Page 55 of To Love a Dark Lord

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I wanted to retire.” He huffed, clearly indignant about the subject. “But no. Our dear overlords wouldn’t hear of it. I figured that since you were here now, they would not mind terribly if I wandered off. But instead of flitting between worlds, I fear I passed through time as well.” He sighed. “I did not even get a short reprieve from the nonsense.”

“So…you went…back in time?” Time travel was real. Why not. Sure. That tracked.

“I went forwards, and backwards, and forwards, and sideways, and rightways, and back again.” His smile was tired. “Then I found myself on the isle of Britain long, long before it had a name. After centuries passed, who did I find, but my good friend Arthur and his knights.” He patted the top of the tomb. “I recognized Mordred and the rest, but they did not recognize me. I realized why I’d been sent there—to be Merlin. So, I donned the name, and the rest is history.”

She let the gears turn in her head for a second. “Wait. That makes no sense. You knew about the name Merlin because of the myths about Merlin. So, you couldn’t have gotten that from yourself. You knew the name in the future, so you used it in the past, which then gave it to you in the future again.” She shook her head. “That’s the ‘going back in time and killing your own grandfather’ paradox.”

“See, that’s where humans get it all wrong, thinking about time travel. Everyone thinks the universe cares about paradoxes. That the physics of the universe will make it all make logical sense.” He huffed a laugh. “The universe could not care less, trust me. It has no problems letting paradoxes exist. So. Yes. I got the name from myself.”

“So, you weren’t Merlin before. But you’re Merlin now. Which is thousands of years in your future for you, and two weeks of time for me.”

“Correct.” He reached over and picked up the dusty golden crown from the top of the marble carving of the dead king. He started using the sleeve of his robe to clean and polish it. “Just don’t think about it too hard, you are apt to give yourself a headache.”

“Too late.” She began to pace in front of him, trying to line everything up in her head. “The Ancients sent you with a bargain? To save Mordred?”

“Yes.” He blew on the crown, trying to get some detritus out from where it was stuck next to a gem.

It was a beautiful crown, now that she really got a chance to take a look at it. It was clear that an elemental must have been part of making it—it was too delicate and intricate to have been made by human hands. It was a series of twisting, winding vines that grasped precious stones in a ring. It almost looked feminine.

“It used to belong to Zoe,” he answered her unspoken thought. “She made it, long before the knights and Arthur arrived. She was once Queen of Avalon.”

“She gave it to Arthur.”

“Mm-hm. At the instruction of the Ancients. We’re all just…their little playthings, really. But I suppose that’s the right of gods. I cannot say I would be any different.” He laughed. “I would make a terrible god.”

“The worst.” She joined him with a chuckle.

“She had a vision of the new King of Avalon. But they lied and chose Mordred instead. That got everything off on the wrong foot, I fear.”

“Why’d they lie?”

“Why do they do anything? Damned if I know.” He kept polishing the crown. “And trust me, do not bother asking. The last time I did that, they showed me, for a split second, the whole of all creation. I could not stop vomiting for three days.”

“Noted.” She cringed. “But what do they want from me? I’ve already promised to stay on the island and never go home. I’m a witch now. I don’t have anything left to give them.”

“Not true.” He held up the crown, inspecting it, before deciding his work was done well enough. “There is one more burden they wish you to bear. And if you choose to do so, they will save Mordred’s life.”

She watched him for a second, putting everything together. “They…no. No, that makes no sense. I’d be the worst queen.”

“I beg to differ. You desire peace. You want everyone to live, but you know that isn’t possible. You understand the cost of war. You understand loss and betrayal. And you want more than anything else to protect those who can’t protect themselves.” He held the crown out to her. “That sounds like a queen to me.”

She hesitated. “But…no. No. I’m just a kid.”

“You’re as old as Arthur was when he set out on his quest. Older, even.” Merlin—Doc—smiled at the memory.

Shaking her head, she hesitated. “Taking that doesn’t just magically make me queen, does it? I’ll have to fight for it.”

“You really think it will be that easy? No, you are right. You’ll need to convince Zoe to stand down or kill her.”

“And the same with Mordred.” She chewed her lip. Mordred wanted the throne. And if she took this, she’d rob him of that. It would probably feel like yet another betrayal. Yet another stab in the back. She shut her eyes.

Become the Queen of Avalon or lose Mordred.

And she’d done so much to get this far already.

With a heavy sigh, she hung her head. “He’s going to hate me for this.”

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