4. Will
Chapter four
Will
It’s my gold!
T he all too familiar chatter of my family awoke me from my fitful dreaming, and I groaned as I blinked crusty eyes open.
I wished I could have said this was the first time I’d woken up on the floor, my noisy family crowding around my unconscious form as they argued over the best way to handle the situation.
Alas, this was a normal occurrence.
“What happened?” I rasped, licking my dry lips. I rubbed my face before attempting to sit up.
The chatter ceased when they realized I was awake, and Dorothy rushed to help me sit upright.
“Well,” Gerry said, popping up behind Dorothy’s head. Jumping onto my lap, he stared up at me with a cocked head. “One second, we were planning to overthrow you as dungeon master, then the next second, you went all magicky and shit and passed out.”
“I don’t understand,” I admitted, stretching my neck. “I don’t—”
Then I remembered.
“Oh, shit.” I rubbed at my chest where a phantom ache remained from being run through with a sword. “What the hell is happening right now?”
“Vin,” Dorothy said kindly, placing a hand on my dad’s knee. “You can’t keep this from him any longer.”
And excuse me. But what ?
“Dad?”
My dad sighed. “I always knew this day would come and you’d find out about Arthur. I guess I just hoped it would be on my terms. Not... whatever that was.” Grabbing my left hand, my dad turned it so he could run his finger over the birthmark on the back of my hand. He smiled sadly down at it. “Did you know your mother had the same mark?”
I frowned down at the birthmark. “No, I didn’t.”
“You’re a sorcerer, William.”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “I’m aware.”
“But you’re not just any sorcerer.” He cleared his throat. “You’re the last living descendant of Merlin.”
I stared at him in surprise. “Like, the creepy wizard from Arthurian legends? That Merlin?”
“Yep! That’s the one.”
And that... Hmm... That actually made a whole lot of sense. I thought of the visions, realizing now they were of Arthur, King fucking Arthur , that meant the sorcerer in those visions would have been Merlin.
Whoa.
“So all the visions I’ve had, all the paintings I’ve done, you knew what they were this whole time? What they meant?” I asked, more shocked over the fact that he’d been able to keep a secret all this time than I was actually angry.
He scratched the back of his head. “Yes.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
Dorothy and he shared a look before he said, “When you were older, yes.”
“But... I’m 23!”
Dad squinted at me. “Are you sure?”
Unbelievable.
“So what did the ball of light mean?” I asked, thinking back to what had definitely sounded like a prophecy. “What are the Treasures Thirteen?”
Otto spoke up at that, reading from his phone. “According to Wikipedia, they’re magical objects that Merlin supposedly owned once upon a time. It lists some things like a flaming sword, a hamper, a horn...”
He drifted off because everyone here had seen my walls filled with paintings of all sorts of random things. Random things like a flaming sword guarded by two lion statues. Like a woven hamper sitting on a table beside a brochure for a nursing home. Or dark caves where various items, like a silver horn, glinted in its crevices.
I swallowed down the knowledge that God or Fate had been planning this, sending me visions of all of this, for my entire life. “What about the part about making up for my bloodline’s past?”
“Merlin’s line was cursed because he broke a blood oath. Until that oath is fulfilled, all those with Merlin’s blood will have bad luck.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed. I recalled the memory of Merlin turning Arthur to stone. “He vowed on his blood to find the Grail and raise King Arthur.” My brows drew low. “Then if I fulfill his oath, my curse will end?”
“Yes.”
“Is Merlin still alive?”
Once again, Otto spoke up, scrolling through some site on his phone. “Sources are unclear, but most agree he’s dead. Some say he was sealed beneath a stone, or trapped in a glass tower, or beheaded, etc.”
“Okay, so if he’s dead, then why haven’t any of his descendants tried to fix this Arthur situation? Didn’t they get visions too?”
My father hesitated. “Yes, they all had visions.”
“But why didn’t they—”
“They died trying, Will. Every single one of them.” He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. “Your mother didn’t die from a random animal attack like you were told. I mean, not technically. She was hunted down by those who didn’t want Merlin’s bloodline to raise Arthur.”
My stomach soured at this, and I found it hard to swallow through the ache in my throat. “Who hunted her?”
“Do you know who Morgana is?” he asked.
“A little,” I hedged, recalling what I’d seen in the memory and what I’d learned from Arthurian tales. “Some say she was King Arthur’s half sister. She slept with Arthur and gave birth to Mordred, right?”
My dad nodded. “Yes. She’s a powerful sorceress and ruler of Avalon.”
My thoughts drifted to the memory of Arthur being loaded onto a small boat with nine figures. I remembered the tear-stained eyes of the one at the front as she’d met Merlin’s gaze.
