Chapter 7: In which Claire makes the worst (and best!) casserole of all time
Having left Zoe behind and already encouraged Claire to rest, Douxie found himself without anything to do with his barbed anger. It goaded him to find some way to distract himself. He let his feet carry him along without paying any attention, and naturally they led him to Merlin's workshop.
The door stood ajar and Douxie could see his master dozing in a chair near the windows. Realizing this was finally his chance, he tiptoed in and started going through papers scattered all over the table. Every time he was in the room Merlin would hide it all, but now finally Douxie could see what he'd been doing all this time.
Records of ancient alchemic practices, possession spells, dark corruption and diabolism were everywhere, along with numerous notes on properties of various minerals. Most of the last had been furiously scratched out, however. There was a puzzle here, but the pieces were disjointed.
"It's not right," he muttered to himself, tightening one fist so much that it grew painful. "I can see it, but it's… it's missing something."
"Which is exactly how I've felt the past fortnight," Merlin spoke up, making Douxie's head fly up in surprise.
The white-haired wizard gave his neck a twist to pop a crick out of it, then stretched out one finger to make the table's contents reorganize themselves into a single neat stack. His apprentice shifted from foot to foot.
"No matter how far back I look, there is nothing I can find in any culture to explain how or why such an ineffective ore as onyx has so much power behind it. Absurd, considering how few spells are even able to utilize it," Merlin continued in a tone of fatigue. "It's primarily used as a means of stabilizing volatile magic, not conveying an insatiable corruption the likes of which I have never encountered. The paradox is frustrating! It doesn't seem possible, and yet I have no choice but to accept the evidence before my eyes."
The paper full of crossed-out words lay on top of the pile, and Douxie felt sure he could find the answer if only Merlin would only allow it. "Master, let me help. I know if you just give me the chance—"
"Out of the question," came the inevitable rebuke.
"But why not?" Douxie pressed, going forward with hands outspread in something very near a pleading gesture.
"Ancient magic of this sort is far beyond you." He placed on hand on his spine as though his back was giving him trouble. Armor clinked softly with each movement. "The power taking over James Lake is designed to consume his very soul unless I find a way to prevent that."
"At least let me—"
"Do you not understand, Hisirdoux?!" Merlin bellowed, shooting to his feet and making the apprentice recoil. "Any attempt to remove that onyx shard will cause a rebound. Rebound! As in you'll be lucky to avoid being pulled into the curse yourself. I can only hope there is something useful in what you retrieved from the last reliquary."
Green light picked up a collection of books from the trunk in the corner and he sorted them with a fastidious eye, waving away several in annoyance.
"I didn't ask for those! Must you always clutter up this room with redundant or unrelated works? Put them away and let me continue my research. And don't—"
"But Master!"
"—'but Master' me," he finished almost on top of Douxie. "Though I admire your enthusiasm, this task is for a true master wizard. Not one still struggling to differentiate his flux runes. Go make yourself useful somewhere else so that I can concentrate. I will summon you if you are needed."
Dismissed, Douxie had no choice but to leave with the dozen or so books Claire had added to Merlin's chest. He stormed to the upstairs library and threw the pile down. They scattered, one flipping end over end and losing a number of pages.
A mixture of exasperation and guilt at having damaged an irreplaceable book pulled a groan from his chest, then he knelt to collect the pages.
Claire had obviously chosen this one because of the pictures. It was a monsterology textbook with many notes written in Merlin's hand along the margins. Douxie hadn't looked at it in at least seventy-five years. On one loose sheaf were sketches comparing the different species of wisps, and another was a partial summary about the feeding habits of trolldragons, which made him blanch. Then he saw a drawing of a one-eyed creature labeled "Nimue, Lady of the Lake". Nothing 'ladyish' about her that he could see, though.
He was about to put that with the rest when a set of notes in Merlin's firm handwriting caught his eye. Reading it more carefully, his eyes widened. All at once Douxie forgot everything else and charged for the exit. But halfway to the workshop he ground to a halt.
Merlin would never let him try this. One excuse after another would be flung in Douxie's face and then the old wizard would go out of his way to ensure he could never even attempt it on his own.
Maybe it was too dangerous a gamble.
