Paths Not Taken

  There was a lot more of this. Nimue chattered away, while Merlin smiled on her indulgently, and the two of them cuddled like teenagers. I didn’t know what to say. This was Nimue? The powerful and crafty witch who stole Merlin’s heart and ran off with it? This cute and harmless little gold-digger? I turned round in my chair to look at Suzie and Tommy, but they were clearly as thrown as I, so I got up, excused myself to Merlin and Nimue, who barely nodded in return, and the three of us retired to another table to think things over. It was clear Merlin wouldn’t be paying us any attention for a while anyway.

  “She seems like a sweet young thing,” said Tommy. “Though I can’t help thinking he’s a bit old for her.”

  “She’s not nearly as helpless as she makes out,” said Suzie. “I’ve seen her sort before, taking some old fool for everything he’s got.”

  “The man’s domestic arrangements are none of our business,” I said firmly. “What matters is that for all his drunken self-pity, that man is clearly still a powerful sorcerer. If anyone in this period can send us further back in Time, it’s him.”

  “But you heard him,” said Tommy. “He doesn’t care about us, or our problems.”

  “Don’t care was made to care,” I said.

  Suzie looked at me for a long moment. “That’s pretty hard-core, even for you, Taylor. I mean, this is Merlin we’re talking about. The Devil’s only begotten son. We don’t have a hope in Hell of compelling him to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “And it occurred to me that since this witch Nimue is obviously quite incapable of stealing Merlin’s heart… maybe we could do it instead. And with the heart in our hands, Merlin would have to do whatever we told him to.”

  They both looked at me like I was crazy.

  “You’re crazy!” said Tommy. “I mean, full-blown out of your head crazy! We’re actually supposed to rip the living heart out of his chest? Merlin? The most powerful sorcerer of this or any other age? You’re crazy!”

  “Don’t hold back, Tommy,” I said. “Tell me what you really think.”

  “Even if we could incapacitate Merlin,” said Suzie, “it would be pretty messy … I’ve removed a few hearts in my time, but I never had to worry about them being in good enough shape to put them back again.”

  “Don’t encourage him,” said Tommy. “We’ll all end up as snot creatures.”

  “It’s not as impractical as it sounds,” I said patiently. “A lot of sorcerers would remove their hearts and hide them elsewhere, behind powerful magical protections, for safekeeping. That way, no matter what happened, they couldn’t be killed as long as the heart was still safe. Using the correct rites, Merlin’s heart can be removed without killing him, and once we have it, we’ll be in control. Look—we know someone’s going to steal the heart, at some stage. Why not us? We’ll do less damage with it than most.”

  “I don’t like this,” Tommy said flatly. “I really don’t like this. In fact, I straight out hate it.”

  “He’s got a point,” said Suzie. “If we interfere in the Past…”

  “Who’s interfering?” I said. “We know someone took Merlin’s heart. We’ve all seen the hole in his chest. You could say by doing this, we’re helping to reinforce the Present we came from.”

  “I don’t care,” Tommy said stubbornly. “This isn’t right. We’re using the man, maybe even killing him, just to get what we want.”

  “What we need,” I said. “We have to stop Lilith, by whatever means, to save the Nightside, and probably the world as well.”

  “But… what about this, as another alternative,” said Tommy, leaning eagerly forward across the table. “Remember the knights in armour we saw in Old Father Time’s Waiting Room? The ones from a future where Camelot and its dream still held sway? What if we are here … to bring about that future? We have a chance to change everything. Camelot doesn’t have to fall, here and now. If Merlin never lost his heart, and most of his power… maybe we could bring him back to sanity and pride. Give him a reason to live again. We could tell him what’s coming, warn him of the Dark Ages that will last for almost a thousand years, if he doesn’t act to prevent it. Advised by us, he could rise to power and influence again, and backed by him, Camelot could rebuild itself. King Arthur’s legacy could continue!”

  “Advised by us,” I said. “Don’t you mean, advised by you, Tommy? You’re the one who’s always been fascinated by Arthur, and this time.”

