CHAPTER SIX

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Going with the Flow
Wally stared at Ariane. He opened his mouth to speak, not sure if he should ask “How?” or “Where?” first. Before he could make up his mind, the bedroom door opened and Aunt Phyllis stuck in her head.
Good thing I just turned on the lights, he thought. The fallen candle was just beside his foot; he nudged it under the bed. He couldn’t do anything about the rug having been rolled up, but though Aunt Phyllis’s eyes flickered over it, she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she smiled.
“Hello, you two! I’ve got some cookies and hot chocolate waiting downstairs for dessert, if you’re ready.”
Wally looked at Ariane. Are we?
“That would be great, Aunt Phyllis,” Ariane said. “Perfect timing.”
“How is the project coming?” Aunt Phyllis asked as they followed her down the stairs.
“We’ve made a good start,” Ariane said.
“I thought I heard a loud voice upstairs – a man’s voice,” Aunt Phyllis continued as she led them into the kitchen. “Gave me a start, until I figured out it must have been coming from your computer.”
Ariane looked at Wally.
“It was a YouTube clip,” he answered without hesitation. “Of this cheesy King Arthur movie. The volume was set too high. I’m sorry if it startled you.”
“Oh, that’s all right. Now, you two sit at the table...”
In two minutes she had poured three big mugs of hot chocolate and Wally was biting into a thick chocolate-chunk macaroon. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Why can’t Ms. Carson bake like this? “You’re a terrific cook, Ms. Forsythe.”
“Thank you,” said Aunt Phyllis. “Please, have another.”
Wally obeyed, happily. Ariane didn’t say anything: her mouth was already full with her second cookie. She polished it off and started on a third. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Famished,” she replied, chewing more slowly.
Aunt Phyllis nibbled daintily on her first cookie. “So, Wally. You said at dinner you grew up in Regina. Has your family lived here a long time?”
Wally nodded. At least this is safer ground than strange voices in the bedroom. “My parents were born and raised here too, and my grandparents on my father’s side. My father’s father’s parents moved here around 1915 from Cannington Manor.”
Aunt Phyllis nodded. The name clearly meant something to her. Just as clearly, Ariane had never heard of it. “Where’s that?” she asked. She finished her third cookie, but though she was eyeing the plate, didn’t pick up a fourth.
“Thirty-five kilometres or so southwest of Moosomin, not far from Moose Mountain Provincial Park. A bunch of English people settled it in the late 1800s. They thought they could recreate a proper Victorian English farming village on the prairie. It boomed for a while, but that was before Canadian Pacific decided not to build a rail line to the town. The nearest branch line ended up ten miles south, and that was pretty much the end of Cannington Manor. There’s hardly anything there now.”
“Well, there’s a very interesting interpretative centre,” Aunt Phyllis said. “I’ve been there. It’s a provincial heritage site. Were your great-grandparents English, then?”
“Great-grandfather Knight was. He was the youngest of five boys, so there wasn’t much of an inheritance for him to look forward to in England. He came to Cannington Manor as a teenager because he’d seen one of the ads Captain Edward Pierce had put in the London newspapers.”
“Ah,” Aunt Phyllis said. “Your great-grandfather was one of the infamous ‘bachelors.’”
Wally grinned. “That’s right. And apparently a pretty wild one too.”
Ariane gave her aunt and Wally a bewildered look. “What are you guys talking about?”
Aunt Phyllis sipped her hot chocolate. “Captain Pierce – who may or may not have been a real captain – planned to set up an agricultural school where young men from England could learn to be Saskatchewan farmers. What he mostly ended up with were dissolute young men more interested in drinking and carousing than farming.”
“They hung out at Didsbury, this big estate run by the Beckton Brothers,” Wally said. He’d read everything he could about Cannington Manor once he’d learned about the Knight family’s connection to it. “Ernest, Billie, and Bernie Beckton had inherited quite a bit of money back in England, and it went a long way out here on the frontier. They bred thoroughbreds – horses – and raced them too, as far away as Chicago. They even hunted foxes, you know, red coats, hounds, the whole bit. And they were famous for the parties they held at their lakeside cabin.”
