Merlin shifted nervously in his chair and twitched his shoulders beneath the unfamiliar cloth of his new clothes. Beside him, Arthur sent him a quelling stare. From Arthur's other side at the head of the long council table, Gwen smiled reassuringly before she shrugged her shoulders under her blue satin gown. Merlin ignored Arthur and grinned back at Gwen.

The king rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the knights taking their seats along the table's length. All except Percival had witnessed Arthur's vow the previous evening and many greeted Merlin cordially. The elderly Sir Ector sent him a searching glance but took his place without speaking.

Most of the knights were familiar with the council chamber but none except Leon and Ector had ever sat at the table. All were unusually silent and exchanged uncertain glances. Elyan was about to sit beside Gwen when he froze and looked questioningly at Leon. The senior knight, who could have claimed a spot nearest the king, smiled slightly and waved the younger man to relax. Leon seated himself halfway down the table. Gwaine dropped into the chair beside Merlin and rocked it back on two legs. Merlin gave an inner sigh of relief when his friend refrained from propping his feet on the tabletop.

Arthur waited until they were all seated, then drew breath to address the gathering. Before he could begin, he was interrupted by raised voices at the door to the chamber. A portly man in a rich green cloak was being prevented by the guards from entering the council chamber.

Aguisel's pinched face was red under his thinning salt-and-pepper hair. "Sire, I must protest being summarily dismissed from your Council. Your father considered me a valued adviser and a good friend and yet you have chosen to forego my experience and loyalty for a bunch of soldiers who are better suited to defend the city than govern it." The man's gaze landed on Merlin and his face turned from red to purple. "Uther would be appalled at how you have chosen to rule his kingdom."

"My kingdom." Arthur stood and gazed calmly at the outraged noble. "My father would want me to express his appreciation for your years of faithful service and wish you well in your future endeavours." He gestured at the guards to escort Aguisel out of the room and resumed his seat.

Aguisel made a few more irate protests but the sounds faded as the former Councillor was ushered away. Merlin squirmed uncomfortably.

Gwaine elbowed him in the ribs. "It's about time you took your rightful place here," the knight muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Yes," Arthur agreed.

The king's steady blue gaze held Merlin's. He stopped squirming and sat straighter as warmth uncurled in his chest.

King Arthur looked up and down the row of faces, every eye fixed on their monarch, including Gwen's. "All of you have served me honourably and well. Once, many of you joined me at a round table that belonged to the ancient kings of Camelot, a tradition that emphasized equality in all things. I took my place among their ranks one year ago, and now I intend to revive that ancient tradition. I'm having that ancient table relocated to the citadel and I hope you will all join me around it as my Privy Council. I value your judgement and I treasure your loyalty. I know you will serve Camelot well."

There was a round of cheers and applause which Merlin joined wholeheartedly.

The celebratory mood lasted even through the ensuing discussion on the truce with Morgana. Percival grew still at the mention of her name and shot a piercing glance toward Merlin. Several knights remained tight-lipped at Arthur's acceptance of Morgana's truce, Percival and Gwaine among them, but most were relieved to know the threat of further invasions was averted. The king had sent her a horse and arranged for an escort which she disdainfully refused. They had followed her at a discreet distance and reported she had safely reached the Isle of the Blessed.

Merlin erased any evidence of loneliness from his expression when the king turned to him.

"We're going to face a good deal of outrage, confusion, and resistance to my acceptance of magic and my appointment of a sorcerer to my court." Arthur's blue eyes held Merlin's steadily. "People need to know about you and everything you've done to keep them safe all these years."

Merlin nodded without speaking.

"We'll also need your guidance on what sorcery is dangerous and what is acceptable. Gaius has a good deal of knowledge and you can consult with him whenever you need, but I'll rely on you to handle events on a daily basis. Also to journey with me throughout the kingdom when needed."

It was a task Merlin had anticipated and he looked forward to the duty with more enthusiasm than trepidation. As Arthur said, it would not be easy but he had no doubt things would finally begin to change.

The meeting turned to a discussion of magic. Percival was given a quick summary and of the previous night and then Arthur turned to Merlin.

"Morgana's power is great; yet apparently you defeated her and her allies on numerous occasions while still concealing yourself from them."

Merlin felt his cheeks grow warm under everyone's scrutiny.

"There are several other magical threats I recall that inexplicably disappeared or were vanquished far too easily. Do want to fill us in on the details?"

"That would take days." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"I've got some free time," Gwaine said.

"Actually, you're not done polishing my boots," Elyan contradicted. "However, the rest of us would love to hear a few details."

"In your own words," Arthur said. "No interruptions, no demands. No judgement this time."

There was some initial hesitation before the knights' curious questions combined with Merlin's sometimes humorous and sometimes terrifying version of events had them all sharing stories and comparing notes on who had noticed what when. Arthur was uncharacteristically silent, but the sorcerer caught his thoughtful gaze several times, reassessing, revising.