  “All right, why not?” Tommy said defiantly. “I’ve always loved the legends of Camelot. It was a better world under Arthur, and a brighter world, than we have ever known before or since! Think of what fifteen centuries of progress under Arthur’s legacy could bring about… Maybe we wouldn’t even need a Nightside any more.”

  “You’re reaching now,” I said. “We have to stick with what we know. We know Lilith is planning to destroy the Nightside, and most likely the rest of the world with it. I’ve seen that future, Tommy, and I’m ready to do anything at all to prevent it. That world is every nightmare you’ve ever had, Tommy. If you’d seen it…”

  “But I haven’t,” said Tommy. “No-one has, but you. And we only have your word.”

  “Don’t go there, Tommy,” said Suzie, her voice cold and hard.

  “Lilith’s plans threaten all the Nightsides,” I said. “Remember what Old Father Time said, about all the possible futures narrowing down, till we end up with the one, inevitable future? That’s why we have to do this, Tommy. And I can’t do it without your help. Merlin’s bound to have set up incredibly powerful defenses, to protect him while he’s drunk or otherwise incapable. I can use my gift to find them, but I don’t have anywhere near enough power to push them aside or shut them off. But you … can use your gift to confuse the defenses long enough for us to slip past them and do what we have to do.”

  Tommy stared at me for a long time, and I couldn’t read his face at all. He’d stopped using his effete voice. “I never knew you to be this … brutal,” he said finally.

  “Only because I have to be,” I said. “The future depends on me; and needs must when the devil drives.”

  “Or the Devil’s son,” he said, and I had to wonder whether he meant Merlin or me. He slowly sat back in his chair again. “What are we going to do with the heart, afterwards?”

  “Well, we can’t just hand it back,” I said. “Merlin would find some way to kill us all, no matter what we’d agreed. No, I think we hide it somewhere safe, then tell Nimue where we put it, after we’ve safely disappeared into the Past.”

  “We’re bringing the witch into this?” said Suzie. “That simpering little airhead?”

  “We need her,” I said. “There’s no way Merlin will ever relax while we’re around, but he’ll never see it coming from Nimue.”

  “Why should she help us?” said Tommy, frowning.

  I smiled. “The day I can’t outmaneuver a gold-digger like her is the day I’ll retire. You aren’t the only one who can talk people into things, Tommy.”

  “True,” said Suzie. “You may be existential, Tommy, but Taylor is a crafty bastard.”

  “Thank you, Suzie,” I said. “I think. All we have to do is convince the witch to slip a little something into Merlin’s drink so he passes out sooner rather than later. That sound like a plan to everyone?”

  “Sounds like a sneaky and underhanded plan to me,” said Suzie. “I’m in. After we’ve taken his heart out… can I try shooting him, just to see what happens?”

  “No,” I said.

  “You’re no fun any more, Taylor.”

  I looked at Tommy. “Are you in, or not?”

  “Reluctantly,” he said at last. “And with grave reservations. But yes, I’m in. It seems dreams have no place in the real world.”

  “Stick to being existential,” I said kindly. “You’re much better off, not being sure about things.”

  So we sat, and watched Merlin drink. Hours passed, and he was still putting it away,
with Nimue’s enthusiastic help and bubbly company. But finally the sorcerer reached a point where he stopped raising his goblet to his lips and simply sat staring at nothing. Even Nimue couldn’t get a response out of him. Interestingly enough, once she was sure he was out of it, she turned off the charm and leaned back in her chair, kicking her heels sulkily; and then she jumped up out of her chair and flounced off to the bar for a refill. Where I happened to be waiting, ready to buy her a drink of something expensive. I smiled at her and complimented her, and she giggled like a teenager on a first date. After a while, I invited her to join our table, and after a quick glance at Merlin to make sure he was still nodding, she trotted over to join us. Her face was flushed from so much drinking, and her hair was a mess, but her speech was still clear. She was enchanted to meet Tommy, but pretty much ignored Suzie. I got a few more drinks into her, then laid out our plan. Nimue didn’t take much convincing. She had the morals of a cat and the brains of a puppy.