The wizard turned aside and wandered toward the lower battlements. Thanks to the wide window behind King Arthur's dais it was too sunny for the trolls to be in the throne room now, so he intended to do his own magical scouring of Jim when no one was about. But there knelt Claire in the center. Douxie ducked back before she noticed him.
Accompanied by no one except the ever-vigilant suits of armor, Claire leaned against the partially-transparent stone, whispering through a pleasant smile. She held out one hand and allowed a swirl of shadow magic to form, then laughed. When her eyes returned to Jim's face, the smile faltered along with her magic. Claire dropped down and hugged her knees, face hidden. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably.
The reluctant spy backed away from the throne room and looked down at the page in his hand once again.
A plan began to take shape over the next few hours. He considered it from every angle imagineable, finally determining he was right.
With a furtive air Douxie crept into the lowest regions of the castle, even below the dungeon. Access was restricted by a hidden door which luckily didn't require anything more than a specific stone to be pressed. Some places (like Merlin's bedchamber) spat out a nasty ricochet spell if someone without the proper password tried to enter.
Though the walls of these tunnels were rough, their floors had been stamped smooth by centuries of feet from the empty suits of armor stationed below. Cannons and other defenses for Camelot were down here, but so were other things far more secret.
He slipped through the labyrinth of passages, trying to remember the exact route from nine hundred years earlier. Once Killahead Bridge was sealed, he'd only been able to force himself to stay in the floating castle for a few months. It was too isolated. So as soon as all the tasks Merlin had set were completed (and he'd managed to steal a fragment of Avalon's Heart), he begged Galahad to let him leave. He knew the duty of preserving Camelot's most sacred objects was not to be taken lightly, but he couldn't stand living there any longer.
Now if only he could find it…
The current passage gradually grew too dark to see and a door met his fingertips. Douxie felt his heart hammering even harder. Venturing in, the vaguest hint of light came from up ahead through the continuing corridor. Less than a minute later he came out into a circular room ribbed with curved pillars. Green-glowing lines covered the walls and wound their way toward the center where a marble sarcophagus loomed. He could just barely see an object on top carefully wrapped with black velvet.
Douxie cautiously moved into the burial chamber, trying to ignore the raw tension in his own limbs and the half-light that cast an aura of disease over the room. If Merlin had added any wards at all, this wouldn't end well…
As his slightly-trembling hand reached out to touch it, a pair of antlers rose up on the other side of the casket. Shocked, he threw out a blast of magic and heard a yelp in return.
Pumping with adrenaline, Douxie snatched the object and turned to run but something seized his leg. The wizard pitched forward, his treasure hitting the stone floor with a metallic clatter. He twisted to one side as masses of vines swarmed toward him. The antlered figure peeped over the casket again as he was throwing out flares of blue magic to defend himself.
"Oh, it is you!" came her dainty, feminine voice.
The aggressive vines halted their attack and released him, receding back into darkness. Douxie lied on the floor, breathing hard and staring in complete perplexity at what appeared at first glance to be a child crouching atop the sarcophagus.
"I did not realize Merlin's apprentice had permission to enter this room."
He finally managed to sit up. "Wh-Who are you?"
"Nari of the Eternal Forest," she replied with a modest smile. "Hisirdoux, is it?"
"Uh… I go by Douxie now." He observed the flowers in her green hair and the leafy clothing that he sensed was more a part of her than it was a garment. "Does anyone know you're here?"
"Only Merlin. He wished my presence to remain secret for the time being."
Douxie stood, brushing himself off. "Sorry for attacking you. I didn't expect to see anyone."
She shook her head as though the idea was silly. "I believe you would have had great difficulty harming me. Still, Merlin should have told you I was down here when he sent you."
"He's… ah… preoccupied at the moment," he dodged.
Nari's expression turned sad. "Yes… Yes, he is."
Feeling it would be rude to just walk away, he gestured to the green-lit walls around them. "How long have you been here?"
"Almost three months, ever since the Morgana's attempt to usher in Eternal Night failed."
"Alone? Why?"
Nari instantly grew guarded. "If Merlin did not speak of it, is it wise of me to do so?"
They regarded one another for a few more moments. Why would Merlin hide her here, of all places? And what did she have to do with the Eternal Night? Well, he couldn't waste time thinking about that now, especially when he wasn't likely to get answers.
