Bo started to protest that she wasn't going anywhere until she'd made sure Morgana was all right, but Merlin stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I'll take care of Morgana," he quietly assured her. "You should go. You had things you wanted to discuss with the king – er, Trick – didn't you?"
"Yeah, but that can wait. If something happened to Morgana, that's more important."
"She'll appreciate that, but Trick is the king, not to mention your grandfather, so you probably shouldn't keep him waiting. Besides, sometimes it can be easier to talk to just one person when you're upset." In fact, if his suspicions regarding the source of Morgana's mood had any truth to them, he was positive she would be more likely to open up to him about it rather than Bo.
This claim was met with a doubtful look from the succubus. "Are you sure? If there's something wrong, we should all deal with it together."
"And we will," Merlin promised as he turned to face her and placed his hands on her shoulders, "but right now you have other responsibilities. This is why, when we first started this, we talked about what to do when all three of us couldn't be together, remember?"
"I do." Bo examined his face intently for another moment, searching for any hint of doubt that would give her a reason to blow off Trick's request, but finding none, she turned to Olga and said, "All right, take me to Trick."
The maid led her away, and Dyson led Merlin to the door of Bo's chambers, pointing his nose at it to indicate that Morgana was behind said door.
"Thanks, Dyson. I don't suppose you'd like your ears scratched, would you?"
The wolf responded with a disgusted look – he might currently be in a canine form, but he most certainly was not a dog – and trotted away, his nails clicking on the shiny floor. Merlin permitted himself a fleeting grin before opening the door, hoping whatever he found inside wouldn't be too bad.
Morgana was sitting on the chaise longue at the foot of Bo's bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and a troubled expression on her face – definitely unhappy, but she wasn't crying, nor was her distress severe enough to unleash a wave of magical destruction like the one Bo had described in her account of that horrible night when Merlin's magic had been accidentally revealed to Morgana in the worst possible way. Looks like I'll have a much easier situation to deal with than Bo did…which really isn't fair since I caused all the trouble that night in the first place. Hopefully I won't get a concussion this time.
Cautiously sitting down beside Morgana, he reached out to her carefully, as if she was a wounded animal he didn't want to frighten. "Are you all right?"
"Fine; it's nothing, really. I'm just being foolish…"
"That fae you sparred with said something to you, didn't he? Probably something about how humans like us don't belong here?"
"He wasn't trying to be cruel, but in a way that made it worse; he was so matter-of-fact about it, as if he was merely stating some incontrovertible universal truth: grass is green, the sky is blue…and our lives are as short and insignificant as a gnat's compared to those of the fae."
"Ah."
"Is it any wonder they think us beneath them when, from their perspective, our lives are over in the blink of an eye? …And now that she's among her own kind, what if Bo starts to think the same?"
"She won't," Merlin said at once. "That isn't Bo; you know that, Morgana."
The faint note of disapproval in his voice made her drop her gaze in embarrassment; of course she should have known better than to think such a thing about Bo, even for an instant. After all, Bo had already been part of a fairly extensive fae community before she was transported to Camelot, and obviously hadn't let the prevailing attitude in that culture change the way she felt about Kenzi. Besides, it had taken a few centuries for her illusionist sparring partner to become jaded enough to adopt his present attitude that forming attachments to humans was futile at best, masochistic at worst, and knowing how big Bo's heart was, Morgana was certain that she would resist such changes even longer. Bo would probably love her and Merlin, as well as Kenzi, for the rest of their lives…
Still, even as she allowed herself to find solace in Merlin's embrace, Morgana couldn't help wondering if one day, whether it was five hundred, seven hundred, or even a thousand or more years from now, Bo would ever reminisce about the humans she had loved and lost with that same detached look in her eyes.
###
Olga led Bo to a door which did not look like any of the ones she'd passed through during her time with Trick last night, which the maid opened for her without making any move to enter herself. "In there, your highness."
