Free Earth's Magic by Pamela F. Service

be an adventure, and dragons need those … as well as treasure. So, Pendragon, when do we leave?”
    The King smiled in relief. “In a day or two. In the meantime, Merlin and others are trying to determine where the battle will be engaged.”
    “Excellent,” the white dragon said, stretching her wings comfortably. “That will allow me time to give this brood some flying lessons. It’s obvious that you humans and that wretch of a mutie dog will be no good at that. No offense intended, Pen-dragon.”
    “None taken.”
    The next couple of days were spent in frenzied preparation for the army’s departure. Equipment and weapons were assembled, horses groomed, and last-minute training undertaken. Heather spent much of her time with the warhorses, soothing taut nerves and mentally readying them for the long travels and likely battle ahead. Many of these animals had traveled and fought with thearmy before. Most were ones Arthur had been breeding to return to the larger variety known in pre-Devastation times. He hoped that with each new generation, their size would increase, and so far it had been. But their three-toed feet had apparently permanently mutated back to an even earlier prehistoric form. That didn’t seem to be a harmful mutation. Each toe ended in a stout hoof that didn’t need shoeing, and the horses’ stamina didn’t seem to be affected.
    Welly and Takata were busy studying maps and the names of the various dukes and kings who ruled the scattered shires. They also carefully selected the weapons and equipment they needed to take with them, trying to keep the weight down. Not that Blanche couldn’t carry a great deal, but if asked to, she would complain constantly. They didn’t look forward to weeks of traveling with a crabby dragon. Welly was particularly conflicted about the impending trip. He was delighted at the prospect of spending so much time with Takata. But he also remembered his last journey on a dragon, when the height and speed had kept him terrified most of the time. True, he admitted, he was a little older now, but there are some fears you just don’t grow out of.
    Merlin spent the days trying to determine where and when the King’s forces should assemble. He used what divination spells he could, but still he had no clue, and he wasn’t at all confident that Troll would be able to find the answer either. In the past, he had managed his best divination by looking into water, sometimes in his silver Bowl of Seeing, sometimes merely in a puddle. But when he tried that now, all he managed to see was his own silvered reflection or the mud at the bottom of a pool.
    On the night before departure, he was dining with the King and others but paying little attention to their conversation. He was staring into his potato soup, hoping desperately to see theanswer floating among the vegetables, when suddenly Troll burst into the room.
    The little fellow ran forward and bowed so deeply to Arthur that his head thonked against the floor.
    “Mighty King, news! Troll, Royal Emissary, return. Folk in Avalon say will help. Dark parts of Faerie may not or help other side. Troll talk to Lady. She say they help us in battle.”
    The King sighed in relief. “That is great news, Troll.” He glanced at Merlin. “Did she say when or where this battle is to occur?”
    Troll turned toward Merlin and stared with extra-wide eyes. “She say Merlin decide.”
    Abruptly Merlin stood up.
“Decide?
It’s up to
me?”
    Troll scrunched his eyes closed in concentration. “Lady say this battle of two worlds. Great Wizard only person of two worlds. He must choose. Battle be where he choose.”
    Merlin felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Perhaps the most cataclysmic battle of all times, and where and when it would happen was up to him—not just to discover but to decide!
    He looked at the people around him, but the room seemed to be filled with fog—a fog of their expectations and his fear. Silently he turned and