Several jugs of wine and mead were consumed during the course of the morning. By the time the sunlight filtered through the red-and-yellow glass panes was a narrow rectangle directly below the windows, Merlin felt a twinge of lightheadedness that suggested he should eat something. Likewise, Gwaine was tapping his knee the way he did when he was hungry.

As if on cue, the door opened and a serving girl backed through carrying a tray piled with apples. She used her hip to hold the door as she manoeuvred into the room. Merlin jumped up to give her a hand but reached for the tray at the same time that she released the door and spun around. The tray tipped and apples rolled off in every direction.

"I'm sorry," she said at the same time Merlin exclaimed, "Sefa!"

She was dressed like the other serving girls and her hair was pulled back in a loose braid except for a few reddish-brown strands that curled around her face.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him. Then she glanced toward the king, blushed to find his attention fixed on her, and dropped to her knees to hurriedly collect fallen apples. Merlin knelt to help her.

"You don't have to." She replaced the fruit she had collected on the tray but her hands shook and three apples rolled away again.

He tried to grab them but they slipped out of his grip and rolled further.

"Merlin."

At the sound of the king's voice, Sefa turned white and dropped the apples she had picked up.

Merlin cocked his head toward the monarch. "Arthur?"

"We'd be better off if you didn't help her."

The warlock considered the king for a moment, then turned back to the scattered mess on the floor and muttered a spell. The apples gathered themselves up, hopped onto a pile on the tray, and the tray delivered itself to the table.

Sir Ector flinched as if one of the apples was about to attack him. Leon grinned slightly and shook his head. Gwaine immediately grabbed a fruit and took a big bite. Gwen and Elyan exchanged a startled look before reaching to help themselves.

Sefa fell backwards, her wide eyes going from Merlin to the king. Merlin stood and offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and pinned Merlin with a narrow look. "My chambers would have been considerably neater if you'd done that the last several years."

Merlin shrugged. "I would have if I could have gotten away with it more often."

"How many times did you use magic to do your chores?"

"Well." Merlin tapped his chin with one finger as if doing mental addition.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

Sefa grasped hold of the back of an empty chair and wavered slightly. Her gaze jumped back and forth between the king and the apples that had been delivered to his table by sorcery.

The warlock turned to Sefa. "It's all right, I promise. I'll talk to you later."

She nodded at him. He waited until she composed herself and left before he resumed his seat.

"Can you conjure up bread and cheese to go with them?" Gwaine asked through a mouthful of apple.

"No, but I could summon up a bouquet of flowers or a flock of butterflies."

He merely grinned at the disgusted look Arthur sent him.

Gwaine paused in the midst of chewing. "How did you already make the acquaintance of our newest and second-prettiest maid?"

"Yes, how did you?" the king asked, brow furrowed.

Merlin hesitated. He had no intention of making life difficult for Sefa unless and until she and her father posed an actual threat. "I met her on my recent journey. Her family used to live with the Druids and it caused trouble for her with the citizens of a village on the northern border." It seemed safe enough to reveal that much of the truth, and it would allow him to broach the subject of what he had witnessed in the past few weeks. He watched Arthur carefully, pleased at his concern when Merlin told them more about the frightened reactions he had seen to even the most benevolent uses of sorcery.

The discussion turned to an official announcement about lifting the ban on magic. A public declaration by the king and queen was arranged for those within the city with notices to go out under the king's seal to all other parts of the kingdom and to the courts of each of their allies. The public announcement would be made on the anniversary of Arthur's coronation.

Merlin felt his stomach churn when Gwen decided he should accompany the king to the public ceremony. He regretted having drunk so much mead. Arthur grinned widely at his reaction and promptly approved Gwen's suggestion. Gwaine handed Merlin another goblet of mead.

The remainder of business for the Council that day was routine. Merlin was surprised how little had changed in the time he had been away. It seemed like the world had turned completely sideways since Arthur discovered his magic yet only a few weeks had passed.

After the meeting ended and the others made their way out of the chamber, Merlin sat for a moment staring at his hands folded on the table in front of him, his mind churning through the events of those few weeks. He was called back to the present when Arthur snapped his fingers in front of Merlin's face.

Gwen smiled at him, her brown eyes bright. "That went well." She placed a hand over Arthur's on the table and squeezed. "I'm proud of you, Arthur."

He flipped his hand over so their palms were together and laced his fingers with hers. "I thought Sir Ector would have a heart attack when those apples floated down in front of him."

Merlin tipped his head and contemplated the king. "You took it well, though."

Arthur leaned back in his chair and regarded Merlin. "I still have a lot of questions for you."

"I know."

"Most importantly, are there any other threats to the kingdom you've been keeping from me that you intended to face alone?"

"No."

"If there were, would you tell me?"