Stepping through with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, Bo was surprised to find herself in what appeared to be a ladies' dressing room, with tall mirrors and cloth samples of various types and colors everywhere. Trick was indeed in the room, but he wasn't alone; there was an apparently middle-aged woman with a tape measure wrapped around her arm standing beside him.
"Ah, Isabeau – Bo," Trick greeted her with a smile. "How good of you to join us. She's all yours, madam. Work your magic."
"Wha-?"
Bo's query was cut short as the woman bustled up to her and took her face in both hands, turning her head this way and that as she inspected her. "Well, aren't you a lovely picture? It will be a pleasure to dress her, your majesty. Shoes off, please, princess, and step onto the stool."
Bo did as asked and was instantly bombarded with instructions to lift her arms and stand up straighter as the woman began measuring every part of her. "Trick, what is all this?"
"You need to be properly fitted for your new gown, of course."
"And why do I need a new gown?"
"For the ball that will be held at the week's end, in honor of your homecoming," Trick answered patiently, though she thought she detected a hint of exasperation buried deep beneath his polite amiability, as if he suspected her of being deliberately obtuse.
"A ball? For me? Gee, Trick, that's really nice of you, but you don't have to do that. And I don't need a new dress; I've got plenty already," she protested, thinking of the ensemble with the green leather corset and floral sash that had never failed to turn heads in Camelot.
"Of course there must be a ball," Trick retorted, definitely exasperated now. "Your long-awaited return must be celebrated as such a joyous occasion deserves. Besides, it isn't merely for your enjoyment; it's also a chance for you to meet the most influential of your future subjects."
At those words, Bo's stomach seemed to drop to somewhere in the vicinity of her bare feet. "Uh, Trick, you know I haven't agreed to do this whole princess thing, right? I thought we agreed to put a pin in that?"
"I let the matter rest last night in order to give you time to come to terms with it," Trick acknowledged with a frown, "but I hoped that, in between replenishing your energy with your humans, you might give some thought to your duties as the last member of the royal line."
"Oh, I've thought about it – it's hard not to when all I've heard since I got up this morning is 'princess' this and 'your highness' that – and I just don't think I'm the right girl for the job. I mean, I don't think a brief stint on the student council that got cut short when I had to go on the run after accidentally draining my human boyfriend makes me qualified to rule anything, do you?"
"It's unfortunate that you were deprived of the upbringing you should have had," Trick said slowly, looking like he was trying to understand her concerns yet not really succeeding, "but now that you're here, we can work to rectify that. Under my tutelage, I'm confident you'll soon learn everything you need to know as long as you apply yourself. In any event, you possess the only qualification that truly matters: you are of my blood."
"That shouldn't be all that matters! Lots of people with royal blood suck at being in charge, and the whole realm goes to pot because of them! Don't you think your people deserve a leader who has even a tiny inkling of what the hell they're doing?"
Trick glanced up at the dressmaker, who looked distinctly uncomfortable with what she was hearing even as she dutifully carried on measuring Bo. "Leave us." Then he beckoned Bo off the cushioned pouf she stood on and gestured for her to sit down on it instead, which put her at a height where he could grasp her shoulders in a bracing gesture. "Listen to me, Isabeau. The fact that it even crossed your mind to be concerned with what the people deserve only shows that you have the potential to be a great queen. Everything else can be taught."
He said this with absolute confidence – confidence in her – yet also with a hint of the warmth she associated with the Trick she knew, the one she had only caught the briefest glimpses of underneath his stern, kingly persona when they dined together last night. Her chest constricted, and she hated the thought of letting him down, but she had to be honest with him.
"The thing is…I don't know if I want to learn. Ever since I found out I'm fae, all I've done is fight to live my own life, to not let the Light or the Dark dictate what I can do or who I can be with. I didn't even let them make me choose a side-"
"What?" Trick interrupted. "What do you mean, you didn't choose?"
She quickly related the events of her initiation by combat, after which he merely said, "Well, if you passed the test, you did earn the right to make your choice…and the law doesn't specifically state that the new initiate must choose either Light or Dark. I thought the intention was obvious, but perhaps I should have worded it a bit more clearly." Still, she could tell by his lingering frown that he wasn't pleased.
