Merlin's Secret (A Broken Throne Novella) Page 4

  Ricky looked up at Artos and nodded.

  Artos continued, talking in a low, soothing voice. He reached out with his magic, using mender weaves to calm the boy. “She wanted you to live, to reach Liverpool and have the chance at a better life. You’ve done that. You will travel away from here, and start fresh in the United Americas. You’ll never have to face people like that again.”

  Ricky wiped the straggling tears and handed the handkerchief back to Artos.

  He slipped a hand around the child, pulling him closer, hoping to settle him down. The boy stiffened, so Artos released him. His mender magic was still at work, and Artos was attuned to Ricky’s inner turmoil.

  The boy had powerful abilities, and they were nothing compared to his emotions. The blend was risky in a normal chanter. In this boy, with his power, it could be cataclysmic. If not for the prophecy, Artos would have changed his mind.

  But now, because of it, he was determined to help Ricky fight for control.

  If Ricky truly was the child promised by Merlin’s prophecy, then Artos had to prepare him for their inevitable future. The magic was receding. The collapse here in Europe would spread across to the Americas eventually.

  Artos had to help the chanters in the UA prepare. He also was committed to helping Ricky prepare to undertake the mantle of responsibility that would fall on his shoulders when the time came.

  Mr. Gunderson returned with a stack of folded wool blankets. The Swede had even found three old feather pillows in his quest for their bedding.

  “Good man, Gunderson,” Artos praised his assistant.

  “The harbormaster keeps a store of bedding for his staff when stormy weather strikes so they can manage the ships in the harbor overnight. He was more than happy to offer these to us. He’s keeping his staff on hand tonight, too, for the same reasons we’re staying.”

  “I suppose we should make our arrangements for the night,” Artos suggested. “It will be nightfall soon, and the mayor will begin cycling the power grid to selectively shut down areas overnight. We should be prepared for things before it gets dark. Ricky, why don’t you help Mr. Gunderson lay out our makeshift bedrolls?”

  Artos watched them set to work, then turned to survey the crowd still pressing at the gates outside. They were slightly subdued after the strange tremor, but Ricky’s attack had not made them leave.

  If anything, it proved that they had to get on those boats. Artos imagined what the city would be like once the ships left the harbor, taking any hope of rescue.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the evening’s darkest thought.

  CHAPTER 6

  Two days later, Artos and his companions stood at the stern of the last ship to leave Europe’s shores. He watched the desperate throngs of people rushing the pier as the ships cast off, before they turned on one another.

  The mob turned ugly, attacking any uniformed person they could find, as if the police or soldiers were to blame for the collapse of civilization itself. Images like this were being shared around the world. Artos couldn’t forget if he tried.

  He looked down at Ricky, who was standing beside him. The boy shrugged then turned his back on the people on the docks.

  Sure, he equated that mob to the ones who killed his mother. But Artos was concerned by the boy’s lack of empathy. He would have to delve into his mind tonight, try to find a course of treatment that might remedy his broken psyche.

  The three of them stood there until the harbor was out of sight, slipping over the horizon to the east. Ricky sat at Artos’s feet, reading a book from Artos’s personal collection.

  The crowd of passengers thinned as people returned to their berths. Artos decided it was time for them to return to theirs as well. He’d secured first class accommodations. A perk, as organizer of this particular humanitarian mission. Most of the ship’s passengers were confined below decks in the second and third class cabins and bunk rooms.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Artos said. “Today, we leave the old world for a new one. Today, we focus on our mission to help humanity reset its future.”

  “What do you mean, Mr. Merrilyn?” Ricky asked.

  “I mean, my lad, that you can be anything you want. What happened in the past does not define who you must become. You get to start over in life. That is something not many people get to do.”

  Ricky looked thoughtful.

  Artos said, “What is it you wish to do? I have substantial resources at my disposal in Baltimore. I can help you on your way to a better life if you choose to remain in my service once we arrive.”

  Ricky looked around at the people wandering away to their cabins. It took him a moment to find the right answer, then he finally whispered, “I want to learn to use my magic. But I don’t want anyone to know that I have it. That’s what killed my mother. People knew what she could do and they hated her for it.”

  “I already promised to teach you. If you choose to hide your remarkable talent, then that is your choice. I won’t betray your secret to others if that is your wish. You have my word.”

  Artos rarely made oaths, but this felt necessary. Ricky represented so much promise to set things right with the world. And yet, a nagging worry ticked at the back of his mind.

  “Come, let us go back to our cabin. Mr. Gunderson will fetch us some lunch while we start honing and tempering your skills. You have considerable power, but not the control required to manage it. If you’re planning to hide your power, you must learn to control it first. We’ll work on that.”

  While Gunderson went to get food, Artos led Ricky to the cabin and, once inside, sat him on the small desk chair. It was time to see what he could do. But first, some questions.

  “Ricky, you said your mother could sense the magic failing. She knew the two of you had to leave England?”

  Ricky squirmed a bit, but nodded. Despite the terrible memories, this was important. It had been a long while since Artos had seen anyone so in tune with the magic. The last had been his mentor, Merlin, many years before.

