Chapter 4
We’re Off to See the Wizard
Avalon was the coziest place Mal had ever seen.
Trapped between unmapped Welsh valleys and a roaring sea with no name, it was green, and lush, and beautiful.
You would be hard-pressed to call it a city; it was closer to a village, but a large, coastal village.
Every building was at most two stories tall, and they splayed and splashed the landscape on thin cobbled roads.
There were no high streets or built-up shopping centers, just little cobbled streets with little quiet shops.
One minute they’d been in a busy portal station queue, among Dunwich’s hustle and bustle, and the next they were staring out at a gorgeous beach under murky skies.
It was still Wales, after all; even their magical cities experienced the joy of Welsh rain.
At the far side of the village was a domed, grassy peak with a small stone tower atop.
It looked as though it should be attached to a grand castle but somehow the rest of it had gotten lost and now all that remained was this singular tower.
Mal did not complain when Des told them their destination was that tower, though he thought about complaining when he learned that the local portsmith was on break.
Light conversation filled their lungs as they strode along the stony paths.
Wind nipped at the edges of their faces, and the smell of the countryside calmed Mal’s worries.
At last, they mounted the top of the grassy peak and came upon the lone tower.
Des gave a terse policewoman’s knock on the front door, and Hala and Mal waited in quiet anticipation of what notorious and powerful wizard would greet them.
A young, nervous woman answered. The sight of police at the door was sure to make anyone nervous.
Des said they were here to speak to Taran, and the woman obliged, opening the door and welcoming them in.
They immediately went down a flight of stairs, into the earth, but arrived at a luxurious greeting hall on the second floor.
Vast windows gave them views of the surrounding landscape; it was as if they’d somehow arrived at the top floor of the tower.
The woman gestured for them to follow, and follow they did.
They arrived in a cluttered little office.
An expensive-looking rug covered the floor, and a small desk sat facing an expansive view of the ocean.
The walls had white wooden panels up to their waists and were painted green on their top half.
They were holding shelves covered in impossible knickknacks from across the globe.
Several stuffed heads of creatures Mal had never seen.
A plant that grew in a circle, forming a wreath.
Statues of various magical souls that Mal didn’t recognize.
A jar with a storm inside, which Mal recognized from his run-ins with storm mages; it was a technique they used to practice controlled lightning.
A twisted wooden staff sat pride of place over a mantle, next to various wands and crystals.
And, as if part of the room itself, sat a small, withered man in a comfortable chair, staring out to sea.
Mal expected it to be some kind of trick, that he would erupt sprightlily from the chair to greet them, but this was not the case.
The young woman walked them in and the old man swiveled around in his chair.
He gestured to the rug for them to sit, and as he did three wooden chairs popped in out of thin air.
He chuckled to himself in a way that said I’ve still got it, and they all sat down.
He smiled and welcomed them and the young woman left, if hesitantly.
“Can I get your full name for the record please, sir,” Des said, in a softer voice than Mal had expected from her.
“Taran Merlin Ambrosius,” the old man said.
Hala and Mal realized in tandem that they were sitting down with a great descendant of the Merlin.
Of magical history fame and of non-magical folklore fame.
Mal noted how much the old man did in fact look like Merlin.
With long white hair and a long white beard, and an old, crooked nose poking out from under his glasses and over his moustache.
There were many statues of the Merlin across Britain, a couple Mal had seen in person; the resemblance was uncanny.
This gave Mal pause, because someone who looked just like Merlin was going around murdering people.
“Date of birth,” Des said.
“July 13, 1826,” Taran said. Des jotted this down in her notepad. 1826? Mal thought. The man was just shy of two hundred years old.
“Could you tell me your whereabouts four nights ago at about eight PM?” As Des spoke, the young woman re-entered.
“He was here, with me,” the woman said, coming to stand beside Taran. “Why do you wish to know?”
“Because someone matching his description was seen in the commission of a crime.”
“Someone said they saw Taran?” the woman said, appearing outraged.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” Des said, with an even, but harder, tone.
“Elaine, Elaine Fideline,” the woman said. “I’m Taran’s nurse.”