"Does being unaligned disqualify me from being queen?" she asked hopefully.
"No. In fact, it might actually endear you to half of your subjects, as the Dark Fae have always grumbled that, even though I've assembled a council composed of an equal number of advisors from both factions to ensure fair implementation of the law, they feel they don't truly have equal representation since I, the final authority, count myself among the Light," Trick explained, causing her face to fall.
Eager to move on from the point of argument that had backfired spectacularly on her, Bo returned to her original train of thought. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that, after fighting so hard to buck the system, I can't turn around and become the system. That'd be pretty hypocritical of me, wouldn't it? Besides, I've never wanted to be in charge of anything, I don't want power or prestige or privilege. I just want to live my life the way I want… I just want to be free."
Her eyes grew moist at this admission, and Trick felt a faint stirring of sympathy even though he couldn't really relate to her feelings. Having been raised as royalty, trained for his eventual role as king for as long as he could remember, the idea of simply refusing his birthright had never even crossed his mind. Still, he figured it was best to appear as empathetic as possible; he hadn't been sensitive enough to Aife's feelings, appealing to her sense of duty and reason when he tried to explain to her why ending the Great Wars at any cost was necessary while failing to truly grasp the depths of her grief and rage over the loss of her mother, and the consequences had been catastrophic.
"An understandable desire, I suppose, given your background. Has it occurred to you, though, that if you become queen one day you would be in a position to amend some of those laws you find unfairly restrictive, to allow others to enjoy the freedom you crave?"
Bo's brow knitted into a frown of consternation at that; no, she hadn't thought of it that way at all.
"And it's not as if there aren't some advantages to being the ruler," Trick continued, sensing an opening. "Yes, there is a great deal of work involved, but it's not all drudgery and self-sacrifice. It can be quite rewarding too. Let me teach you what would actually be required of you, and we can delay your taking on an official role in court until you're ready."
"I guess that could work," Bo said cautiously, after taking a moment to analyze his words for any hidden traps. It sounded like he was still counting on her taking on that official role someday, which wasn't great, but at least he wasn't pressuring her to do anything at this very minute. 'Until you're ready' was a pretty vague timeframe…one which, if she played her cards right, she could probably (hopefully) drag out for a decently long time, maybe even indefinitely. Or maybe, if she flunked Princess 101 badly enough, Trick would think better of the whole thing.
"Excellent. In the meantime, however, we should proceed with the ball. Word of your reappearance will soon spread beyond the palace, and if you aren't formally presented, the gossipmongers will probably say I've locked you away in a tower, that you're…" His voice trailed off, but Bo guessed by the flash of pain in his eyes what it was he couldn't bring himself to say.
"They'll think I'm like Aife," she finished in a subdued tone. "Not exactly a pillar of mental stability." It occurred to her that allowing that misconception to take hold might be her best hope of escaping her royal duties for good, because surely Trick's subjects wouldn't accept him naming a nutcase as his heir, would they? On the other hand, while she didn't mind being seen as a renegade or even a weirdo for her rebellious ways, she didn't know if she actually wanted people to think she was insane…especially if fae laws had provisions for involuntary commitment of the mentally compromised. She might not want to be a princess, but neither did she want an angry mob storming the castle to fit her for a straitjacket.
Besides, as she thought it over, she realized Trick's request might have given her an opportunity to follow through on a promise she'd made that morning. "If I say yes to the ball, will you do something for me?"
"Of course. You need only ask."
Crossing her fingers that his helpful attitude wouldn't disappear when he heard what she wanted, she said, "Well, Morgana told me that you mentioned knowing her mother…"
"You want to know about Vivienne?" he asked with evident surprise.
"Morgana does, obviously; I want you to tell her."
Trick appeared taken aback at the fact that, of all the favors she could have asked of him, this was what she wanted, but to her relief, he didn't seem annoyed by the request. "Very well. You shall dine with me tonight, both of you."
