“I’ll have to tell them all about this wonderful forest--but I’ll leave out the part about Merlin being mad.”

“He is no longer mad and hasn’t been for some time.”

“Still, there’s no reason to give them even the slightest of reasons to be upset.”

Once again, John-a-Doors gave a sharp smirk. “Look at you, Ms. Quinn. You can see the truth of Fairy now but you still want to tell lies.”

“No, it’s not lying.” Emma shrugged. “It’s simply withholding certain information that a sensitive, elderly couple might find upsetting. Why, John-a-Doors, Merlin’s tower is withheld from me for good reason, is it not?”

“That is true. You are a clever woman.”

“Yes I am.” Emma said smugly. “Your masters were wise in deciding to make me a true fairy woman.”

The fear and uncertainty Emma held concerning her empowerment was gradually receding. Everything seemed to be going exactly Emma’s way. She had a power that obeyed her whims and a fairy gentleman that answered all her questions.

But that damned, sharp smirk that John-a-Doors kept flashing kept needling Emma.

“Yes. Those that stand above me are as wise as they are playful.” John-a-Doors said.

“I agree that they are playful.” Emma said. “They are very playful. If I were them, I would have sent a letter before sending you--no offense, John-a-Doors, it just seems a letter would have given me time to mentally and emotionally prepare for such a strange event. I wish Ernst, Morton, and Glass would have sent a letter before ambushing me at my favorite pub…but that’s neither here nor there. Tell me, John-a-Doors, why can I not see Merlin’s tower in its entirety?”

“In truth, I do not know.”

“Even you do not know?” Emma found it hard to believe that a man who could walk through any door and summon a door anywhere had gaps in his knowledge.

“Even I do not know. There are exactly twelve beings who know, Merlin being one of them.”

“Who are the other eleven?”

“I do not know.”

“Surely you must know something!”

“The information would mean nothing to you.”

“Tell me anyway! I want to know! Oh, I bet Ernst, Morton and Glass don’t know!”

John-a-Doors smirked again, but this time Emma felt confident enough to ask about it.

“Just why are you smiling like that, John-a-Doors?” she asked.

“Oh, my smile is nothing for you to be concerned with, Ms. Quinn. I’m just thinking about something…disconnected from the topic at hand. I do apologize.”

“Ah, is that all? No offense, John-a-Doors, but you have a rather unnerving smirk.”

“I do apologize for that. It was not my intention to be unnerving to you. As you requested, I will tell you what I know of Merlin’s tower, though as I warned, it will mean nothing to you. One of the twelve is an angel and his name is rumored to be Baspalo. None are women. One is a king. One knows a king. One hates philosophers. One is a philosopher. That is all.”

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Emma made a face.

“I told you it would mean nothing to you.” John-a-Doors said.

“Yes, you did. Still, I’m glad to know all that. It sounds like exclusive knowledge!”

“You care for the knowledge even if it means nothing to you?”

“Diamonds and gold mean nothing, save that others don’t have them.”

“That is a very human idea--and a very fairy idea.”

“But John-a-Doors, you’ve only told me about the people that know about the tower. What can you tell me about the tower itself?”

“Nothing.”

“Absolutely nothing?”

“No mortal and few immortals know what transpires in the tower of Merlin. You will neve know, and neither will your descendents. The race of man will pass away and their ghosts will still not know what transpires in the tower of Merlin or even what it looks like below the ground.”

Emma shrugged. “You could have just said no.”

“I wished to impress upon you the impossibility of your request.”

“Consider it firmly impressed, then. Well, as beautiful as this forest is, there is one more departed love one I need to check in on.”

Emma raised out her hands.

“What are you doing?” John-a-Doors asked.

“Practicing. I’m not about to stand in front of my clients and just think my powers into acting. There’s no performance there.”

“There doesn’t need to be a performance.”

“Oh yes there does.” Emma cleared her throat, then began in a loud voice that echoed throughout her house. “Hear me, O spirits! Show us the location of Duncan McBride!”