Douxie picked up the object he'd come for. "I have a task to complete. Sorry for bothering you."
He threw her a shaky smile and left. Nari carefully climbed down, fingers sliding along the carved letters on one end of the marble structure that spelled out "Artur Pendragon Rex". She resumed her seat in the nestlike bower of vines and flowers she'd crafted in the far corner of the room, but couldn't recapture the serenity of the meditation Douxie had interrupted when he came in.
Almost stooping over the heavy artifact he'd stolen, Douxie hurried back to the throne room. Claire was gone, thankfully. This was likely the best opportunity he'd get.
He carefully unwrapped the velvet cloth from a wide claymore, focusing on everything he'd ever learned or overheard about this weapon. Then he prepared to do a spell that would either help… or make things much, much worse.
His bracer lit with white-hot runes as he set Excalibur point-down. Its tip rested on the image of Camelot castle inlaid on the floor.
"Alright. Let's do this."
Upstairs, Merlin stopped fiddling with another spell combination. Great power was being accessed inside the castle. Sweeping up his staff, he dashed out.
Toby, Aaarrrgghh and Blinky were chatting sociably with Claire after she'd come down to the dungeon in search of company. The two trolls abruptly looked around in a nervous manner. Even Claire knew instinctively that something strange was happening.
"Do you sense that, my friend?" the four-armed troll asked. "The very walls emanate a power unlike any I have ever felt before."
Zoe stood in the main hall near the brilliant green bar of light that extended up from the Heart of Avalon, unaware that Archie was staring down at her from the high mezzanine. She perceived a resonant fountain of magic bursting up above at the same time that the dragon nearly choked.
Something was wrong with Douxie! But the fierce influx of magic passing from wizard to familiar made him so nauseous and weak that Archie couldn't fly.
Douxie grunted as he was forced down to one knee. A sinister bronze glow pulsed as he gripped Excalibur with shaking fingers. Shadows deepened and the only light in the room seemed to come from the sword itself.
"You want more magic, do you?" he said through clenched jaws. "As long as you do what you're supposed to then take it, you bloody sword!"
His bracer's runes reeled, even sparking as he used it to shield himself from Excalibur's greedy, invisible claws.
Merlin burst into the room. "Hisirdoux, you fool!"
"Don't you dare stop me!" Douxie shouted back, hunching over the sword and gathering his strength. Time was up. Hopefully it had thieved enough for the spell now. "Malum subjugo!"
Blue magic flamed along the weapon's length. He raised it at the very moment that almost all the residents of Camelot converged on the throne room. Claire screamed, seeing Exalibur descend directly toward Jim.
Sword met stone, cracking in a burst of lightning that blinded everyone.
When they were finally able to look again, the protective enchantment keeping Jim safe had crumbled. Douxie lay on the floor without moving. Excalibur itself had landed several paces away, no longer gleaming with magical light. For a few moments it was all so startling that no one could even breathe. Then Archie wobbled into the room, the anxious noise in his throat seeming to break the spell of stillness that had fallen over everyone.
"Jim!" Claire cried, tears streaming down her face as she hurried forward. "Jim, please be okay!"
She slid on the scattered rubble in her haste to reach him, but the terror turned to tearful shock when she saw him sit up and groggily look around. Even Merlin had come to an astonished halt.
The onyx shard and its corruption had frozen in place.
Once the thrill of having Jim back among them had lowered to a warm simmer, Claire tugged her boyfriend away from everyone excitedly. Douxie's familiar had perched on the wall outside, eyes fixed on one particular window where Merlin could be seen pacing back and forth. Beckoning to him, she stepped into the sun.
"Oh, Archie! Think you could help me out with something? I promise it won't take more than a few minutes."
The black dragon considered briefly (throwing one look back up at the ranting, gesturing Merlin) before he glided after them without a word.
Claire took Jim by the hand once more as they followed the corridor. "Every time we have dinner I've been going through Blinky and Aaarrrgghh's food before they can get to it. I think I have just enough now."
"Just enough?" her boyfriend wondered as they skirted the dangerous light from a window. "Just enough whats do you have for what?"
"Bagdwella gave me her recipe for sock casserole while we were in New Jersey," the Mexican girl announced with pride, "and I can't think of a better reason to make it than having you back!"