"Of course, Arthur." Merlin put on his most innocent face. He had not yet confirmed Ruadan was a threat so it was the truth. Besides, Sefa was now a witness to Arthur's acceptance of magic.

The king drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "What about the dragons? Could you destroy them?"

Merlin gave him a horrified look. "Kilgharrah would never attack Camelot again, I won't let him, and Aithusa is just a baby."

"A flying, fire-breathing baby with teeth and claws who is emotionally attached to my mortal enemy."

"Technically, yes, that's true, but I won't let Aithusa hurt you or Camelot. Besides, Morgana agreed to your truce and gave up her claim to the throne so she's no longer your mortal enemy."

Arthur shook his head. "You care about her, and you care about those fire-breathing monsters."

"They're not –"

The king held up one hand. "As long as none of them attack my people or my kingdom, I won't have any quarrel with them but I don't have to like them or forgive them."

"You've forgiven Morgana, though, haven't you?"

"For what she did to me, yes." Arthur looked at his wife. "For the people she slaughtered and what she did to Guinevere, I'm not sure I have."

"I hope one day you do."

"Perhaps."

It had taken Arthur two months to forgive Gwen but he had, even believing she deliberately betrayed him with Lancelot. It would take longer to get past all that Morgana had done, but eventually they would prove to each other they were no longer enemies. Merlin let the subject go. "You can meet Aithusa."

Arthur's mouth pursed as if he had bitten something sour. "I have no desire to meet another dragon."

Gwen shuddered. "I've been as close to one of those creatures as I care to be."

"Merlin, let's agree to differ on our attitude toward Morgana and dragons."

"So, you don't care to join me when I visit the Isle of the Blessed?"

"I didn't say you could go there."

"I didn't ask."

The king rocked back in his chair. "Does it mean anything to you that I'm the king of Camelot?"

"It means I have to put up with you." In times past, a comment like that would have earned him a blow or necessitated dodging some handy projectile.

Arthur merely regarded him thoughtfully. "If you were insolent as a servant, you're going to be insufferable as an advisor, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not." Merlin leaned forward and saw Arthur's expression change to the awed and baffled look he wore when his friend used what Gwen had termed his sorcerer voice. "I respect you, more now than ever because you had the courage to question your own beliefs. Because of you, Camelot and all of Albion will be the greatest kingdom the world has ever known."

The king blinked once or twice before he broke eye contact and shook his head as if to clear it. "When do you plan to go? It's nearly midwinter and no one travels in winter."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Unless the prince of Camelot orders them to."

"You complained enough when we did. I can't believe you would choose to go all that way now."

"Don't worry, I won't abandon you any time soon." He chuckled at Arthur's glower and wondered if he would have to dodge a goblet after all. "I was going to go at Beltane."

"Good. I'd hate for you to miss the announcement and celebration next week."

Merlin's stomach dropped at the reminder of the public ceremony to announce the change in laws which Gwen and Arthur insisted he attend.

His evident nervousness was enough to restore the king's good humour. "Don't worry, Merlin, I'm sure you can manage a public speech that will convince a crowd of onlookers that you, a powerful sorcerer who has fooled them for years, are not evil and dangerous."

Despite Merlin's awkwardness at the attention focused on him when he faced the crowd gathered in the courtyard for Arthur's speech, he found his natural confidence buoy him up when he stepped onto the balcony beside the royals. After the king and queen announced the royal proclamation, Arthur gave a stirring and far more glowing account of Merlin's magical protection that he would ever have delivered in private. Merlin let warmth wash through him at the praise even if it meant Arthur would spend the rest of the day sending snide comments his way to cover up his public show of gratitude.

When it was Merlin's turn to speak, that inner warmth combined with the rush of power he usually felt when his strongest magic surged upward. It tingled against his skin and vibrated in his fingertips. A few of those in the crowd flinched at the strength in his voice, but the sight of their beloved ruler standing unafraid at his side calmed them. When Arthur spoke again and announced a celebration with food and wine to be distributed to any and all, a cheer drowned any lingering nervousness in the gathering below.

The citadel servants had long been preparing for the feast that marked Arthur's coronation and the double celebration only increased their efforts. There was an endless supply of pastries to accompany roasted duck, pork, and beef, stewed fruit, and even dates. Enough wine and mead had been served that nearly everyone was at least tipsy by the time the third course arrived.

The anniversary of Arthur's coronation was also the first anniversary of Uther's death. In the midst of the celebration, Merlin saw the king spinning his goblet and staring into its contents as if it were a crystal ball. His plate of food was barely touched.

Merlin leaned closer. "Do you …" he paused and the king looked at him quizzically. "Do you worry what your father thinks about the changes you've made?"

Arthur scrubbed a hand across his eyes. "Yes. Every decision I make, I consider what my father would have done, though I no longer judge myself solely by what he would have wanted. I mourn his loss, for myself and for this kingdom."