The floor once again changed and showed Emma and John-a-Doors a gleaming white castle on the shores of a lake of the purest blue water. The castle’s walls were as smooth and white as ivory. Its towers flared at their peaks like palm leaves or bird wings. Swans as white as the castle’s walls floated on the water’s surface and ghosts, or perhaps faeries, clad in armor as white as the swan’s feathers and surcoats as blue as the water sparred with glowing swords that seemed like thorns plucked from the halo of the sun. The appearance of the weapons reminded Emma of the gaeite candles used by the manesologists when electricity ran through them and produced olprt radiance.

“What is this place? Who are those people? What are they doing?” Emma asked. She was brimming with questions about this new location. There seemed to be no end to the wondrous surprises of Fairy.

“You gaze now upon Joyous Gard, the castle of Lancelot, and the Lake of Vivian, in whose mystically cool waters she tempered the blazing weapon that is Excalibur until it was claimed by Arthur, greatest of the kings of men.” John-a-Doors explained. “On the shore holding practice are the Swan Knights, who take after the famed Lohengrin, founder and leader of the Swan Knights.”

“Oh! Oh, wonderful!” Emma exclaimed. “So little Duncan is now a knight?”

“It would seem that way.” John-a-Doors said.

“His parents will be thrilled! And he knows Lancelot! I can’t wait to tell them that!”

“Lancelot no longer resides in Joyous Gard and hasn’t for some time.’ John-a-Doors said. “He rests on the isle of Avalon, with Guienvere. But Vivian remains in her lake. She was entrusted at her birth, as a princess of the Seelie Court, to care for the lake and the power it contains.”

“Oh. Well, the Lady of the Lake is not the most celebrated figure of Athurian history, but it’ll have to do. She sounds like a princess. Is she a princess? Can I tell them that she’s a princess?”

John-a-Doors looked at Emma as if she was an idiot, then sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Emma asked.

“Your ignorance surprises me.”

“Well, it’s not as if you and your kind gave people good reasons to learn all the minutia of your stories. Half the world didn’t think your kind even existed before your Great Procession around the planet.”

“Vivian is not “minutia,” as you put it.” John-a-Doors said sharply. “She was the caretaker of Lancelot, through whose line came Percival, who achieved--”

John-a-Doors sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It was a minor episode, surely.”

“It was not, but as I said, it doesn’t matter here. And to answer your question, Fairy titles of distinction do not translate exactly to what humans use, but I suppose she would be considered a…Duchess, under your system.”

“Oh. Well, it’s not a princess, but it’ll do! What are those swords made of that the knights in the fancy armor are swinging around?”

“Nothing you would understand.”

“Well, that’s not going to help me much, John-a-Doors. Duncan’s parents are going to ask me what those swords he and his friends are fighting with. I can’t say they’re like nothing they can understand! That makes it seem like I don’t know what I’m talking about!”

“You don’t.”

“Oh, don’t be that way, John-a-Doors!” Emma said. “Come now, what are they? Are they made of something like gaeite? They glow like gaeite. Come now, you told me what little you could about the tower, tell what you can about the swords! They’re so pretty!”

“They aren’t anything like gaeite. They’re closer to the sun than gaeite.”

“So what are they?”

“They are claimh solais.”

“Ohhhh that sounds fancy! I can’t wait to tell his parents!”

“They are weapons crafted from the shadows cast by Excalibur, the ultimate weapon.”

“I beg your pardon, John-a-Doors, but those swords seem too bright to be formed from shadows.”

“Excalibur, such as it is, casts shadows that are brighter than stars.”

“And Excalibur is a sword, correct?”

“Yes, but keener than the swords used by angels, and angels use swords made out of fire.”

“Hmm…” Emma made a face. “I think I’ll leave all this stuff out when I talk to Duncan’s parents--I dare say it sounds too complicated for me!”

“I told you that you wouldn’t understand.” John-a-Doors said.

“I understand enough, I think. They’re related to Excalibur, as much as swords can be related to anything. That little detail would impress Duncan’s parents, but it would leave them terribly confused.”