“Who?” Michael asked.
“Can you truly travel through time?” Surrey asked.
“Mr. Green, for one,” Simeon told Michael, ignoring the other question. “We should all disperse.”
Colin looked over the side. “The men are still down there.”
“You should go speak to them, Investigator,” Surrey advised. “I’ll handle this Mr. Green person.”
The baron was clever…and curious. Michael had to get rid of him. “No. You go down there and let those men know reinforcements are coming. Take Colin and William with you.”
Surrey smiled and bowed to him. “As you wish.”
He surrendered too easily but there was nothing else Michael could do short of knocking him out.
“Michael?” Charlotte said, still in his arms on the ground. He wouldn’t leave her unless he had to fight to save her life. Then, he wouldn’t lose.
“Yes, my love?”
“I’m happy it was not your hand that killed Preston.”
Yes. He knew she would be. However he felt about the viscount and the things he did and had done, Charlotte had her own feelings and they were different than his. He hadn’t wanted to be the one who took her oldest friend’s life, no matter what Preston deserved.
“So am I, love.”
The air behind Simeon began to sparkle. A breeze from the south filled Michael’s nose with the scent of apples. He thought it odd and turned to Charlotte to remark on it when he saw two men mounted on great warhorses appear from out of the shimmering clouds above her. The horses wore trappings depicting a dragon.
Michael recognized the two of them, though he couldn’t believe his eyes. They appeared more primitive now in their leather armor and fur jackets, with two-edged swords dangling from their belts.
“You heard him,” saidLuke. “’Twas the same as before. They were sent for love. The brooch has been tampered with for certain.”
His companion, Sir Gawaine, eyed Michael with the same dark eyes that had looked at him through glasses in an office once before. “By Merlin.” They both turned their gazes on Simeon.
Michael’s eyes opened wide. “Merlin?”
Simeon shook his head. “I would know.”
“We have been trying to find you, Traveler,” Sir Luke told him. His destrier snorted beneath him. “You are difficult to pin down.”
“Well, you can thank the one who cursed me for that.”
“Who was it?” Gawaine demanded.
“A witch.”
“What witch?”
“How am I supposed to know what witch? They have names? I never believed in them before, so I didn’t ask questions. And why have you been trying to find me? Who told you I was Merlin?”
“She wants you found,” Luke told him. “She wants the spell broken and Mordred found.”
“Why are you questioning me about this?” Simeon demanded. His voice sounded a bit shaky. “I’m not Merlin!”
“We think the witch was Morgan Le Fey,” Sir Gawaine overrode his voice. “And part of the enchantment is that no one remembers who they are, or who anyone else is. I could be Arthur, and none of us would know it.”
“You’re not Arthur,” Simeon said with a smirk. “And I’m not Merlin.”
Luke reached for him, but he disappeared. Michael hid his smile.
