The Shadow Companion - Laura Anne Gilman [2]
“Ailis. You’re wasting energy.”
“What does it matter?” She glared at him, angry again. “It’s not as though you want me to use that energy for anything else. In fact, you want me to pretend I’m not even here—be a meek, good little mouse so nobody will be made uncomfortable by my existence.”
The enchanter’s robes drifted in a subtle breeze, but he was otherwise untouched by the dust of the field Ailis was standing in. Which was reasonable, as they didn’t actually exist where he was. The two of them were communicating through the astral plane, the magical layer of existence just above the physical world. The only reason he could see her surroundings was because she was re-creating them magically.
In fact, Merlin was several days travel to the south, back in Camelot, in a civilized place where people behaved in a civilized manner…mostly.
“Merlin, if I don’t practice, I’ll go mad. There’s nothing else for me to do! You know these knights and their squires. You know how they are!”
“Rude, suspicious, arrogant, and quarrelsome. And those are the well-behaved ones. Yes, I know. Ailis, that is another reason why it’s important you not do anything to rouse their suspicions. For me, they know I’m Arthur’s man. I’ve pledged myself to him, foreswearing any other loyalties under pain of damnation. That makes me, if not safe, then at least a known threat. You’re a young female, and to them that says—”
“Morgain.”
“Yes. Morgain.” Or Nimue, Merlin’s last student, who had—in a fit of pique—locked him in a magical house made of ice before Morgain had first attacked with her sleep-spell. Ailis was female and magical, and therefore potentially dangerous in a way these men didn’t quite understand. To them, females were chatelaines—housekeepers—or servants, or wives, or off under the tutelage of religious orders. Women were not sent on great adventures, wearing leggings under their skirts for easier riding, staying in the company of men rather than other females, riding about the countryside. And they certainly did not carry within them the power of magic.
“You sent me here,” she said softly. Merlin had to dip his head to hear her, even though magically he could simply have amplified her voice to be as loud as he needed it. “You sent me—us—on this Quest. Why, if not to help?”
“You will help, Ailis. You will, in fact, be essential. I just don’t remember how…yet.”
Part of the enchanter’s magical heritage was that he lived backward in time, getting younger as he aged, remembering things that had not yet happened, but not knowing which actions would set them in motion. There were rumors that he was insane. In truth, he was just always confused.
“I need you there, so when the time comes, you’ll be ready. And that means not having annoyed anyone so that they won’t listen to you when it is time.
“Continue to practice. But stay low. Be well-spoken, gentle, demure.” He smiled at her then, the rare mischievous spark reappearing in his eyes. “I know it’s difficult, but they’re not all that smart, most of them. A little effort, and you can have them all eating out of your hand like pet ponies.”
There was a noise behind him, some sort of distraction. “I must go. Girl-child, be careful. Be discreet. That’s all we’re asking of you.” He was clearly speaking for Arthur’s wishes now, as well.
She nodded grudgingly, feeling as though she were a pony being lashed to harness against her will.
Merlin looked relieved, then focused his gaze intensely at her, his hawk-like eyes now worried in an entirely different way.
“I wish…”
She waited.
“You will be all right? With…other things? Not the knights, but…”
She was the one who smiled then, her face lighting up with bittersweet affection for her reluctant teacher, who was so clearly uncomfortable with what he was trying to say. Poor Merlin. He was so very, very bad at relationships himself, the idea of him giving advice…
“You mean with Gerard and Newt?” Ailis suppressed a sigh. That was an entirely