37. Merlin Musing

Merlin, half-incubus, an alien, immortal connoisseur of emotions, knew from the outside the flavors of anger, of jealousy, of envy and of desire. When he'd realized that Serendipity had resorted to fooling around with Hyde, he'd tasted all four. He didn't know where they'd come from. But the regret that had flowed over him after that dark jolt… that was his. He owned it. He knew.

At least it wasn't the peculiar hurt Artoria brought him. And there was no point in blaming Serendipity for his own mistakes. But he was glad to step beyond her too-seeing eyes for a moment all the same. He slid between the layers of illusion that surrounded them all, until he was safely hidden from all eyes Servant or magus.

Illusion and delusion: a dual-lobed deception carefully crafted to keep its victims comfortable as they were used to siphon off their world's energy. A vast project involving hundreds of magi of every experience level, it was far more complex than the Grail War it was weakly attempting to simulate. That wouldn't go anywhere, of course, but he was certain that given the time they'd work it out and add it to their repetoire of energy processing tools.

Not that he cared one way or another if they did. They'd provided an attractive diversion at a time when he'd wanted some distance from Serendipity and her effect on him, that was all. He'd gone along with the force trying to steal him away as a break, a change, a chance for perspective. And it had all been pointless because he'd constructed his entire escape scenario around her. He'd spent that day of dream-life eager for her appearance, for the opportunity to make her smile at him again as she'd smiled at him in the castle courtyard.

Idiotic, that. He'd constructed the key to his awakening around her outrage, not her smile. If she'd smiled at him, he might have stayed there forever.

The vast illusion commanded by the Master of the Raven Tower had been constructed of many, many layers that fit together like a complex pop-up book. Merlin absently devoured one of them just to weaken the structure of the spell, and tasted the bitter flavor of long and fruitless work. This second world, full of clever, scrupulous people, was interesting, no doubt, and in a different situation he'd happily take advantage of the breakthrough to have an adventure.

In fact, he'd done so occasionally before he'd accepted the imprisonment in Avalon. Once he'd avoided Morgan le Fay that very way. She'd been very eager to make him taste the flavors Serendipity had evoked.

Or had it been another woman?

It hardly mattered now. He wasn't what he'd been in those days. Once he'd wondered but now he knew: nothing living remained the same forever, not even him. Change had crept over him, so subtly he had trouble distinguishing what had altered… but that he'd changed was undeniable all the same. Regret told him that.

Merlin followed the flow of the illusion to the center, where the human child bound by the dark fairy anchored the entire spell. The dark fairy rode the child's back, with its own hands sunk into the child's chest in an impossible melding of flesh.

Settling his spirit form near the kid, Merlin observed the qualities of the binding magic and the illusion magic, making a few tiny adjustments. The fairy's eyes narrowed and the tendons in its arms tightened as if it clenched its fists within the boy's flesh. The boy trembled and Merlin tweaked the magic again.

Among other things, his tweak was a summons, and as expected, the Master of Raven Tower appeared before him: two men standing back to back, bound even more inextricably together than the fairy and the child. The taller of the men, Jonathan, said wistfully, "You're going to leave us, then?" and Merlin once again tasted that bitter flavor of fruitless work.

"I couldn't save your world," Merlin said lightly. "Only make its disintegration more pleasant. You'd hate me by the end."

"You've saved other worlds," countered Jonathan.

But Merlin shook his head. "Fewer than you imagine. Even in your world, it wasn't I who saved Britain." He put his hand on the child's head. "Now. She'll come for him before she's done. Treasure the knowledge you've gained thus far. You won't get much else." He started to move away and then turned back. "Oh yes. Since you consider yourself a gentleman, do get your people out of harm's way. I wouldn't want to break them."

Jonathan inclined his head, without any sign of the frustration Merlin could taste so readily. An intriguing entity, one Merlin would enjoy speaking with more another time. But not now. Instead he returned to the vicinity of Serendipity, loitering in the layer right beyond human sight to study her.