Wondering if she might be pushing her luck too far but deciding she might as well try it – after all, the worst he could do was say no – Bo asked, "Can I bring Merlin too?"
"I don't see why not." Seeing that she looked rather shocked at his agreeableness, he raised an eyebrow and added, "I daresay one additional guest won't overtax the staff."
"No, I'm sure they're top-notch," Bo agreed quickly. Though still a bit disconcerted by his easy capitulation, she decided it was best to take yes for an answer and move on before he changed his mind. "Thanks, Trick. Okay then – you can have your ball, and I'll come to the party and dance and make nice with all the fae aristocrats like a good princess-in-training."
"I'm delighted to hear it. Now, I have a few other matters to attend to, so I'll let you get on with your fitting. I'll see you at dinner."
With those parting words, Trick made his exit, sending the dressmaker back in on his way out, and within minutes Bo found herself standing on the stool once more, this time stripped down to her shift now that there were no men present while the other woman measured what felt like every single part of her body and draped her in an overwhelming array of fabrics in every conceivable style, texture, and hue under the sun. As she struggled to provide some meaningful input on how her new dress should look, she couldn't help wondering, What the hell have I gotten myself into?
###
When the appointed hour for dinner arrived, Trick's personal servant escorted Bo, Merlin, and Morgana to the same private dining room where the newly reunited relatives had eaten the previous night. Trick wasn't there yet, so Merlin and Morgana took the opportunity to walk around the room and admire its atmosphere of understated opulence. Bo, meanwhile, checked out the table and was quietly relieved to see that it was set for four, with no fancy pet dishes in sight.
"Well," Morgana said after completing her inspection of the room, "from what I've seen of your grandfather's castle so far, I must say it rivals any other I've ever been in for luxury and elegance. I think we'll be quite comfortable here."
"I'm glad you approve."
They all turned toward the new voice, which of course belonged to Trick. He was dressed more casually than he had been earlier, having dispensed with the gold-trimmed scarlet jacket he'd worn when he introduced Bo to her dressmaker, and was now attired only in a simple black silk shirt with matching pants and boots, and no jewelry whatsoever.
His manner was equally unpretentious as he bade them sit without ceremony, yet Merlin and Morgana exchanged a wary look before taking their seats, silently confirming that they were both thinking the same thing: he might look a lot more approachable than he had at their first meeting, and Bo certainly seemed comfortable with him, but still, something told them it would be unwise to let their guard down completely.
They made small talk while eating their fish and salad; then, as the servants cleared away their dinner dishes and brought out dessert, Bo decided it was time to get down to business. "So, Trick, you were going to tell us how you knew Morgana's mom. Her name was Vivienne, right?"
"Yes, that's right." He looked down at his plate for a moment that lasted just long enough to make Bo wonder if she needed to prompt him again, before raising his eyes at last and directly addressing Morgana, who sat at his left hand, across the table from Bo. "Your mother, Vivienne, was once a member of my court."
Morgana received this information with a puzzled frown. "How can that be? I thought no humans were permitted…unless… Are you saying that someone here owned my mother?"
"No, no," Trick hastened to reassure her as the blood drained from her face. "As a matter of fact, not all humans in my kingdom have been claimed by a fae. In druid bands, for instance, fae and humans live together as equals. I allow them free passage through my lands, though of course they seldom come to the palace. Still, I've met several of them on my travels." He paused, turning a thoughtful gaze on Bo. "You know, if you ever wish to set your companions free, I'm sure that with their gifts they would be welcome among the druids. Perhaps they might even find a better life than the one they'll have here. Less…restricted."
Before Bo could even begin to question whether that might indeed be a better option and if it would be selfish of her not to encourage them to consider it, Merlin spoke up. "That would mean leaving Bo, though, wouldn't it? I mean, she's your only heir, so you're not about to let her run off to live with druids, are you? Your majesty?" he hastily tacked on, belatedly remembering that the man he was talking to was a very powerful fae as well as a king, no matter how casually he was dressed, so he should probably show a bit more deference than he did with Arthur, at least until he had a better idea of where he stood with Trick.
