The Candlestone by Bryan Davis Page A

think I will survive. Whether I will live on in spirit or not, I cannot say. Perhaps I will come back in another form, as another person, restored to physical matter.”
    “Reincarnation?” Jared asked. “As the heretics teach? May heaven forbid!”
    “Not at all like reincarnation, Jared, but I am impressed. You have learned your theology well in such a short time, though you may need to learn to express it with a bit more grace. I’m hoping my adventure will be as Jesus taught when speaking of John the Baptist, ‘et si vultis recipere ipse est Helias qui venturus est.’”
    “I . . . I do not understand.”
    “Neither did his disciples, even when it was spoken in their own tongue, for they did not have ears to hear. You, on the other hand, have not yet learned Latin. It means, ‘And if you care to accept it, he himself is Elijah, who was to come.’” Merlin picked up an old book that rested next to his chair and showed Jared and Irene the back of the title page. “Can you read this?”
    They looked over Merlin’s shoulder. “Yes,” Jared said, “The words are quite clear.”
    Irene nodded her agreement. “I do not understand the riddle I see, but I am able to read the text.”
    Merlin turned the page. “And now?”
    Jared smiled at Merlin. “Is this some kind of jest, Master? The page is blank.”
    Merlin put one hand over Jared’s eyes. “It is as though a veil is covering your eyes.” He then lifted his hand and waved it over the page. “And now, Jared, son of Arthur, can you read it?”
    Jared stared at the book’s crisp, clean page, and this time dark script appeared, beautiful handwriting, phrases cut into poetic lines. For some reason, however, he could not bring them completely into focus. “I see the writing, but it seems to float, as though I am seeing it through a thick dark glass. I cannot read it.”
    “Before this day is over,” Merlin said, “the words on this page will become clear.” He placed the book into Jared’s hands and picked up Excalibur. “This is my perpetual diary. Guard it with your life. In some ways it is more dangerous than the great sword, but only a wise man will glean from its counsel. To understand its wisdom requires the brightest of lights and the greatest of the abiding gifts.”
    They heard the sudden clanking of soldiers’ weapons and marching footsteps. Merlin pushed Jared and Irene toward the corner door. “Go! Go!”
    They hurried to obey. Jared knew he had no place in this matter. Having become a human only a few weeks before, he understood neither his standing nor his responsibility in the domain of men. Holding the treasured diary in his arms and seeing Irene to a safe place in the low hallway, he shut the door almost completely. He left a crack, just enough to watch the action, but not enough, he hoped, to allow Excalibur’s lethal radiance into the secret chamber.
    Two armed men broke down the door and stretched loaded bowstrings back to their ears. Merlin stood tall, holding the great sword in both hands, its point straight up. The men stopped, mesmerized by the brilliant glow, while six others poured through the door, each halting as they beheld the sword.
    Jared searched through the faces but couldn’t locate Devin. Would he come later to try to assume the throne? The slimy worm! Letting his lackeys take the brunt while he prances on daisies out in the garden!
    When a band of twelve or so had arrived, Merlin waved the sword in a great circle. The treacherous soldiers seemed rooted to the stone floor, their legs trembling like saplings in a storm’s fury. A single beam from Excalibur’s tip multiplied into hundreds, flashing in all directions until they joined together into a massive tidal wave of light.
    The luminescent surge washed through the court, and particles of sparkling light buzzed through the traitors like starving locusts. Their bodies melted away, and only swirls of twinkling effervescence remained, shields and armor