“You do like doughnuts, don’t you?” Merddyn asked. “I mean, as a pastry, they are quite delightful. Consider their variety: so many types to choose from. I am partial to the Hawaiian, myself. All those different-coloured sprinkles. Truly spectacular! Though I don’t see why it’s called Hawaiian. There’s no pineapple in it at all. Or poi. Or roast pig, for that matter. Still, one shouldn’t question perfection. And consider its shape.” He nimbly plucked a plain doughnut from the box and held it in his long fingers. “A circle: the symbol of eternity. One wonders if the Humans realized this when they chose the shape or whether they stumbled upon it by accident, as they so often do. Creatures of instinct, are Humans. Why not make doughnuts square, one might ask? They’d certainly fit better in a box.”
Merddyn shrugged and, chuckling, bit into the doughnut with his strong white teeth. Brendan didn’t know what to say. He watched as the old Faerie chewed happily, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin.
“Are those doughnuts?” Brendan had forgotten all about BLT. She was hanging out of his pocket, eyes wide as saucers. He could practically feel her blood fizzing with desire.
“Oh no you don’t… ” Brendan began, but Merddyn waved a hand. He broke the doughnut in two and gave half to BLT.
“Sweet!” BLT saluted cheekily and sped away with her prize. The man at the counter opened the door for her and she rocketed out into the darkness. Tweezers scampered out of Charlie’s jacket and dashed after BLT.
“They get along pretty well, non?” Charlie laughed.
“Is he…?” Brendan asked, pointing at the counterman.
“Edgar’s one of us, yes.” Merddyn waved. The man smiled, displaying an even set of green teeth, and went back to his newspaper. “Now, forgive me,” Merddyn said, placing the rest of his doughnut back in the box. “You must have many questions, and I’d hazard a guess that none of them are about doughnuts.”
Brendan had a million questions, and he couldn’t begin to choose just one. He decided to start with the simplest. “Why me?”
“Why you?” Merddyn’s eyebrows rose like bushy caterpillars. “That’s fairly broad. Can you be more specific?”
“Why are you here, right now, talking to me?” Brendan asked. “I mean, I’m hardly the only Faerie in the world and you must be a busy guy. You’re Merlin, right? Come on!”
“You know, it never ceases to amaze me how the truly important people I have dealt with throughout history haven’t understood their place in the grand scheme of things. I don’t know if it’s humility, ignorance, or wilful pigheadedness. Take Arthur, for example. He was a lovely boy, perceptive, kind, and clever, but slightly foolish. When he pulled the sword from the stone, or anvil I should say, he was ready to give it to anyone who was willing to take it from him. He needed so much cajoling, but in the end he became the man and the king he was meant to be in spite of himself.”
“If I remember, things didn’t work out too well for him,” Brendan pointed out.
“How so?”
“Well, he got killed, didn’t he? By his own son?”
“Not exactly killed, but that’s beside the point. And was he a failure? People everywhere revere him as a great king. The name of King Arthur is symbolic of nobility and righteousness. Everyone remembers Arthur. Very few remember his son.”
“Mordred?”
“Yes. Annoying little twerp,” Merddyn snorted. “But to the point: why you specifically? Many reasons, most of which would only confuse you.” Merddyn frowned. “Let me just say this: you are uniquely positioned to make a real difference in the world.”
“Me? How could that be possible?” Brendan cried. “Ask Charlie! Ask Greenleaf! Ask Kim! I can barely manage to control my powers. How could I make a difference in the world?”
Merddyn smiled. “I have asked Greenleaf. He has kept me apprised of your progress, and it was he who sent for my help. I assigned Charlie to assist with your training.”
“You sent her?” Brendan asked in disbelief. He glared at Charlie, who gave him a pained smile in return. “So then you know what a washout I’ve been. She must have told you.”
“Your lack of confidence in yourself would be charming if it weren’t so dangerous. Charlie has a great deal of faith in you, you know. I’d say she has become quite fond of you, in fact. Oh my. She’s blushing. It takes a lot to make Charlie blush.”
“Merddyn, please.” Charlie rolled her eyes.
She’s fond of me? Brendan didn’t know how to feel about that. He was kind of annoyed at her but a little excited by the thought. Why didn’t she tell me who sent her? Would it have made any difference? Probably not, but still… it was a matter of trust, right?
“Brendan, you must take my word for it. You are very special. That’s why I came here to meet you,” Merddyn said.
“I don’t feel special. If you mean ‘special’ as in I should be in a class with kids who need extra help, then yeah, maybe. I feel like an idiot most of the time.”
Merddyn smiled. “Well, Charlie thinks you’re quite gifted. As I said, I’ve been receiving reports. I’ve heard about what you did with the tree. And how you broke the circle.”
Brendan nodded.
“I find the incident with the tree particularly fascinating. Can you tell me about it?”
“I don’t understand it myself.” Brendan shook his head.
“Tell me in your own words,” Merddyn said, placing his elbows on the table. “Describe what it was like with the tree. Just take your time.”
Brendan closed his eyes. He tried to remember exactly how he’d felt that day. He sighed and began to talk. He told Merddyn of his frustration, of how Greenleaf had transformed into Orcadia. He recalled how scared he was when BLT was threatened and the fear he felt for his own life. He related how he’d groped for help as he had done before, and the slumbering mind of the tree had stirred at his entreaty and defended him.
“It was like talking to the birds or bugs,” he concluded. “I’ve done that before. It was a matter of focusing harder, I guess. I wasn’t able to get the tree to let Greenleaf go afterwards. I couldn’t get that focus back no matter how hard I tried.”
Merddyn had hardly spoken as Brendan recalled the events. He asked the odd question now and then, prodding him for details. Mostly, he listened. Looking into those soft blue eyes, Brendan felt he could be entirely honest, entirely at ease. It felt good to talk to someone who seemed to understand him so completely. When Brendan finally finished, Merddyn leaned back in his chair and silently contemplated the boy across the table. Brendan found it quite disconcerting.
“Well,” Brendan asked impatiently. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Wrong?” Merddyn blinked and then laughed as if he’d never heard anything so ridiculous. “Wrong! Nothing is wrong, my dear boy, nothing at all. In fact, I suspect that a number of things are exactly right. Difficult but right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Forgive me, Brendan. I’m just trying to figure out how to explain this to you. You see, I haven’t met anyone in centuries, perhaps longer, who has been even remotely capable of understanding.”
“Are you talking about me? I don’t understand anything!” Brendan threw up his hands in frustration. He looked into Merddyn’s blue eyes and saw sympathy there, and a little sadness, too.
Merddyn said, “Brendan, please. I know this is overwhelming. I’ll tell you what I know and what you can understand.”
Brendan hesitated. He looked to Charlie, who smiled encouragingly. Reassured, he sat back.
“Greenleaf wasn’t exactly right when he said that you exhibited a new kind of Talent. It’s really quite an old Talent. And I should know, Brendan. I am one of the oldest of the Ancients. There are few of us left who remember the time before the Pact. Even fewer remember what it was like when the People of the Moon and Metal lived in harmony at the dawn of the world.”
Charlie rose from the table. “I have heard this tale many times. I’ll leave you two to talk. It’s snowing!” She went to the door and opened it, breathing deeply. “I love the snow.” She dashed out into the night.