Sean Cullen - The Prince of Two Tribes

“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.

Edgar folded up his newspaper, picked up a pot of coffee from the warmer, and came over to Merddyn’s table. “More coffee, sir?”

“A little. Thank you, Edgar.”

Pouring the coffee, Edgar said, “He’s a nice kid. He’ll come around.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I run a doughnut shop. You get a feel for people.”

Merddyn smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to have faith in your judgment, Edgar.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“I used to think the same thing a few thousand years ago.” Merddyn smiled sadly and turned his attention to the important task of choosing another doughnut.

^ 46 The term idiot savant is old-fashioned now. It was used to describe someone who was capable of accomplishing one very complicated task, despite being of below normal intelligence or mentally challenged. For example, a person whose brain was faulty in some way and couldn’t speak might perform extremely complicated mathematical functions in his or her head. I once knew a beaver that could slap out pi to the three-hundredth decimal place. It wasn’t an idiot savant, however; it was merely amazing.

Brendan had left the doughnut shop intending to go home. Instead, he’d found himself running, faster and faster. At first, he had no idea where he was going. He just needed to move. He didn’t want to think about anything but speed. It was the only way he could wipe his mind and exhaust himself to the point where he could fall asleep. At last, he went home and crawled into bed without even changing into his pyjamas.

For the next three days, he was irritable and distracted. His parents were too busy with work and Christmas preparations to notice his mood. Delia, surprisingly, stayed out of his way. He went to school and sleepwalked through classes, alone. Charlie didn’t come around, as if sensing that the meeting with Merddyn had left him needing some time and space to himself. Each night he waited until he was sure everyone was asleep and then, once again, he raced through the streets, trying to banish his worry and confusion with the burning sizzle of the warp singing in his blood.

On the third night, the night before the Proving, he followed the Humber River north into the countryside. As he left the blaze of city lights behind, he could see the stars wheeling above him. Now and then, a star raced steadily across the blackness: a satellite, his father had told him years ago. He was always amazed that the works of Humans were visible in space, a sign that they were constantly reaching for more in the universe. Brendan turned and swung across the top of the city, ghosting along just outside the reach of the halogen lamps that lit the freeway, until he reached the Don River and headed south.

South he flashed, keeping to the back alleys, staying in the shadows and away from the people who frequented the nighttime streets. The speed didn’t come easily to him now. His mind was troubled, turning over what Merddyn had told him. How could he be so important? How could he be the key to anything? He looked up to the stars but could barely see them in the wash of light pollution.

Humans have no idea how much more there is to the world. Even my parents, with their recycling and green habits, will never see it the way I can, the pain and the poison. I can feel it in the air. I can feel it my lungs when I breathe. If I think too much about it, I’ll go insane!

He staggered to a halt in the shadowed doorway of St. Michael’s Church, in the heart of the winter city. The streets were quiet save for a few late revellers. He couldn’t see them but he heard the mobs heading along Church Street. They shouted back and forth, sang at the top of their lungs. He envied them their easy mood. He found himself sliding dangerously toward self-pity.

He leaned back against the weathered wooden door of the cathedral. Christmas with his family was probably his favourite time. His mum and dad were big fans of the holiday and tried to impart its traditions to their kids. There was midnight mass on Christmas Eve, though they rarely went to church any other day. They came here, to St. Michael’s. Brendan closed his eyes and tried to remember the smell of the incense and the sound of the choir as it filled the vaulted space.

He needed some peace. He couldn’t catch his breath. Everything was just too much: the revelation of his true heritage, and now the pressure of the Proving. To top it all off, here was Merddyn, the great Merlin himself, telling Brendan that the fate of the world might rest on his shoulders. How could he hope to bear such a heavy burden? Only weeks ago, the biggest thing he’d had to worry about was his crush on Marina Kaprillian. Now he wasn’t sure if he’d live to come back to this church with his family on Christmas Eve.

He didn’t hear Kim’s approach. Suddenly, her voice was in his ear.

“There you are!” Kim melted out of the shadows and trotted toward him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. People were worried sick.”

“Oh,” Brendan grunted. “Well, you’ve found me. You can go tell everyone I’m fine.”