by Explaining the dance party to Milady wasn’t as hard as you might think. She’s met me before.
‘So the only conceivable way to avert total disaster and certain death was to challenge the tormented and wronged inhabitants of Silvessen to a dance battle,’ Milady said, just to make sure she had it straight.
‘Exactly,’ said I.
It was the next day, which was nice, because we’d had a free evening before we’d been summoned to make our report. An evening in which to get clean, and warm, and fed (again), and hugged (thank you Jay), and then to sleep the deep, peaceful slumber of Society agents who aren’t being mercilessly tortured by a quartet of unhappy glaistigs.
I had, however, been summoned particularly bright and early: it was barely seven o’clock, I hadn’t had breakfast yet, and was it my imagination or was the light getting steadily brighter in Milady’s tower-top interrogation room? Searingly bright, like I was under police questioning and nobody wanted me to feel very comfortable anytime soon.
I shifted nervously, and made myself stop.
‘And this worked out… well,’ Milady continued.
‘I mean, we lost,’ I admitted. ‘But I sort of did that my own self, so it’s not the same as actually being beaten, and the results were—’
‘Ves,’ Milady interrupted. ‘You’ve committed us to single-handedly restoring an entire town to its former glory. A town uninhabited for centuries, I might add, with no functional buildings and a magickal status best described as bleak.’
‘Yes! Isn’t it an exciting opportunity?’
There was a long and awful silence.
I didn’t even have my staunch and trusty comrades to back me up, because I’d been brought up here alone.
‘It’s not exactly single-handed when there are a couple of hundred of us at the Society,’ I ventured. ‘And I’d be happy to lead this project myself.’
‘Cordelia Vesper,’ said Milady, in a terrible voice. ‘If you think I will be landing anybody else with this — project, you are very much mistaken.’
‘Understood,’ I said quickly.
‘It is fortunate that some parts of the… necessary undertakings will dovetail, to some extent, with Orlando’s proposed programme of magickal restoration via the regulator.’
‘That’s what I was hoping.’
‘And the Troll Court may take an interest, considering that this restoration is similar to their hopes for Farringale.’
‘Exactly!’
‘As for the rest.’
I waited.
‘Do you have the first idea what it will cost to rebuild a town, Ves?’
‘Not really, but—’
‘And this is a heritage site of historical interest, so we cannot merely level the town and build whatever we’d like. Each of those buildings will have to be carefully restored, and rebuilt in a fashion that’s respectful to their origins. Which means special materials, expertise—’ She stopped with a gasp, as though the mere thought of everything had exhausted her.
I waited in meek silence for her to continue.
And when that didn’t work, I piped up with: ‘We have people for that!’
Which, in my defence, was true. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d had to intervene to save ancient buildings of magickal import, and among the permanent employees at the Society were a range of people with exactly the sorts of skills in woodcarving, thatching, stonemasonry and ironworking that Milady was talking about.
‘And the materials?’
This was a question I didn’t have a smart answer for, a fact I betrayed with a lengthy and unpromising silence.
‘I’ll think of something,’ I finally said.
‘I would consider it advisable that you do,’ said Milady, still rather awfully, and I trailed away feeling chastened.
***
Explaining the dance party to Ophelia was considerably more challenging.
I hadn’t had the courage to face her straight after my grilling at Milady’s hands, so I took refuge in the first-floor common room.
Where she found me, an hour later, nursing a cup of tea and staring sadly out of the window.
Tea, note. Not chocolate. Milady was definitely not quite pleased with me.
‘You’re back,’ Ophelia observed, sitting down opposite me in the chair Jay usually occupies.
It wasn’t that I was unhappy to see Ophelia; she’s a nice lady. But I wasn’t pleased to see her right then, before I’d had chance to recover from my undignified drubbing at Milady’s hands. As I watched her sit down, cool and calm and full of questions, I may have actually quailed a bit.
I forced a smile. ‘As you see. How are you?’ At least the common room was empty apart from the two of us. Nobody else would have to witness my attempts to explain the inexplicable to Merlin.