"Even though …"

The king leaned closer and met Merlin's eyes. "I know you never liked my father and I have an inkling now why you were so nervous around him, but I admired and respected him as a king."

"If you could speak to him again, would you?"

The blond brows raised. "He's dead, Merlin."

"I have something, well a magical something, that can be used to summon a spirit from the Other World," he said in a rush and then held his breath.

Arthur sat back, eyes searching his face. "Are you saying I could summon my father's spirit and speak with him?"

The warlock nodded.

He shook his head. "No. What good could come of that? We can mourn the loss of our loved ones but attempting to hold onto them only brings pain. I have to rule my kingdom the way I believe is right and my father has no further say in my decisions."

The last scrap of worry that his friend harboured any doubt about the change in laws was brushed away.

"However, if you are in possession of an artifact with the power to summon the dead, I presume you'll deliver it to the Camelot vaults?"

"Well, about that," Merlin took a deep breath, "I was thinking when the Isle of the Blessed becomes a gathering place again for those with magic, it would be best if what's in the vaults was transferred to the care of those most familiar with them." Presumably the artifacts could not be destroyed, since Uther would have done so if he could have, and they needed to be handled by those with knowledge. Surely there were also a number of beneficial uses for those items in the proper hands.

The king was more gobsmacked than when Merlin announced he had magic. "You want to take an arsenal of powerful magical items and deliver them to Morgana?"

"Not right away, and I was thinking of the Druids, not Morgana."

"Are you mad?"

Merlin chose not to answer that. Probably Arthur had long since made up his mind about the answer anyway. "Don't you agree it would have been better to leave the Cup of Life with the Druids instead of allowing Cenred to get his hands on it?"

The king shook his head. "It wasn't safe with them. They gave it up far too easily."

For an instant, Merlin hesitated, wondering how much Arthur would guess.

The blond brows creased. His blue eyes were sharp when they met Merlin's. "They didn't give it to me, did they? They entrusted it to you."

Merlin scrubbed a hand across eyes. "And I promptly lost it when Cenred's men took you out with a poisoned arrow."

"He would never have gotten it if it were safely in the vaults."

"Like the key to the Tomb of Ashkanar and the Crystal of Neahtid?"

Arthur pursed his lips. "I won't allow these things to fall into the wrong hands."

"Who decides what the right hands are?" Merlin held the king's gaze. "Those things aren't yours, Arthur. They never were."

The king opened his mouth, closed it again, and then leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table. "How about you visit the Isle first and ensure Morgana is not building up an army of magic-wielding warriors or organizing a revolt in those ruins."

Merlin nodded. He wanted to speak with Iseldir or another Druid elder and ask about the items Uther had stolen and locked away. The most likely place to find those with the required knowledge was the Isle of the Blessed when he visited in the spring. Patrols had reported evidence of many people crossing the Plains of Denaria, though no one had been seen except from a distance.

Merlin was curious what he would find there in the spring. The times he had set foot on the fog-shrouded Isle, the pull of ancient magic had been strong though muted. Gaius tried to explain what the place had been like at the height of its power but the reality was probably so much more and, though it would take years to return to its former grandeur, simply being inhabited again must have awakened the magic that slept there.

Merlin was also anxious to see Morgana again, though he cautioned himself about reading too much into all that had happened during their truce. He smiled at Arthur. "I'll tell you about it after my trip."

"What do you think the dream means?" Morgana idly rubbed her right wrist where she had worn her sister's bracelet for so long. The scars from the Sarrum's shackles had faded to pale pink circles.

"You are the Seer, Morgana," Finna said. "What do you believe your dreams are telling you?"

In the three months since the elder and her group of initiates had arrived on the Isle, Morgana had grown to respect her wisdom but chafed at her enigmatic half-answers. She bit back an impertinent retort. "It's been years since I experienced a prophetic dream. My bracelet blocked most of them and since it was taken by the Sarrum's men," a shudder went through her, "my nightmares have been simply that – nightmares."

There were fewer bad dreams now. Her first days on the Isle, alone, Morgana had woken every night soaked in terror. She had taken to sleeping with several candles lit. When Aithusa showed up at the end of the first week, Morgana gratefully prepared a place for the dragon to bed down beside the hearth in her chamber. Since then, her nightmares came only when she was especially tired or worried.

Her gaze wandered restlessly around the large meeting room where she sat with Finna on a long wooden bench. This chamber was the warmest of the areas they had cleaned and furnished; its walls and roof were intact and its hearth had been easy to repair. The chimney had been swept and almost no smoke lingered inside the room. It was also large enough for all two score of the Isle's current inhabitants to gather for meals.

The fire was kept burning by women who had trickled in shortly after the arrival of Finna's group to take up residence on the Isle. They also took care of the food stores, prepared meals, cleaned, and wove the thick, woolen cloaks they all wore. The few men who had accompanied them cleared debris, rebuilt walls, and fashioned furniture. Most of the people were Druids but some were magic-users who arrived one by one with sad tales and no other place to go even now they were no longer hunted by Camelot soldiers. None of them were the least bothered by Aithusa's presence. When Morgana asked how they had known she was restoring the refuge on the Isle, they merely shrugged and said it was common knowledge. She did not know how many more had arrived that morning.

