Charlie settled into Merlin’s hood. It acted as a natural seat for him. With his palmar grasp ability, he could grab onto the fabric around Merlin’s neck to secure himself and hoist his body up just enough to peek over Merlin’s shoulder. Bleedy was situated several yards from them, in front of a large bush. Mousifer and Orb waiting on his back to make their move.

Their plan, if successful, would allow them to get into the Cultist camp, grab some of the sycamara root, and escape without conflict.

If it was successful.

Merlin steeled himself, jogging in place. Charlie bounced with each step. Merlin slapped his face and let out a breath. He turned to look at Charlie over his shoulder. “You ready?” he asked. Charlie nodded. “Cool, well, here’s hoping we don’t die.”

Bleedy gave them one last look before creeping into the bush before him. Merlin walked through the woods a bit, found a suitable opening, and then made his way toward the cultist camp.

They took a moment to survey the camp through the brush.

They were in the early hours of the morning now. Birdsong emanated from the surrounding treetops to Charlie’s delight. It seemingly annoyed a few of the cultist, who looked up dismayed as they worked. The ones that Charlie could make out had weary, beaten faces.

All of them were also wearing the deep crimson robes they had seen on the others earlier. The deep blue runes ran all around the robes, a continuous, interconnected pattern. Each of the robes seemed identical.

Most, but not all, of the men had their hoods pulled above their heads, obscuring their faces. They worked at the center of their large camp, loading crates full of the precious plant into several wagons. When they ran out of empty crates, several men shoveled in the loose piles of sycamara root leaves from the forest floor. Stuffing the wagons as full as possible, in between crates, and wherever they could find the space.

An enormous bonfire roared, a few men huddled around it, taking a brief respite, and warming their hands before returning to their duties. Others walked about, packing up supplies and taking inventory of their goods. Several scattered horses were tied throughout the camp, grazing on hurriedly placed stacks of hay.

There were about twenty men in total.

While Orb’s team tried to stealthily procure some of the sycamara root, Merlin would work to distract the cultist. Charlie had wanted to help steal the sycamara, but Orb had pointed out it would be easier for Bleedy to sneak in and out if he didn’t have the extra weight. So, Charlie settled for Merlin’s surprisingly comfortable hood.

“We can do this, Merlin. We’ll get that root, no matter what!” Charlie said with his mind, trying to sound encouraging.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no matter what. I’d say I draw the line at death…or permanent disfigurement. No matter what, except for those two things. Sound good?”

“Yeah, no matter what!”

“That’s not what I said!” Merlin protested before sighing. “Let’s get it over with.” Merlin covered his face with his arms and shot through the brush. Right into the clearing where the cult’s camp was. The heads of the cultist snapped in their direction. Hooded men drew weapons and cast hexes in preparation. “Well, this is off to a great start,” Merlin muttered. “No audience like a hostile audience.” He cleared his throat. “Gentlemen! How are you doing this fine morning?”

Silence.

Charlie picked a few stray leaves from Merlin’s hair.

A bald man stepped forward with furrowed brows. His hood was pulled down, so his face was visible. Where the runes on his crimson cloak ended, they continued onto his face in the same deep blue shade as usual. He was middle-aged and looked unamused. “Is that a baby on your back?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He turned to a man on his left. “Kill them. Make it quick. We need to go.”

Well, that was fast.

“Actually…” Merlin held up his hands. “I had hoped we might talk…but if not, I suppose this could go another way.” His hands shot high above his head. “Void Hex, Violence.”

A large black hex appeared in the air above him. Tendrils swirled all about it, bursting free and licking the air before being pulled back within the hex. It stood as tall and wide as the wagon Merlin used when performing one of his shows. The menacing sight forced the cult members to pause. The hex just floated there, daring them to give its master a reason to unleash it. “In the mood for a chat now, or should I proceed?” Merlin asked.

Charlie leaned to avoid a bead of sweat as it rolled down the back of Merlin’s neck.

Their leader looked up at the hex, studying it, before motioning for his men to lower their weapons. Merlin had explained that void hex magic was fairly rare and using it would likely make the cultist hesitate. “What do you want?” the cult leader asked. “Did the villagers send you?”

“Hah! The great Merlin doesn’t run errands for villagers. You should know well enough why I’m here. The same reason you are.” All the cultists were focused on Merlin now. There was movement behind them. Bleedy and the others were making their move.

Go go go! Charlie thought. Rooting them on in his head. He didn’t want to distract them.