“But eventually, like everyone else, even they gave up and left for greener pastures,” Aunt Phyllis continued when Wally stopped to take another sip of his hot chocolate. “Got married and took their wives back to England, I think. A lot of the ‘bachelors’ drifted farther west. A few headed up to the Yukon, prospecting for gold. Others enlisted in the British army and fought in the Boer War. Your great-grandfather must have been one of the few who stayed.”
Wally nodded. “He met and married my great-grandmother. She’d moved here from Germany with her parents. And despite all the partying, he apparently did learn a little bit about farming – enough to make a go of a homestead. But when the town started to dry up and blow away, he decided he wanted his family to have more opportunities than he’d had, so he moved to Regina and started a real-estate company.”
Ariane’s Aunt Phyllis’s eyes widened. “You mean, you’re the Knights? As in Knight Real Estate and Development? As in the Knight Towers downtown?”
“That’s us,” Wally said, a little uncomfortable. He didn’t like to think about how his family had more money than anyone else he knew. It was his parents’ money, not his. And as far as he was concerned, the only reason they had it was because they were never home.
Flish, on the other hand, judging by her shopping habits, had no problem at all enjoying the family wealth. And he no longer knew how she felt about their parents – not since she’d given up talking to him in favour of pushing him around.
Maybe he ought to change the subject after all. “May I have another cookie?”
“Help yourself.” Aunt Phyllis pushed the plate in his direction. “Well, I must say, your great-grandfather sounds like quite a character.”
“He was,” Wally said. “He never saw himself as Canadian – ‘I was born an Englishman, I’ll die an Englishman!’ he used to say. Or that’s what Grandma told me, anyway. But he never went back, even to visit. He used to tell Grandma it was ‘too dangerous’ for him to visit England again.”
“Well, a lot of those ‘bachelors’ were the black sheep of the family,” Aunt Phyllis said. “He probably committed some youthful indiscretion.”
“I don’t know,” Wally said. He hadn’t really thought about Grandma’s stories for years. “There was something else he told Grandma, something about a treasure – ”
He broke off, ancient family history suddenly driven from his mind. A newspaper lay on the far end of the table, open to the financial page. It was upside down from his vantage point, or he probably would have noticed the headline sooner:
Rex Major to Visit Thunderhill Mine. And in smaller type underneath: Server king planning diamond play?
“Wally, are you all right?” Aunt Phyllis asked.
Wally hardly heard her. He stared wide-eyed at Ariane and pointed mutely at the paper. She frowned at him, turned and looked – then grabbed the paper so suddenly she almost knocked her hot chocolate over.
“Ariane!” Aunt Phyllis snapped.
“Sorry, Aunt Phyllis. I just...um...this is something we could use for our project.” Ariane plopped the paper down between her and Wally, and they scanned it together.

TORONTO (Staff) - Rex Major, president of Excalibur Computer Systems, has scheduled a visit to the Thunderhill Diamonds mine in the Northwest Territories for this weekend, the Financial Post learned yesterday. News of the trip has sparked speculation that Rex Major Industries (RMI) may be planning to invest in Thunderhill Diamonds, Inc., which owns and operates the mine.
Even though representatives of RMI insisted that the visit will be “strictly personal,” stock prices for Thunderhill have risen sharply since yesterday.
“Mr. Major has long had an interest in the Canadian diamond mining industry, and decided to see for himself how the gems are extracted,” said Thomas Horton, RMI’s Director of Communications. “Nothing more should be read into it.” Horton emphasized that Major will be making the visit alone, with no support staff.
Some financial analysts, however, were not convinced by the company’s disclaimer. “Rex Major doesn’t do anything for purely personal reasons,” said...

Ariane got to her feet. “We should get back to work.”
“Huh? Uh, I mean, yeah, right, we should.” Wally turned to Aunt Phyllis. “Thank you for the cookies and cocoa, Ms. Forsythe.” He pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “They were delicious.”