  “I’m going to place my hands on your head so I can try and help you, so that maybe you won’t feel as much pain and sadness inside. Is that alright?”

  Ricky nodded and Artos reached out to the boy.

  He murmured a few words under his breath, using his healing ability to delve into the child’s mind. He sought to settle a sense of calm over Ricky, help him reach the meditative state needed for the next part.

  “Try closing your eyes and using your inner senses to look for the threads of magic that surround us.”

  Artos waited until Ricky closed his eyes.

  “Reach out with your magical senses. See the threads here, then follow them back to their source.”

  Artos continued to apply gentle suggestions with his words and magic.

  Slowly, Ricky drifted. His breathing settled. Deep and even. A peaceful calm settled over the boy.

  “Ricky, tell me what you see.”

  “I see a still pond, or maybe a small lake. There are trees surrounding it, and mist and mossy green growth down to the water’s edge. Waves of power are rolling off of the trees.”

  Artos nodded. This was good. Ricky was seeing a vision of magic’s true source, in a frame his child’s mind could understand.

  “Describe the trees to me. What do they look like?”

  “Not all the trees are the same. Some are stunted and dead looking. There is no power coming from them. The others seem to sway away from them, as if they are afraid to catch what has killed them.”

  “What about the power coming from the trees, Ricky? You said that your mother could sense the magic failing. Can you see anything that tells you the same thing?”

  “It’s not just the dead trees that are sick and dead. The other trees are sick, too. Their limbs are all dead or dying. Magic from those branches isn’t flowing like the others. It’s sputtering, like a candle with a wet wick. Sparks from the dying branches drift out, as if carried on a breeze. When they touch other branches or leaves, they c
ause brown spots. Someday, all the trees will become infected and die.”

  A thought occurred to Artos. The boy had so much power. Perhaps this was a chance to try and fix what was wrong.

  “Ricky, I want you to concentrate and try to do what I show you.” Artos closed his eyes and again delved into the boy’s mind.

  Now he was standing alongside the boy in the forest glade by the lake. The place felt ancient, yet strangely familiar. Looking around, Artos saw the same things that Ricky had described. The rot was spreading to the healthy trees.

  Ricky looked up at Artos, smiling. He didn’t seem surprised at all to see the older man suddenly standing beside him, here in this place.

  Artos pointed to a nearby tree, more than half its branches withered from the rot. “Ricky, go to that dying tree over there and push a flow into the tree’s heart. Not a lot. Just a little. We want to see if we can heal the trees here, if we can help them grow the magic back.”

  Artos watched as the lad approached a tree. It was dying, the only leaves on its few living branches barely green at all. They were covered by dark brown and yellow blotches. Ricky put both hands on the tree, and as Artos watched, he sent a small flow of magic into the trunk’s bark, and into the tree’s center.

  It took a moment, but then it seemed to be working. Artos could see some of the leaves turning greener. He smiled as hope for a possible solution welled within him.

  Then something changed.

  The spreading green stopped and the rot spread again. All the leaves turned completely brown and started to fall from the branches.

  Artos looked down at Ricky, still standing there, his hands to the bark. Using his magical sight, Artos saw that the flows from the boy had reversed. He watched in horror as Ricky drew in all the tree’s energy until the flickering magical light at its center died completely.

  Artos pulled himself from the boy’s mind then snapped his fingers to draw Ricky out of his trance. He hadn’t expected the boy to do what he had done in the forest.

  Ricky blinked as he emerged from the meditative trance, looking around the room as he slowly recovered.

  “Ricky, what have you done?” Artos asked. “I told you to infuse the tree with healing magic, not draw the magic from it.”

  “The old tree was dying. If I didn’t take its magic, it would’ve been lost forever. And that would have been a waste.”

  “That is forbidden. You killed one of the life-giving trees of Avalon.”

  “I didn’t want the magic to be wasted.” Ricky shrugged. “If the tree couldn’t live on with it, I thought it would be better with me.”

  “Ricky, that was the center of magic on this Earth. A teacher, long ago, told me of that place. Those trees and that lake, they should not be able to die. They are the source of magic for all mankind, for the whole world.”

  “Mother said the magic was failing. I guess she was right.”

  The door opened before Artos could utter a word.

  Mr. Gunderson returned with plates of hot roast beef, gravy, and thick slabs of wheat bread. He also had two steins of good stout beer on the tray, as well as a cold glass of milk for Ricky.

  The boy smiled when Mr. Gunderson set the tray on the stateroom’s small table. Without waiting for permission, Ricky started on one of the plates, eating as if the food would disappear if he didn’t finish fast enough.

  Artos watched him for a moment before he finally sighed and picked up a plate of his own.

  The boy was going to require a lot of work. He was flawed in a way that Artos had never seen before. He must repair that flaw, or the prophecy would never come to pass.

  And then, the world would die.

  CHAPTER 7

  Ricky stepped through the grand doors of Mender’s Hall in Baltimore and looked up at the bright blue sky above, smiling as he clapped his hands together. Today was his birthday. To celebrate, Artos had released him from his afternoon duties.

