Eric and the Quantum Dragon

Epilogue Four

Wondrous Bats Company, Wales, Re-United Kingdom

Merlin Jones was seated at his workbench, patiently sanding down a willow cricket bat, when the bell attached to the front door to his shop tinkled warningly. He cocked an ear towards the noise, grimaced, then went back to running the fine grit paper over the wood.

His uninvited guest was silent as always, despite the heavy coat of iron scales she wore.

“Good evening, Merlin” she announced from the doorway to his workshop. “The door was open so I thought it would be okay to come in”

“Welcome, Cassandra” he muttered grumpily. “Nice of you to visit your old master” He nodded to a wooden chair set near his fireplace, the embers still glowing with flickering flames. “Warm yourself up over there. All that cold iron must be sapping your strength”

The woman was tall, her dark glossy black hair falling from a top-knot to touch her waist. Dark green eyes watched him from her narrow, elfin face as she glided to the offered seat. She sat without making a sound, the metal scales of her armoured skirt and byrnie unnaturally quiet.

“So what brings you out this early in the new year?” Merlin asked her. “The snow must still lie thick about your home”

Cassandra smiled at him, her face appearing even more sharp and pointed.

“I heard a rumour that the Beginner of Fates was loose in the world once more” she spoke, her words soft and sibilant as if her tongue was not used to speaking the human languages. “There are whispers that its power has been felt in distant lands”

“Impossible!” scoffed Merlin. He laid down his sandpaper and gestured to a dark metal box at one end of his workshop. The box was banded in bronze, with large domed rivets of iron binding the structure together. It looked as if the box was built around something protruding from the earth and stood over six feet tall.

Long, silvery chains bound the box, which had a hinged pair of doors facing into the centre of the room. The chains ran through stout iron loops on the doors and were held closed by a sturdy padlock the size of a man’s hand.

“There is a sword within, trapped in the stone” he declared. “I would know better than anyone if it was in the hands of mortals”

The woman stood and drifted on barely seen feet to stop an arm’s reach from the metal construction. She lifted her hand as if to touch the metal chains, then snatched it back.

“Will you open it for me, Master, that I may see for myself?” Her words filled Merlin with a desire to do as she commanded, a compulsion a lesser being would have obeyed. He shrugged off her charm, not without effort, and shook his head.

“No, not tonight, Cassandra” he replied steadily. “To open the chamber would be far too dangerous. You will have to take my word the sword is where it is meant to be”

Cassandra regarded him with her green eyes like a snake watching a mouse.

“I see” she responded with a sly laugh. “You give me words of truth, even though their meaning may not be what I asked”

Merlin met her gaze without concern, his tired old eyes giving nothing away.

“Surely you are the master of that art” he countered and she laughed again.

“Very well, Master” she said at last. “I will take my leave from you. It appears I must go travelling once again” She swept towards the doorway, her passage leaving no sound nor trace upon the sawdust covered floor.

“Take care in your travels, Cassandra” he warned her gently. “The world is not as you remember it”

She paused and gave him a look, one that spoke of older times when the pair had been friends. It passed and her dark eyes hardened to a deeper green, the hue of ancient forests and forgotten lands.

“The world may have forgotten me, but I remember everything about the lands beyond” she answered. “Don’t fear for me, dearest Master”

With that she was gone and not even the front door bell tinkled as she passed. Merlin heaved a sigh of relief and glanced at the ancient metal box. He fished a key out of a pocket in his robes and stood, brushing wood dust from the heavy fabric.

He shuffled to the box and slid the key into the lock, undoing the heavy padlock and unwinding the chains. Once the doors were unbound he pulled them open, letting the light from his fireplace fill the space within.

A low mound of stone stood there, buried into the earth. The sides were roughly carved with old Runes and the top had been chiselled flat. At the very centre was a slot, just wide enough to accept the blade of a sword. Merlin reached in and grasped the wire wrapped hilt of the sword that lay buried halfway into the stone and pulled it free.

With a slow rasp of metal on stone the sword was drawn from its rocky sheath and he held it in the light. It had rusted a little and he cursed the moist rock for damaging the replica sword.

“Dammit!” Merlin muttered to himself. “The guy at the souvenir shop assured me this was stainless steel!” He went to his work bench and found a rag and some oil and gave the cheap blade a quick wipe.

“There, all better” he announced to no-one and slid the sword back into the stone. The doors were shut and he re-wound the chains to hold them closed once more. Once the padlock was secured he dropped the key into his pocket and ambled back to his chair.

“The Iron Witch is going to find the world a much harder place to conquer than she remembers” Merlin said aloud, as if to an unseen listener. Only darkness surrounded him, lurking in the corners of his workshop.

“You should not underestimate her” the darkness answered.

“I don’t” Merlin replied. “Cassandra can sense the Children of Avalon are awakening and it frightens her. The time of Dragons may be coming again”

“They never went away” said the shadows and for a moment two blood red eyes gleamed there. They blinked and then faded like the embers of the fire.

The End of Eric and the Quantum Dragon

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