Jim suddenly laughed, the canines in his jaw jutting out. The idea of Claire making trollish food was an interesting one, to say the least.
They had reached the bottom floor and Claire led the way to the kitchen. It was a cold, rounded room that didn't smell as though any food had been prepared here in years, but she directed Archie to light the oven with the promise of salmon for his next meal. He set the kindling aflame and spent an additional minute or two heating up the oven as well to speed things along.
"I'll hold you to your word," the dragon said before leaping into the air and sailing away.
What shelves hadn't fallen down were empty, and the one string of onions that had survived was nothing more than hollow husks. Merlin's preservation spell on the castle could only go so far, after all. Clothing, metal and wooden furniture may not have corroded or rotted over the last nine hundred years, but food wasn't going to last long. When Claire opened a cupboard set into the stone wall, only broken crockery and wooden crates were inside. She pulled out the crates, biting her lower lip to hide how nervous or excited she felt.
Willing to help, the Trollhunter cleared off the table for her and watched as she set them down. Whatever they contained smelled appetizing to him. She unfolded a paper and considered it, one finger tapping her chin as she tried to remember where she might have stored some of the ingredients needed. At last the girl snapped her fingers and ran to a wooden barrel.
"I sure have missed a lot," Jim commented as he watched her deposit tin cans on the table. "Dragons and more wizards moved in, huh?"
"Yeah, and Douxie's been helping me with my shadow magic—which I didn't know I still had! When we got into a fight yesterday with that horrible knight I was actually able to use portals. That's how we escaped too." She paused to check the piece of paper, then dumped a load of filthy socks into a wide pot. "If it hadn't been for his lessons I'm not sure we would have made it."
Jim listened quietly as she worked and chatted, describing everything that had been happening the last two weeks. After smashing several tin cans with a mallet, she gave him an example of her latest accomplishment by creating an illusion of a butterfly that swirled with ghostly black and violet. It fluttered past his face but disappeared in a glittering sprinkle, making her blush.
"I'm still working on it. Douxie promised next time to show me how to create spheres of pure magic so that I can fight whether or not I have a weapon."
"Sounds like you're enjoying yourself," he said cautiously. "You, uh, really do enjoy spending time with everyone here, don't you?"
"Of course!" she smiled, but then paused to frown. "I know the recipe says to make a gravy from scummy pondwater, but all I have is a bucket Archie took a bath in the other day. I saved it just in case… well, I wanted to be optimistic. Now I'm glad I was."
"That dragon took a bath?"
Her expression turned playful. "Okay, so he might have slipped into it by accident. Everybody heard him yowling! I also might have used it to wash some of Toby's dirty clothes."
They laughed together and trailed off into a comfortable silence while she continued to add ingredients to the pot. Spontaneously throwing in a few rusted spoons, Claire gazed uncertainly at the mixture. It was difficult not to cover her nose, but seeing her boyfriend looking more than interested was gratifying.
While she searched for something resembling an oven mitt, Jim reached up to finger the onyx shard in his chest. It wasn't a jagged lance of searing pain anymore but it still throbbed. He didn't want anyone to know. They'd gone through so much worry for him, and for the first time in weeks they were happy. It was better to let them think things were closer to normal now.
"That about does it," his girlfriend nodded. She shoved the cast iron pot into the oven and set a timer on her phone. "Bagdwella said to let it cook thirty minutes or until it smells like it's burning."
"You know no one is ever going to be able to use that oven again, don't you?" he asked, grinning.
She shot a matching grin back. "Yeah, but my boyfriend is worth it!"
For a moment they continued to sit there, relishing the pure joy of simply being together again. But Jim's face slowly took on a more somber expression.
"Did… did anyone tell my mom about this?"
"No!" Claire burst out. "Are you kidding? She would have been all over us! Every time she calls I tell her that you're really busy. She's probably getting suspicious by now so you may want to let her know things are fine as soon as possible."
At least he didn't have to deal with his mom freaking out over him being stuck in a block of stone to protect him from a curse. Claire's animated voice hummed on around him as she continued to get him up to date with everything. But between every other story, she always returned to describing her lessons. He guessed it was because they were so important to her.
