Believe (6 page)

“That, my lady, is Camelot. This is the king’s castle and the center of his rule and his power, but Camelot itself is not Arthur alone nor is it this fortress. ’Tis the king and his people who make up Camelot.”

She couldn’t pull her gaze away from the sight. “It’s so, I don’t know, perfect. Peaceful. But of course it would be.”

“Would it?” he said softly.

Tessa drew a deep breath and stared at the landscape. “I made it up. I made you up. It’s not real. None of it.”

“Tessa.” He cupped her chin in his hand and raised her gaze to his. “I am reasonably certain you are not mad. Yet your words make no sense.” He grasped her shoulders and turned her back toward the view. “What you see now is not perfect but it is indeed peaceful for the moment. Arthur has—”

“I know the story.” Impatience edged her voice. “Arthur pulled all the battling factions of England together, united under one king.”

He nodded. “’Twas when I was little more than a lad.”

“I don’t know it as well as I should. I should have done more research but I really hated that class,” the fear she had battled all day crept closer, “and this legend and this era—”

“Tessa,” he said sharply as if he sensed the panic growing within her, “’tis the magic. You cannot accept
what is real and what is not because of Merlin’s magic. ’Tis nothing more than that. I have heard it said, oft-times, for some, it leaves a veil of enchantment on those who are touched by it.”

“Get off it. I don’t believe in magic.” Her voice rose.

“Believe as you will. ’Tis naught save the truth.”

“It’s not the truth. It’s a fairy tale. A dream. And I don’t believe it. Any of it. Not Arthur, not Camelot—” Damn. She was losing it. “Not you.”

“Tessa.” His brow furrowed with concern and he stepped toward her.

“Don’t come near me!” She thrust her hand out in front of her. If he touched her now, she’d be lost. He’d be solid and warm and real and she’d know what she already knew. What she couldn’t deny. What scared the hell out of her.

“Tessa?”

Her vision blurred and the world swirled as if she was caught in a real-life special effect. Nausea gripped her. Galahad faded to a shadow and the vibrant colors of his world melted together to subtle browns and grays and all the dusty hues of the library stacks. Tessa stumbled forward and smacked her hip on the corner of the table, her reference books still arranged neatly in the center. She reached out and her hand flattened on the solid, oak surface. She was back!

Without warning, her hand pushed through the table. The library vanished. Galahad stood before her. She fell into his arms.

“My lady!”

A weariness so intense it was impossible to fight gripped her. She sank toward oblivion. Was this it
then? Was her coma ending in death? Or was this the end of nothing more than a bizarre dream? Would she wake back in her own world? Or stay in his?

No! She struggled to keep her eyes open. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I won’t give up. I can’t. I’m going to Greece in three weeks…”

Lethargy overcame her and swamped her senses. Darkness surrounded her, sucking her deeper into an endless void. She slipped into unconsciousness, her last thought oddly practical and far from the man who held her in his arms or the legend who trapped her in its mists.

Her tickets were nonrefundable.

“I
simply cannot believe you have dragged me back here again along with another unsuspecting victim!” Viviane pulled her brows together and cast him her most venomous glare. “This Tessa of yours is right, you know. This era is rather disgusting.”

“You tried to send her back,” Merlin said, an accusing tone in his voice.

“Of course I tried to send her back. I want to go back. She doesn’t belong here and neither do I.”

“This is where it all started, my dear.” Merlin glanced around the cavern chamber furnished with all the paraphernalia needed for a wizard’s art and life. “I must say, I miss it.”

“Nonsense. You can’t mean that.” Viviane waved a disgusted hand. “It’s a cave, Merlin. A nasty, cold, drafty, damp cave. It’s far too deep beneath the castle for even a hint of sunlight and I hate it.”

“It has a certain amount of charm,” Merlin said defensively.

“It has a certain amount of mold,” Viviane snapped.

“It’s part of my persona.” Merlin’s voice had that
lofty, superior tone that even after centuries of cohabitation had not lost its ability to set her teeth on edge.

“I suppose it’s also part of your persona to dress like an illustration in a children’s book? I have always hated you in that costume.”

“Very well.” His blue silk robes shimmered and blurred and snapped, replaced by a pair of gray flannel pants and black mock-turtleneck sweater.

Cashmere, she noted approvingly. Very nice.

“Is this better?”

“Much, thank you.” At least he’d had the decency to leave her own clothing alone. She did so prefer her modern wardrobe of sophisticated, flowing tunics and pants, chic little designer suits and abundant sequins to just about anything that could be had in this horrible time period.

“I’ve always rather liked my robes. They suit me. They say
wizard
.”

“They say
ridiculous
.”

“Besides, that’s what people expect of me.”

“Not anymore. The world and its people have progressed far beyond needing magicians that live in caves surrounded by the bits and pieces of spells and magic and enchantment.”

Merlin sighed. “Pity.”

Viviane bit back a sharp response. She should know better than to go head to head with the man. It had never worked before and was obviously not about to work now. Mentally, she counted to ten and struggled to adopt a more conciliatory attitude.

