My Boyfriend Merlin (7 page)

Matt switched off the phone. He started down the road.

I turned to watch the group of decoy cars lead away the Mercedes.

“We’ll take care of them.” Matt said. Matt opened and closed his fist. “
AnukRta
.”

Blue light surrounded the troop of cars. A set of phantom cars appeared behind us, looking completely identical. They turned at a split in the road.

“That should confuse them,” Matt said with a tired grin.

“You’ll tire yourself out,” Clarence observed from the back of the seat. “We need you alert, Master Matt.”

“Master Matt?” I muttered.

To my surprise, Matt blushed. “It’s a title.”

I didn’t reply. Down the disappearing length of road I saw the flames consuming Ragnar Manor. Tears streamed down my face as my home burned. I tried to wipe them away, but wasn’t fast enough.

Matt halted the car. Behind us the caravan screeched to a halt.

“Matt?” I said.

Matt blew out a breath. Gray clouds swirled above us.

“No,” Clarence said urgently. “You don’t have much left.”

Matt closed his eyes. His right hand fisted. “
Varsati
.”

A faint blue glow surrounded his fist. Above us, the clouds turned darker.

With a muttered curse, Clarence dialed his cell. “
Varasati,
” he yelled when it connected.

The diameter of the clouds became bigger and bigger until it reached the manor. The sky thundered in warning. Then, it started raining. On the line of the horizon, I saw the red light surrounding the manor die quickly under the watery onslaught.

I grabbed Matt’s hand and squeezed it tight.

With a tired smile, Matt slumped in his seat. He blinked as if he were fighting sleep. “I think you’re going to need to drive, Ryan.” He pointed to a sign on the road for the highway. Underneath it was a direction marker for Boston Logan Airport. “We’re booked on a flight in a few hours.”

“We’re going to London?” Oliver said, clearly excited.

“To England, but not to the Sword as of yet. The Council has a stronghold in the countryside.” Matt yawned. His eyes shut. “We will be safe there.”

***

We arrived at Logan at different terminals. Clarence drove. The group split up into three partitions of about eight people each. One team was going through New York to Manchester. One had gotten stuck with a stop-over in Philadelphia then to Edinburg, Scotland. I somehow got on the direct flight to London. I actually don’t know how we had tickets because the flights were all oversold. A man tried to buy a ticket from me as soon as he saw where I was headed for an outrageous amount. Matt, and the few remaining guardians traveling with us, hurried us through the reservations desk to security.

Later, I stood in line at the front of the airplane behind Grey as we boarded.

“Want to trade seats with me?” Grey asked.

“I guess,” I said, glancing at my ticket. I was on the aisle. 21C. Then I noticed the number on Grey’s ticket. “You have a middle seat!”

“Your legs are shorter than mine,” he defended.

I scowled at him. We moved up into the first class cabin. Matt lounged in a window seat a few rows down.

“Comfy?” Grey asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Matt waved his hand. Grey’s ticket fluttered in his hand. “Don’t say I never did anything for you, Ragnar.”

Grey looked down at his ticket. “I’m in 21C.”

“Hey!” I looked at my ticket. 3B. It was the empty seat next to Matt. Pushing past Grey, I dropped into the spacious seat. “Nice. We have our own TVs.”

Grey gaped at me. The people behind him grumbled as he was blocking the line. With a grimace, he walked into Coach.

I turned to Matt. “You just can’t stop yourself from needling him, can you?”

“He thinks he knows everything,” Matt said.

“I don’t know anyone else like that.”

Matt didn’t respond. He started rifling through his seat pouch.

“What are you doing?” I settled into my cushy seat.

He pulled out a sick bag. “Looking for this. Prepare yourself. I’ve gotten sick on every take-off.”

The stewardess came up to us. She smiled at Matt, completely ignoring me. “Do you need anything?”

“Is it too early for a drink?” He smiled. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of nervous flyer.”