“She has Arthur in Avalon. That’s what she said.” I frowned. “But what does she have to do with mom?”
“Morgana and the other fairy queens made it their entire mission to eradicate Merlin’s bloodline so that no one would ever be able to raise Arthur.”
His words were such a shock, that it was all I could do to breathe. “Mom?”
Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Like your mother.”
“How? How am I still alive then?” I asked, my mind reeling with all this new information.
Reaching forward, he brushed his fingers over my ring. “Because of this. The Stone and Ring of Eluned the Fortunate. It used to belong to Merlin and that’s why it bears his mark.” He tapped at the triangular formation of swirls. “There’s a reason you can’t take it off, Will. This magical heirloom has been passed down through your mother’s line for generations. It’s special because it’s spelled to cloak its wearer’s location from anyone who wishes them harm.”
Another memory rose to my mind, a vision from earlier. Of a mother placing a ring on a baby’s finger. “They found her because she gave me her protection.”
He nodded, and his jaw wobbled. “She knew what would happen when she took it off. Just as those before her knew their fates when passing on the ring. But your mother loved you so much. She just wanted you to be safe.”
The weight of his words hung heavy in the room, stifling me.
“So the only one able to break King Arthur free is someone who has Merlin’s blood in their veins?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“And I’m the last living descendant of Merlin. So if I were to die, Arthur would be stuck like that forever?”
My dad seemed to sense where I was heading with this, and he shook his head. “This isn’t your responsibility, Will.”
I frowned down at my lap. At the ring my mother had given me, a ring that represented protection and a chance to live, knowing she would be found and slaughtered without it. “You don’t understand, Dad. I can’t just leave him down there.”
“If you wake him up though, his curse—”
“He is awake, Dad,” I whispered, recalling the memory of Arthur being turned to stone. His internal screaming for Merlin, for anyone, to help him. “The spell didn’t knock him out. He’s been awake, stuck as a stone statue, for the last 1,500 years.”
Dad winced as the magnitude of what I’d just said registered, and silence filled the room as we mulled everything over.
“If you’re determined to raise him, then find the Grail first and then help him after,” Otto finally suggested, but I shook my head.
“He’s in so much pain,” I choked out, my hand drifting again to my chest where the sword, Excalibur , had pierced Arthur. “He’s stuck in the same state he was in when Merlin’s spell was cast. So the spell might have frozen the curse, but it didn’t numb his pain. I only felt the barest fraction of what he’s endured, and I just... I can’t...” I growled in frustration as I struggled to find the right words. “I can’t leave him there. Not anymore.”
“But the curse—”
“No,” I snapped, and Otto shut his mouth with a frown. “I’ll find a way to slow the curse. There has to be something, okay? I don’t know how long it will take to find the Grail.” I didn’t say if I’d ever find the Grail. “And I refuse to leave him down there to suffer any longer.”
Dorothy rubbed my arm, smiling tightly as she and my dad had some silent conversation float between themselves. “Then we’ll figure something out. We might not have a ton of magic in our veins, but I’m sure there’s something, some spell or elixir, to help slow the curse.”
I couldn’t find my voice to respond, so I simply nodded my thanks for her support. This wouldn’t be easy, but sometimes the hardest decisions in life were the most important.
“I don’t know how this will even work. I can’t even afford a plane ticket to Europe, let alone an entire trip.”
“You could just use the gold,” dad said thoughtfully, rubbing his goatee.
“What gold?”
He sighed. “It was passed down from your ancestors. Your mother made me promise to keep it safe for you.”
“So,” I said, trying, and failing, to keep my voice level and calm, “you’re telling me that I have a whole bunch of gold somewhere? Like real gold?”
“Yes, Will,” my dad said, sounding like he couldn’t believe he was having to explain this to me. “ Real gold .”
“How much?”
“Like, how much is it worth? Or how many pieces are there?”
“Either.”
“Hmm, don’t know about what they’re worth, but there are like 10 containers full of gold coins.”
Ten. Fucking. Containers.
“Why in the world have you never said anything?” I thought of all the years we’d lived in tiny, cramped houses. Of the past several summers I’d sweated my ass off mowing lawns trying to save enough money so I didn’t have to live with my parents.
And all this time, I apparently had 10 containers full of gold we could have used?
He shrugged like this was no big deal. “We were going to tell you when you were old enough.”
My jaw dropped. “ Again , I’m 23!”
“If you say so.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I counted to 10. Then to 20. Because being frustrated wasn’t going to help anything. When the urge to smack my dad upside the head was marginally smaller, I took one more deep breath and asked, “Where exactly is all this gold?”