Finna's green eyes softened and she leaned forward in her chair to pat Morgana's knee. Strands of grey hair fell forward from beneath the wide, black scarf wrapped around her head. "I know you are plagued with bad memories, child."

"Thank you for listening to my rants. I don't know what I would have done without your understanding and guidance."

"You would have carried on as always." The elder woman sat back again. "But you know this dream is different or you wouldn't be discussing it with me."

Morgana nodded. "In the past when I had one of those dreams I knew it would come true right away. In a way, this is the same because I know it's going to happen but it feels distant. The people I recognize, or think I recognize, are older." The knight with blue eyes and curly dark hair was Mordred even though he was not the young boy she had last seen in Alvarr's camp and it made no sense the young Druid child would be knight. Arthur's face was thicker with lines creasing the skin around his eyes and mouth while his blond hair was thinner. "And I'm there." She rarely saw herself in one of her dreams. The only time she could recall had been her premonition of her death and Emrys standing over her, terrifying in his anger and pity. That vision had not haunted her again, but this one was nearly as frightening. "I can smell the blood, hear the crows shriek, feel the dampness of the mist. My arms are sore from rowing and my legs ache from running hard. I'm searching, looking into the face of every dead soldier and every wounded man. My desperation turns to despair when I see Mordred and know he's dead. Then I'm rowing again, rowing a barge bigger than any we have on the Isle, with the help of three other women. We cross a lake heading to an island but it isn't the Isle of the Blessed; there's no citadel, only one thin tower reaching up to the clouds. In the bottom of the boat is the king's body." Oddly, tears formed in her eyes. She and Arthur had not been on the best of terms for years and even at their last meeting when they finally reached a truce they had been barely more than civil.

"The meaning seems plain."

"But where am I taking him? Why am I concerned for Arthur more than Mordred? If this is a vision, is it a warning or a prophecy? Can I stop it? Should I stop it?"

"You are right to be wary of trying to change the future. Few have the power or the fortitude to bend fate to their will."

"Why do I have these dreams, then? Are they only to torment me?"

"You should be honoured to have been given such a gift."

"They never brought me any peace, only hours lying awake listening to the sounds of other people beginning their day after a night's rest." Along with pitying looks from Gwen and Gaius and condescending stares from anyone else she tried to explain her dreams to. "Morgause did me a kindness in giving me that bracelet."

"Are you certain?"

Morgana stared at the elder. "What do you mean?"

"Did you never ask yourself what dreams Morgause wanted to hide from you?"

"No. I was happy to have a restful sleep. She was going to show me how to use her crystal instead so I could control the visions." Except in all their time together Morgause never did instruct her in scrying. "She said all High Priestesses used the crystals for Seeing."

"Nimueh was the last of the Nine. Morgause was never a High Priestess, regardless of what she claimed."

Morgana stared. Finna was one of the Bendrui, brought up from birth as an initiate in the old religion, but Morgause had been raised from infancy by the priestesses and her knowledge would be nearly as extensive. "She had the blood guard."

"Yes, the few who chose to join her when Nimueh was defeated by Emrys. What else could they do when there were none left to legitimately claim their service?"

"But Morgause was powerful."

"She was, but she lacked an essential attribute of a High Priestess."

"What?"

"Humility."

Morgana's spine stiffened. "But, if Morgause wasn't a High Priestess, am I?"

The grey-haired woman gave her a kindly look. "No. It takes more than exceptional magical power to become one of the Nine. Do not mistake me; you're the one people here look to for succor. I believe in time you will prove to be one of the chosen, a servant of the Triple Goddess, but that time has not yet come."

An old familiar feeling of fear of who she might become twisted Morgana's insides. "What if I'm not worthy?"

"The goddess will make known her wishes in good time. It's our task to increase your understanding and control of the powers she has given you. I don't have your gift, but I do understand the burden it must be to see glimpses of a future you cannot avoid. I can only advise you to use what you see for good." Finna folded her hands across her ample belly. "Let me ask you this: if you could have your bracelet back to block these dreams, would you want it?"

Morgana's mouth opened, then she closed it and let out the breath she had taken. She had no more reason to fear her own power and perhaps, as Finna had said, she could use her visions for good. "It doesn't matter, the bracelet is lost." Amata was drowning in civil war in the wake of the Sarrum's death.

"Perhaps –" Finna was interrupted by a young woman wearing the black cloak of one of her initiates.

The woman dropped to one knee and bowed her head. A blue crescent was painted on her forehead beneath a fringe of black hair. "He's ready, my lady."

"Thank you, Raven. Send him in." Finna's eyes when she turned back to Morgana were hooded.