‘Very well, thank you,’ she said serenely, but I didn’t miss the narrow look she shot me as she spoke. As usual, she saw through me. ‘Why don’t you tell me what happened?’ she went on.
I heaved a sigh, finished the dregs of my tea, and set down the emptied mug. ‘So. Silvessen was uninhabited, except not quite so uninhabited as we were expecting.’
The story took a while to get through, rather longer than I’d had to spend recounting everything to Milady. This was partly because Ophelia had questions. Lots of questions.
‘You did what?’ came up fairly often.
And twice she said: ‘Oh?’ in that dangerous way parents adopt while their children try to explain why they’re covered in chocolate spread from head to foot (example entirely hypothetical, definitely not something drawn from the storied experience of Tiny Ves).
Jay came in while I was about halfway finished. Finding his chair occupied, he took the seat next to me instead, and sat there in supportive silence while I stumbled through the rest of the story.
When I was finished, Ophelia looked at both of us in silence.
Finally, she spoke.
‘So you used the ancient magick of Merlin to hold a dance competition.’
I suppressed a sigh, and nodded. Take it like a queen, Ves. ‘It seemed the best thing to do,’ I offered.
Her eyes widened at that. ‘Did it?’
‘What would you have done?’
She just stared helplessly at me. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But definitely not that.’
I waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. She seemed shocked speechless.
‘Ves did great,’ Jay interjected. ‘The mission objectives were fulfilled, a rapport was established with the incumbents of Silvessen and a deal reached which will be of mutual benefit. Above all, no one was hurt.’ He smiled slightly, wryly, and amended that. ‘Save for a few pulled muscles all round.’
Ophelia was shaking her head. ‘To call it an unorthodox approach would not begin to cover it.’
‘That’s Ves for you.’
‘I see that.’
The look on her face. I tried not to feel like she was experiencing a crushing regret at having picked me for her successor.
Her next words dashed those hopes.
‘I chose you as the best candidate to inherit Merlin’s magick. Would you like to explain to me how that’s still true?’
I opened my mouth, and closed it again. I had a surplus of smart answers I could’ve given, but this was serious. For once, I had to be serious too. Why was I the right person to be the next Merlin?
Was I, even? I wasn’t certain of that myself. How could I convince Ophelia?
In the end, Jay saved me.
‘Permit me to point out a couple of things,’ he said. ‘For one, Ves has a boundless imagination and an inexhaustible supply of creative solutions to difficult problems.’
Ophelia snorted with laughter, which seemed favourable, and shook her head, which didn’t. ‘Demonstrably true.’
‘And for another. Let’s consider the hazards of this kind of a power handover. The greatest danger has to be that you’ll pick someone who won’t prove trustworthy. Someone who’ll abuse Merlin’s magick, turn it to ill effect. Someone who’ll be corrupted by it. Right?’
The ghost of a smile crossed Ophelia’s face. ‘I see where you’re going with this line of thinking.’
Jay smiled, too, much more widely. ‘So you gave Ves the opportunity to test drive Merlin’s magick, and what did she do? She figured out right away that she could use it to influence, if not outright control, other people’s behaviour, but what does that mean to Ves? The idea that she could enslave people to her will wouldn’t even occur to her, let alone interest her. There’s no puppeteering, no power tripping, and definitely no bloodbaths. No, you give Ves awesome cosmic powers and what does she do? She holds a dance party. That’s Ves. And that’s why she’s the right person to be Merlin.’
I felt tears pricking behind my eyes, and had to swallow a lump in my throat. I couldn’t even speak, so Jay had to be contented with a look of heartfelt gratitude. He smiled back, his eyes lingering on my face with an expression of such tenderness I had to look away.
Ophelia digested Jay’s words in silence for longer than I was comfortable with. I felt like my fate hung in the balance here; if she didn’t accept Jay’s argument, she’d take back all the beautiful, ancient magick and go find someone else to embody the archetype.
I wasn’t deeply committed to becoming the next Merlin; my life would go on even if I was passed over for it. But failure stings. And besides, I had stuff to do with those powers. I had heritage to save, people to help, magick to revive.
‘A dance battle.’ Ophelia was shaking her head again, but then, to my intense relief, she began to laugh.
