a wide eyed look.

Arthur was staring back, the expression on his face making it clear that he was thinking very hard about vats of hot oil. He was still trying to yank the chains out of the wall… Or maybe break his wrists.

A minute later, Xyla was released. She collapsed into a heap on the floor, but quickly recovered and jumped back up. She stood just in time to see the door creak closed with an ominous bang behind the second guard.

The prince and the sorceress were left alone in the dungeon.

A/N: I probably won't be able to update next week, but we'll see. Thank you to IceCreamDoodle13, Laughy-Taffy the Grape, Dodo.123, Naisa, Randomanime456, and DarkAngel2112 for reviewing last chapter! Please review!