  “We need Merlin’s help,” I said, putting it as simply as I could. “But he’s too wrapped up in his own problems to listen. But if we take his heart, he’ll have to listen. And when we have the heart outside his body, and therefore outside his defences, you’ll be able to put a spell on it, so he’ll forget all his worries and care about nothing but you. When you’re finished, you can put the heart back, and everyone will get what they want. What could be simpler, or fairer?”

  Nimue frowned over her drink, trying to concentrate. “The heart could make me powerful… with real magic… But really, I only want my old bear back the way he used to be. You should have seen him in his prime, at Camelot. At the King’s side, where he belonged. They all bowed to him, then. I was never there myself, of course. I was just another dumb little priestess, back then, gathering mistletoe and worshipping the Hecate, the three in one… But I was always good at Seeing from Afar, and Camelot fascinated me. Merlin fascinated me. I watched him at Court, and even then I knew he needed looking after. Needed someone who cared about him. Everyone else put up with him, so they could call on his magic to bail them out when they messed up. When muscular clods in armour weren’t enough to save the day.”

  Her voice was getting blurred as she got more emotional. “Even the King, bless him… even he never really cared about Merlin. Not like I do. Silly little priestess, silly little hedge witch, that’s what they say … but I’m the only one who can reach his heart now… And when I’m powerful, I’ll make them all pay…”

  Her lower lip was trembling by then, and big fat tears ran down her cheeks. I didn’t look round at the others. I already felt guilty enough about taking advantage of an oversized child like Nimue. But it had to be done …

  “So you will help us?” I said. “It’s for the best. Really.”

  “If you say so,” said Nimue. “I’ve always needed other people to tell me what’s for the best.”

  Something in her voice told me that would always be the case. Tommy heard it, too, and glared at me, but I concentrated on the witch.

  “Have you got something you could slip into his drink, Nimue? Something to make him sleep?”

  “Oh sure,” Nimue said off-handedly. “Druids know everything there is to know about potions. I often drug his drink. It’s the only way he can sleep these days. Poor sweetie.”

  And that was it. We waited till the customers had thinned out, and then I bribed Hebe to shut down the bar for a while. It took most of the coins in my purse, particularly when Hebe realised we wanted her to go home early as well, but money talks in the Nightside, as it always had. A few customers didn’t want to go, but Suzie obliged them with a short but instructive example of how a shotgun works, and they couldn’t get out of the bar fast enough. The two smoke ghosts looked at me reproachfully, then faded slowly away, still dancing. The bar seemed so much larger with everyone else gone, and the quiet was actually eerie. Merlin sat slumped and finally sleeping in his chair, while Nimue sat cross-legged in a hastily chalked circle, working a glamour so that no-one outside would be able to tell there was anything unusual going on in the bar. There were an awful lot of people, and others, who would jump at the chance to kill Merlin if they even suspected his defences were down. Suzie guarded the door anyway, while Tommy and I considered the unconscious sorcerer.

  “So,” said Tommy. “How do we do it?”

  “Very carefully,” I said. “If this looks like it’s going wrong, I shall be heading for the nearest horizon, at speed. Try and keep up.”

  “This is a really bad idea,” Tommy said miserably.

  I raised my gift, opening up my third eye, my private eye, and right away I could See all of Merlin’s defences. They lurked around his sleeping form like so many snarling attack dogs, layer upon layer of protective spells and curses, ready to lash out at anything that disturbed them. They stirred uneasily, just from being Seen. I grabbed Tommy by the hand, and at once he could See them, too. He cried out in shock and horror, and tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let him go.

  “Shut up,” I whispered fiercely. “Do you want them to hear you? Now use your gift. Do it!”

  His mouth twisted, like that of a child being punished, but I could feel his gift manifesting. And slowly, one by one, the defences became uncertain about why they were there, and what they were there for, until finally they disappeared back whence they’d come, to have a collective discussion, leaving Merlin sleeping and entirely unprotected. I moved forward quickly. I didn’t know how long the effect would last. I could hear Tommy breathing harshly behind me, concentrating on maintaining his gift so the defences wouldn’t return, while I checked out the sorcerer’s condition.