Although she had a strong and healthy body for a human, the spirit within it glittered and shifted unevenly. Sometimes it blinded him, and sometimes it was as dim as an animal's, but always it seemed to him fragile, as fragile as her body. When he imagined her in the arms of a brute like Hyde, he worried. He'd need to find her somebody nice. Somebody gentle. Somebody more like Jekyll without the inner demon.

He considered her other Servants briefly.

Cú Chulainn? The very idea irritated Merlin, a sensation he'd become quite familiar with since joining Serendipity. He'd learned not to bother trying to analyze why, lest he make everything worse.

Anyhow, when one took fighting and sex out of the picture, the Hound of Chulainn was far too dull for Serendipity. REJECTED.

Astolfo? Like Jekyll, he'd be gentle, and he was very skilled in romance—but also like Jekyll, other aspects of his personality automatically disqualified him. REJECTED.

The so-called Count of Monte Cristo…? Merlin had felt his touch on the layers of illusion even when he'd been blinded by his own dream. The Avenger observed from somewhere nearby. He'd have to evaluate the man more when they met again. That would happen soon enough, as soon as the Avenger's energy had drained away. Hmm…

Merlin lingered, musing on Serendipity's love life a while longer, as he'd once mused on the affairs of the Knights of the Round Table and the Paladins of Charlemagne. He liked seeing a well-executed love story, just as other men enjoyed a fine wine. If he could arrange that for his protégé, perhaps that black jolt that had snapped him free of the delusion would never reoccur.

She'd need somebody gentle and patient, yet clever and witty. Strong. Protective. Wise. Powerful and empowering. Attractive. Somebody who would make her laugh, and never, ever break her heart. Somebody she'd cling to as they kissed her…

A paragon, in other words. And he, Merlin, her Zeroth Servant, simply wouldn't accept anything less.

Having reached this pleasant conclusion, he rematerialized just outside the lecture hall in the same suit he'd been wearing, fluffed his hair, checked his cuffs and then peeked in through the door. "Well? How long are you going to keep me waiting out here? Ritsu and Jack are still lost, you know."

Serendipity's eyes flashed as she glared at him and strode over to the door. He let a grin curl his mouth. By the old gods, even taking into account the flashes of irritation and regret, she delighted him. She was absolutely his favorite new toy. The sharp edges just added to the fun.

Hyde and Astolfo fell in behind her, and Hyde gave him a particularly hostile look before lowering his head to sniff Serendipity's hair, his hands brushing her waist. Merlin met his gaze, intending to smirk. Instead that unwelcome black cocktail of flavors jolted through him again.

The magus turned quickly away. Hyde definitely had to go, or be replaced.

But Serendipity caught the sleeve of Merlin's jacket as she said sharply, "Don't run away again!" When he raised his eyebrows at her, she flushed and said, "Whatever's going on, don't run away again. I need you. Help us all get out of this Wonderland and you can tease me however you like."

Hyde's eyes narrowed, while Astolfo yelped, "Master! That's not—"

Merlin took her hand off his jacket sleeve and laced his fingers through hers. "Oh, don't worry, Astolfo. It's not like I've been waiting for her permission to do that." Her hand, small against his own, tightened, and he adroitly dodged her kick to his shins without releasing her. "Ren! You shock me! Didn't you just say you needed me? How much help would I be if you broke my leg?"

He brought her hand to his mouth, keeping one eye on Hyde's knife, and kissed her fingers. "You may not accept being my fiancée but I've accepted you as my Master, Ren. I won't run away again. I'm sorry I did so in the first place."

Although he said the words lightly, her eyes widened anyhow, and he knew she'd once again seen beyond his smile. So be it. When he'd arrived by her side, he'd had no idea what the invitation he'd accepted would bring, only that for an unknown time it would fill his world. He knew now of both the sharp edges and the delight, and he accepted it willingly.

He really would have to find that paragon, though. He didn't like those dark jolts at all.