Bleedy slowly crept toward a wagon on the edge of camp, moving carefully so as not to alert anyone. Mousifer sat on Bleedy’s head, holding his hands out to grab a leaf, even though they still had several yards to go. As if reaching out with tiny mouse paws would make them arrive quicker. Orb floated alongside them, coaching Bleedy forward. Merlin seemed to notice it, too. But he quickly shifted his attention to avoid making the cultist suspicious.

“Well, Merlin, you may call me Od,” the cult leader said.

“You can say that again,” Merlin mumbled.

Od turned to look at a nearby wagon. “The root of the sycamara is quite valuable indeed, but its monetary value is not the only reason we’ve collected it. If it’s money you seek, then…” Od ripped a coin pouch from his waist and threw it toward Merlin. “Take it and go.” Merlin snatched it from the air with both hands. Despite this, the hex remained above.

Charlie pulled himself up further to peer down at the open pouch filled with gold pieces.

Merlin appeared transfixed by the gold. Caught in a state of mesmerization.

One of Od’s men turned to him. “Sir, are you sure about this? That’s most of our coin.”

“We can’t afford to delay any further. If we take much longer, it will cost us far more than gold. You know the price of failure. Lord Arroane won’t tolerate mistakes,” Od said. His man nodded.

“Merlin?” Charlie nudged him with his mind. He poked him in the neck when that didn’t seem to work.

Merlin shook out of his trance. “An interesting proposal…” Merlin said, pretending to ponder it.

In the background, Bleedy finally reached their destination. Several stray pieces of sycamara leaves hung loosely on the wagon’s edge. Even one would be enough.

Mousifer scampered up the side and grabbed one of the pieces. But it seemed stuck. He pulled at it more fervently, growing frustrated, until finally it gave way. But the sudden shift threw Mousifer off balance, and he went tumbling back down, landing on Bleedy’s back. Bleedy looked back, confused, and then turned to look back up just as the stray sycamara leaf landed on his nose.

He sniffed in once, twice, inhaling the powerful scent of the sycamara leaf.

And then he let out a violent sneeze.

The cult members turned their attention from Merlin and locked their eyes on the furry creature, dangerously close to their precious cargo. Bleedy noticed the sudden onslaught of eyes and quickly looked away, going absolutely still. As if hiding his face would make him disappear.

“What the? Get the creature!” Od shouted, readying his hands to summon a hex.

“Nu huh uh,” Merlin said. The hex above his head shook violently, growing larger and more ominous. More sweat dripped down his brow. It took a lot of energy to conjure a hex of this size, even one without any actual power behind it. “Leave the creature alone. You’re dealing with me. Now, I’m going to take this gold, and my furry friend is going to grab some of that sycamara root. After that, we’ll go our separate ways, understand?”

Od snarled, eyeing the large hex above Merlin’s head. He contemplated for a moment, before nodding.

“Good, good. Go ahead, Bleedy.”

Charlie noticed movement in a bush nearby, and locked eyes on the small girl hiding within. It was Hilda. He tilted his head. “Merlin! It’s Hilda! She’s in the bush to our right!” Charlie thought-spoke.

Merlin risked a quick scan and saw her. His eyes lit up. He cleared his throat and returned his gaze to Od, hoping the man hadn’t noticed. But Od was too focused on the flock of birds flying overhead.

The flock of red birds flew by, chirping as they went. Everyone watched: Merlin, the cultist, Hilda, Charlie, and his friends. They all watched as the birds flew straight above. Straight through the massive hex of alleged magic energy. A hex that should’ve sent them plummeting from the sky in a rain of feather and ash.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

But it didn’t.

They continued unharmed.

Unfazed.

One of Od’s men looked at him. “Those birds should be dead. I don’t understand.”

Od shook his head, his brows furrowed. He, too, was confused.

Charlie could sense the sudden shift in the air. The tension. Merlin held his hands up. “I know. That must be confusing. But of course, I’ve spent my entire life studying magic. It’s only natural that I’m able to prevent it from hurting those who I have no intentions of hurting. It’s simple, really. At the end of the day, it’s nothing for someone of my… everyone run!”

Merlin turned toward Hilda, beckoned at her to follow, and then hurried into the forest. She scrambled from the bushes. The cult looked on, bewildered.

Bleedy dashed through cultist legs and around their carts, with Mousifer and Orb in tow. A low pitched “squeaaaaa” could be heard as Mousifer clung onto Bleedy’s tail for dear life. Both the tail and Mousifer flailing in the wind at Bleedy’s quick pace. Orb followed closely behind, dodging legs and feet as he went.

They fled, knowing the cult would be close behind. Merlin looked down, a sudden weight on his right leg. Bleedy looked up at him, clinging to the leg with his limbs wrapped snuggly. “What are you doing? I can’t carry everyone!” Merlin shouted.