Luckily, Trick didn't seem to notice his slip, as his answering frown appeared to be inspired by the question itself rather than the hurriedly added honorific. "Obviously I would prefer it if my granddaughter remained here," he replied before turning to Bo. "Though I suppose, if you were determined to leave, I would have no choice but to honor your wishes." That was not, strictly speaking, true; there were other alternatives he could explore, but since he wasn't willing to commit to such extreme courses of action just yet, there was no point in bringing it up. Doing so would probably only alarm Bo and make her want to get away from him, and he would much rather she stayed of her own free will.
"I'm not," she said quickly, and he relaxed ever so slightly. "You're my family, Trick – the only family I've met so far that isn't murderously crazy – so now that I've finally found you after all the years I spent searching, the last thing I want is to leave."
"And we would never ask her to," Merlin said with an air of finality while Morgana nodded in agreement, "so it looks like we'll be staying here as long as you'll have us, sire."
"If that is your wish, then you're both welcome to stay." Privately, Trick had to admit he was impressed by their loyalty to Bo, which had to be strong indeed if they were willing to forego the freedom they could have enjoyed among the druids and accept their status as pets in order to stay with her. Thinking of Dyson and the lengths he'd gone to while trying to save her, Trick reflected that his granddaughter seemed to have a talent for inspiring devotion in all sorts of people; naturally, this only strengthened his conviction that she could be a great leader one day, if only he could make her see it.
"Now that that's settled, perhaps we can return to the subject of my mother?" Morgana asked with thinly veiled impatience. "Was she a member of one of those druid bands that passed through your kingdom? But you said they rarely come here to your castle, so how did she become part of your court? And how did she go from that to marrying my father? This land is so distant from Camelot, it's hard to imagine how they could even have met."
"No, Vivienne was never a druid," Trick answered, holding up a hand as if to shield himself from the barrage of inquiries. "She was a lady of noble birth, and she joined my court just as most of them do – her family sent her here so she might mingle with other nobles in order to form advantageous friendships and find a suitable match. I imagine it was much the same in the royal court of Camelot, yes?"
He waited for Morgana's nod before continuing. "As to how she met her husband, you must understand that things were different then. Before Uther Pendragon set out to purge his lands of magic, and in so doing fanned the flames of fear and resentment against our kind among many of his peers, we fae used to mix with humans more freely than we do now. They were not permitted to make their homes with us or learn our most closely guarded secrets without being claimed, but we did not take pains to conceal ourselves. Sometimes we even offered shelter to those who wandered into our midst. So it happened that one day, when I was visiting a vassal lord whose estate is much closer to Camelot – though it wasn't called Camelot in those days, before Uther's conquest and subsequent ascent to power – a young knight found his way there after being wounded in battle, and the lord took him in. Vivienne had made the journey as part of my retinue, as she had become a close friend of my wife and one of her chief ladies-in-waiting, she helped to care for this knight, and by the time he recovered, they had fallen in love. It caused quite an uproar; there were many who said I should have executed both of them-"
"Why?" Morgana butted in, too enthralled in the tale to remember that interrupting kings was generally a bad idea. "My father was a knight of noble blood, so surely he would have been considered a worthy suitor for a queen's lady-in-waiting."
"Be that as it may, he was still human."
"But why did that matter, when my mother was as well?"
Trick blinked at her as if surprised. "Didn't I tell you…? But no, it seems I did not," he answered his own question after mentally reviewing what he'd said thus far. "Not in so many words, at least, though I would have thought it was obvious..."
"Tell me what?" Morgana demanded, leaning toward him with an almost feverish look in her eyes as her burning curiosity, her desperate need for the truth, grew to a nearly unbearable intensity.
"Vivienne was not human. She was descended from a long line of oracles, and her family has served my house loyally for centuries, which is why I welcomed her into my home and gave her an honored position in my household."