  He thought about the last six years living with Artos, acting as his protege, learning at his side. The old man had taught Ricky many things about magic. And in addition to those official lessons, Ricky had learned other things—hiding his true feelings deep inside where no one could see was foremost among them.

  In the early days of their training sessions, Artos grew upset whenever he sensed Ricky’s troubled thoughts. But in time, he’d learned to cover those thoughts with an overlay designed to please his mentor.

  On the outside, Ricky knew he portrayed the best that Artos thought he could be, but inside, Ricky Canter had never changed at all. He had never forgotten his mother, or the lessons he’d learned during their flight to Liverpool.

  Ricky hid those thoughts from his teacher, using the old man to learn all that he could. This was always about gaining more power. Ricky refused to be powerless.

  That was why he’d started running charms for Artos’s underground organization, learning the ropes of a new system of power. Now, he’d become one of the city’s most powerful runners, despite his youth.

  Ricky liked the attention. But most of all, he liked the money and influence it earned him. Running allowed him to do things like rent out the hidden townhouse and its basement room, where he went to work his experiments, learning to demand more power from the world around him.

  In addition to his experiments, Ricky surrounded himself with powerful people who might prove themselves useful. First among these was a young woman by the name of Ellie — a young chanter, adept at creating powerful charms on objects of all types and sizes. Her work was well respected, and she’d taught Ricky many of the tricks she used to create her own amazing work.

  In exchange for her knowledge, Ricky had taken Ellie under his wing. Over recent months, the two of them had become a couple. Ricky even looked forward to the time when they would grow powerful enough to challenge Artos for control of his underworld empire. With Ellie’s abilities and his power, Ricky would become the most powerful boss in the UA.

  He looked at the doorman standing outside Mender’s Hall, still smiling. “It’s a beautiful day today, Grant. It’s my birthday, you know.”

  “Happy birthday, sir,” the doorman replied. “Do you have any special plans with your lady friend?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I’m taking her to dinner and then we have some special deliveries to attend to.”

  “Well, good luck to you, sir. I wish you the best on this happy occasion.”

  Ricky nodded then started down the street towards the central residential area of the Enclave. He had told Ellie to be ready at five. With all they had to do later, he didn’t want to be late for dinner.

  Fifteen minutes later, he saw Ellie standing on the front steps of her apartment building, waiting for him to arrive. She was wearing a plain but attractive white dress and sweater.

  Ellie waved when she saw him, stepping off onto the sidewalk and walking to meet him as he rushed towards her.

  “Happy birthday, you,” Ellie said as she wrapped him up in a hug. “I’ve been waiting for this day all week.”

  “Me, too,” Ricky replied, looking her over with a frown. “What, no present?”

  She gave him a playful shove and smiled. “I have a present for you, I just don’t have it with me. I’ll give it to you later, I promise.”

  “A mystery? I like it.” He smiled. “We have reservations in Little Italy. Then, a few deliveries after that. Maybe I’ll get my present then. Care to give me a hint?”

  “Only that I think you’ll like it,” Ellie answered with a twinkle in her eyes. “My parents are out of town, visiting my aunt in Philadelphia. We’ll have the apartment all to ourselves.” She punctuated the last with a sly wink that set his heart pounding.

  “Well, then.” Ricky crooked an elbow. “Shall we go?”

  Ellie slipped her hand through Ricky’s arm and pulled him close. They started towards the small Italian neighborhood that butted up against the chanter Enclave.

  ———

  After dinne
r, Ricky and Ellie set off on their evening rounds, dropping their charms off at homes and businesses around the city. Since the fall of Europe, the United American Government had formed a new body to oversee the use and misuse of magic in the country. They had passed strict new laws on who could and could not possess magic, along with the types of magic it was legal to possess. Charm runners had sprung up to circumvent those laws. While not strictly against the law, the practice of running charms and buying magic items from runners was frowned upon in certain circles. The sale and use of Sable magic — magic that could affect living things directly — was strictly prohibited in any case.

  Before leaving the restaurant, Ricky used a magical overlay he’d learned from Artos to alter his and Ellie’s appearances. He told her that he never wanted anyone to know who he really was. No one must know how much power he possessed. That was a secret known only to Artos, Mr. Gunderson, and now, Ellie.

  Ellie had nodded solemnly when he’d first told her how adamant he was that no one know of his power. She swore an oath: Ellie would tell no one what he showed her. He’d cast a spell during her oath as a safeguard, though he hadn’t told her.

  Despite hiding his appearance, Ricky really didn’t care what anyone thought about his charm running. He sold anything to anyone willing to buy. He joked once to Ellie that he’d sell a school kid a magical bomb if he had enough money. She’d laughed and told him how terrible he was. It was easier to believe that it was just teenage bravado fueling his words.

  Ellie didn’t know the types of things he’d been making for his wealthier clients. There were some truly sick people out there, and Ricky was more than happy to cater to their whims. He never forgot who he sold these Sable items to. That knowledge was power, and it would pay him in interest later.

  They traveled throughout the city, using busses and occasionally taxis to reach each of their drops. The most important was the state senator’s house in the Mount Vernon district, home to the city’s wealthiest citizens. The senator suspected his wife of cheating, and wanted to keep her under his control.