Page 37 of The Trick of It

The man in the cassock bowed his head, as though to acknowledge he’d heard his answer. “And you do not wish to be cured instead?”

Merlin gave a gentle smile. “Thank you for asking, Father Wheeler. But no. I do not wish to be healed.”

“Then why did you invite a faith healer?” another man demanded, stepping into the light and sneering at the vicar.

“To watch,” answered Merlin, kindly and patient. “And be convinced it is possible, Master Yuri. Much the same as watching you move things with your mind, the father’s acts of wonder astounded me.”

Seph heard Rhys scoff softly to himself.

There was another snort near them, drawing Seph’s attention around to a woman standing near the table of food, though she was barely as tall as its legs. She pulled her coat tighter around her tiny shoulders and lifted her chin, as though she’d felt Seph’s eyes, and met her gaze with a little smile.

“When is this recital?” Madame Ivanova asked, louder than she’d been before. “How much time shall we have to prepare?”

“I shall remain on this Earth through the end of the month,” Merlin answered, his voice calm and steady, as though he were simply discussing his travel plans and not his mortality. “After Samhain, I shall be departing for shores unknown. It seemed, to me, appropriate.”

“This is a charitable endeavor, I imagine?” the priest asked, his hands folded in front of his cassock.

Merlin laughed at that, a soft chuckle that rumbled through his narrow ribs. “Of course not,” he said. “I know better than any that we have to survive through our talents. I should never ask them to be given for free. All of you will be paid your performance fees. And, before I go, whoever has instilled within me the most hope shall receive my estate, and along with it, my book of secrets, my mask, and even my identity, should you wish to make use of it.”

There was a laugh, not a tinkling, sweet one, either, but a full, amused belly laugh, bursting out of the lady dwarf near the table, her fingers coming up over her mouth. “Pardon me,” she said as everyone turned to stare at her, an American accent escaping her lips. “Forgive me. I just … It is only people might be a little confused, if Merlin were suddenly to appear on stage as a woman. And four feet tall.”

“Ah, my dear Mrs. Winterstone,” Merlin said, brightening at her. “I did not see you there.”

“You never do, darling,” she replied with another laugh. “Perhaps I’ve already won.”

“Perhaps you have,” he agreed fondly.

She laughed again, shaking her head, and went on her tiptoes to pull her glass of wine down to her lips. “I don’t need your money, Merlin,” she said. “I’m happy to dazzle you gratis. Sorry to hear you’re dying.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he replied. “But I insist.”

She chortled and shook her head, nursing her wine without further comment.

Seph tried not to stare at her, but she was not certain she had ever seen a more intriguing person in her life. She wondered what her talent was.

“Mind-reader,” Rhys said, glancing up at her. “She’s with the circus.”

Seph swiveled her head down to glare at him, which only got a grin in response, his teeth glowing in the dark.

“Ah,” Merlin said, his voice softening as it dropped another velvety octave. “The Changelings.”

It made Rhys stiffen under her fingers, both of them turning to look at him in what were likely identical expressions of horror.

“You came,” he said. “She said you would.”

“Who said that?” Rhys asked, pushing himself to his feet. “Do you have my watch?”

Merlin only smiled, wrinkles stretching over his mouth. “No.”

“We don’t perform that trick anymore,” Seph said. “We haven’t in many years.”

He bowed his head. “I understand. I make no demands of specific awe. But I do hope you make an exception. I should very much like to see it one more time.”

Seph squeezed her arms around herself, her jaw aching with the strength of her frown.

“But that is all for tonight,” Merlin announced, breaking his gaze from them to look over the others. “Enjoy the refreshments and consider my request. I shall happily provide accommodation to anyone who requires it and wishes to stay in Lewes. Otherwise, we will plan any necessary specifics on the morrow. I simply wished this midnight gathering as a final indulgence of my own particular whimsy. Thank you for coming.”

And with that, he retrieved his mask from the table, held it up to his face, and swept a gallant bow.