Morgana jerked back in her seat, now wearing an expression appropriate to having been slapped in the face. "What are you saying?" she whispered. "That my mother…was fae?" Her eyes darted around the table, seeking out Bo and Merlin as if hoping one of them would contradict him or tell him his joke wasn't funny, but they were too stunned to say anything.
"Yes." Trick frowned at her, not understanding why she was so shocked. "As I said, I thought that would have been obvious. I did say humans were not allowed to live among us without being claimed."
"But that's impossible," she argued, her voice slowly growing stronger as she went on. "My mother died when I was very young, but I do remember enough to be certain that she never displayed any magical abilities!"
"No, she wouldn't have." Trick's frown deepened, but now it seemed to be directed inward, and a pensive, almost melancholy air came over him. "Marriages between fae and humans were always forbidden, even in the days when our worlds were not so strictly separated as they are now, so when Vivienne announced her intention to wed her human knight, the law said I should have killed him and at the very least punished her severely…but Isabeau, compassionate soul that she was, begged me to spare them. So I convinced the sticklers in my court that it would be a far crueler punishment to strip Vivienne of her powers and cast her out to live among the humans she loved so much, as a mere mortal. Of course, she was forbidden from ever entering our world again, on pain of death… That's why I was so angry when I first saw you; you look so like she did when last I saw her that I thought she had returned, and if she had, I would have had no choice but to send her to the chopping block."
"Sounds like you were being cruel to be kind when you sent Vivienne away," Bo observed. She hoped that was the case, anyway, because even though she understood that he wasn't the same Trick she had known in modern-day Toronto, she didn't want to believe he could be capable of unmitigated malice.
"I was as merciful as the law allowed me to be," he agreed, though he sounded slightly conflicted, as if, all these years later, he still wondered whether he could have handled the situation differently somehow. "Although, as I explained to you last night, the law has to apply to everyone, even those I might wish to shield from harsh consequences, or the law means nothing." He paused, then added in a slightly softer tone, "I did hope, however, that Vivienne found happiness with her human. She did truly seem to love him."
"I think she did," Morgana answered, which seemed to ameliorate whatever regrets he might have felt. "From what little I remember, my parents were very happy together, until the plague took her."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I suppose that makes me indirectly responsible for her death, since she wouldn't have succumbed to a human illness had I not rendered her mortal, but it is good to know she made the most of the time she had…and after all, it's not as if we fae are completely invulnerable either."
A shadow of grief passed over his features at the thought of all the fae he had known who were no longer with him, including his beloved Isabeau, but Morgana wasn't interested in assigning blame for her mother's death. It had happened so long ago that the wound in her heart had long since healed, and now that she knew the truth of her ancestry, she had a more pressing question on her mind. "Do you think I inherited my magic from her?"
"I don't know if that would have been possible after I removed her powers, and in any case the offspring of a fae and a human inherit nothing from the fae parent. Such children are nothing more than ordinary humans…at least, that's the way it has been in every recorded case of interspecies unions that have produced children," he amended, mindful that he might very well be sitting next to the single exception that proved the rule. "To tell you the truth, very little is understood about why certain humans seem to have a natural affinity for magic, how some of you are even able to harness it with the aid of instruments such as amulets, staffs, potions…"
"It wasn't like that for me," Morgana cut him off. "I never sought to harness magic, I never used any talismans to channel or enhance my power. It just rose up in me one night, like a tidal wave breaking through a dam, and ever since then it's been like a wild beast I must constantly fight to keep caged, though it has gotten better since Merlin began teaching me." She gave the sorcerer's hand a grateful squeeze under the table, which he returned.
"Innate magic in a human is very rare," Trick said thoughtfully. "For all I know, it may even be unheard of."
"Merlin's got it too," Bo piped up. "His manifested even earlier than Morgana's."
"Is that so? When did you first become aware of your gift, young man?" Trick asked with keen interest.
Merlin glanced down self-consciously, his fingers tightening around Morgana's hand. "I've known I had magic as long as I can remember. My mother says I was born with it."
