Midnight End

11

“Pack what? I have everything I need right here.” He lifted his palms face-up to indicate himself. I rolled my eyes. “I’ve got news for you, Toto. You aren’t a dog anymore. Unless you can still sprout claws and fur, you might want to pack a knife and a blanket, at the very least.” He hefted his large frame off the sofa and stepped close enough that I had to crane my neck up at him as he spoke. “It warms my heart to hear you’re worried about me, but I’ll be just fine.” “Ugh! You wish.” I narrowed my eyes at the overgrown buffoon. “I just don’t want to end up carrying your dead weight. You want to travel unprepared, fine. Let’s go.” I whipped around, heading straight for the door, ignoring his thunderous laugh behind me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever met a man or creature who managed to agitate me to the degree Knight did on a regular basis. He was as thick-headed as a woodpecker on a metal lamppost. Even more infuriating, I got the feeling he dug his heels in deeper just for my benefit. Why be obliging when he could resist and revel in my irritation? It was a power play. Each little move was his way of asserting power over me. What he seemed to forget was just how easily those tables could turn. There was a delicate balance to power. One misstep and the scales could tilt from one side to the other, and I was good at tipping scales. It would require subtlety and finesse; Knight wasn’t the type to be bulldozed. Lucky for me, I could do finesse—as long as I didn’t kill him first. “You think Merlin won’t know what we’re up to?” he asked from a couple steps behind me on our walk to the wall. The Faery suns were warming the morning air on what promised to be a gorgeous day. I had hoped to enjoy the walk in silence, but it seemed that was not an option. “You think he cares?” I mumbled back. “He spent two decades plotting to capture you. I’d say that’s some pretty substantial evidence the man cares.” “There’s never any telling what goes on in that head of his.” “If there’s anyone who would know, it’s you. You should know him better than anyone, being his apprentice and all.” “At this point, you’ve spent more time with him than I ever did,” I scoffed as I glanced back to him. “Regardless, I don’t think anyone truly knows the man. Even during the height of his love affair with my mother, he only ever offered her scraps of himself. We never knew when he would visit us, how long he would stay, or what he was up to when he was away. When I asked my mother why he didn’t just live with us, she said it was important for a man like Merlin to have a certain degree of freedom. While he was on one of his regular trips, enjoying his freedom, my mother was attacked and killed. Maybe if he had been willing to give up a little of his precious independence, he would have been there the day his sister came calling.” My pace down the path quickened as my tirade built up steam. I hadn’t meant to unload my baggage onto Knight—Merlin was a sensitive subject for me. Having a neutral discussion about him was a challenge. Knight kept pace with his long-legged strides, catching up to walk beside me. “He’s an important man with unique abilities. In my experience, Merlin is like those Buddhist monks who can make enormous sand murals. You and I see the individual grains of sand, but he sees the picture as a whole. Sometimes, he just gets lost in the task of ensuring the image turns out correctly.” “When I was younger, I used to feel the same,” I explained. “But over time, I realized that it’s not an excuse. Everyone feels their own life is particularly busy and complicated—that doesn’t give us the right to abandon our responsibilities.” Knight was quiet for a long minute, forcing me to take a hesitant glance at him. His face was inscrutable as he walked, eyes down on the path before us. “That’s a rather surprising take for someone who instigates rebellions and murders anyone who gets in her way. You want him to take responsibility for the consequences of his actions, but what about you? What about the people who have died because of your choices?” He thought I was a hypocrite—that I was too focused on my rebellion to see the casualties. Just because I made the difficult decision to proceed knowing there would be casualties didn’t mean I was oblivious. It meant I had the guts to make the hard decisions few others could stomach. What greater good had been served when my mother was taken? None. Merlin had simply been too busy to bother with us. “Who said I wasn’t aware?” I bit back at him. “I never said I was perfect, but then again, I don’t believe we were talking about me. I was merely explaining to you why Merlin is a crapshoot. You may think he’s reliable, but I know better. It’s entirely possible we make it back from this little jaunt and find him none the wiser.” “I’d say he does the best he can,” Knight continued to argue. I pulled up short, hands going to my hips as I glared at him. “Not long after Merlin made me his apprentice, he took me with him into the depths of the Shadow Lands—the place grown men fear to go. I was thirteen. He needed to negotiate with a Nuckalavee for something, so he left me outside the creature’s cave to wait until he had finished. As if taking me to the doorstep of one of the most dangerous Shadow Fae alive wasn’t enough, he left me alone. I was attacked by a group of Draugs and thought I was going to die. Any adult in their right mind would have known not to take a child on such an errand, but not Merlin. Was abandoning me in the Shadow Lands the very best he could do? Would it have been so difficult to find a proper caretaker for me while he went on his trip? Was the trip so crucial that he had to go at all? I’ll agree his mind doesn’t work the same as everyone else’s, but I don’t think that gives him a free pass. You and all the others think he’s a saint. I, on the other hand, am painfully aware of his imperfections.” My words were a harsh lashing, even surprising me at their fervor. Knight never flinched or looked away as I said my peace. When I finished, he continued to stare in a way that made me feel like he could see down into the darkest parts of my soul. I hated his scrutiny. He was the same as all the others—they saw what they wanted to see— Morgan Le Fay, the woman with a blackened heart, evil to her core.