Bleedy pretended not to hear, looking over his shoulder for pursuers. Merlin sighed, doing his best to keep his pace. Behind them, Hilda ran, her little legs scampering to keep up. She huffed for air. “What were you thinking, coming out here?” Merlin asked.

“Had to…save…mom…” she managed between wheezy breaths. Charlie managed to turn himself around in Merlin’s hood to cheer Hilda on. His eyes widened when he noticed the two men rapidly approaching on horseback. Merlin had outrun most of the cultist, bolstered by his quick-thinking head start, but not even he could outrun horses.

“Merlin… they’re catching up!” Charlie warned him.

Merlin wheeled around to look. “Great, where is Marvin when you need him?” He looked around the clearing they’d stopped in, cursing under his breath. His eyes darted from side to side, looking for a solution.

A way out.

A dark look spread across his face. His shoulders sagged. “Charlie, go with Bleedy. I’ll hold them off and buy you guys some time,” he said quietly.

Bleedy scrambled off Merlin’s leg and looked up inquisitively at Charlie. Charlie shook his head. “What? Why would we leave you behind?” Charlie said, worry brimming in his bright blue eyes.

Merlin hesitated. “I’m gonna be a good person. Don’t worry about me. Just get back to the village.” He noticed something, and his mouth dropped. Hilda stood there; her fist wrapped tight around a single leaf of sycamara root. “You did it… you got one!” Merlin smiled.

Hilda beamed. “Of course I did! My mom needs it!” She paused to look at it, then made a face, and wiped the plant on the side of her pants.

It was the leaf Bleedy sneezed on.

“That is absolutely disgusting. If you ever have to choose between saving me and giving me medicine that Bleedy sneezed on. Let me die, Charlie. Promise me,” Orb said.

The sound of approaching hooves grew louder. The horses were getting closer. “Hurry, you guys need to go,” Merlin said.

“No!” Charlie said. “I’m not going to leave you behind!”

Merlin turned to look at him over his shoulder. “Charlie, it’s too dangerous. Besides, we need to get that sycamara root to Hilda’s mom as soon as possible. There’s no time!”

Hilda looked at Merlin like he was crazy for talking to a baby. She couldn’t hear the thought speak like the others.

Charlie frowned. Merlin had a good point. He turned to peer down at Bleedy. “Bleedy, Mousifer, keep Hilda safe. I’m going to stay behind with Merlin, okay?” he said. Mousifer and Bleedy looked at him for a moment before nodding.

“Baby.”

“Squeak!”

Charlie smiled. “Thanks guys!”

Orb whizzed in front of Merlin. “Charlie, are you crazy? We can’t stay behind! These cult guys are bad news.”

“Tffttt.” Charlie made a fart noise with his mouth.

Merlin sighed, focusing his attention on Hilda. “Make sure that gets back to your mother, okay?” he said.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” she asked.

Merlin smirked and did a kung-fu motion with his hands. “Of course, I will. I’m a martial arts master. Hu wah!” He said, striking the air.

Hilda let out a breath. “You’re never gonna make it back alive.”

“And you’ll never be a motivational speaker. Now go!” he shouted. Hilda gave him one last look before running into the woods. Mousifer and Bleedy charged after her. Mousifer waved a twig in the air like a knight charging into battle.

“When did he pick that up?” Charlie asked.

“More importantly, why is he acting like he isn’t running in the opposite direction of the bad guys?” Orb asked.

Charlie shrugged. Merlin turned them to face the approaching horsemen. “Well, there are worse ways to die.”

“Like what?” Charlie asked.

Merlin swallowed. “Uhm, well…. I don’t know. It’s just a thing people say!”

The horsemen burst into the clearing and circled him on either side. They jumped from their horses and slowly approached him, a colored hex on each of their palms, waiting to strike if he made a move.

Merlin held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I give up,” he said.

“What are you doing?” Orb shouted telepathically. He’d risen high into the tree branches above to watch. He bounced from side to side with a nervous energy. Charlie tilted his head, wondering what Merlin’s plan was.

The two men exchanged a wary look. One approached, pulling a small rope from a bag on his side to tie Merlin up.

Merlin looked him in the eye as he got close. He leaned in. “Secret technique,” he whispered.

“What?” the cult member looked at him, confused.

“Sucker punch.” Merlin caught the man off guard with the quick jab. The cult member reeled backwards, holding his face.

Blood spewed from his nose. “You broke my nose!” the man said. He pulled his hands away from his face and saw how much blood there was. “I’m… I’m not good with blood…” He covered his mouth and made a retching noise. “Oh no. I can taste it…I’m gonna…” He ran to the edge of the clearing and started throwing up.