“Merlin, my love, I simply do not understand why you have thrust us, and that woman, back to Arthur’s court.”

“I told you, Viviane. I am fed up with the modern world believing that we, that all of this, never existed.”

“Merlin,” she said gently and clasped his hands in hers, “I thought that was the whole idea. I thought you wished to preserve forever the very special qualities of Arthur’s reign and not have them sullied by the scrutiny of history.”

“Well, yes, I did. Originally.”

“And you have succeeded with spectacular results. My dear, you are a legend.”

“Yes, I know.”

The man certainly had the ego of a legend. Viviane groaned to herself. “A rather impressive legend.”

“Well,” he appeared a bit mollified, “perhaps.”

“Why, the stories of you and Arthur and Camelot and all of it have withstood the tests of time and continue, century after century, to be the stuff children’s dreams and adult fantasies are made of.”

Merlin chuckled. “Well, I suppose, when you put it that way.”

“There is no other way to put it,” she said as if there was never any doubt. “The entire world knows Arthur as more than a mere man. You have made him and his kingdom all that a king and a land should be and much, much more.”

Merlin nodded modestly.

“And as for you, my love, you are Merlin, Wizard Extraordinaire and Counselor to Kings.” She widened her eyes in feigned admiration. “There is no greater figure in all of history or literature that compares to you.”

He shrugged in a humble manner that still acknowledged the accuracy of her words. “It’s true.”

“Why muck it all up for the sake of proving a point to one woman?” She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. “Merlin,” she purred, “forget this nonsense and take me home. Now.”

For a moment the familiar light of desire sparkled in his eye. Her stomach tightened. Even after all these eons the man could still do that to her. And thank the fates she still did it to him as well. The enchantment that bound them together had little to do with a wizard’s magic and everything to do with a man’s.

“You are astounding, Viviane. I want you as much now as I did in the beginning.” He whispered against her lips. “But we’re staying.”

“Merlin!” She dropped his hands and stepped back. “I don’t want to stay. I want to go back to modern times where I—where we—belong. I want air-conditioning and ice cream and zippers. I want the yacht and the condo and baccarat in Monte Carlo—”

“Hah! I knew it.” He aimed a long finger at her. “You just want to get back to the casinos.”

“Of course I want to get back to the casinos as well as the South of France. It’s my favorite time of year. It’s at once festive and peaceful and devoid of the hoards of ill-dressed tourists that invade in the summer. And I resent having to miss it.” She studied her perfectly manicured fingernails. “Besides, I always win handily at this time of year.”

“I daresay, you use magic to win.”

“I don’t need to use magic. I don’t need to cheat,” she said smugly. “I have a knack for gambling. For knowing when to play and when to cash in my winnings. I’m very good.”

“Regardless.” His voice rang with a no-nonsense
tone and defeat washed through her. She was doomed. No Monte Carlo. No baccarat. No roulette. Not even a lousy game of blackjack. “We are here and here we shall stay. If I recall, you did like it here once.”

“Once, I didn’t know any better and furthermore there was no other choice.” She sighed in frustration. “I thought you’d gotten this
I am not a myth
business out of your system a century ago when you brought that charming Samuel person to Camelot.”

“Charming, perhaps, but he was something of a disappointment. Ultimately, he simply perpetuated the legend,” Merlin sighed, “and he was inaccurate as well.”

“If your desire is to change the thinking of the world, you will not accomplish it with this woman. She doesn’t have the status or notoriety he did. Face it, dearest, she is nothing but a lowly quasi-professor.”

“This time my purpose is not to change the attitude of all men,” he said somberly.

Viviane narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I have brought her here for Galahad.”

“For Galahad? What? Like a pet?”

“No. A partner.”

“What on earth do you mean? Why would Galahad need a partner?”

“Galahad’s driving ambition in his later years was to find the Holy Grail—”

She snorted with disdain. “Now there’s a myth for you.”

“Not at all. The Grail is and always has been different things to different men. ’
Tis decreed for all time: he whosoever shall seek the Grail and believe shall
surely find it…
” Merlin stared at a distant spot as if his words had transported him to a place she couldn’t follow. It drove her crazy when he did that.

“Merlin?”

“Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, Galahad, of course, failed. All that Arthur had built crumbled and his knights dispersed to far corners of the land. I cloaked it all in magic. And the legend began.” Merlin fell silent and a tiny twinge of pity stabbed her.

Poor love. Arthur and Camelot really was the high point of his career. Still, that myth of his didn’t cast her in a particularly good light.

“I was always fond of Galahad.”

“He was a nice boy, dear.”

“I always regretted I did not help him more on his quest.”

“It wasn’t your fate. It was his.”

“That’s why, when I concocted the legend, I allowed him to be one of the few knights to find the Grail.”

“It was a sweet thing for you to do.”

“Galahad died an old, lonely, bitter man.”

“Your magic may have created a myth but Galahad was destined to live in real life,” she said slowly. “There was nothing you could do about that.”