Morgana narrowed her gaze at the elder. Whoever had been included in the recent arrivals must be a person of importance to have merited an audience with the elder. When Finna got to her feet to face the entryway, Morgana followed suit. Rage surged through her at the sight of a bald, stocky man wrapped in blue robes with both hands clasped on the tall staff he held in front of himself.

"You are not welcome here." Morgana's hand twitched with the urge to send a blast at the Catha priest as powerful as the one his staff had felled her with. She hesitated when he made no effort to defend himself.

"Morgana." Finna's soft tone calmed the demand for retaliation churning in Morgana's gut. "The Isle belongs to the goddess. We cannot turn away any she has welcomed."

"The last time I saw this man, he attacked me. He comes as my enemy."

"You misjudge me, my lady." As always, Alator's expression was bland and his tone was even. "If you are not an enemy of Emrys, you are not my enemy."

Her heart jolted at the name. "Why are you here then?"

"Word has spread through Helva of your restoration of the Isle of the Blessed. This is a worthy task you have undertaken. I am honoured to be in your presence and to offer greetings and thanks from my fellow priests." The tattoos which ringed his neck stretched and relaxed again with his respectful nod.

His expression gave away nothing of fear or deceit. Morgana glanced at Finna. Surely the woman would not calmly invite Alator to this private meeting if he intended harm.

"The Catha wish to restore our sanctuary in this sacred place and to bring back the ancient ways of our order. I am here to beg leave for myself and my fellow priests to join you on this Isle."

Surprise mixed with gratification at his deference. She remembered tales she had been told before deciding to seek out Alator to ask his aid. The Catha were powerful friends and dangerous enemies.

Finna's quiet voice cut across Morgana's swirling thoughts again. "If you truly wish to bring back the Old Ways, you must make peace with all those who follow the goddess."

"I welcome any sincere offer of solidarity."

Alator balanced his staff in the crook of one arm and reached into his robes. "In my recent travels I came across an item of great power. It was forged here. I return it as an offering of friendship."

Morgana's eyes widened at the silver arm band he held out on one thick palm. She looked back at his round face. This man had chosen Merlin over her; he had spurned her payment and cancelled their bargain. Now the band he had coveted had fallen into his hands but he was willing to return it when he had nothing to gain except peace between them.

She approached him and stretched out a hand to take the bracelet. A familiar warmth tingled her fingers as she stroked the delicately engraved emblem of the house of Gorlois. "Thank you for your gift."

Alator nodded gravely.

"I feel I must offer you something in return, something equally precious." Morgana held out the silver band. "A token of peace and friendship."

His eyes widened slightly and he darted a glance at Finna. Then he took the bracelet. "My lady is too kind." Alator bowed his head at her and then repeated the gesture for Finna.

Both returned his obeisance.

"I hope you can sit with us for the meal this evening and we can speak further," Morgana said.

"My lady is generous, but if I may beg your indulgence, I would like to spend the final hours of the day in solitude by the sacred well at the top of the hill."

Morgana glanced at Finna and waited for her subtle nod before granting the polite request.

He gave a short bow. "Then I will go there now."

"Is your companion waiting outside?" Finna asked.

"Yes." Alator's brown eyes twinkled in his stern face. "The others know he's here."

She sighed. "I didn't expect to keep it secret for long."

A nervous flutter swirled in the pit of Morgana's stomach. Her mentor was full of secrets today.

"Have Raven send him in," Finna said.

Alator tucked the bracelet back in his robes and moved to the chamber door to nod at someone in the hall.

Though she had guessed who Alator's companion was, Morgana caught her breath when Merlin appeared. It was a ridiculous reaction. After all, it had only been a few months since she had seen him.

"Hello, Morgana."

"Hello, Merlin."

He wore a dark blue doublet and black cloak that looked amazingly good on his lean frame. More than his clothing had changed and she struggled to pinpoint what it was. Something about the way he held himself, even his walk, projected power that was no longer hidden. Or maybe his burden had become easier to shoulder.

He gave her a shy smile and nodded familiarly at Finna. They must have had a long conversation when he arrived that morning with the Isle's newest residents.

Raven followed him into the chamber, her head properly bowed in the presence of her mistress but her eyes fixed on Merlin's back. Morgana frowned at the young woman.

He turned to Raven. "Thank you for keeping me company."

She stuttered a reply before she dropped her chin to her chest so the hood of her black cloak covered the blue crescent.

Behind her, three more black-cloaked initiates rushed into the room. The first stopped short to stare wide-eyed at Merlin. The next one bumped into her, opened her mouth to snap a reprimand, saw Merlin, and likewise froze even when she was jostled by the third young woman. At a stern glance from Finna, the new arrivals each dropped to one knee and bowed their heads to her. Then they shuffled back to line up behind Raven, keeping their heads properly lowered even while they peeked up at Merlin. He gave them a curious glance.