Aunt Phyllis looked at the newspaper, raised an eyebrow, then looked from Wally to Ariane and back again. “Was it something I said?”
“Of course not, Aunt Phyllis,” Ariane said. “But we are trying to get this assignment done and I, uh, just had an idea.” She picked up the paper. “May I take this?”
“Of course.” Aunt Phyllis shook her head. “Although how you’re going to work the Financial Post into a presentation on King Arthur – for English class, wasn’t it? – I can’t quite imagine.” She smiled at Wally, who was looking at the plate of cookies with regret. “We can have more cookies and cocoa later, before Wally goes home, if you like.”
Wally brightened. “Great! Uh, I mean, thanks!”
Ariane gave Aunt Phyllis a smile that belonged in a toothpaste commercial. “Back to work!” She ran up the stairs two steps at a time. Wally followed her, but not before giving Aunt Phyllis a sheepish grin.
When they were safely upstairs again, Ariane tossed the newspaper onto her bed. Wally pointed at it. “Does that mean what I think it does?”
Ariane nodded, her face flushed with excitement. “I think so. When I said I know where the first shard of Excalibur is, I meant I know in a kind of general way. When we did the, um, ‘meditation ritual,’ I could hear it singing in my mind, and I could sort of tell where it was coming from. North. A long, long way north. I figured if we went north…somehow…maybe as we got closer I could pin it down more precisely. But maybe we just got a break. If Rex Major really is Merlin –”
“I’m sure he is,” Wally said.
“Well, if he is, and out of the blue he’s suddenly decided to visit a diamond mine in the Northwest Territories, all by himself, then...”
“You figure the shard is at the mine.”
“Or close by.”
Wally nodded. “Okay. Which brings us to the next question.” He stabbed at the picture of the Thunderhill Diamond Mine with his finger. “How do we get there?”
A long pause, while Ariane chewed on her lower lip. Finally, she said, “I’ve...got an idea.”
Wally raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound convinced it’s a good idea.”
“I’m not. I...I need to think about it some more.”
“So think out loud. But think fast, because Rex Major – Merlin – is headed there –,” he pointed at the picture of the mine again, “ – this weekend. Which is, like, now.”
Ariane shook her head. “I don’t want to say more until I know it’ll work.” Wally opened his mouth to protest, but Ariane plunged ahead. “No, Wally. I need to try this on my own.”
Wally took a deep breath. “All right. You’re the Lady –”
“Don’t call me that!”
“– the one with the power, then. Is that better?”
From the look Ariane gave him, it wasn’t.
“But we’re supposed to be in this together, don’t forget.” Or are we, really? he wondered. The Lady had only intended to enlist Ariane. He’d been an afterthought, someone who had just happened by at the right – or maybe wrong – time. If this was the Fellowship of the Sword, he might be more Bill the Pony than Samwise Gamgee.
“If it works, I’ll tell you right away.” Ariane sounded as if she meant it.
“So what do we do for the rest of the evening? I can’t leave if we’re supposed to be working on some giant school project.”
“We need to learn everything we can about Rex Major.” Ariane indicated the computer. “How are you at Googling?”
Wally grinned, stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles. “Try me!” But just as he was about to start typing, he stopped. “What about the warning?”
Ariane went over the window and peered out through the blinds. The street was deserted. “Nobody parked outside,” she said. “I think we’re safe.”
Wally still hesitated. “Well,” he said at last, “I suppose when you come right down to it, all he did was light up the monitor like a searchlight and throw Darth Vader’s voice at us. And it’s just a computer, isn’t it? It’s not like he can make it blow up.” He shrugged, and started typing.
Nothing strange or magical happened, and within minutes, they were scanning through a list of hundreds of websites, news stories and magazine articles about Rex Major. But despite the apparent wealth of information, precise biographical details were scarce.
