Prologue (Cont'd)

   With the whisper of velvet on stone, she began to whirl in a circle. Merlin looked at the ground beneath Morgan's spinning feet -- he saw the spin of time. He knew, without a doubt, that this was the moment -- one mistake and everything would change. One mistake and he could have a normal life. One mistake and there would be no King Arthur -- now or ever.
   Merlin started to whisper, but Morgan didn't hear him. Her laughter rose as the ground began to shake. Mist seeped from cracks in the earth. Stalagmites erupted from the cavern floor encircling her in a ring of stone. Morgan touched her necklace, "To Merlin's youth, I fly with speed. When he was young, to undo the deed!"
   The stalagmites continued to grow and twist as Morgan continued to spin. She was being dwarfed by the rising fingers of stone. A crack of lightning exploded upward from the obsidian, and Morgan Le Fay disappeared in a zigzag streak of electric blue frenzy.

Vancouver Island, 2003

   The buildings of a little shopping plaza in Glen Lake, British Columbia stood silhouetted by the moonlight. A sudden streak of summer lightning illuminated them for an instant then left them to the dark. At the edge of an adjoining park, a lump appeared. A lump of shadow that solidified into velvet. Morgan Le Fay moaned with pain and fatigue. She was exhausted.
   As she rose to her knees, Morgan gazed at everything: buildings, lampposts, storefronts, garbage cans -- without recognition. "What magic is this?"
   With great effort, Morgan got to her feet. She stood, staring at her unfamiliar surroundings. She knew she had travelled to another time and another place. But exactly where -- and exactly when -- was she? Morgan suddenly realized that she knew very little about Merlin: she had no idea where he had been born, where he had grown up, or how old he had been when his magical powers first emerged.
   Morgan stumbled, caught herself, and took a deep breath. She needed rest. She looked around and found a hiding place in the centre of a large group of close-growing shrubs. Tomorrow, there would be time enough to get her bearings -- time enough to ensure that a young man never grew old.