The stewardess made a sympathetic noise, but shook her head. “We’re not supposed to before the flight—”

Matt held out his jacket. Their hands brushed as he handed it to the stewardess. I saw a small spark of blue fire. The stewardess’s pupils dilated. Matt said, “Even the smallest pint of ale would be a great help.”

She let out a high pitch giggle. “I’ll bring it right away.”

I thrust my jacket under her nose. She took it with a happy smile. “Anything else for you, sweetie?”

“No.” I elbowed Matt after she hurried away. “What did you do to her?”

“A small energy spark. It acts like an adrenaline boost. She’ll be really happy for a few hours.”

“Use that trick on girls often?” I said.

“She’s not my sort,” Matt replied.

I couldn’t resist asking, “What is your sort?”

His eyes traveled over my face. “Someone with a little mystery.”

I was saved from answering when the stewardess appeared with Matt’s beer. He gulped it down in two swallows and held the can back out to the stewardess. She blinked in surprise but hurried off when the pilot’s warning for take-off came on.

Matt tugged on the collar of his tight white t-shirt. “This thing is a steel beast and we’re trapped inside its belly—”

“It’s going to be okay.”

His face twisted into a scowl. “Do you have any idea how little control we have up here? Anything goes wrong and we’ve got no recourse. This mode of travel is complete insanity.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Does the big bad magician not like planes?”

“I am a wizard,” he muttered. “Magicians do parlor tricks.”

“Wasn’t Merlin a magician?” I watched the plane roll down the runway.

“Arthur never could get it straight. He used the word magician and it stuck. It’s completely insulting.”

I raised a brow. “Feel strongly about it?”

He grunted and glanced out the window—which was a mistake. The plane taxied down the runway and jerked to a stop as it reached the take-off line. Matt’s shoulders tensed so much I thought his bones would crack. I laid a hand on his bicep. He jumped, clearly startled. I moved to pull it back, but he laid his other hand over mine. Syrupy warmth spread over me.

“Merlin the Magician sounds better.” I tried not to wince when Matt’s grip on my hand tightened. “Tell me more about Merlin.”

He shrugged. “Not much more to tell than what you already know.”

“Most of what I thought I knew about all this seems to be wrong,” I retorted. “What’s the real story? I mean, Merlin was supposed to be King Arthur’s mentor. Practically handed him the throne, but then, let Arthur screw it all up.”

“He didn’t let Arthur
screw it all up
as you put it. Camelot just wasn’t filled with all that ridiculous romance and idealism they have in the movies. They were real people. Arthur made mistakes.”

“Because Merlin abandoned him.”

I was half-amused, half-startled when Matt actually huffed.

“You don’t understand at all. Merlin and Arthur thought they were doing all the right things. The ruling structure back then held the King at the top. Below him, the nobles ran their fiefdoms. Merlin and Arthur thought more checks and balances were needed, so they put the Round Table knights in the middle. The knights were Arthur’s emissaries. They went where trouble was and kept an eye on the nobles. It’s how Arthur held the kingdom together.”

“Checks and balances,” I said. “It’s a good idea, but it didn’t really work, did it? All that Guinevere and Lancelot stuff divided everyone’s loyalties.”

“Camelot fell apart at the end because Arthur couldn’t keep order among the knights. Not because of some supposed love triangle.”

The plane jerked again as we started the run to take off.

“I thought the knights of Camelot were the best and brightest.”

“They were, but you have to understand how the wizards fit in. Every knight had a wizard, sometimes two, traveling with him. A healer and a jack usually.”

“Jack?”

“Jack of all trades. An everything-wizard. Not very powerful in any one thing, but knows a little about everything.”

The plane rose. Gravity pressed down on us. Matt paled, his face turning a sickly, almost green color.

“So Merlin and the wizards caused Camelot to implode?”