“I’m going to do something now.” Merlin drew himself up straight and stared down his nose at her. For an instant she was thrown back to the moment she had first encountered the proud, powerful wizard who would become her teacher and her love. “I’m going to change his destiny.”

She stared for a long, shocked minute. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am very serious.”

“But why?”

“I like Galahad. I’ve always liked Galahad.”

She stamped her foot. “And I liked Marie Antoinette—”

“Amazing creature,” he murmured. “Threw the most wonderful parties.”

“—but I could not change her fate!”

He smirked. “Your magic is not as great as mine.”

“Thank you for pointing that out,” she said sharply. “It breaks all the Rules, Merlin. Your Rules, I might add. About changing destiny and altering fate.”

“Yes indeed, they are my Rules. I made them and I can break them. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve even wanted to break any Rules. I daresay I’m quite looking forward to it.”

“Well, I’m not at all sure I buy any of this. You’ve always been a stickler for the Rules. You taught them to me.” Viviane turned and paced the room, trying to make sense of his comments. There was something here she couldn’t quite grasp. “Regardless of your words, this desire of yours to come back here again is absurd. I know you liked the boy. And heaven knows you love this revolting era—”

He stepped up behind her. “How can you not love it? Why, this is a time of chivalry and honor. When knights rallied to do the bidding of their king and their God. When a man backed his word with his life and women were revered as fair flowers of femininity—”

“I will admit,” she said grudgingly, “that part was rather pleasant.”

“And the magic, my dear, remember the magic?” He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head back against his chest.

“Well, yes…”

“It’s what brought you to me.” His words spun a spell of memory as potent as any enchantment. “People believed in magic then. It was part of the fabric of life itself.”

“Indeed.” How could she have forgotten?

“Remember, my love, when the world was young?” His lips nuzzled against her neck and shivers of delight coursed through her. “There are few challenges and little excitement in the modern world you so resent leaving. Why, it’s gotten so bad any idiot with a credit card can fly. Once,” he nibbled at her ear and her stomach fluttered, “flying was reserved for those of us who studied and practiced the ancient arts. Your world is really quite dull, my dear.”

“Dull.” She sighed.

“Tiresome.” He edged her tunic off her shoulder and replaced it with his lips.

What was he saying? Something important, something she should pay attention to, tugged at the back of her mind, distant and obscured in a haze of delightful arousal. Viviane drifted deeper into a familiar, sensual world where all she knew was the touch of his hand and the heat of his lips.

“Boring.” His hand caressed her breast through the fabric of her clothes.

“Boring…” She could scarcely breathe. She turned her head, her lips met his. Boring. She stopped.
Boring?

At once the niggling thought at the fringe of her consciousness broke free and surfaced like an air bubble escaping the depths of the seas. She gasped and pulled away. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“Don’t give me that look, Merlin. You are the only being in all of creation itself who can manage to look innocent and guilty at the same time. You know precisely what I mean.” Viviane stepped away and glared. “How could I have been such a fool? I nearly fell for it.”

“Fell for it?” Merlin’s eyes widened, trying to appear as if he had no idea what she meant. And failing.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Annoyance rang in her voice. “All that nonsense about how you were tired of history thinking you nothing more than a myth. And that business about giving Galahad a second chance. Shame on you.”

“I still don’t know…”

“Give it up, dearest. I see it all now. I suspected as much the last time you pulled this time travel stunt. Only then I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Willing to accept that my poor, dear Merlin’s pride was wounded because the world thinks he never existed. Why I had even nearly forgiven you for casting me in your legend as the wicked witch who imprisons the noble sorcerer.”

He clasped a hand to his chest. “You have imprisoned my heart.”

“Don’t try to weasel out of this. At long last the curtain has lifted. This little jaunt of yours back to the Middle Ages has nothing to do with history or legends or quests.”

“It doesn’t,” he said cautiously.

“You know full well it doesn’t.” She drew herself up and glared. “You, my darling, are bored!”

“Bored?”

“Bored! You said it yourself. Modern life is simply too convenient for you. Too easy. There are none of the difficulties of this primitive time. There’s no need for magic and, therefore, little need for you. You receive none of the accolade you enjoyed here as a wizard—”

“A Wizard Extraordinaire,” he said pointedly.

“And Counselor to Kings. Yada, yada, yada—I know. Everyone knows. Now that I think about it, that’s precisely the reason you did this before. You miss the limelight. Being a relatively ordinary man in an era in which survival is no longer in question is far too tame for you. What was it that set you off the last time anyway?”

He looked like a sulking child. “Electric lights.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until now.” She smacked her hand against her forehead. “The signs were all there—”

“Steam engines. The preponderance of those blasted telephones—”

“Upon further reflection I noticed a certain restlessness as far back as the industrial revolution.”

“—photography, dynamite.” He shuddered. “Psychiatry—”

“Enough!” She shook her head. “The nineteenth century was a time of great advances for mankind. I should think you’d be happy for mortals.”