Rex Major had been born in England, but no one knew when he’d come to North America. He hadn’t invented the Excalibur software, but he had seen its potential and bought the original version from its creator, a man named Charles Wyndham. No one could understand why Wyndham had sold it outright for such a piddling sum: he’d never explained and died soon afterward. (Wally exchanged an alarmed glance with Ariane when they read that.)
Major lived in Toronto. He wasn’t married, and he had no living relatives. He seemed completely focused on business – the analyst who had said “Rex Major doesn’t do anything for personal reasons” hadn’t been exaggerating – but he was also very generous and gave to numerous charities. He donated to all political parties equally; his own political convictions, if any, were a mystery. The only public comments he made concerned the activities of his company.
He was, in short, nothing more than a PR image. After almost an hour of digging, Wally shoved the mouse away in disgust. “He’s hiding himself in plain sight. Which makes me even surer we’re right. It’s just what you’d expect from a wizard. But it doesn’t help us.”
Ariane was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands, looking gloomy. “He has unlimited resources, he’s focused and ruthless, and if he’s Merlin, then he has his own magic – which he may be able to piggyback on the Internet, so it’s just about everywhere. And the only thing stopping him from taking over the world is...us?”
“He doesn’t stand a chance,” Wally said with a straight face.
Ariane stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Wally joined in. Aunt Phyllis chose that moment to stick her head in again. “All done?”
Ariane grinned. “Checking up on us, Aunt Phyllis?”
Wally felt himself blushing, an annoyingly familiar sensation.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Aunt Phyllis said primly.
Ariane chuckled. “It’s all right. Wally was just going home.”
Wally blinked. “I was?”
Ariane gave him a dirty look.
“Oh. Right. I was.” He stood up. “So, um, you’ll tell me how that...thing…works out?”
“As soon as I can try it.”
“Try what?” said Aunt Phyllis.
“Something on the computer,” Ariane said.
“Ms. Forsythe?” said Wally. Time to change the subject.
“Yes, Wally?”
“May I have just one more chocolate chip cookie, to go?”
Aunt Phyllis laughed. “Of course, Wally.”
A few minutes later Wally was on his way, one half-eaten cookie in his right hand, a second in a plastic baggie in his left. He stopped by the leaning gnome beneath the spruce and looked back up at Ariane’s room. Just what is she going to try?
The light went out in her bedroom, and came on behind the tiny bathroom window next to it.
Whatever it is, I hope she’s careful.
Munching his cookie, he headed home.

~ • ~
As soon as the door closed behind Wally, Ariane turned to head upstairs. Before she climbed the first step, though, Aunt Phyllis said, “Did you learn a lot about King Arthur?”
“Some,” Ariane said. “We’ve still got work to do.”
“So you’ll be seeing more of Wally?” Aunt Phyllis sounded as if she was trying a little too hard to be casual. Ariane kept her own face as bland as she could.
“I guess so.” She put her foot on the stairs. “I think I’ll take a shower, then go to bed.”
After a moment of silence, as though weighing her next words carefully, Aunt Phyllis sighed and said, “All right, dear.”
Feeling a bit like she’d dodged an arrow, Ariane climbed to the second floor. She reached into her bedroom to turn off the light, then went into the bathroom, locked the door, and started the shower, adjusting the water until it had a nice, pleasant warmth. She stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look like a powerful sorceress.
She widened her eyes and bared her teeth in a horrible grimace.
She still didn’t.
But she couldn’t deny what she had done to Felicia and friends. She couldn’t deny that she had seen and spoken to the Lady of the Lake, a figure that existed only in myth – or so everyone thought. She couldn’t deny that someone in a white Ford Focus was stalking her. She couldn’t deny that someone calling himself Merlin had sent her a warning, telling her not to meddle in his business.
But most of all, she couldn’t deny the song of the sword, humming away in the back of her head. The first shard of Excalibur pulled at her as though it were a magnet and she a compass needle. She wanted that shard, wanted to hold it, wanted to hear its full-throated song filling her mind instead of the faint, faint echo that was all she could hear now. That song excited her in a way she couldn’t describe, even to herself, and certainly not to Wally. She had accepted the Lady’s power in the hope it might help her find her mother, and that was still her hope: but now that the power was hers, she had to have the shard for its own sake. She could no more turn away from the quest she had been given than she could stop breathing.