"I've been practicing longer shadow-jumps. I actually got down to the surface earlier today. It was a little town near Memphis. Think I crashed someone's birthday party at a park, unfortunately," she admitted, abashed. "But I made it back to my room only a little winded. Douxie thinks with enough practice I could get all the way to Arcadia from anywhere in the world since I have enough of an attachment to it."
She reached out to take his hand, feeling the four armored fingers with her delicate ones.
"Hey, once I'm strong enough we can go visit your mom anytime. I promise. And we can go on another date."
As gently as he could, he pulled away. She turned her full attention to Jim. This wasn't like her boyfriend at all.
"I… we went on a date?" he asked, looking uncomfortable as her eyes grew anxious. After a moment he turned away. "Look, Claire, a couple months ago I started realizing I was having trouble remembering certain things. It was only little stuff at first—how good fried eggs smell, what a flower feels like, how nice it was to be able to remove my armor at a thought—but then it kept getting worse. I know I went to school, but though I remember most of what I learned, I don't really recall being there. I know I used to eat dinner with my mom, but all I have is a vague impression rather than memories of those times. Other things in my ilfe have gone missing too. I think… I think I'm beginning to lose what made me human."
She sat beside him, a blend of sympathy and concern all over her face. "Jim, I'm so sorry. I wish you'd told me earlier."
"I just want to let you know it doesn't bother me if you decide to move on."
Eyes widening with incredulity, Claire could only stare at him.
"We can never be what I'd hoped we would, but I… I want you to know that I'm okay with the idea of you and Douxie—"
"Douxie and me?!" she almost cracked up. "Jim, I don't know where you got the idea I thought of him as anything more than a friend and mentor, but it's not true. I don't care if we can never have a family. I'll stay by your side forever because I love you and no one else."
"I don't want you making a mistake or feeling obligated—"
"Good, because neither of those are the case." Her brown eyes drilled into him with no trace of laughter now. "I will never give up on you, Jim Lake Junior, so don't you even think about pushing me away. If you can't remember being human, then I'll remember for you and be your—is it burning?"
Black smoke leaked from the edges of the oven door and Claire hurried to pull out the sock casserole. It stung her eyes as she carried it to the table. But Jim sniffed the sad-looking concoction longingly.
"Smells great to me!"
"What in the Ten Kingdoms were you thinking?!"
Merlin's thunderous voice bounced off the walls of Douxie's room, threatening to give the younger wizard another headache. Though he didn't want the old man standing over him during this lecture, he wasn't sure he could trust his legs at the moment.
"It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission," he responded, chin set in stubborn rebellion. "Don't even deny that you wouldn't have let me."
Beard quivering with outrage, Merlin ignored the accusation. "Where did you even come up with such a cockamamy plan?"
Douxie pulled the page from the monsterology book from the pouch on his hip and handed it over. Seeing Merlin's face turn from infuriated to surprisingly thoughtful was worth any punishment he would get for this.
"How did you know it would work, Hisirdoux?"
"You told me earlier that ancient magic was at play, and the Lady of the Lake is recorded as one of the most ancient monsters in the world. You specifically wrote there that she fused her own power with yours, creating a sword that could negate, bind or tame practically any magic it encountered." Douxie forced himself up and managed to walk to the window. "I knew since we had no access to the true source of the corruption that it would be impossible to negate it, so I did the next best thing."
Merlin regarded him. "You do realize that using Excalibur without being unified with it ran the risk of burning you out permanently, didn't you?"
"That's where this came in," he responded, holding up his charm bracer. "I have nine hundred years' worth of magic stored here that it could take instead of mine."
The old man raised one hand to half-cover his face, muttering, "You're still a fool."
"And proud of it," Douxie nodded.
"Seeing as you're hale enough to talk back," Merlin said with a grunt, "you have no excuse to be a layabout. James Lake may be on his feet but he's nowhere near cured. I want you upstairs in ten minutes. We have work to do."
Merlin left, but the ghost of a smile could just barely be seen playing along his lips. Behind him Douxie heaved a sigh of relief, glad the worst thing that happened to him was a headache and the loss of some stored magic.
Then for the first time he noticed that the shabby, makeshift bedding he'd made for himself had been replaced by something far more comfortable. A perk for risking death, he supposed.
Archie appeared outside the window and Douxie opened it to let him in.
