“Can I at least put on some real clothes this time?”
Charlie giggled. “Just hurry. I don’t like to keep this fellow waiting.”
“Who is he?” Brendan asked, reaching for a sweatshirt.
“You’ll see.”
Brendan hesitated before taking off his pyjama bottoms. “Do you mind?”
“Don’t worry.” Charlie smiled. “I won’t laugh.”
“Just turn around!”
“Fine.” And she did.
Brendan pulled on his jeans, grabbed his jacket, and slid open the top drawer of his dresser. BLT was curled up in a nest of socks and underpants. He gently lifted the little Faerie in his palm.
“Wha?” BLT mumbled. “What’s happening?”
“We’re going out,” Brendan whispered.
She shook her head. “Wake me when it’s summer.”
When he was ready, Charlie eased the window open. Brendan scooped BLT into his coat pocket and leapt out into the night.
The city, muffled under a fall of new snow, was as quiet as it ever got. The yellow light of the street lamps shone down on the pair as they trotted easily through the streets. Tweezers ran ahead, leaping and rolling in the soft snow, pausing every few seconds to stare back at them, whiskers twitching. They made their way through the park again, passing the outdoor skating rink, its glassy surface glimmering faintly with reflected moonlight.
“Where are we going?” Brendan asked.
“Not far,” Charlie answered. She smiled cryptically and picked up her pace. Brendan matched it easily. He was beginning to discover how close to the surface his power lurked, like water flowing under the ice of a frozen river. He could break through more easily now. Was it just practice? Or did the presence of Charlie make it easier?
He looked over at her face as she ran, her prominent nose and pale cheeks flushed with the cold and exertion. Her profile was strong and angular, like one of those portraits from the Renaissance painters.^ 45 She was smiling slightly, breathing through her open mouth, sending out gusts of frosted air and running through them. She sensed him looking at her and turned her blue eyes toward him. “Are you all right?”
He nodded and smiled.
She smiled back. “I’m sorry for my moment of weakness.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Brendan laughed. “My whole life is a string of them.”
She grinned.
They left the park and turned onto Queen Street. Charlie slowed and came to a stop in front of the steamy window of a twenty-four-hour doughnut shop. Brendan had often passed it but had never gone in. The shop had always looked a little seedy in the daylight, but now, glowing with warm yellow light, it appeared cozy and inviting. The window was painted in swirling letters surrounded by shooting stars.
COSMIC DOUGHNUTS OUT OF THIS WORLD 24 HRS A DAY!
“Here we are.”
“A doughnut shop?”
She opened the door, sketching a mock bow. “Apres vous, monsieur!”
Brendan stepped past her into the warmth of the shop.
Before him a glass counter with metal racks displayed a few lonely fritters. More racks held an assortment of doughnuts. Two pots of coffee simmered on burners, one decaf and one regular. On a stool by the counter, a man wearing an oldfashioned paper busboy’s hat sat reading a newspaper. He looked up when Brendan and Charlie came in.
“Hello.” He set aside the paper. “Pardon me, but ain’t you two a little young to be out and about at this hour?”
“They’re with me!” a voice announced from a booth near the window. Brendan looked over and saw an old man in a woollen suit with a herringbone check pattern. A flat cap lay on the table beside an open box of doughnuts and a steaming cup of coffee. On the bench beside him a dark overcoat was folded neatly. A walking stick made of polished wood leaned against the seat.
He smiled when Brendan looked at him.
“I know you!” Brendan cried. “I saw you in the Hot Pot!”
“Yes.” The old man nodded. “I couldn’t help myself. I had to get a look at you.”
His face was a nest of wrinkles over strong cheekbones. A neatly trimmed grey beard brushed the front of his worn linen shirt, and his sky-blue eyes were clear and sharp. They held Brendan in their grasp and didn’t let him go as he crossed the floor and slid into the bench opposite.
Brendan had never seen an old Faerie before. Certainly, Ariel was ancient. Ariel had an aura, a gravity, as though the years crowded around him, but in appearance he seemed no older than Brendan’s dad or mum. The Faerie sitting across from him was elderly. Thick purple veins crawled over the backs of his liver-spotted hands. His white hair was thinning on top, and his shoulders were slightly stooped. But for all his aged appearance, the man didn’t seem the least bit frail. Somehow, his age was his power, and Brendan felt the weight of it bearing down on him.
Charlie stooped and kissed his wrinkled cheek. “Mon Seigneur, bienvenue.”
The old Faerie reached up and ran the back of his fingers against her rosy cheek. “Ma belle Charles. I’ve missed you.”
Charlie sat down beside Brendan. “Here he is. Brendan Morn.”
“Hello there, my lad.” The man turned his smile on Brendan. Those blue eyes looked him up and down before resting on his face. “I see old Briach in you, and your mother, too.”
“You knew them?”
“Oh, yes. He was a handful. She was a sweet thing.”
“Uh… ” Brendan suddenly felt awkward. “You know who I am but… ”
“But who am I?” The old man smiled. “Forgive me. Very rude. My name is Merddyn. At least in the Old Tongue, that is my name. It means ‘hawk.’ You might know me by a more popular name: Merlin.”
“Merlin?” Brendan croaked. “You’re Merlin?”
“Yes.”
“The Merlin? The wizard Merlin? Sword in the stone Merlin?”
“Guilty! Though it wasn’t a stone, really. It was an anvil. Still, that was me.”
“I can’t believe it,” Brendan said softly. “You’re the Ancient One Greenleaf was talking about. Charlie’s teacher.”
Merlin nodded. “Would you like a doughnut?”
Never in his wildest imaginings had Brendan ever thought he might be sitting in the presence of the legendary Merlin. Never in his most bizarre dreams had he ever imagined that the greatest wizard in history and counsellor of King Arthur would be offering him a doughnut.
“Uh,” Brendan finally managed. “A doughnut?”
“You do like doughnuts, don’t you?” Merddyn asked. “I mean, as a pastry, they are quite delightful. Consider their variety: so many types to choose from. I am partial to the Hawaiian, myself. All those different-coloured sprinkles. Truly spectacular! Though I don’t see why it’s called Hawaiian. There’s no pineapple in it at all. Or poi. Or roast pig, for that matter. Still, one shouldn’t question perfection. And consider its shape.” He nimbly plucked a plain doughnut from the box and held it in his long fingers. “A circle: the symbol of eternity. One wonders if the Humans realized this when they chose the shape or whether they stumbled upon it by accident, as they so often do. Creatures of instinct, are Humans. Why not make doughnuts square, one might ask? They’d certainly fit better in a box.”
Merddyn shrugged and, chuckling, bit into the doughnut with his strong white teeth. Brendan didn’t know what to say. He watched as the old Faerie chewed happily, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin.
“Are those doughnuts?” Brendan had forgotten all about BLT. She was hanging out of his pocket, eyes wide as saucers. He could practically feel her blood fizzing with desire.
“Oh no you don’t… ” Brendan began, but Merddyn waved a hand. He broke the doughnut in two and gave half
