“You would think that necromancy and taxidermy would be an obvious partnership. And yet…”
— C
The Maze, SW France.
The wind whistles through the courtyard, picking up some of last year’s desiccated autumn leaf-fall and sending it rattling around the cobbles with an insectile clicking. C, standing by the open heavy intake door for R&D, pulls her jacket more tightly around herself, the movement almost imperceptible. Merlin shuffles forwards to try to shelter her a little from the wind, but it is caught between the curtain wall and the castle, and so burls around as if dancing the Dashing White Sergeant all by itself.
Merlin glances at the dark hole into the castle, clearly uncomfortable. The door, made of 10cm thick ferritic stainless steel with a fullerite core, and outfitted with a triple deadlock and three hydraulic bar-locks made of 6mm duplex steel with an adamantium core, would normally open by the minimal amount for the shortest possible amount of time. It currently yawns wide, and Merlin does not like this one bit.
There is a reason for this state of affairs. Three nimble Cleaners are running around the courtyard, swearing, trying to catch some escaped animals. A couple of the beasts are bear-like, and three resemble artiodactyls, which bound around with gymnastic ease. The resemblance to either bear or antelope stops with their faces, which are human. In addition to these, four rabbits with antelope horns and wings scamper around, occasionally attempting to take flight.
“You would think that necromancy and taxidermy would be an obvious partnership,” C says. “And yet…”
Another gust of wind, this one carrying the memory of Pyrenean winter, hurls into the courtyard and pinballs.
“We should have brought in a sheepdog,” Merlin grumbles as C suppresses another shiver. “I could—”
“No,” C says flatly. “Where did these come from again?”
“Some place on the east coast of Scotland’s central belt. Sayles called in a Cleaner crew for their last job, and they came back with these things.” He gestures to the cage at C’s feet. “And that.”
C turns her attention to the cage. It is made of silver and copper, braided together with a dull, almost black metal that has no name outside Merlin’s lab. The cage holds something that looks like the offspring of a polyamorous relationship between a hydra, a crow, and a gooseneck barnacle. Its multiple heads droop, murmuring sonorously to themselves in an enforced slumber.
“What is it?”
“Give me a chance! I haven’t had a chance to examine it yet.”
“Any thoughts? Theories? Ideas? Anything at all.”
“Are you asking me if this is another Sìth thing?”
“I wouldn’t be so crass, Merlin.”
Merlin thinks better of arguing. “It could be anything. The heads are superficially common carrion crow, which makes it roughly European, but the rest of it… I don’t know. Let me look at it. You’ll be the first to know when I’ve got something.”
“Hmph.” C scowls at the sky as raindrops spatter onto the dry cobbles. She takes her left hand out of her pocket and murmurs a few words in an ancient tongue, drawing a sigil with her forefinger that glows briefly red-orange before fading. All of the escaped creatures come to a sudden halt and then topple over. “I don’t like this, Merlin. Humans shouldn’t have access to that kind of power.”
She watches the Cleaners collect the creatures and set them surprisingly gently back into their transport crates before carrying them into the building.
“I agree with you,” Merlin says, as they follow the Cleaners into R&D. He thumps the door lock with a loud sigh of relief. “But it’s a damn good thing some of you do.”
Later, C’s office, Camelot
C doesn’t need Darling to tell her that Merlin wants to see her. Her office door is reinforced and theoretically hermetically sealed, but there is a distinct odour reminiscent of wet dog whenever he is waiting to come in.
Perhaps wet wolf would be more accurate.
She opens her door and pours two glasses of good Scotch. It has been one of those kinds of Mondays. The kind that leads to tiring Tuesdays involving travel and meeting people who need persuading that some things are not worth the effort.
“What have you got for me, Merlin?”
“That artefact Sayles brought in. I know what it is.”
“Oh?” She nudges one of the glasses across her desk.
Merlin shakes his head, agitated, but then takes the glass and knocks back the contents. His hand trembles a little.
C frowns. “What is it?”
“It’s the Penaethiaid Bran.”
“As in Bran the Blessed?”
“No. Well, sort of. You know how Bran’s head was taken to the White Hill and buried facing France to ward off invasion, and that’s where the Tower of London now stands? They keep the ravens there. Well, there is a little known spell that involves the heads of ravens from White Hill being made to speak like Bran’s head did before they left the island of Gwales. Nobody thought it was real.” He accepts a refill gratefully and downs it before continuing. C pours another three fingers into his glass. “The Penaethiaid Bran was to be made from living birds, braided together ‘as hair is wound into a rope to hold a ship fast against the winds that come from the northern dancers,’ whatever that means. There are incantations, other things that have to be done, but we’ve lost the knowledge.” He takes a sip of whisky, calmer now. “It was said to be the Penaethiaid Bran that guided the ship that took the dying Arthur to Avalon. It can guide a traveller who knows how to use it between the realms. Any realms.”
“So how did Hartley manage to make it? How did he find the spell?”
“He didn’t. This thing is old. It might even be the one that took Arthur to Avalon. I don’t think he made it. I think this is what told him how to channel life force from one being to another.”
C drains her own glass and pours herself another. She notes the slightest of tremors in her hand and clenches it into a fist. “Where is it now?”
“In my private lab. I didn’t even want to trust it to heavy containment.”
“Good. I will escalate this. This is too valuable even for the Zoo. We need to move it where it can be guarded by…”
“A higher power?” Merlin’s relief is palpable.
C nods. “A higher power.”