"Why didn't you at least tell me what you were doing?" the dragon scolded, looking offended as he hovered there. "I could have helped!"
Douxie caught him out of the air, wrapping both arms around his familiar. "I know you can pair with me for strong spells like that, but I didn't want Excalibur to hurt you. I had no idea if I was even going to make it myself. If it hadn't accepted the magic from my bracer then…"
Dragon wings slapped him in the face. Not enough to be painful, but it was a surprise all the same. Archie changed into a cat and jumped down to stalk away to the far end of the room before casting a churlish glance back.
"The fact that you put your life on the line without consulting me is the worst betrayal a familiar can suffer, but you seem to be under the impression that it was perfectly fine." Archie's whiskers twitched. "We swore to stick by each other through thick and thin, didn't we? Was I the only one who meant it?"
"Sorry, Arch." Douxie mumbled, shutting his eyes as he recalled the awful dread that had washed over him when he'd first held up Excalibur and felt its ravenous hunger for his magic. Not once had he even considered putting his best friend in harm's way… or how Archie would have taken it. "I thought I was doing the right thing. You've always been there for me whenever I needed the slightest help or reassurance… And what do I do that even scratches the surface of what I owe you?"
Soft fur rubbed against his leg. "Well, your braised herring is worth dying for, so I'd say you've paid me back several times over with that alone. But… don't ever think that your life isn't worth much."
The cat leaped up for a ride on his shoulders and Douxie leaned his head against him companionably. Remembering he was expected upstairs, he pulled the door open—in time to see Zoe raising her hand to knock. She seemed startled but quickly recovered.
"Just checking up on you," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Everyone was pretty excited about that spell you pulled off. Looked like some really advanced magic. Merlin said he couldn't believe you weren't dead or burned out."
"Well, as you can see I managed to survive," Douxie told her, sarcastically gesturing to himself top-to-bottom with both hands. "I have things to do."
He stepped around her while she was still casting about for something else to say. Archie shot a look back then put his muzzle close to Douxie's ear. "Quite a reversal. Usually you're the one who gets left behind, gaping like a fish."
"Don't even start, Arch," Douxie warned.
They reached Merlin's workshop, immediately receiving a habitual rebuke for being late. But for the first time Douxie got the feeling his master didn't mean it. Various objects drifted about the room as he checked several lists of notes at the same time. Excalibur stood against the far wall, making Douxie draw up short.
"Master… who is she?"
"Who?" he grumped, not in the mood for riddles.
"The one in King Arthur's crypt."
Archie stepped from Douxie's shoulders onto the central table as he saw the old wizard stiffen and the soft green light around all levitating items intensified. Merlin slowly turned to face him, wholly serious.
"Someone who needs protection. No one is to know she's here. Do you understand?"
"Not unless you explain, I don't," Douxie responded with something very close to an eyeroll. "I'm willing to keep her safe, but I'd still like to know why."
"Trust me that knowing too much is just as dangerous as knowing nothing. Don't ask again, Hisirdoux."
With a skeptical expression, the younger wizard considered the words. It never seemed that way to him. His problems over the centuries had been based around the struggle to learn the practices and nuances of magic despite having great difficulty absorbing information as well as no formal teacher. If he had a choice between knowing just enough or knowing too much, he'd choose the latter. Why did Merlin always feel he himself was the only one who deserved to know the full truth?
Looking at his Master as he stood there among a floating collection of oddments, Douxie knew he wasn't likely to receive an answer.
A/N: Malum Subjugo is roughly Latin for "suppress evil" which I felt would be appropriate here. I know the conjugation is wrong, but they did the same thing with the official spells in the show. That random word "sluumberso" in Douxie's sleep spell isn't even Latin!
I've always been something of a philologist (word-lover), so it annoyed the heck out of me to see Claire, Jim and Steve all go back in time and have no problems talking with people who spoke Middle English. This was Chaucer's time period, before what's known as the Great Vowel Shift (which added to the craziness of how and why many words are spelled the way they are in English). Yeah, yeah, it's a kids' show and all that, but in reality the language they would have spoken would be so difficult to understand that all communication between the time travelers and those in Camelot would have been next to impossible. Except for Douxie. He'd probably pick it right back up again since it's his mother tongue.