Matt made a noise of dissent. “Merlin didn’t see it coming. During Arthur’s time, the wizards lived among the Regulars in peace. They weren’t in hiding, but they also weren’t treated as equals. They petitioned Arthur for a seat at the Round Table. Arthur stalled them because it would have made the nobles, who were all Regulars, unhappy. It was unfair. They should have been given as much recognition as the knights they served. They lived in the path of danger but they weren’t given a vote on the Round Table.”

“No taxation without representation. I’ve heard that before.” I said.

“Anger built up for years. The wizards began to segregate themselves. Merlin tried to warn Arthur. But another wizard, a very powerful one, rallied everyone against Merlin and Arthur. He turned Arthur’s son, Mordred, who was incidentally a half-wizard, against his father. With Mordred at his side, he pulled together the other wizards to strike back at Camelot.”

I prompted, “Really? He sounds interesting.”

Matt fingers curled around the armrest. “He wasn’t
interesting
. He was completely reckless. If Camelot was teetering on a cliff, he was the one who pushed it over the edge.”

I arched my brow. “Pretty heavy accusation, isn’t it?”

Matt gave me a look. “No, it’s not. You weren’t there.”

“Neither were you,” I said.

Matt paled as the plane picked up speed. The plane shuddered from turbulence.

“What did you see in your vision about me?” I asked.

Matt didn’t reply.

“Did you notice how fast the pilots are pushing the plane? I've heard the faster the plane goes the more turbulence. I wonder if they’re having trouble keeping the nose up—”

“Be quiet, Ryan,” Matt said, through clenched teeth.

“Tell me what you saw.”

“Gods, you can be frustrating!”

“Tenacious,” I corrected.

“Annoying.”

I narrowed my eyes. I said mildly, “Have you noticed that when the plane shakes it seems like it's going to tear itself apart—”

Matt growled in frustration. “I saw you and Vane. My brother. You and he were… kissing.”

My jaw dropped.

The plane made one final push and leveled out.

“We’re up,” I said.

Matt sat back with a sigh. “Yes.”

I extracted my hand from his grip and took the sick bag from him. I put it back into the pouch. “You didn’t need this.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “No.”

With a grin, I pulled my green music-pod out of my bag and popped matching buds into my ears. I closed my eyes, ready to shut out the world for a little bit.

Matt exhaled loudly. “Not you too. What is with everyone and their gadgets?”

If I’d been chewing gum, I would have smacked it—loudly. I cracked open an eye. “Are you really eighteen?”

Matt’s cheeks flushed. “Quite.”

“Quite,” I mimicked.

With a half-smile, Matt settled back into his seat and looked out the window. I followed his gaze. Outside the bight sky had changed quickly to dark.

Matt’s brow furrowed and a far-away expression took over his chiseled face. I checked the impulse to touch him again. To make sure he was really real. Really there. Really beside me.

I still had the feeling I was going to wake up any second back in bed, back at the manor. That things would be back to what they had been before yesterday. That Alexa would be sleeping just down the hall.

I shook my head as if I could shake straight my fragmented mind.

I looked at the singular Matt Emrys.

“
You
have a brother?”

CHAPTER 6
THE COUNCIL

Except for Matt, whose pallor resembled that of a ghost, the flight went smoothly for everyone. We landed in the mid-afternoon at Gatwick Airport. I had no idea where we were going. The guardians took care of everything. An hour-long train took us into town. We got off at Victoria Station inside the London Underground, a cavernous maze of subways that the locals called the Tube. After a dizzying number of escalators and several train changes, we somehow made it out of the Underground and I found myself staring out at the English countryside as we sat on a long-distance train. A full moon shone down on the Castle Cary train station when we finally stopped. The signs told us we were somewhere near Bristol. Most of us were ready to collapse. I figured it was somewhere around three a.m. in Boston.

Several cars were waiting for us outside the station.

At the sight of them, Grey let out a groan. “How much longer?”

“It’s another ten miles to Glastonbury. The place we’re going is on the far side so another few miles after that,” Matt reassured. “Don’t worry. This ordeal is almost over.”