Morgana strode forward and looped her arm through Merlin's to guide him to the bench with her and Finna. "I'm glad you got a chance to make Raven's acquaintance." Inwardly, Morgana chided herself for the jealous bite in her tone. She gritted her teeth and forced a smile.

Merlin tipped his head to the side. "She told me many good things about you. She said you were one of the best teachers she ever had and she's learned much about healing spells."

The admiration in Merlin's eyes washed away any bad feeling toward the younger woman. "Raven is a good student," Morgana allowed.

"Morgana is our best healer." Finna smiled proudly.

Morgana sat straighter at the elder's praise. "Aithusa helps, too." She turned back to Merlin. "Aithusa is here."

"I know."

"Did you send her?"

His blue eyes were startled. "No. It was her idea. She wanted to keep you company."

Morgana remembered what the Great Dragon had said about Aithusa's bond with Merlin. "I was glad to see her."

He nodded. "She missed you, you know." He took a deep breath. "I missed you, too."

"I'm glad to see you, too, Merlin." She was chagrined to feel her cheeks grow warm at his bright smile and was relieved when Finna asked him about his journey.

A group of women bustled in with food for the evening meal even though it was two hours before the usual preparation time. Uncharacteristically, four men were assisting them with the food. All of them exchanged whispered comments and darted looks at Merlin as they went about their tasks.

After that, a steady stream of people trickled into the room. Usually, they would have been engaged in afternoon chores but it seemed everyone on the Isle had completed their work and arrived early for the evening meal. Singly and in groups, they found excuses to approach Morgana and then waited expectantly, eyes darting between her and Merlin.

She introduced each person in turn. He greeted everyone with a friendly smile though he squirmed slightly when someone bowed to him or stared longer than was polite. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes at the deference and gratitude they showed Emrys.

When a tall man with thin, grey hair and beard arrived, Morgana beckoned him over. "Merlin, this is Ruadan."

Merlin started at the name and fixed his gaze on the man's face.

"Emrys." Ruadan put a hand on the sword at his side and dropped to one knee.

Morgana gritted her teeth. Ruadan of all people should have displayed more dignity.

"You're Sefa's father," Merlin said.

Ruadan's head came up. "Yes. I was on my way to meet her in Camelot when I heard the Pendragon had repealed the ban on sorcery. I came here to find out the truth of the matter."

"You know it's true, then. Arthur has restored magic to the kingdom."

"But how is it possible? The prophecies could not have meant a Pendragon is the Once and Future King and you are far too young to have assisted in his conception and raising."

Merlin's eyes widened. "Is that what I was supposed to do? Ewww." He shuddered.

Ruadan peered closer into his face. "You are young to have shouldered this destiny and accomplished so much already, but your eyes reflect a wisdom older than your years." He turned to Finna and gave her a respectful nod. "You were right, my search for the Diamair is pointless. Whatever Arthur's bane is, it will show itself in its own time, not at my whim. It is best that I return to my studies in Helva."

"Aren't you on your way to see your daughter?" Merlin asked.

"It no longer serves any purpose. If she is not ill-treated, it is best she remain where she is. My path lies in a different direction."

"Do you want to know if she's well?"

"I'm sure she is. She is strong." The grey-haired man straightened. He stood stiffly erect as he said his final farewells and then strode out.

Merlin frowned at the man's back. He seemed offended on Sefa's behalf for the lack of concern her father had displayed. Morgana remembered his reaction to the girl's friendliness on their short journey together. Had he taken advantage of her presence in Camelot to get closer to her? Were they good friends now or even something more?

"Royce made a trip here," Morgana said to regain his attention. "He says Lynette and Bruin are married and have taken in two orphan girls, refugees from one of the villages where the food shortage in the north was most severe."

Merlin smiled. "That's wonderful." A worried expression replaced the smile. "Is everything well with him?"

"He says most of the villagers are treating his grandmother with new respect and fewer and fewer are willing to tolerate Aldrick's attempts to stir up trouble." Morgana tipped her head and smiled slyly. "I think he'll be back here soon given the way he and Gwynna were making eyes at each other."

The wide smile returned and Morgana's heart jolted at the way Merlin's blue eyes grew brighter.

"I'm glad."

"How are things in Camelot?" Finna asked.

"Much has changed already. The knights, even the older ones who served Uther, never questioned Arthur's judgement in changing the laws and officially recognizing me as part of his Privy Council. Not all the nobles of his court are pleased, but they know their choice is either to tolerate me or risk Arthur's wrath." His eyes brightened again. "Gwen took me with her whenever she visited her friends and acquaintances or strolled through the marketplace and made a show of being perfectly comfortable with me. After awhile, the common people became as willing to approach me about magic as they were to request alms from the queen."

Morgana arched one black brow. "So everything is peace and tranquility?"

