Once & Future (Once & Future #1)(98)

“How much farther are we going?” Gwen asked, looking dangerously exhausted.

“Not far,” Merlin said, nodding to Jordan, who swept Gwen up in her broad arms and carried her like a baby.

“She’ll be a terrible target,” Merlin whispered to Ari. “If it’s obvious that she’s pregnant and not married to a man, they could stone her.”

“Stone her?”

“Beat her to death with stones.”

“What?” Ari blurted, alarming every single person in their company. She grabbed his arm and yanked him close. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“How could someone joke about that?” he asked, bright tears blurring his vision. “I’m trying to warn you. Back then it’s not Mercer you have to worry about. It’s murder. Sexism,” he said, glaring at Gwen. “Racism.” His eyes bounced across the group. “Homophobia!” he croaked.

“Homo what?” Ari asked.

“You must listen, Ari,” Merlin said. “King Arthur was special because he rose from the ashes of one of the worst times in human history. That’s why it was called the Dark Ages.”

Ari’s grip fastened on Excalibur. “Merlin, this isn’t just to stop Mercer and save the baby. We’re going to look for a way to save you, too, to stop your backward aging, before…” She didn’t have to finish her sentence. Merlin felt his own ending looming up like a doorway to oblivion. He didn’t tell her that he’d started to give up on having a future, that he couldn’t afford that hope any longer, although he suspected she sensed it in his resigned silence.

This would be Merlin’s last quest, and so he had no choice but to make it his greatest.

“Here,” Morgana’s voice rang out, causing everyone to stop. At first, there was only the night, but then the light-blue shimmering soul of the ancient enchantress appeared before them.

“How do we make it happen?” Ari asked.

“We combine our magic. As much as we can gather,” Merlin said, closing his eyes and humming. He took Ari’s magnificent sword, leaking incandescent energy into it, making it shine like a bright star. When he was done, his singing voice dwindled out, and he sagged slightly.

Ari eyed the glowing sword, and Jordan set Gwen down. “Now what?”

“Give me a moment.” Morgana threw her dark head back, taking in the silver stars. “How will you return? The opening will only hold for a moment.”

“The elegant nightmare makes a great point,” Val muttered.

“We’ll find a way. That place sounds like it’s overrun with magic.” Ari turned to Gwen, dark doubt in her voice. “Do you trust me? It’ll be my goal to bring us back to this time, to fix this future, but who knows if that’s possible.”

“Of course,” Gwen said, her honesty as brilliant as torchlight.

They faced Morgana. The enchantress held a hand to Ari’s cheek, and one on Merlin’s. “The people of that time and place will seek to kill you, while their savagery and ignorance will break you. You, because you’ve never imagined it,” she said to Ari, and then she turned to Merlin, “And you because you believed you’d escaped it.”

Merlin felt a chill in the desert wind, but he hardened his stance.

Morgana positioned herself with the tip of the sword on her chest. “Aim for my heart, old wizard.”

“It’s magician,” Merlin coughed.

“Wait, you’re going to… kill her?” Ari asked, horrified. “No, I—”

“Farewell,” Morgana said. She reached for Merlin’s shoulders and pressed close in a rush. Merlin felt the impending death magic rattle through every single atom. Morgana screamed with the kind of pain that ended worlds, Excalibur rushing straight through her.

And the night exploded with blue light.

They were thrown back into the sand, nothing left of Excalibur in Merlin’s palm except for the handle and hilt. Nothing left of Morgana except for a contracting web of gray mist. Merlin had killed Morgana, so it wouldn’t leave a hole in Ari, but he felt one open up, unexpected and ragged, in his own heart.

“Go!” he yelled. “Before it closes!”

Lamarack shouted a warning, but Merlin’s eyes were already set beyond this time and place. He struggled to his feet, one arm locked around Ari. They moved as one through ice-cold mist, away from this end and into the cursed heart of the very beginning.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


First, we would like to acknowledge King Arthur for maybe (but probably not) existing, and Merlin, for getting past that awkward part of history where people thought he was just some magical demon spawn. Also, a shout-out to Gweneviere for surviving centuries of patriarchy, slut-shaming, and way too many spellings of her name.

T. H. White, thank you for the retelling that sparked our retelling. Thank you for showing us that the Arthurian legend could be high-spirited, funny, sad, and resistance literature all at once.

Thank you to the queer authors who came before us and paved this road to a more inclusive future. Thank you to the readers of these books, and the LGBTQIAP+ heroes of the real world who so rarely see themselves reflected on the page.

Thank you to the outspoken, the people who stand up to injustice. Who strike a blow—any blow—against oppression.