Gold

Chapter Ten

"Merlin," a voice whispered to him. "Merlin, wake up."

"Mmmmmmnrrrrerrrr..." was all he could manage. He felt as if he'd been choking and his throat was raw and full of gunk. Even if he hadn't been feeling like several horses had stampeded on his chest, it would have been hard for him to speak. All he could really tell at that moment was that he was lying on his back and that it wasn't comfortable.

His eyes flickered.

"Merlin, you must wake up," the voice told him.

He tried to open his eyes, but it was very hard. He listened instead to the voice, hoping that it would help him."

"Merlin, I can't help you, you must wake up first," he was told.

Sounds like a nice voice, his growing consciousness told him. A woman, I think.

After a few more attempts, he opened his eyes to a dim blur. His eyes were streaming. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes.

"Mmmmy..." he started, but stopped as he coughed violently, and he rolled to his side. The rolling caused him pain and dizziness, but these helped him come to his senses a bit quicker. "My... head..." he whispered hoarsely, bringing his hand up to his head.

"You fell through a trapdoor," the voice- woman- told him. You hit your head when you landed. Luckily, you didn't fall far at all so your wounds from your fall shouldn't be severe. You should be more worried about the smoke inside you," she said. "There are many traps here, be on your guard."

Merlin stopped coughing and returned to lying on his back. He looked up, a torch was burning somewhere on a wall sconce, and he could see the woman from his dreams standing before him looking down at him with such an expression of kindness on her face. Queen Alianor looked like a ghost, all grey with only the barest hint of colour about her.

"You're the Golden Queen," Merlin said, his words punctuated by nasty-sounding coughing.

She laughed, the sound falling around him like medicine, making him feel better just at the loveliness of it.

"I have heard that name- it was around even when Arosslegne was at the height of it's rule." She came closer to him and became serious. "Merlin, you must get up and find Arthur. The sorcerer's magic has cursed you and you need help before..." she trailed off, her meaning clear.

Merlin choked again on the gunk building up in the back of his throat, more black smoke falling out of his mouth and nose. "It's like poison," he said, half to himself, half to her.

She nodded, "it is good for you to see it like that- then you know what you're up against. It's not just smoke."

Merlin rolled over on to his front, slowly, and with difficulty. He rested on his front, finding it hard to take a full breath. "Where is Arthur?" he asked, rasping.

"He fell through another trapdoor," Alianor told him. He fell further, but had a better landing than you. Now, get up!"

Merlin dragged his arms up, and put his hands either side of his shoulders to push himself up on to all fours, his head hanging, and then he fell to the side so that his back rested against the wall. His breath was coming in shorter and shorter breaths. He tried to spit out the gunk from his throat, but nothing came. His tongue felt too dry, like sandpaper. He pushed against the wall, and slid upwards, using his feet and hands to push himself up. He was eventually standing, but leaning against the wall like a drunkard. He had to keep stopped after every movement to try and take enough breaths to get a full lungfull of air inside him. It wasn't easy, and the sound of his breathing started to wheeze. His head lolled, but he pushed it back with all the effort he could muster so that he could look at the Queen, his head leaning against the stone behind him. He could feel beads of sweat dripping down his face and neck.

Queen Alianor came closer. If she'd not been a ghost, her skirts would have brushed against his legs, and if he weren't so distracted by consciously having to make sure he could breathe, Merlin would have been blushing. He knew she was there, right in front of him- he could see her- but the lack of any sensation from having someone that close played with his mind a little, but she was definitely there.

"You must move, Merlin," she said. "You can't stay here."

She leaned forwards and kissed him. His mind went blank. He could feel nothing of her, she was well and truly a ghost, and yet, he could feel the surprising warmth of her lips on his own. If anything, he would have expected a deathly cold stealing through his body, but no, her lips were definitely warm and they filled him with a warmth too. He didn't respond to the kiss, but when she pulled away, he felt like it was a little easier to breathe than it had been before the kiss.

"Move, Merlin," she said, not unkindly.

He nodded, and followed her down the tunnel of the catacomb still moving like a drunkard, but moving far more easily than he had before.

-oOo-

The fall had been terrifying, Arthur had to admit to himself, but he was eternally grateful to whomever it was that was watching over him. He had fallen into an underground lake it seemed- probably the spring that was the source of the water for the city. Even with the minimal amount of armour he had on it had been a hard swim, but he'd managed it. He'd clearly landed well into the water- it could have been nasty, falling from that height and speed into a lake, but it might have been that the armour itself had saved him from any major injury. He was lying by the lake on the stone floor, trying to catch his breath and still the errant beating of his heart which was hammering away in his chest from the adrenaline.

He got it down to feeling only slightly out of breath before he got up, the injured Merlin fresh in his mind.

He looked around, realising now that he could see even this far underground- there were lit torches in wall sconces, the flames casting an orange flickering glow all around him, but he couldn't see that hideous spectre that had been in the circular room above. Arthur looked upwards, trying to judge how far he had fallen, but the ceiling of the cave was too far upwards and too far in the shadows to be seen. It had certainly felt like a long fall.

His hand automatically went to his sword at his side, but it wasn't there. He remembered that he'd had it in his hand as he fell, but he must have let go of it at some point as he certainly didn't have it now.

Behind him, in the water, there was suddenly a 'ting' of metal against stone and he whirled around to look. There it was, just sitting innocuously at the edge of the lake- his sword. His Excalibur. He bent down and snatched it up to see. It was definitely his sword. He looked around. There was apparently no one there to help him, and Merlin wasn't there to retrieve his sword for him like he had so many times before in training and in battle. And yet, here it was sitting right there as if it had felt his need. He frowned at the sword, but he wasn't going to question his good fortune- Yet, he thought to himself. With another look around to check he was alone, he moved away from the lake to find a way out and a way to get back to Merlin.

-oOo-

Merlin felt like he had the worst hangover on top of a bout of flu and goodness knew what else besides. He was starting to stagger again, his vision going a little grey at the edges, and the effects of the Queen's kiss from earlier were starting to wear off. He took a few more steps forwards to follow Alianor, but he fell to his knees, his hands grazing against the floor as he almost doubled up from a coughing fit. Alianor was suddenly by his side.

"Merlin, you must move!" she urged him, "there are traps everywhere, even here!"

"I... can't!" He gasped out, but he pushed himself up, using the wall as leverage.

He took a few more steps when something moved past him like a gust of wind which ruffled at his hair, and his left arm suddenly felt numb. He looked down, and in the torchlight, it looked as if his shoulder was glowing. It dimmed to the light of embers in a fire, and then Merlin collapsed unconscious.