“I like Zen riddles. ‘Koans’ they’re called, by the way. Buddhism has some wonderful mystical traditions. And Buddha himself was a very sweet fellow. So curious and good-hearted. A wonderful student.”
“You’re telling me you taught Buddha?”
“For a brief time. He had the idea already. I just gave him a nudge in the right direction.”
“Buddha was a… one of us?”
“Oh, no! He was a Human. Like Jesus and Mohammed and Zarathustra. Enlightened Humans who saw that there was a pattern underpinning the world we think we know. But that is beside the point. What we have here is a difference in perception. You see a glass of water. I say that within this glass is all the water in the world.”
Brendan just stared. “I don’t get it.”
“You have to see all the water in the world as one thing, no matter how it’s parcelled up. Those partitions-a glass, a lake, a river, an ocean-are all boundaries we place on a thing so that we can better understand it. What they actually do is make it impossible to understand that thing completely.”
Brendan thought about that. “But I can’t possibly hold the image of all the water in the world in my mind. It’s too huge.”
“Better philosophers than I could and would elaborate on this idea, but for our purposes, it isn’t necessary. I just want you to think in a new way.”
“So I’m thinking in a new way,” Brendan conceded. “How does this relate to me, exactly?”
“The energy Faeries draw upon, the energy that fuels our glamours and our Wards, is like that ocean. In the distant past, we were able to see this ocean of energy as a continuous thing, without a beginning and an end. We could manipulate the energy and make the universe do our bidding.
“Now that perception is gone. We’ve lost our ability to see. The Fair Folk now dip a bucket into that proverbial sea and believe that the bucket of water is all there is. There is a problem with our thinking.”
“But I don’t even have a bucket,” Brendan said in exasperation. “I haven’t even got a cup!”
“You’re wrong, Brendan.” Merddyn smiled. “You grew up without the mindset a Faerie usually has when he’s raised in our world. You have no preconceived notions about Talents and Arts. You are having trouble because you can’t understand the restrictions we have come to set upon ourselves. You are unique.”
“I am? I don’t get it. I can’t seem to master any skill.”
“No. You don’t seem to need to master those skills. Because your mind is unrestricted, you can manipulate the energy of the universe spontaneously. When you are pushed by necessity or danger, you just draw on that energy and create what you need to overcome the problem.
“Allow me to illustrate another point. Watch.” He plucked a chocolate-glazed doughnut out of the box. “What is this?”
“A doughnut.”
“Yes, but it is also anything I wish it to be because it is made of energy. I can manipulate that energy with my will.” Merddyn closed his eyes and concentrated. The doughnut shimmered, melted, swirled, and then solidified into a pebble. The small stone remained for only a moment before it, too, transformed into a handful of feathers. The feathers crackled and turned into a blue flame that danced in Merddyn’s wrinkled palm and finally disappeared, rising as smoke toward the rafters. “They are all the same. The doughnut, the stone, the feathers, the flame.”
“Mass is energy,” Brendan said with hushed awe. “Einstein.”
“A clever fellow, Albert. I guess someone has been paying attention in physics class.” Merddyn smiled.
“What about living things?” Brendan said suddenly. “Why not change the doughnut into a bird or something?”
Merddyn frowned. “That’s very difficult. Life is very complicated. To create it means that you must have the insight and wisdom to construct a soul for your creation. Very arrogant and very dangerous.”
“So… what does this mean for me? I can do things because I have no preconceived ideas? I’m some kind of Faerie freak? I’m… what do they call those people… an idiot savant?”^ 46
“A savant, perhaps,” Merddyn agreed. “An idiot? I think not. I believe you are like the Fair Folk when they were in their infancy, in the most Ancient of times. You’re a throwback but a wonderful one. I believe you are what all Faeries should be. When I first heard of you, I was intrigued. I asked Ariel to keep an eye on you and inform me of your progress. What I learned excited me. I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time. I thought our Charlie might have been the one.”
“Charlie?”
“Yes. She grew up in the Human world, ignorant of our ways. I thought she might be the clean slate I was looking for. Alas, I found her too late. She’d already been partially trained by a native Shaman. Her mind had been set. Her ability is quite unique and beautiful, don’t you think? Quite unlike anyone else’s in the Faerie world.”
“She’s kind of terrifying. I wouldn’t want to cross anyone who could turn into a bear if I got them upset,” Brendan said. “Wait a minute, though. Isn’t she a shape-shifter? There’s a guy at the Swan of Liir on the Ward’s Island who can change into a lion.”
“Ah, yes. Leonard! Charming fellow. You’re right, he is a shape-shifter, but shape-shifters can assume the shape of only one animal. Charlie has several in her repertoire.”
“Oh.” Brendan nodded. “I see. Okay, I’m unique. I understand that. I don’t mean any disrespect but… so what?”
The old Faerie became serious. His pale blue eyes locked on Brendan’s and held him fast. “Brendan, I have stood by and watched for countless years as this world has gone on its way. I’ve tried my best to tweak things onto a better course, to forestall a dark future that haunts my dreams. We are living in a dark time. The balance is slipping. The Earth is suffering. She is sick from centuries of neglect and exploitation to the point that she may fail completely. Something must be done.”
Brendan felt a cold fist clench his heart. He held up his hands in protest. “No. Don’t do this to me. Don’t tell me I’m the only hope for a dying world. Are you kidding me? I’ll lose it, I promise you.”
“No, not the only hope. But I believe you are a part of a solution,” Merddyn insisted. “Together with others who share our wish for a better world, we can possibly reverse the damage before it’s too late.”
“Do you people ever stop?” Brendan shouted. “You’re all trying to drive me insane. ‘You’ve gotta find an amulet!’ ‘You’ve gotta master your powers.’ ‘You’ve gotta pass a test or die trying.’ ‘You need to save the world!’ Seriously? I’m just a kid. I should be hanging out with my friends and playing video games. Instead, I’m running from psycho Faeries! Oh, and of course a girl who can change into a deer, a bear, and a wild pig!” Brendan stood up and marched for the door. He whirled and pointed at Merddyn. “Who do you people think you are? None of you care about me! You all have your games you’re playing, and you want me to jump in and join you. Well, I don’t want to. I wish I’d never found out about all this stuff. I wish Deirdre had just left me alone and let Orcadia kill me.”
“It’s no game, Brendan.” Merddyn’s voice was soft. He gently shook his head. “I wish things were different, easier for you. I have no right to ask anything of you. I am only appealing to you who have family in both worlds to think about helping me. I need you. Your families, both Human and Faerie, need you.”
Brendan felt the anger drain out of him. He looked at Merddyn and saw not a powerful wizard out of legend, but a desperately weary old man asking for help.
“I’m sorry,” Brendan said. “It’s just… so much. I have to think. Will you be coming to the Proving?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Merddyn said. “And Brendan? Can you keep our little meeting just between the two of us? Like you, I value my privacy.”
Brendan nodded. Then he turned and fled into the night.