That shard of Excalibur belonged to her, not to Merlin – and she intended to claim it.
And she was certain that the power the Lady had bequeathed could get her to the Thunderhill Diamond Mine...
...if she could figure out how to use it.
While talking to Wally she had remembered how she had felt in his kitchen, how it had seemed the water would have taken her with it down the drain, if only she had let it. And that had been before she had fully accepted the Lady’s power. Now she not only intended to let it take her, she intended to insist that it take her.
She stared at her rather pale-looking face in the mirror, wished it good luck, then turned to the shower and stuck her hands into the spray.
The power inside her blossomed like a flower at the water’s touch, revealing colors she had never seen before and crevices she longed to explore.
But for now there was just one part of that flower she wanted to examine. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of the liquid on her skin. Just as she had in Wally’s kitchen, she felt it flowing away from her, into the pipes, then into the sewer, off into the distance. She let her mind follow it, but it would only go so far before something held it back.
Oh, of course! My body. I can’t leave it behind...
So she took it with her.
Suddenly she was rushing through the pipes at tremendous speed, following the water, not exactly seeing where it went – what was there to see inside a pitch-black sewer pipe? – but feeling the shape of the pipes it flowed through, feeling the water’s unfocused frustration at being constrained. It wanted, in some elemental fashion, to be free, free of pipes and holding tanks and filters and grates, free to caress mud and sand and rock and ice, fish and fowl and weed and whale, to splash or crash against the shore, to form clouds in the sky and fall to the earth as rain. Whatever constraints humankind might place on it, water always found a path back into the natural world, seeping, splashing, puddling…and everywhere it went, she could go too she realized – and did, in a rush that would have been breathtaking if she had still been breathing. For a moment she felt confused and lost, her mind a whirl of wave and foam, black depths and sunlit shallows...
But though her body had dissolved, her mind and spirit remained intact. All the water in the world couldn’t extinguish the spark of her soul unless she allowed it, and she would not allow it (not this time, something inside her whispered, and she felt a pang of fear), and so she centered her consciousness on a large expanse of water and willed her body back into existence.
She found herself in blackness, floundering. Her clothes pulled her down, but she reached the bottom quickly and kicked up again. Her head burst above the surface, and she gasped for air beneath a sky ablaze with stars. Treading water, she saw the black shapes of bushes and trees to her right. A few strong kicks put her in water shallow enough that she could stand up, and she splashed ashore, then turned to stare across the lake. The water had seemed warm when she had willed herself back into existence within it, but now that she had left it behind, cold gripped her. She remembered the trick she had pulled off in Wally’s shower and ordered the water off of her. That helped, but it was still a cold night, even when she wasn’t soaking wet, and she had already gotten chilled. She wrapped her arms tightly around her shivering body, teeth chattering.
She had no idea where she was, and the only lights she could see were so far away on the prairie horizon she might die of hypothermia before she could walk to them. There was nothing for it but to plunge back into the water and try to reverse whatever it was she had done that had brought her here, but she hesitated, remembering that tiny, chilling voice, her voice, whispering, not this time...
I could simply dissolve into water and vanish, she thought. I could.
The thought held her motionless (except for the shivering she couldn’t control) for a long moment – not because she thought it could happen unless she let it, but out of perverse fascination. It would be simple, painless, clean...to everyone else it would seem she had just vanished, like her mother before her.
Like my mother...
The thought that her mother might have dissolved into water horrified her. No, she thought. She rejected the power. She couldn’t have...
Could she? Even before I completely accepted the power, I had some of it. Could she have had enough to...?
She would have to think about it later. When she was warmer.
Putting aside her fear, she plunged back into the lake. The cold made her breath catch in her throat for a moment, but the instant she touched the power inside her, the water welcomed her and the chill disappeared. She dissolved into the swirling chaotic maelstrom, the water that could take her almost anywhere, because it was all connected, like the World Wide Web but with an even greater reach.
