well. Despite their religious devotion, the lives of the monks and nuns here could not be so very different from
those of the simple farmers and herders Merlin knew best.
The scrape of a sandal on stone warned him that someone approached. Merlin got to his feet and saw the Father Abbot approaching
from the direction of the hospital.
“She’s very badly wounded,” the cleric said as he faced Merlin. “The sisters are doing all they can, but you must pray with
us.” He gestured toward the chapel that lay at the heart of Avalon.
“Why should I pray to your god if he’s going to take her from me?” Merlin demanded bitterly.
“This isn’t God’s work,” the Father Abbot answered quietly.
“No,” Merlin said consideringly. “You’re right. It isn’t.” Nimue’s injury was Mab’s doing, not God’s.
He felt the old man look at him curiously. “Do you know who did it, then?”
“Oh yes, I know …” Merlin said quietly.
Ardent was loyal—Vortigern would have had no other reason to sacrifice Nimue to the Great Dragon without Mab’s meddling, of
that Merlin was sure. And without magic, the king’s soldiers would never have been able to deliver Merlin to the dragon’s
cave while Merlin lay unconscious.
Suddenly he felt as if the stone walls of the Abbey were closing in on him, crushing him just as the walls of Vortigern’s
dungeon had. He brushed past the old priest and fled, running for the open air.
* * *
The sea air did nothing to calm Merlin’s anger at what Mab had done. He’d hoped to foil her plans by simply not allowing himself
to be used, but she would not let him go. She’d destroyed his life.
As now he would destroy her. He was no longer a child. He was a man, and he would use her own weapons against her.
“Mab!” he shouted, raising his arms to the storm-clouded sky. “Mab—do you hear me?”
“Yes, Merlin.”
An unnatural wind rushed toward him from the land, and Merlin could feel the tingling of sorcerous power over his skin. The
clouds above the island boiled as if in the grip of an oncoming storm, and suddenly Merlin could see Mab’s face in their shapes.
In that moment he truly understood for the first time why the Christians hated the Old Ways. What right did Mab have to meddle
in his life? No right but her power. Her power was what gave her the right. In this world, in this time, absolute power was
absolute freedom … to persecute.
“You destroyed everything I love!” he shouted at her. “My mother, Ambrosia—and now Nimue!”
But if he had expected to see remorse on the face of the Queen of the Old Ways, Merlin was disappointed.
“The end justifies the means,” Mab answered, and her voice was as inhuman and elemental as the roaring of the storm. “I did
it for you. I want you to use the power in you. Rise up dear,
dear
Merlin, and be great!”
He could not bear the note of gloating pride in hervoice, as if Merlin were merely some possession to be used or discarded at her whim.
“No, Mab!”
The wind tore at his thin clothing, but his fury warmed him like a thick fur cloak. He’d been wrong to hide in his forest
and deny his birthright. Mab would not fade away if he ignored her. She must be blotted out like the plague she was.
“I’ll destroy you for what you’ve done to me!” he shouted.
“You can’t, Merlin,” Mab said, almost sadly. “I’ll always be too strong.”
He could feel her disappointment in the air around him. Had she truly believed that once he’d broken his vow and used his
magic again he would come back to her?
As Mab spoke, the sky flickered above Merlin, and the sea suddenly rushed toward him as though its force could overwhelm him.
But Merlin was not afraid. Anger lent him a strength and focus he had never had before, and the desire to hurt Mab as she
had hurt him burned in his heart as if it had been transfixed by a sword of ice.
“I’ll find a way!” Merlin shouted, shaking his fist
those of the simple farmers and herders Merlin knew best.
The scrape of a sandal on stone warned him that someone approached. Merlin got to his feet and saw the Father Abbot approaching
from the direction of the hospital.
“She’s very badly wounded,” the cleric said as he faced Merlin. “The sisters are doing all they can, but you must pray with
us.” He gestured toward the chapel that lay at the heart of Avalon.
“Why should I pray to your god if he’s going to take her from me?” Merlin demanded bitterly.
“This isn’t God’s work,” the Father Abbot answered quietly.
“No,” Merlin said consideringly. “You’re right. It isn’t.” Nimue’s injury was Mab’s doing, not God’s.
He felt the old man look at him curiously. “Do you know who did it, then?”
“Oh yes, I know …” Merlin said quietly.
Ardent was loyal—Vortigern would have had no other reason to sacrifice Nimue to the Great Dragon without Mab’s meddling, of
that Merlin was sure. And without magic, the king’s soldiers would never have been able to deliver Merlin to the dragon’s
cave while Merlin lay unconscious.
Suddenly he felt as if the stone walls of the Abbey were closing in on him, crushing him just as the walls of Vortigern’s
dungeon had. He brushed past the old priest and fled, running for the open air.
* * *
The sea air did nothing to calm Merlin’s anger at what Mab had done. He’d hoped to foil her plans by simply not allowing himself
to be used, but she would not let him go. She’d destroyed his life.
As now he would destroy her. He was no longer a child. He was a man, and he would use her own weapons against her.
“Mab!” he shouted, raising his arms to the storm-clouded sky. “Mab—do you hear me?”
“Yes, Merlin.”
An unnatural wind rushed toward him from the land, and Merlin could feel the tingling of sorcerous power over his skin. The
clouds above the island boiled as if in the grip of an oncoming storm, and suddenly Merlin could see Mab’s face in their shapes.
In that moment he truly understood for the first time why the Christians hated the Old Ways. What right did Mab have to meddle
in his life? No right but her power. Her power was what gave her the right. In this world, in this time, absolute power was
absolute freedom … to persecute.
“You destroyed everything I love!” he shouted at her. “My mother, Ambrosia—and now Nimue!”
But if he had expected to see remorse on the face of the Queen of the Old Ways, Merlin was disappointed.
“The end justifies the means,” Mab answered, and her voice was as inhuman and elemental as the roaring of the storm. “I did
it for you. I want you to use the power in you. Rise up dear,
dear
Merlin, and be great!”
He could not bear the note of gloating pride in hervoice, as if Merlin were merely some possession to be used or discarded at her whim.
“No, Mab!”
The wind tore at his thin clothing, but his fury warmed him like a thick fur cloak. He’d been wrong to hide in his forest
and deny his birthright. Mab would not fade away if he ignored her. She must be blotted out like the plague she was.
“I’ll destroy you for what you’ve done to me!” he shouted.
“You can’t, Merlin,” Mab said, almost sadly. “I’ll always be too strong.”
He could feel her disappointment in the air around him. Had she truly believed that once he’d broken his vow and used his
magic again he would come back to her?
As Mab spoke, the sky flickered above Merlin, and the sea suddenly rushed toward him as though its force could overwhelm him.
But Merlin was not afraid. Anger lent him a strength and focus he had never had before, and the desire to hurt Mab as she
had hurt him burned in his heart as if it had been transfixed by a sword of ice.
“I’ll find a way!” Merlin shouted, shaking his fist
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