Myrddin speaks to his minion

The jinni landed so close to Myrddin that his wings nearly enfolded the old man with their last stroke.

“You are not to be calling me in this season. I was far from here.”

Myrddin snorted. “As if that makes any difference to you. Don’t expect me to believe you flew all the way here. Don’t expect me to believe you needed to fly at all. And don’t expect to impress me with it, either.”

Dantalion grabbed a tuft of white beard in each hand. “Mortal!” he growled.

“You can’t be certain of that until I’m dead.”

“Would you mind if I performed an experiment to verify?”

“Don’t expect to impress me that way, either.” The hand that Myrddin lifted to caress the mark on the jinni’s cheek was gentle, but his voice was suddenly venomous. “Minion!”

Dantalion reared back his head. “What do you want?”

“I want an explanation. I’ve been waiting to get it, and my patience has at last run out.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Where is the child you promised me?” Myrddin hissed. “What idiot brought it to the abbey? Why did you tell them about me?”

Dantalion folded his arms and swept back his wings. “I did not tell them about you. And the ‘idiot’ who brought it to the abbey has been dealt with.”

“Who was it?”

“The elf Dartesas. An ‘idiot’, as you said.” Dantalion waved a dismissive hand but sighed regretfully. “I admit I am a little sorry I killed him, though it was a rare delight to see the Lar-​​elf wallowing in a pool of his friend’s blood and his own tears.” He chuckled at the memory.

“Delightful, I’m certain,” Myrddin grumbled.

“But Dartesas was the only elf to whom Lar ever told his thoughts, and his mind was like an open door. Now I do not know how I shall learn what Lar is thinking.”

“Is it truly necessary to know?”

“It is both useful and amusing.”

Myrddin groaned in exasperation. “And while you have been amusing yourself with your little toys, Dre, you have let the child get away from me. Must I start again?” He tugged at fistfuls of his own beard and stamped his feet. “I can’t bear it! Time is wasting!”

“Calm yourself, calm yourself,” Dantalion soothed with a malicious smile. These displays too were amusing.

“I need an unbaptized child of one of these Scots!” Myrddin cried. “Sir Malcolm won’t let me near his son! And how am I to know which child it is if I cannot even guess the nature of that one?”

“It is surely the half-​​elf child,” Dantalion muttered. “The other cannot have magic.”

“He does! He does!” Myrddin let go of his beard and shook his fist beneath the jinni’s chin. “I told you he did! I told him what to do and say, and he was able to give mastery over air to the Queen’s baby son, at least long enough for the baby to learn to breathe on his own.”

Dantalion snorted. “Coincidence.”

“He has potential,” Myrddin said eagerly. “That is all I need.”

Dantalion smirked. “Unless he is the wrong one.”

“And that is why I need a baby!” Myrddin snarled, vicious again. “Listen to me! When I give you a command, you are to follow it!”

The jinni rolled his eyes.

“I want a baby from one of these Scots. I don’t care who the mother is! Elf or woman, I no longer care.”

“Or demon?” Dantalion grinned.

“Certainly not! What good does it do me if you’ve polluted it?”

“It might do me some good!”

“Forbidden!” Myrddin shrieked.

“That’s enough!” Dantalion laughed. “You may choose to live as a monk, but I don’t. Although, if I did, I would be required to sleep at the abbey…”

“Certainly not! Certainly not!” Myrddin danced and stamped his feet in fury.

“I believe your only objection to my visiting the good Abbot is your jealousy!” Dantalion smiled.

“Jealous! Jealous of that – that – ”

“Why else would you hate him so?”

“In what way is he greater than I? No!”

“Then why do you hate him?” Dantalion chuckled, greatly amused.

“I don’t – I don’t know!” Myrddin growled. “He’s so – so–annoying! This inferior creature dares hold authority over me!”

Dantalion patted the old man on his white head. “Now you know how I feel about you.”

“Minion!” Myrddin snarled.

“Master!” Dantalion cooed with blood-​​curdling sweetness.