AS THEY TELEPORTED TO THE cottage, Fort realized he hadn’t really taken a close look at it, given how Cyrus had been vague and confusing at the time. Now that he was here with his other friends, it was like seeing it for the first time.
The cottage itself looked like it was either hundreds of years old, or built in the last few years; there was no way of telling. The stone was so expertly laid in the walls that it felt like the product of modern architecture, and yet, from the ways the trees surrounded it, Fort couldn’t imagine it hadn’t always been here.
A strange door knocker made of what looked to be iron hung from the middle of the old wooden door. The knocker was in the shape of a small imp, hanging upside down by its tail, and honestly was a bit too lifelike for Fort’s taste.
Still, Cyrus was waiting, and Fort wasn’t going to waste any more time before getting answers from him. He reached out, lifted the door knocker, then yelped in pain as something stabbed his fingers. The knocker dropped back against the wood, hitting with a loud bang.
And then the door knocker itself groaned as well.
“Easy there, boy,” the imp said, turning to look at him. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“I’ve got this!” Rachel shouted, pushing her way past Fort before he could even object. Even with everything they’d just been through, she couldn’t hide her excitement at the talking door knocker. “Hello, sir! Are you actually alive, or just magicked to be that way? Do we need to answer some kind of riddle to get past? Who cursed you to be like this?”
She put a hand up to touch it, but the imp bared its teeth at her, revealing what had stabbed Fort in his hand. “Polite people don’t ask such personal questions!” the imp said. “And what makes you think I’m magic?”
“You’re a talking door knocker,” Rachel pointed out. “I’m not sure science has really gotten that far with believable artificial intelligence yet.”
“Well, maybe it should think harder,” the imp said, crossing its arms. “And frankly, I don’t enjoy this attitude you all have going. Time was, prospectives would have the good courtesy to be afraid when I came alive. But you lot all seem practically jaded. What’s the world even coming to?”
Prospectives? What did that mean?
Something clicked on the other side of the door, like a lock turning.
“Hey!” the imp shouted. “I haven’t let them in yet.”
“That’s okay,” said a familiar voice, and Cyrus opened the door with a smile. “I can vouch for them all.”
“Cyrus!” Jia shouted, and leaped forward to hug the boy as the door knocker sighed dramatically. Rachel quickly followed, while the imp continued its complaints.
“Oh, so that’s how we’re doing things now?” the imp said from behind the opened door “Vouching for people? No care for security nowadays, is there? This is just sad, that’s what this is.”
“Are you sure you vouch for all of us?” Ellora asked, stepping into the doorway.
Cyrus smiled at her. “It’s been too long, Ellora. I’m sorry I couldn’t help get you all home before now.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “It wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter.”
Cyrus looked uncomfortable at that, nodding and moving past her. “Nice to finally see you in person, Fort,” he said, looking half-excited, half-unsure about where they stood. “I know we’ve spoken in time visions, but now that you’re here … I owe you an apology. I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry for how we left things. I never should have told you not to go after your father. I should have realized that nothing would stop you, no matter what kind of warning I gave you.”
With everything that had happened since the Dracsi dimension, Fort had almost forgotten about their argument. But it was still kind of touching that Cyrus seemed worried about it, and that he cared enough to apologize. “You were right,” Fort said, shaking his head. “I should have listened to you. You knew what was coming, and I … I didn’t want to hear it.” He nodded up at the dome. “I know this is all my fault.”
Cyrus shook his head too. “You just set things in motion. You’re no more responsible for it happening than a piece of yarn is for the sweater it becomes.”
Fort nodded, not understanding what that meant at all, but happy to put it behind him. “So we didn’t really get a lot of time for questions when I was here last,” he said as Cyrus waved him and Ellora inside. “What is this place?”
“Protection,” Cyrus said as the door closed behind them all. “I happened upon it before I went to the Oppenheimer School and kept it secret just in case.”
But Fort barely heard him, staring in wonder around the room. In the time visions, he almost couldn’t believe the dining room was in the same cottage as before: From the outside, the cottage didn’t even look big enough for one room this size.
But doors led off in different directions, now that he was inside. Not to mention that outside, the cottage was clearly just one floor, but inside, a wide staircase led up to another hall leading to more rooms, from what Fort could see.
How was this possible? It had to be magic, which made him even more curious about it. Who had built this place? The old man? And how?
“Where did this come from?” Jia asked, her eyes wide with amazement as well.
Cyrus just shrugged, gesturing for them to sit down. “It’s not really important. Take a seat! The tea should be ready in a moment, and I’ve got food if you’re hungry.” He paused, his eyes unfocusing. “Which I see that you all are. Let me bring you something.”
He clapped his hands, and plates filled with warm bread and pastries floated out from a table next to the fire to land on a dining table in the middle of the room, while a kettle of tea began to pour itself into several cups.
“Magic plates? Tea that serves itself?” Rachel shouted, almost exploding with excitement. “I love this place!”
“Yeah, okay, but what kind of magic is this?” Jia said, staring at a plate with a chocolate pastry floating by her.
Cyrus wrinkled his nose. “It’s actually not, to be honest.”
Not magic? Fort reached for one of the steaming teacups floating by him and picked it out of the air. It came free of whatever was holding it without any difficulty, and he waited for it to start yelling at him like the door knocker, only the cup stayed silent, seemingly nothing more than a regular, normal teacup.
“Not magic?” Rachel said, putting her sword on the wooden table, where it clanked for some reason, not at all the sound he’d have expected from wood. “Explain, Future Boy.”
Cyrus stared at the sword for a moment, his eyes wide. “That’s … quite a sword, isn’t it?”
Fort gave him a surprised look back. “You didn’t see this coming? But your friend warned me—”
“No, I did,” Cyrus said, his eyes still on the sword. “I just … didn’t realize it was so …” He seemed to snap out of it abruptly and smiled at them as he grabbed a floating cup of tea. “Right, the cottage. I can show you how it’s all done, if you’d like, but it’s much nicer all around if you just let it do its thing.”
“Show us,” Rachel said, and she and Jia both leaned in toward him curiously, while Ellora sat down in a corner seat away from the others.
Cyrus sighed. “Oh, fine.” He snapped his fingers in a quick pattern, then sat back and waited.
The wood on the table below them disappeared, revealing what looked like transparent plastic filled with various lights and projectors. The thatched roof above them turned into thick plastic sheeting, as did the floor, which had previously looked like it was made of stone.
The floating teacups now hovered along with some sort of glowing device on the bottoms. Whatever it was, it seemed to hold them in the air with no difficulty, but the technology to do such a thing was far beyond anything Fort had ever seen. Even the plates were pulled from the cupboards by what had been invisible robotic hands, and the food emerged from some sort of science-fiction-looking dispenser.
“It’s all future tech,” Cyrus said, sounding almost sad. “Isn’t it kind of sad? The man who built this place went to a lot of trouble to make himself comfortable by using things he found in the future. But he didn’t want anyone in his time to know where it came from, so he disguised it all to look like magic.”
“Future technology?” Jia said, tapping one of the floating teacups.
“Who built this place, Cyrus?” Rachel asked, grabbing her sword again. “I think we’re going to need a name.”
Cyrus winced. “He went by a lot of names, but the one you’d know best would be—”
“Merlin,” said a voice as the old man stepped out from one of the doorways, raising his arms majestically but dropping them as a confused look passed over his face. “At least, I imagine that’s how you know me. It’s always so hard to remember what year I’m in.”