He stared down at his hands where they twisted a corner of his dark blue doublet. "Some people make the sign against evil as I walk by or duck out of my way when they see me coming. And several courtiers have tried to convince me to use my power over the king to grant them certain favours. They don't believe me when I say I have no magical control over Arthur."

Morgana was not the least surprised.

"There was one incident in a village on the western border, a public burning of a young woman accused of sorcery." Merlin's knuckles whitened on the handful of cloth. "She didn't do anything bad."

Finna leaned forward. "You cannot blame yourself, Emrys. For all his heavy-handed efforts, it took Uther many years to turn people against sorcery and it will be some time before they are at ease again no matter how it is used."

"Arthur rode out himself and arrested those responsible for the burning. He made a moving speech about tolerance and change." Merlin grinned slightly as he looked sideways at Morgana. "You should have heard it."

"I've heard plenty of Arthur's speeches." She tossed her long hair back over her shoulder. Her brother's self-assurance that was so obnoxious in private served him well in public. Though she would never tell him so, she had frequently been moved herself when he addressed a crowd.

"We've heard tales of you, too, Emrys." Finna's green eyes sparkled in her lined face. "Is it true you brought rain to the drought-stricken north?"

"Yes."

"Without aid?"

He nodded, his cheeks pink.

"Amazing," Finna said softly. "Normally such a feat requires the combined effort of several of us working together." His eyes darted away from her intense stare and she sat back, smiling. "Have you seen much of the Isle?"

Merlin shook his head. "I saw the courtyard and Raven told me about the orchard and the sacred well at the top of the hill."

His gaze circled the wide room full of people working effortlessly together to prepare a huge meal. Several times there was a flash of gold in someone's eyes as they went about their tasks. He smiled at Raven when he found her eyes on him. Her cheeks coloured but she smiled back.

Morgana stood. "There will be time before supper to see more of the castle and grounds."

"Yes, please let Morgana show you what has been accomplished in this short time," Finna said. "We can speak during supper about those treasures buried in Camelot's vaults. I will see you two later."

Morgana frowned at the knowing look Finna wore. In their many long talks, there were some things she had not told the elder. How much had the older woman guessed?

Merlin seemed not to have noticed any hint of guile as he stood and said a respectful farewell to Finna. If anything, there was a slight nervousness in his expression when he looked back at Morgana. She tamped down a surge of excitement at the thought of having him to herself for a time.

She kept that thought to herself as she showed him how much of the castle they had rebuilt and the freshly-planted gardens. They paused in a huge chamber which would have dwarfed Camelot's great hall, except it had no ceiling and two walls were rubble.

It was built onto the side of the steep hill in the centre of the Isle. At one end, a spring dripped cold water from a rocky outcropping into a pool the size of a washtub.

"We wanted to restore this sanctum next but we don't yet have sufficient skilled labourers to rebuild the ceiling."

Merlin crouched by the pool and touched the glassy surface which reflected the cloudy grey above. Perfect rings stirred the water in widening circles. "This is a beautiful sanctuary. All of it, I mean, not just this chamber." He looked up at her. "I can feel it, the vibration as if everything here is much more than itself. Every leaf, every drop of water, every creature that stirs with life. Even the stones are full of life."

The appreciative look in his eyes as well as his words made her heart do a slow roll in her chest. "This pool is fed from the same spring that feeds the sacred well on the hilltop. Finna goes up there to scry."

"Do you still see visions?"

"Not often. Never in water and rarely in my sleep anymore." Should she tell him about her dream or would that only enhance his mistrust of the Druid boy? "I'm learning to understand my visions."

His gaze went to her bare forearm. "Did you accept Alator's gift?"

"Yes, and offered him the bracelet in return."

"I'm glad you forgave him." Merlin looked away as he pushed himself to his feet.

"He's one of my own. I would rather have his allegiance than remain enemies."

Merlin glanced sideways at her. "Does that mean …"

She crossed her arms and waited.

He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "Does that mean you can forgive me?"

She tipped her head, pleased when his gaze was briefly drawn to where the curling ends of her hair grazed the neckline of her gown. His cheeks reddened.

"Yes, Merlin. I forgive you."

The relief and joy in his face made her catch her breath. She stepped closer and brushed her thumb over his cheekbones. Then she slid her hand into his hair and pulled him down to press their lips together.

When they parted for breath, he cocked his head. "Aren't you going to ask me to forgive you?"

"For what?"

"You've done some pretty awful things to me."

"You deserved it."

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "I forgive you anyway."

His breath against her ear caused heat to uncurl in her belly. His mouth still hovered beside her cheek and her woolen dress was far too warm. She pressed a palm against his chest and was gratified to find his heart beating as rapidly as hers.

"I haven't showed you my chamber yet."

He chuckled and his chest rumbled under her fingers. "Aren't we expected at that lovely meal I saw being prepared? It smelled delicious."

"I think we have a little time yet."

He smiled as she kissed him again.

END