“If a library doesn’t have enough lighting, do you know what it starts to look like?” Val asked.
A cave, Merlin mouthed, as Val shouted the same thing.
A roar sounded at Merlin’s heels, and he turned with his fingers ready to spark.
“Merlin, stop!” Ari shouted. “They’re looking for me.”
Two young taneens were trailing them, one nipping actively at Val’s shoes, the other looking up at Ari with the boundless love of a baby.
“Are they allowed in the city limits?” Val asked.
“They get a little impatient,” Ari admitted. “I promised to train them for knight camp.”
“You’re not going to have those children fighting dragons, are you?” Merlin asked with a gasp.
“Of course not,” Ari said, scratching the smaller of the taneens until it panted in delight. “They’re going to ride them.”
Merlin’s heart buckled at the thought of such danger. He might be a mage, and finally in control of his buried time powers, but he was no longer tangentially immortal. With Nin gone, there was no one to keep plucking him out of near-death experiences. Someday, he would die. But first he had to live, which meant getting used to a certain number of dangerous ideas, especially with Ari in his life.
“Be back tonight!” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran after the taneens.
“My wife, the sexy dragon trainer,” Gwen said as if presenting her to the whole universe. Then her voice dropped to a confidential tone. “I finally feel like I can let Ari go without worrying I’ll never see her again.”
“Good,” Val said. “Because Troy is a mess and they’re going to need you in full retinue, with the black knight. You should go let Jordan know.”
“Who’s going to run knight camp?” Merlin asked.
“Yaz can take care of it for a few days,” Val said. “Though I have to admit those tiny knights are very attached to Jordan.”
In addition to helping Gwen on her more dangerous diplomatic missions, Jordan had forged another purpose—to train a new generation with honor. So far, most of them were failing due to her impossible standards for swordplay. Merlin had been more than willing to enchant their blades, but Jordan had shot that offer right out of the sky.
Ari grew small in the distance as the taneens took off. She always came back from her training sessions sweating and happy-swearing. “Being a hero looked good on Ari, but I think this is her true form,” Gwen admitted with a quiet glow.
“I don’t think anyone is meant to play the hero forever,” Merlin said.
He thought of Nimue, living out a quiet life in Avalon. Her heroic moment would never be met with parades or universe-wide celebration, but most heroic moments weren’t. Each was a single drop in the great flow of time, but every drop mattered. And the right one, at the right moment, could change the water’s direction entirely.
Ari disappeared, and Merlin wondered how long he had before she returned. He was planning something that required utmost secrecy. He felt the pull to go work on it, but first, there was his actual job to tend to.
Val and Merlin walked back to the great home that used to belong to Ari’s family. She had decided to take a new, smaller home with Gwen, and gifted this palatial dream with its tiled walls and spilling greenery to the city of Omaira as a library.
And she’d put Merlin in charge.
He had entire floors dedicated to myths and legends and their children, fantasy and science fiction. He had a beautiful room filled with books of Old Earth photography. There were dictionaries and encyclopedias and as many cookbooks as he could smuggle, which he kept in what used to be the kitchen, now labeled KAY’S ROOM.
“Much better,” Val said, lighting up the first of the globes as he placed it near the door that led to one of Merlin’s favorite rooms. A very special collection. “I see you’ve expanded the Arthur section again.”
“There are so many versions, I really must be exhaustive!”
“You really must stop time-hopping and stealing books!” Val said. “What if you go back and some caveman whacks you over the head and I never see you again?”
“There’s nothing worth stealing in the Paleolithic,” Merlin said. “So you have nothing to fear. Though, cave paintings are often considered the precursors to the first developments in literacy, and I could do a quick—”
“No!” Val said. “This is already too much.”
“Nobody misses these,” Merlin promised as Val climbed a ladder up the stacks to hang another globe. “I only pinch books nobody is using. And I do good works, too. I rescued quite a lot of manuscripts from the library of Alexandria before it burned down. And I had a lovely chat with the librarian. She wasn’t even worried when I walked out of a black spot in the wall. People in ancient times were much more open to magic.”
“I guess everything goes in cycles, hmm?” Val said, perusing the new selections despite his complaints. “Look at this!” He pulled out a slim volume. “Tolkien wrote an Arthur story?”
Merlin peeked over from where he’d been shelving a delicious new acquisition, a book of short stories by Kat Howard with an Arthurian novella. Nin made an appearance in that one. Morgana was rather central. And the Arthur mantle was taken up by a headstrong college girl with a lovely girlfriend and a very loyal dog. Yes, Ari would enjoy that.
“You know Tolkien?” he asked, as Val paged through the book.
“Of course I know Tolkien,” he said. “Mercer used to sell replicas of that evil ring. They thought it was funny. One company to rule them all.” Val cocked his head. “I just looked into the future and you looked a lot like Gandalf.”
“And?”
“I was into it,” Val said. Merlin blushed his way to the film section. Val rolled the ladder over. “What is this old film you’ve hand-labeled Trash King Arthur?”
“Oh, that one. It’s notable for being as far
