City of Fear

Chapter 6

A/N - Dedicated to John Hurt.

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Merlin, in something of a temper, briskly walked down the cobblestone streets of Camelot, irritated that he hadn't found Holmes and his associate at the blacksmith's. He slowed his pace when he neared the servant Julia's abode, one of many of the one-roomed, stone shacks assigned to Camelot's servants. He pushed open the wooden door.

Sherlock quickly stood to face him, John following a few seconds later. Merlin tilted his head to look at the spot of ground that he and John had been kneeling around, but saw nothing.

"What were you looking at?" asked Merlin, pointing.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and glanced behind him. "Oh," he rumbled, "Nothing."

Merlin thought the man's smile looked ingenuine. Sherlock looked uncomfortable with the expression as if he hadn't used it a lot. Merlin squinted his eyes, but didn't press the matter, accepting the exchange as more proof to be wary of the man.

"I assume you have something you want to talk to us about?" Sherlock seemed eager to get back to his investigation.

"Yes. I wanted to say that Arthur seemed very put-out after your meal with him, and I wanted to recommend that you don't get on the bad side of, well, of the king."

Sherlock looked down his nose at Merlin. "That all?"

"Well-"

"Because I have something I'd like to ask you."

Merlin didn't say anything, struggling to remain polite as ever.

Sherlock shifted his weight, seemingly uncomfortable from standing in one position for so long. "I was wondering if you know of a sort of mythical creature that resembles a black snake, except only about the length of one's head. Perhaps with a tendency to burrow into people's skin?"

Merlin hesitated. "Why would I know anything about mythical creatures?"

Sherlock withdrew his hand from his pocket and rubbed his nails with the pad of his thumb. His eyes did not avert from Merlin's. "I only assumed that you might because you live with the... court physician. Gaius, was it?"

Merlin nodded slowly. "I might be able to think of something. But what might this have to do with the murders?"

"Oh, nothing. I was only wondering." Sherlock suddenly concentrated on his thumb as it moved back and forth across his nails.

Merlin squinted his eyes and did not speak for a beat. "What you described sounds to me like a fomorroh."

"Oh? What do those do?" Sherlock's eyes suddenly locked with Merlin's.

Merlin shrugged, trying to break the tension, and spoke to outweigh the ringing in his ears, "Like you said, burrow into people's skin. They are generally enchanted, so whoever is planted with one is forced to perform some sort of goal. They don't rest until they've completed the task or until the creature is either removed or killed."

"It sounds like you have a lot of experience with these creatures."

"...You could say that."

Sherlock clucked his tongue. "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Since you seem to know so much about mythical creatures-"

"Only what Gaius has told me," Merlin assured the detective.

"Right. Well, what might you know about a hooved beast, small enough to fit through that hole, perhaps possessing wooden features, able to wield an axe-"