  His eyes were closed, the leaping flames damped down for the moment. His breathing was steady, though he stirred occasionally in his sleep, as though bothered by bad dreams. I pulled open his scarlet robe, revealing a shaved chest covered in thick, intertwining Druidic tattoos. I hissed for Suzie to come over and join me, and she reluctantly left her post at the door.

  “How do we do this?” I said.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, Taylor. I’ve taken a few hearts, for bounties, but that wasn’t exactly surgery.” She produced a long knife from the top of her knee-length boot, and hefted it thoughtfully. “I’m guessing brute force and improvisation isn’t going to be good enough, this time.”

  “Give me the knife,” I said resignedly. “And go back to guarding the door. Tommy, get over here and help.” “I’ve never done anything like this before,” said Tommy, moving reluctantly forward.

  “I should hope not,” I said. “So, roll up your sleeves, follow my lead, try to help without getting in my way, and if you must puke, try not to get any in the chest cavity.”

  “Oh God,” said Tommy.

  I cut Merlin open from chest to groin, making sure I had a hole big enough to get both hands in. This was no time for keyhole surgery, and anyway, I was betting Merlin would be able to make all necessary repairs once he had his heart back. There was a lot of blood, and sometimes I had to jump back to avoid a sudden jetting gusher. I washed most of it out of the hole with wine, so I could at least see what I was doing. In the end, I had to cut and tear the heart free from its position under the sternum, tugging and pulling with both hands, while blood soaked both my hands up to the elbow, and Tommy said Oh God, Oh God, while he held the other organs back out of my way.

  Finally, I held Merlin’s heart in my hands, a great scarlet lump of muscle. It was bigger than I’d expected, and still beating, gouting thick dark blood. I took it to the next table, and wrapped it carefully in a cloth covered in protective symbols, which Nimue had put together. She was still sitting in her circle, mumbling spells with her eyes closed, so she wouldn’t have to see what was happening. I went back to stand beside Tommy, who was looking at the great bloody hole we’d made and trembling violently. This really wasn’t his kind of case. I clapped him on the shoulder, but he didn’t even look round. Merlin was still breathing steadily, still sleeping, still living. I tried to
push the sides of the wound together, over the mess I’d made, but the hole was too big. In the end, I closed his robes over it.

  “Is it done?” said Suzie, from the doorway. “Have you finished?”

  “Oh yes,” I said. “I don’t think I could do any more damage if I tried.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “It gets easier, the more you do it.”

  I looked across at her sharply and decided not to ask. I didn’t want to know. I pulled Tommy away from the sorcerer, and we cleaned off our hands and arms as best we could with more wine. We couldn’t do anything about our blood-spattered clothes. We didn’t have anything to change into. Hopefully Old Father Time’s glamour would hide the gore from others’ eyes. Tommy looked at me accusingly.

  “Is there anything you won’t do, Taylor? Anyone whose life you won’t ruin, to get revenge on your mother for running off and abandoning you as a child?”

  “That isn’t what this is about!”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No! Everything I’ve done here, and everything I will do, is all about saving the Nightside, and the world! If you’d seen what I’ve seen…”

  “But we haven’t. And you won’t tell us about it. Why is that, Taylor? What are you keeping from us? Are we supposed to take your word and trust you?”

  “Yes,” I said, holding his angry gaze with mine.

  “And why the hell should I do that?” said Tommy.

  “Because he is John Taylor,” said Suzie, coming over from the door, with her shotgun in her hands. “And he has earned the right to be trusted.”

  “Of course you’d support him,” Tommy said bitterly. “You’re his woman.”

  Suzie stopped, then laughed briefly. “Oh, Tommy, you don’t know anything, do you?”

  And that was when the door slammed open behind her, and a huge blocky man in chain mail stormed into the bar. He had that functional compact musculature that comes from constant hard use and testing, rather than working out, and his ragged chain mail and the leather armour under it had the signs of long use and hard wear. He had a square, blocky, almost brutal face, marked with scars that had healed crookedly. His mouth was a flat line, his eyes cold and determined. In one hand he carried a huge mace with a vicious spiked head. I’d never seen a more dangerous-looking man in my life.