She laughed and laughed until tears streamed from her eyes, and when she’d finally finished laughing she said: ‘I’ll say this: your turn as Merlin is going to be a lot more colourful than mine.’
Colourful. Good point. I touched a fingertip to a lock of my hair, and with a wisp of magick I turned it into a fluid purple-blue ombre. ‘I’ll consider it a point of honour,’ I told Ophelia, who smiled, so that was all right, then.
Later, when Ophelia had gone back to her cottage-out-of-time, Jay and I lingered a while in the common room. I had a great many things to do: arrange for a burial crew to tend to the remains of the deceased at Silvessen; negotiate with the Troll Court for assistance with the rebuilding, via Emellana; exercise my Yllanfalen contacts in hope of further aid; and figure out where in the world I was going to get a town’s worth of rare and expensive building materials.
But I didn’t feel motivated to work on any of it. I was tired, which was fair; yesterday was a long, long day, and I’d exercised my physical and magickal powers in all manner of unusual ways.
I was also feeling a little deflated. Nothing had turned out quite the way I was hoping, and I wasn’t sure what to make of where I’d ended up.
I must have heaved a little sigh, for Jay looked over at me and said: ‘All okay?’
I gestured at the emptied teapot. ‘I can’t remember the last time Milady gave me tea.’
Jay knew what that meant; he grimaced. ‘You deserved chocolate, though.’
‘I think it’s the rebuilding that she’s unhappy about. It is going to be expensive, for sure.’
‘That’s fair.’
‘And it is good tea. I think there was even some cream in it.’
‘Not entirely in the doghouse, then.’ He smiled at me, in a way that was probably supposed to be encouraging. I tried to smile back.
Jay leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees so he could give me one of his long, intense looks. ‘Ves. I meant what I said. You did a great job.’
‘Thanks.’ I managed a better smile. ‘I hope Orlando’s happy with us, at least?’
‘Reckon so. Indira vanished into the attic last night, and I haven’t heard from her yet. They’re probably up to their eyeballs in data.’
‘That’s good. Probably be another test mission going on soon.’
‘Maybe. Indira’s going to be busy monitoring Silvessen for a while yet. All we’ve established so far is that the regulator’s basic functions appear to work. What the effects will be on the Dell is a whole other question.’
‘So we’ll all be busy down at Silvessen for a while yet, thanks to me.’
Jay smiled and shrugged. ‘Yes, but I for one am looking forward to it. I don’t think anyone’s ever brought an entire town back from the dead before. And if we can do something like that at Silvessen, what does that mean for Farringale?’
I nodded. ‘I’m hoping the Troll Court will see it that way, too, and help us out.’
‘Em will get them on board.’
I tried to picture anybody standing up to a serenely determined Emellana and prevailing. I couldn’t. Even Their Majesties were outmatched there.
‘Em and Alban,’ I amended. ‘Pretty sure he’ll support us.’
Jay frowned slightly, and hesitated over his next words. ‘About Alban.’
‘Yes?’
He straightened again and leaned back in his chair, watching me. I wasn’t sure what for. ‘Are you… are you and he definitely not—?’
He didn’t seem disposed to finish the sentence, so I took a guess. ‘Going to be a thing? No. Definitely not.’
He scrutinised me with a rather dark gaze. I couldn’t read his expression. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Are you?’
‘Maybe. Are you?’
I thought about it, but I didn’t need to think for very long. ‘A little,’ I admitted. ‘But not as much as I might have expected. I think I was… dazzled.’
‘He is pretty dazzling.’
‘I doubt it would ever have worked out.’ Saying that out loud hurt, a little. Part of me had really wanted it to work out, but that was probably the dazzled and stupid part. ‘Anyway,’ I went on. ‘I so rarely date. I don’t have time, or… inclination, much.’
‘Really? You don’t want to date?’
‘I know that sounds weird.’ I tried not to feel defensive; it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s reacted badly to the idea. ‘I don’t hate dating, but it’s a lot of trouble and I don’t feel in need of a relationship.’
Jay nodded slowly. ‘I see.’
