nose. He couldn’t be sure, having never seen Garth properly. He called out, but the sobbing boy didn’t seem to hear as he stared at a bloodied bundle of cloths in his lap.
Merlin scrambled over the ledge as a flash of light filled the sky. All at once, between him and the boy stood the man dressed in white, the angel from his first vision. He spoke, and his voice shook the air like a thousand thunders.
“STAND STRONG, MERLIN!”
Crom roared from behind, too close. Panic welled up in Merlin, and he wanted to run, but he kept his gaze on the angelic figure before him.
“I tol’ you, little crunchkin,” Crom said, his breath like rancid fire wafting over Merlin, “that the boy is mine.”
As Merln turned to face the monster, a club thudded him on the head, and Crom pulled him back down the rocky slope.
Merlin yelled as he twisted away from the grip on his legs. He kicked violently, but they were held too tightly. He struggled to sit up, finally opening his eyes.
A vague blur moved toward him, and someone grabbed his shoulders. “Easy, boy. You’ll wake the High King himself with your bellowing.”
Merlin drew in a great shuddering breath. “Tas? Where am I?”
“In bed. The sun rises, and I just started my work, no thanks to you.”
Merlin touched his head; his right temple throbbed. “Crom hit me on the head …”
“What?” The blur he knew as his father’s face drew in closer. “Don’t you remember last night? Mórganthu, it was.” His father stepped away for a moment, then pulled up a chair.
“I recall walking with Gana … Oh … now I remember.”
His father slammed his hand on the table next to Merlin’s bed. “You caused a riot.”
“Me? And Mórganthu did nothing?”
“You swung first, rabbler.”
“Only after Prontwon was hurt.”
“Allun and Troslam helped me pull you —”
“I can handle myself!” Merlin sat up, but his head pulsed, and he almost fell over.
“Can you now?” Owain said. “After Mórganthu wrenched your staff away, he walloped you like hot barstock on the anvil. The druidow wanted to rip you to rags. We took you out.”
“What happened to … to …”
His father itched his beard. “To your friend? Mórganthu ended the meeting and announced he’ll speak again at noon today. Garth marched out with them like a dwarf legionnaire.”
“And Prontwon? How is he —”
Owain snorted. “Don’t know. I was worried about you. Carried you home. That Garth, he’s caused enough trouble!”
“You care too. Remember the bagpipe?”
“Stop risking your life.”
Merlin leaned back against the rock wall of the smithy. “And you’ve never risked yours? You’ve hinted of your past. Tell me, Tas.”
There was a long pause, then Owain cleared his throat. “I can’t.”
“Did you ever care about something enough to risk your life for it?”
His father drank from the pitcher and wiped his mouth against his sleeve. “Just for my family. Family is all that matters.”
Merlin felt a tightness in his chest, but he pressed further. “And the villagers have no families? Tell them what you know about Mórganthu.”
“You want me to preach like Prontwon? You’re more of a fool than I thought.”
Merlin couldn’t hide his excitement. “You’re respected, Tas. They’d listen —”
“Did that staff completely addle your brains?”
“You threw Mórganthu out —”
His father put a hand on Merlin’s mouth. “Why’d you bring Gana to the bonfire and leave her?”
“I —”
“Mônda and I came home — and I lugging you. But Ganieda was gone. Know where I found her?”
Merlin shook his head.
“At that Stone. Some of the druidow were guarding it, but a lot of villagers hovered around. Some were touching it.”
“Who?” Merlin was shocked.
“Grevin. Stenno. Priwith. And Olva brought her sick child. Two of Tregeagle’s men were there. I had to drag your sister home.” And then his father’s tone turned to a whisper. “Did you sense it? The Stone’s power?”
“You mean the flames?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. The longer I looked at the Stone … It’s hard to describe. It stirred something deep within me. I wanted to touch it, but I had to get Gana back.”
Merlin thought about the Stone. It had hurt Prontwon and enchanted Garth. How did it have such power? If only he could see it clearly, maybe he’d understand. “Are you going at noon?” He reached in vain for his father, who had risen.
“Yes. But early. I want to see the Stone without Mórganthu present.”
“I’m going too, then.” Merlin stood. His head still hurt, but he wasn’t about to let his tas go near that