“Oh.” Dad perked up at this, beaming brightly at me. “Somewhere super safe. Don’t worry. I hid it in the basement in case any robbers tried to break in and look through our stuff for valuables. Made sure they wouldn’t even think to look in the containers.”
“Uh-huh.” My right eye twitched. “Want to show me?”
He squinted again. “You planning to steal it?”
“It’s my gold!”
“Right. Right.” He held up in his hands in surrender and stood from his seat. “Come on then, I guess.”
As we headed for the stairs, there was a nudge at my elbow. Glancing down, I found Nana smiling widely at me.
It was suspicious as fuck.
“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite grandson?” she asked, saccharine sweet.
“Hey!” Otto said from behind us. “I’m right behind you.”
I narrowed my eyes on her. “No, you haven’t.”
“Oh,” she said, trying and failing to sound surprised. “Well, you are.”
“Still here,” Otto said with a roll of his eyes.
I snorted. “Good to know.”
Following my dad, we descended into the basement, and I only tripped over two steps.
The light flickered as my dad turned it on, casting the room in a dim glow. My dad muttered to himself as he began shifting boxes aside, searching through the chaos. After maybe 20 minutes of digging, though, he shouted in victory.
“Aha!” Using his magic to drag a large, black container out from under an old entryway rug, my dad grinned. “Found one!”
Dropping a box full of old clothes, I rushed over.
“ NOT gold ,” I read off the label, “ Just dildos and shit. Really .” My right eye started twitching again, and I glared at my dad to ensure he knew I thought he was the biggest idiot of all time. “Are you for real right now?”
“No, Will,” my dad said patiently. “It’s not really dildos and shit. I just wrote that to keep robbers from going through it.” He rolled his eyes and nudged Dorothy. “See? And you thought no one would fall for it.”
“I hate you so much sometimes,” I muttered before yanking the lid off the first box.
Coins glittered as I set the lid aside, and my gaze feasted on the bounty within the storage bin. Otto’s eyes were wide, Nana scooted forward as if in a trance, and Gerry eyed the gold as if disappointed the bin wasn’t secretly filled with snow globes. My dad and Dorothy seemed unfazed by it all, though, moving away to continue searching for more bins.
“You said there’s nine more of these?” I asked reverently, reaching out to grab a handful. I let the coins fall one by one back into the bin, enjoying the clink, clink, clink they made.
“Yep,” my dad called, tossing aside a box labeled NOT dildos and shit. Boring stuff. Don’t open unless your name is Vincent or Dorothy . Then on another label plastered messily below it, Unless you’re a robber whose name is Vincent or Dorothy. Then this box is not for you either .
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” I told him.
He looked genuinely confused. “Why?”
“Well, I think we might have enough for the plane tickets,” Otto quipped, scooping Gerry up from where he was chewing on an old extension cord. “Though, do you even know where Arthur is?”
“At the bottom of a lake.”
“Which lake?”
“The... one in Avalon,” I said, sounding unsure.
Otto stared at me. “Yeah, we saw that. But where is Avalon?”
“It looked like a pocket world,” Gerry said.
“What’s a pocket world?” I asked.
“Kinda like a sealed off realm that exists inside another dimension.” Gerry twitched his nose as he now chewed on a gold coin, causing it to dent. “I’ve been to several. Got a super special snow globe from the Voistren dimension once that, if broken, releases a poisonous gas that makes someone bleed out from every orifice of their body.”
We all stared at him for several moments.
“O kay ...” Otto said slowly, squinting at Gerry for a moment longer before returning his attention back to me, “so just how are you planning to find this pocket world? Or the Treasures?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“You don’t know,” Otto said, pierced brows raised incredulously.
“No,” I said, getting a little grumpy. “But there was a tower on a hill in the vision when Arthur was taken to Avalon. So maybe I can find that place by looking through pictures online. Or I have my paintings. I bet there are clues in them to help me locate Arthur and the Treasures.”
“You realize how idiotic you sound, right?”
I flipped him off and glanced at Gerry who was now licking his balls. “How do you enter a pocket world?”
Gerry paused midlick. “The magic will tell you, of course.”
Well, that wasn’t helpful.
“So I guess I’ll go to the UK and... see what the magic tells me to do.”
“We,” my dad corrected.
I replaced the lid on the bin, much to Nana’s dismay. “We?”
Otto rolled his eyes. “You didn’t seriously think we’d let you go off on your own, did you?”
“It sounds dangerous,” I reminded.
“Yeah, but...” my dad frowned, “you’re my son. I might not have much magic in my blood, but if this is something you feel you need to do, I want to help.”
I glanced around at my family, taking in each of their determined expressions and nodded. “Then get your passports. We leave on the next flight.”