With his father guiding him, Merlin retreated to the inner edge of the circle, where they sat down next to Mônda and Ganieda.
Merlin placed his arm over his father’s shuddering back. From the other side, Mônda’s sharp nails pricked Merlin on the back of his hand. He yielded by moving his hand farther down and hung on to his father’s thick leather belt.
In the center of the gathering, Mórganthu seemed to be biding his time.
“What’s he waiting for?” Merlin muttered, turning toward his father.
Owain twisted around and appeared to survey the gathering. “He’s a showman,” he said, his voice tinged with anger and pain.
More and more villagers gathered, and by the sound of them, it seemed the entire village had come.
Just as Mórganthu cleared his throat to speak, Mônda dropped her hand down and gouged Merlin again. He jerked his hand away and nursed his wound. There was blood. Why was she doing that?
Mórganthu raised his voice. “I declare to you … I declare that the Stone is angry with this village. The Stone has slain this man because he was found unworthy of it. All who fail to worship and truly love this Stone will be destroyed!”
Mórganthu struck the Stone with his staff, and blue flames erupted from its surface.
Merlin covered his eyes. “Don’t look at it, Tas.”
“Why not? It’s amazing. If you could just see it properly.”
“You’re right,” Mônda said. “And the Stone will make you a chieftain if you follow it. See the respect shown to my father?”
Merlin whispered in his father’s ear. “Mórganthu is lying. Kiff worshiped it, and it killed him!”
Owain shook his head as if shooing away a buzzing gnat. “Yes, that’s right, he was killed. I remember now.” Yet he kept looking at the Stone.
“That’s wrong,” Mônda whispered. “The Stone tried to save Kiff. Don’t meddle like Merlin did. The Stone is wonderful.”
“It’s wonderful to see,” Owain said. “I’ve never felt like this.”
“All … All who desire peace need to worship the Stone,” Mórganthu shouted. “The great god Belornos gives it to you as a gift. You need only fear if you fail him. This man” — he kicked Kifferow’s charred leg — “was killed because not enough of you have chosen to turn back to the old ways.”
“Psst! Tas,” Merlin whispered. “Is Garth here? Do you see him?”
“Sure. Across the circle. That Dybris fellow’s jabbering at him, but the boy just keeps shaking his head and turning away.”
“Will you take me there?” Merlin asked. “I want to talk to him.”
“No. Owain will stay here,” Mônda said.
“I’m going to stay here, Merlin. He’s surrounded by the druidow, and he looks fine.”
Merlin felt helpless.
“Who will step forward?” Mórganthu asked. “And return to the old ways? The ways of Britons before this blight of monks.”
“Tas —”
“Don’t listen to him,” Mônda interrupted.
“Don’t bother me anymore, Merlin, I’m looking at the Stone. It’s —”
Merlin shook his father’s shoulder. “Are any other monks nearby? Any of the brothers?”
“You don’t care,” Mônda whispered to Owain.
Owain brushed Merlin’s hand away. “Why should I even care? Why should you?”
Merlin became infuriated at Mônda’s interference. “I need to know. Tell me, please! Look around.”
“Just Dybris. Satisfied?”
“No, I’m not. You need to speak out against Mórganthu. Tell the people the truth.”
Mônda kissed Owain loudly on the cheek. “My father is good. You like him, Owain, don’t you?”
“He looks stronger today … and kind. He’s not so bad.”
What was going on in his father’s heart? Was this his father talking?
“Surely,” Mórganthu said, his words as slippery as a frog, “surely you all see the beauty of the Stone. All who desire it, come forward!”
The shuffling began. Merlin looked behind him and was amazed how many blurs of people moved toward the Stone.
“Tas, how many?” Merlin asked. “Who’s going forward?”
His father didn’t answer.
“Tas?” Merlin turned back, but his father was gone. Panic set in, and he patted all around for the familiar shape. He soon discovered Mônda and his sister were missing too.
Merlin’s blood raced through his heart, and his legs tensed to spring forward and drag his father back. But it was too late. He felt the chains of his blindness and raged against his inability to stop what was happening.
“Tas, come back!”
The nightmare of the previous night was happening again. But at least Dybris stood nearby. Merlin waited for the monk to speak up, but he heard nothing as the flow of villagers walked to the front of the gathering. Why hadn’t Dybris said something?