For now, though, there was only one place she wanted to go: home.
Unerringly, the power took her there, but then she was confronted with a new and terrifying problem: she could flow through her own bathroom, one with the spray in the still-running shower, but she couldn’t materialize there. Again and again she tried, looping through sewer and lake and filtration plant and pipe, but her body would not take shape. Worse, she could feel herself tiring, her power waning. What would happen if she reached the limit of her endurance while her body remained immaterial?
Join with me... Though it had no words, she clearly understood the water’s call. Join with me forever...
She tried to think. It didn’t seem to matter how little water was present when she dematerialized, but when she had rematerialized before, she had been out in a lake, fully underwater when she reasserted her own shape…
Frantically she began casting around for the nearest body of water large enough to submerge her.
There! Not too far from Aunt Phyllis’s house, a pool of some sort.
She emerged in hot, steaming water. She looked around. Tile floor and walls. Stacks of towels. A frosted glass shower stall –
– and the blurred pink shape of someone – a naked someone! – on the other side of the glass! Ariane couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, and didn’t want to. I’m in someone’s hot tub! she thought in horror.
She’d never moved so fast in her life. Up and out of the tub, ordering the water off her body as she moved. Dry, she opened the door a crack and looked out into an empty hallway that ran deeper into the house to her right and ended at a door to her left – a door with shoes scattered around it, a sure sign it led outside.
Seconds later she stood gasping for breath in an alley, having set some kind of record for the twenty-five-metre dash. At last she knew exactly where she was. Aunt Phyllis’s house also backed onto this alley, just a couple of trash bins to the north.
Unfortunately, Aunt Phyllis’s house had a motion-activated light in the backyard. Ariane had hoped to sneak back in without being noticed, but her aunt must have seen the light come on. She opened the back door just as Ariane climbed the steps. “Ariane?” Aunt Phyllis looked bewildered. “How did you get here? You were upstairs taking a shower. I can still hear the water running...”
“I...” Think fast! “...um, thought I heard a, uh, cat. Meowing. Like it was hurt. Before I even got undressed. I went out to look. You must not have noticed. I guess I forgot to turn off the water.” She hugged herself and pretended to shiver. “I didn’t even stop to put on my coat.”
“But...” Aunt Phyllis blinked at her, then shook her head and laughed. “Well, that book must be more engrossing than I realized...I never noticed a thing.” She moved aside. “Did you find the cat?”
“What? Oh, no, no sign of it...guess I imagined it. Good night!”
Aunt Phyllis opened her mouth to say something else, but Ariane hurried past her without giving her the chance. The sooner she ended this conversation, the better.
A minute later she was standing in her bathroom again. She turned off the water and looked at herself in the now steamed-up mirror.
She still didn’t look like a powerful sorceress. But after what she had just done...
It frightened her a little, but also emboldened her. Maybe she wasn’t helpless against Merlin after all.
She wouldn’t know until she tried to beat him. But she would try. The power of the Lady, the music of the water, the song of the sword – they were hers, something solid to hold on to, something that couldn’t be taken away from her in an instant...as her mother had been. She knew where to find the first shard of Excalibur. She knew how to get there.
But could she take Wally with her?
Only one way to find out. She went into her room, turned on the light, and sat down at her computer. She opened her email software, entered Wally’s address, and typed, My idea worked. Meet me at the Human Bean tomorrow morning at 9:30?
She clicked SEND. She leaned back in her chair, feeling an immense weariness. By the time her computer beeped, she had changed into her pajamas and was brushing her teeth.
Wally’s message was to the point. I’ll be there! – Wally. He’d added a P.S. Bring some of your Aunt Phyllis’s cookies.
Ariane laughed. And as she climbed into bed, it occurred to her she’d laughed more in the two days since she’d met Wally than she usually did in two months.
The thought didn’t make her laugh again, but it did make her smile, as she drifted off to sleep.