“That man must have an incredibly delicate nose. I’m not very strong at all…” Merlin said.

The other cult member fired a burst of flame at Merlin, who narrowly dodged.

He held up his hand again. “Okay! Okay, you got me! Relax! I’m worth far more alive, I assure you.” He backed away slowly, looking for a way out.

“Stop moving! Get on your knees!” The cultist ordered.

“Fine! I will, but…” He hesitated. “Do you think you can hold something for me?”

“Enough games!” A blazing hot, green-elemental hex with fire running along the edges formed in the cultist's hand.

Merlin scoffed. “There can never be too many games!” Merlin’s hand slowly worked behind his back; the cultist noticed. Merlin pulled something out of a pouch on his back and flung a hair-like substance towards the cultist’s face. A ball of fire shot forward from the hex. Merlin did his best to dodge but took a glancing blow to his arm. His cloak sizzled with fire, but he ignored it. He rushed forward and splashed a bottle of liquid on the cultist, who now used both hands to try to pull the hair from his face.

Charlie shrieked in excitement.

Merlin patted frantically at his cloak, putting the fire out on his sleeve. “Are you okay, Charlie?” he asked, turning around.

“Mhm. I’m fine!”

“Charlie, you almost got set on fire! You are not fine! What the heck, man?” Orb added.

The cultist stood; the hair-plant stuck firmly to his face. He’d given up on removing it. Merlin backed away slowly, his back reaching a tree. “You… what did you do?” the cultist asked. “Get it off me!” he yelled. The other cultist continued to puke in the background.

“Oh, that? It’s a little trick of mine. It’s popporri weed. In distant countries, it’s used to make wigs. When combined with a delicately mixed concoction, it sticks to the skin. That’s… not coming off anytime soon…” Merlin said.

The cultist growled and rushed toward the sound of Merlin’s voice. Merlin jumped to the side and gave the man a gentle nudge on the back. The cultist head butted the tree. His body went slack, and he fell unconscious at its base.

Merlin bent over and rested his weight on his knees. “That… was a lot of excitement for one day. We should go before…”

Cultist flooded the surrounding area.

Od stood there at the edge of the clearing. Surrounded by men with hexes, swords, and an assortment of other weapons.

Merlin swallowed.

“Oh, it’s good you’re here!” Merlin said, fishing for time. “This guy got knocked off his horse and hit his head… on a tree. Fell unconscious. And that guy vomiting his guts out over there…well, yeah, I think he ate something bad. Food poisoning. They definitely need medical attention. So, you guys go deal with that, and I’ll just be on my way.” Merlin made a move to run, but more members of the cult stepped out of the forest to block his path.

They were completely surrounded.

“Oh great. This idiot just got us trapped!” Orb said.

“Hey! Don’t call Merlin an idiot! He can’t help it!” Charlie said.

Merlin looked at Charlie over his shoulder. “Somehow, that was worse than what Orb said.” Merlin backed away from the cultist until he was in the clearing’s center. He whispered to Charlie. “I can’t see a way out of this. I’m… sorry. Listen, Charlie. Just pretend to be a normal baby. As long as they don’t suspect your true nature, they might leave you alone.”

Od squinted at Merlin, carefully studying him.

Charlie frowned. Maybe he could try to teleport everyone to his dungeon. At least there, he would be able to help in the fight. He focused.

Transfer!

Dungeon Integrity at 10%.

Transfer to dungeon unavailable.

Charlie shrieked in frustration. “Orb! I can’t transfer us! Do something!” Charlie said.

Orb spun to look downward at Charlie from a branch above. “I can’t! I only have the one spell! It won’t help!”

“Orb! Do it! Merlin can’t fight all these guys alone!”

Orb made a series of quick up and down movements before relenting. “Ugh! Fine, I’ll try. But Charlie, it’ll just be a waste of energy! I don’t even know what to target.”

“Orb!”

“Fine!” Orb paused. “Wait…I’m sensing something…”

Sentience!

Charlie looked around, waiting for something to happen. The cultists were slowly moving in now, still wary of Merlin. They didn’t fully understand why his hex had behaved the way it did earlier. But Merlin had incapacitated two of their members, even without magic. They were being careful. They weren’t sure what to expect.

Orb let out a mental sigh. “I told you, Charlie, my magic isn’t good for combat. It’s no good. I thought that maybe…never mind. We need to find a way out of here.”

Charlie’s grip tightened on Merlin’s cloak. What could they do now?

Attention.

Attention.

Attention.

Charlie tilted his head. The voice was… different this time. “What?” he said.

Interface Integration Complete.