Trick's eyes widened, but before he could continue interrogating Merlin, Bo, seeing that she and her big mouth had made her boyfriend uncomfortable, spoke up again in an effort to deflect attention from him. "I forgot to mention that Morgana also sees the future in her dreams. That's an oracle thing, right? Like her mom?"
"Indeed." He sat back in his chair, peering thoughtfully at Bo. "It seems your companions are far more unique than I thought."
"That's a nice way of putting it," Merlin muttered.
"Neither of us asked to be quite so unique as this, nor do we understand how we came to be what we are." Morgana leaned toward Trick again, her eyes wide and beseeching. "Please, you must have some inkling of how I inherited my mother's gift of Sight, if that is how I came by it. You were the one who wrought your magic upon her."
"That's true, but using my blood frequently has consequences even I cannot foresee." He paused, rubbing his chin as he pondered the issue. When he spoke again, his speech was slow, each word carefully measured. "I could investigate the matter further, if you wish… If you're willing to provide what I need."
A flicker of hesitation briefly dimmed the eager gleam in her eyes. "What is it you need from me?"
"Your blood – only a small amount. We Blood Sages are most renowned for our ability to alter fate's course with decrees written in our own blood, but there are certain things we can do with others' blood as well, knowledge we can glean…among other things. Of course, if you choose to entrust me with your blood, you have my word that I will not use it to harm you."
Morgana's hesitance deepened into a cold, slithering feeling of unease worming its way through her guts at the thought of what he might be able to do with just a few drops of her blood; Merlin hadn't taught her anything about blood magic, which he said was a subject Gaius' books alluded to only in the most oblique terms, but it stood to reason that any spells cast on a person would be much stronger if the caster used a part of the target themselves. Not just any part, either, but the very essence of what kept them alive, something they couldn't survive without.
On the other hand, this was Bo's grandfather, and while recent experiences had taught Morgana a painful lesson in how blood relations were no guarantee of trustworthiness, Bo seemed to trust Trick. Morgana trusted Bo absolutely; therefore, if Bo trusted him, she supposed she should as well. Besides, he had promised not to put her blood to any nefarious use. Even in the strange world of the fae, she had to hope that the word of a king still meant something…not to mention that trusting his word might be her only chance to learn more about the source of the awesome yet terrifying power that had upended her life, to understand why she was so different.
"All right," she said at last. "Whatever secrets might be hidden in my blood, I want to know them."
Merlin watched as Trick called for a servant to fetch a silver knife and glass vial which he used to take what he needed from Morgana, unsure how to feel about the whole thing. He still wasn't completely certain they could count the Blood King as an ally, though he had to admit the man had been much more personable during dinner than he'd expected; he hadn't balked at dining with humans and had appeared genuinely sympathetic as he recounted the tale of Morgana's mother's origins. Perhaps there was more to him than the stern, aloof monarch they had met when they first arrived, though Merlin didn't quite know how to reconcile his decision to spare Vivienne and allow her to live out her days with the man she loved with the way he'd driven the entire race of dragons to the brink of extinction with a few strokes of his pen, as the two actions seemed totally at odds with one another.
Despite his ambivalence toward the king himself, Merlin understood perfectly why Morgana was so desperate for whatever answers Trick could give her, especially in light of the shocking revelation that her mother had been fae, which had only created more questions about her true nature rather than alleviating the doubts that had haunted her since that fateful night when she set her chambers ablaze.
Merlin had lived with those same doubts even longer than she had, those insidious whispers in the back of his mind taunting him with the fear that he was a freak, a monster, an abomination that had no place in the world, and even though that inner voice had mostly been silenced when Kilgharrah explained that his purpose in life was to protect and guide Arthur, he still wondered sometimes where his magic had come from, how he had become powerful enough to vanquish a High Priestess like Nimueh after only a year's worth of earnest training…
Maybe that was why, without consciously deciding to open his mouth, he heard himself ask Trick, "Do you think you could learn anything from my blood?"