‘That’s what I meant when I said I was dazzled. I was so swept away by Alban that I forgot who I am, for a little while.’
‘And who is that?’
I hesitated.
‘If I may ask,’ Jay said quickly. ‘I don’t want to pry.’
I eyed Jay for a moment in silence. How much could I tell him? How much did I want to tell him?
‘I’m fine on my own,’ I answered. ‘I know people say that and sometimes it isn’t true, it’s a pose adopted against the loneliness that comes from wanting a relationship and not finding one. But in my case it’s the truth. I’ve never felt a strong drive to get into romantic or sexual relationships, and if I go through the rest of my life without one, I’ll be happy with that.’
Jay just nodded, giving me space to say more, if I wanted to.
I found that I did.
‘I don’t think I feel… attracted to people, the way others do,’ I said. ‘Not even Alban. I mean, he’s aesthetically delightful, and I might’ve liked to be kissed a bit, maybe, but that’s… that’s all.’
Jay nodded again, silent with a watchful attention which felt welcoming, not condemning. There was warmth in his gaze.
So I went on. ‘It’s hard to talk about, because… because people think that you must be broken, you know? They say you just haven’t met the right person yet, or that you must be damaged somehow. And maybe I’ve wondered, sometimes, if they’re right. You know how people talk about love and sex and soulmates — like it’s the crowning experience of all of humankind — and I’ve felt, sometimes, like I must be missing out on all that magic and beauty and — that my life must be the poorer for it.
‘So when Alban showed up and I was a bit starry-eyed over him I thought… maybe this is it, maybe this is the “right person” who’ll change those things about me, and I’ll finally learn what all the fuss is about. My life will finally be right and healthy and complete, in all the ways people talk about.
‘But that didn’t happen, because it isn’t that I haven’t met the magical person who’ll change me. It’s that I don’t need to change. My life isn’t broken and I’m happy as I am. So, no, I’m not too disappointed about Alban. I have a fantastic life and I don’t need a romance to complete me.’
I realised as I was speaking that I was trailing into defensiveness after all, but hey ho. I’d said it.
And far from condemning me, or recoiling from me, or arguing with me, Jay was smiling. ‘You’re dazzling,’ he said. ‘Never mind Alban. You’re the complete package all by yourself, and I agree: you don’t need a soulmate. Your soul’s perfect as it is.’
That sunk in all the way down, and lighted a little glow around my heart. ‘Thanks,’ I managed, through a fresh wave of threatened tears. Twice in one day, I must be tired. ‘It’s not that I don’t love people,’ I added. ‘I do. Deeply. You can love people completely even without sex or romance. I don’t think they’re the same things, at all.’
‘I have no trouble believing that,’ said Jay.
‘So… why were you asking about Alban?’
‘Um, well…’ Jay looked away, looked back at me, shifted in his seat. Uncomfy. What can of worms had I opened? ‘I had thoughts of… asking you to dinner. Or something. If you were free.’
‘You mean if I wasn’t hanging my heart on Alban like a coatrack.’
‘Something like that. But if you don’t want to date—’
‘I’d like to,’ I said quickly.
Jay hesitated, perhaps waiting for a “but something” to follow.
‘That’s it,’ I clarified. ‘I’d like to.’
A smile, somewhat relieved. ‘Let’s rephrase what I was going to ask,’ he said. ‘Would you like to have dinner with me with a view to developing a deeper relationship in a largely non-romantic way, and which certainly isn’t intended as a prelude to sex?’
‘Would that be… okay?’
‘Completely. Wonderfully.’
I smiled, too — then stopped as a thought occurred to me. ‘But wait. Weren’t you dating someone?’
‘Briefly. Not now.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not. The idea was of interest to our parents, so we gave it a chance. But we found it wasn’t of similar interest to us.’ He shrugged. ‘We’re friends. It’s okay.’
‘And your parents are okay with that?’
‘Of course. They aren’t tyrants.’
‘Dinner’s on, then.’
Jay beamed. ‘How about tonight? Are you too tired?’
‘Tonight’s great. I do have something I want to do before then.’
‘Oh? Do you need backup?’
I shook my head. ‘Thanks, but not this time.’