“Good,” Des said. Mal saw that Des was scrawling everything down incessantly.
Mal had started recording the interview in his mind the second he heard the name Merlin, just in case he wanted to experience this strange encounter again.
Mal watched Taran as the two talked. He was calm and didn’t seem to mind listening contentedly, even as Elaine spoke for him.
“Can anyone else confirm you were both home?” Des said.
“No, it was just us.” Elaine said, “you don’t seriously think Taran did anything wrong, do you?”
“I’m just crossing all the t’s, ma’am. A man matching Merlin’s description was witnessed committing a crime.
I have a few more dates I would like to verify, if that’s okay with you both?
” Des listed off the times and dates of the first three murders before Murray.
All within the previous month. Each night Taran was at home with Elaine, just the pair of them.
Mal wondered how Walters had smoothed over the “witnesses” being the very victims who had died.
Maybe he claimed a mind reader read the victims’ last thoughts.
Maybe he had members of the Order pretend to be witnesses. Who knew? Well, Des certainly didn’t.
“That’s all as expected. Do you have any enemies? Can you think of anyone who would want to damage your reputation?” Des said. Elaine’s demeanor calmed at this. The pair racked their brains for a moment.
“Well,” Taran said, his voice calm and strong, “I’ve had a few tussles in my day.
Perhaps some old enemy has come back. There are always a few who get away.
Let’s see, there’s Noe—they were a shapeshifter from way back, we could never track them down.
Leptoptilos, a dragon mage that flew off after one of our bouts.
Oh, oh, find Knare, hideously powerful storm mage.
Mazino Knare. Fun fact about him, he was also a necromancer.
” The whole room burst into laughter. Mal’s eyes grew wide as he forced himself to play along.
“Oh, stop pulling their legs, Taran,” Elaine said, smiling at the old fool.
“I swear, no one believes me. This guy knows …” Taran pointed to Mal as he spoke. The room laughed louder. AHHHH, screamed Mal inside his own head. He shrugged and laughed with the rest of them. Trying hard not to sweat too much.
“It must be time for your afternoon nap. Come on. Is it okay if we leave this here?” Elaine said, nudging Taran. Des nodded and smiled.
“I can do it myself. I can do it myself,” Taran said, and with a pop he disappeared from the chair.
Taran could be heard from the other room, mumbling and grumbling.
Mal was just happy that no one was staring at him and talking about necromancers.
Elaine followed but using her legs, leaving them alone in the office.
“So what did you think?” Des said.
“I’m certainly getting weird vibes from her,” Hala said.
Well, duh, Mal thought; even he could tell that.
“A bit overprotective—more than just his nurse, but not in a weird way. It’s more like awe and gratitude; maybe he saved her life at some point.
I don’t know. Secret-wise, the old guy didn’t seem to be hiding anything, but she was definitely hiding something.
She wants us to leave as soon as possible.
” Oh, Mal thought. He hadn’t picked up on that at all.
“Mal, any insights?” Des said, sarcastically.
Mal had been searching for something “deathy” since they arrived. He got neither a whiff nor trace of any death in or around the place. A couple of the objects on the mantle had given him pause. He thought they were probably conquests from wizards Taran had “defeated.”
“Nothing,” he said reluctantly.
“Incredible. I see why Walters needs you around.” Des rolled her eyes, but her smile softened the blow.
They got up and went back out into the greeting hall.
Elaine met them there after a few minutes.
Des thanked her for her hospitality and the group got ready to leave.
Mal almost missed it, but watching more carefully now, he noticed how much more relaxed Elaine seemed.
They went up the stairs, but before they got to the door, Des turned around.
Mal watched Elaine’s posture change ever so slightly and Hala nudged him, as if to say, Told ya.
“I know you’re hiding something,” Des said in a harsh, strict tone. “If you’re not being one hundred percent straight with me, I’ll be back with more than just students, and we’ll search every inch of this property.”
Elaine went from flustered, to angry, to crying in three seconds.
“Taran couldn’t have done it,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Des kept quiet, as if inviting the information out into the open.