He shifted a little as the king's brown eyes – so like Bo's, yet not nearly as warm – fixed on him in a piercing stare. "What exactly is it you hope to learn, young man?"
"The same thing Morgana does, I guess," Merlin answered awkwardly. "Why I'll never be normal. Why I've spent most of my life feeling like an outsider, like I didn't belong anywhere."
"Feeling that way sucks," Bo said emphatically, looking as if she wanted to reach out and make some comforting gesture, though the width of the table between them prevented her from doing so. "Before I found out the truth about what I am, that's how I felt every day."
Trick glanced between them, his mouth turning down slightly at the corners. "I don't know if I can give you the answers you seek," he cautioned, "especially since I know nothing of your bloodline. Still, I will do what I can. After all, a human born with magic is an extraordinary phenomenon – and as far as you know, none of your relatives share this remarkable trait?"
When Merlin replied that his uncle Gaius had some skill in magic, though he'd only reached the point of being able to cast spells after years of study and claimed he had never been particularly powerful, Trick nodded and said, "I must admit, I'm as curious as you are."
###
Later that night, alone in his private study, Trick decided to indulge that curiosity by beginning his analysis of the blood samples he'd taken from Bo's humans before bed. He'd already gone through his own blood book, turning back to the page where he'd inscribed Vivienne's sentence to refresh his memory on its exact wording. He remembered that he had deprived her of her oracular talents as well as the longevity and resilience every fae possessed, yet a closer inspection reminded him that he had not actually made her human but merely, for all intents and purposes, reduced her to the state of one. Therefore, he guessed it was technically possible that she might still have had fae blood in her veins, though he couldn't fathom how that blood could have been passed down to a child fathered by a human when everything he knew about couplings between the two breeds said it was impossible.
When he mixed Morgana's blood with a potion that produced different reactions when exposed to the physical matter of humans and fae, however, he received quite a shock – somehow, against all odds, the girl had inherited both human and fae blood from her parents. Even more astonishing, it appeared that rather than remaining dormant as it should have, her fae blood was slowly growing stronger, which probably accounted for the late manifestation of her latent powers.
The question was, he mused as he stared down at the mixture of blood and potion that had yielded those anomalous results, how much stronger might it become, given enough time? Strong enough to overtake her human side? And if it did, what would she be then? For that matter, what exactly was she now? A human sorceress and seer, a fae with human blood, or something in between? Trick couldn't say, but he resolved to keep a close eye on the girl.
Next he turned his attention to the vial of blood he'd taken from Merlin – and if the results he'd obtained from testing Morgana's blood had shocked him, Merlin's left him positively flabbergasted. The boy was as human as he'd claimed, yet the amount of raw magical power in his blood, as measured by mixing a few drops with a substance that reacted to magic, glowing brighter in accordance with the strength of the magic it was exposed to, rivaled that of any fae Trick had ever seen. Even then, a separate test revealed that Merlin still hadn't realized his full potential, that he hadn't yet become all he could be.
Great Goddess… The thought was reflexive, an automatic reaction, yet as soon as the words came unbidden into Trick's mind, it struck him that they were very fitting. Surely no one but the Triple Goddess Herself could have granted such power to an ordinary human, which meant…
All thoughts of his bed banished, Trick threw a dressing gown over his nightclothes and hurried down to the palace archives, pounding on the door of the adjacent room where his court historian lived to rouse her. She opened the door in her nightgown, blinking owlishly at him.
"Your majesty? To what do I owe this very late pleasure?"
"My apologies for the hour, Phillipa, but this is important. I need everything you have – prophecies, theoretical writings, everything – on the legendary figure known as Emrys."
Well, I hope that was suitably exciting and/or shocking for the first update of a new year. Although some of the earliest versions of Arthurian legend featured Morgan le Fay as some type of fairy (i.e. fae) so in a way I'm just returning to the character's roots. And now Trick knows that Merlin is Emrys… The question is, what will he do with the knowledge?