This is a little Halloween inspired two-shot. It started as a one-shot but got a bit long so I split it. Many thanks to Caldera for providing the wonderful cover art, being my wonderful beta and being so speedy. Hope you enjoy it. Feedback is very welcome.

Challenge 42: One word prompt. The word you choose must have a spooky/sinister connotation or be related in some way to Halloween.

Prompt word: Skull provide by Ace Von S

The Golden Skull of Ode: Chapter 1 The Illuision

Rain lashed against his face, spilling into his mouth and obscuring his vision. He tried to tell himself it would eventually have to end, that they would make it back to Camelot in time for Samhain, but he was having a hard time believing it. Merlin tripped yet again, spat out the excess water and rubbed his eyes for the hundredth time; he could barely see and there was nothing recognisable about the landscape. He hoped Arthur knew where they were going because he certainly didn't.

The storm was ferocious and had come on them suddenly. It was unnatural; the wind sounded like whispering voices and mocking laughter. It gave Merlin goose bumps. No, it's just your imagination, he chastised.

The weather had forced them into a gully with sheer rock sides that only funnelled the icy wind and stripped away all his body's heat. The knights' armour provided them with protection against the elements and they had heavy wool cloaks and gloves - he only had a tatty brown jacket, boots that leaked, and a neckerchief that did nothing to stop the torrent of water currently streaming down his back.

Merlin told himself not to give into the voices that told him to stop. He focused on the red cloaks in front of him and was so intent on keeping pace with the knights his attention drifted from the ground. Pain shot through his toe as his foot collided with a rock and sent him crashing to the earth in a torrent of curses.

For a moment he just lay there, pounded by the rain, totally exhausted and numb with cold. Stop now, rest, his brain tempted. Merlin forced himself up but his frigid limbs failed to cooperate and he collapsed into the mud once again. Before he could humiliate himself further, firm hands hooked around his arms and hauled him to his feet.

"Alright there, Merlin?" Gwaine bellowed above the howling gale.

Merlin nodded; he'd tried to speak but his teeth seemed too big for his mouth and the words would not come.

Gwaine's brow creased, "Sure?"

"F-fine."

The knight did not look convinced.

"Arthur!"

Gwaine began to pat Merlin down, brushing grit away from the servant's torn trousers, exposing cut knees and grazed palms.

"Arthur! We need to stop!"

"Gwaine, no! I'm fine."

"There may be nothing broken but you're shaking like a leaf, Merlin."

Merlin tried to argue otherwise but failed to stop the involuntary tremor in his limbs. You're tired; just stop for a little while, the voice on the wind seemed to say. He shook his head, turning over his hands to survey the damage and becoming transfixed by the tiny swirls of crimson constantly being washed away. He suddenly felt woozy and had to take a step to steady himself.

"Now, don't go fainting on me, you useless lump!"

"Arthur!"

Merlin had not registered the king's approach – I must be more out of it than I thought.

The king grabbed his servant and shouted ahead. "We need to take shelter until the weather settles, look around for anything suitable."

What a good idea. The warlock suddenly flinched; he wanted to rest more than anything but not if he got blamed for Arthur missing the feast. I'll be the one that holds them back. No one knew he used magic to stop Percival falling over that ledge or thwarted the bandit trying to stab Gwaine – they think I'm the useless coward who hides. Sometimes he wished they knew the truth, that they could see him for who he really was.

"You'll miss the Samhain feast. I'm alright, just need to keep moving."

"You're like a block of ice."

Arthur held firm, even when Merlin tried to wriggle out of his grasp, only letting go to clear the water from his eyes and shout orders.

"Percival, Leon, check that outcrop to the left. Gwaine take the right."

"Arthur, you don't have to stop for me."

The king snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. I'm not stopping for you; it's impossible to navigate safely in these conditions. Besides, you will be serving me later - can't have you dropping the pitcher because you can't feel your hands."

The remark stung and was a stark reminder of how he'd embarrassed Arthur at the last Samhain feast – causing a scene, collapsing in the middle of the hall after hearing the Cailleach's personal message – not that Arthur knew the real reason of course, he just thought his servant was weak.

Merlin shifted his weight trying to get some warmth back into his limbs and subtly used his magic to scan the area, determined to win back some favour. There was a shadow in the rocks ahead; he saw an opening that he'd not noticed before but now seemed obvious. This would be a perfect place to rest.

"There!"

"Where?" Arthur's head spun, his gaze following Merlin's outstretched arm. "I don't see anything!"

"Here!" The skinny servant staggered towards the crag, placing his hands against the stone, the large opening impossible to miss. "Here." He said banging the rock and disappearing into the crevice.

As soon as he entered the place Merlin wanted to retreat. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He'd thought he caught something skuttle in his peripheral vision and yet when he scanned the cave there was nothing. Swallowing his doubts he sent out small tendrils of magic to make sure there was nothing unpleasant. There was no other life, no rats or insects; it was completely dead and that in itself should have been a warning. Every time he thought of leaving he would remember how cold it was outside. It was dry in the cave and they would only need to stay a little while - maybe have a little nap.

Merlin shook his head. No, something was off; his magic was in turmoil. Turning to go back he crashed into the solid form of Percival; the knights had followed him in. They cheered and patted him on the back, congratulating him for finding their salvation as the storm raged on outside.

Just enough daylight filtered through the opening for them to make out their cavernous surroundings. Sufficient dead branches and other debris had blown in for them to make a fire to warm up by and dry their clothes. Surely if they stayed close to the entrance all would be well? Arthur was smiling now and that had to be a good thing. They would only need to stop a short time to dress in dry clothes, feed, and wait it out. That was the lie Merlin told himself, what stopped him bolting back into the gale. 'You're tired and cold,' the voice whispered, 'it's only for a little while, then you can be on your way,'.

Merlin stared at the hypnotic flames and his eyelids drooped. He still felt cold, even with dry clothes, but despite the discomfort he was tired and it would be all too easy to let sleep claim him. The sound of approaching footsteps jerked him awake - conditioned from experiencing Arthur's wrath too often when found snoozing.

"I was just …"

No one was close. The crackling fire sent strange shadows across the wall and his heart beat a little faster. Merlin swiped his ear and let out a shriek when a blast of cold air blew down it.

"Oh, you're finally awake!" Arthur drawled in response to the commotion.

The knights were gathered at the back of the cave, huddled in discussion. He shuddered and pretended he could not hear a whisper of laughter on the air. Merlin pulled his collar up and reluctantly went to join them.

Gwaine had been the first to notice the sliver of light and want to explore with childlike curiosity that refused to be tamed. There was an eerie glow from a tunnel leading off from the back of the cave. No one thought it odd, in fact Arthur argued that the light could indicate a possible way to travel protected against the weather. Or get lost in an uncharted cave, mused Merlin bitterly, his stomach twisting at the prospect of delving deeper into the rock. The place set his magic on edge but at the same time he was drawn to it.

They should all leave before it was too late but the knights were excited by the thought of a quest and no words of caution could stop them. He could wait by the fire of course, but there was no way Merlin would let his king and friends out of his sight on Samhain Eve.

The light was elusive, steering them this way and that, down one passage, then another - all the time leading them further from the outside.

"Did you hear that?" Merlin grabbed Gwaine's arm.

"I can't hear anything, Merlin, other than your raised heart beat."

"Is Merlin scared?" Arthur goaded.

"I don't think this is a good idea." The servant reasoned, standing in front of the knight.

"Come on, mate, where is your sense of adventure?" Gwaine slapped him on the back but kept moving.

Merlin repeatedly voiced his concerns but no one listened - they never did. Eventually they rounded a corner into another cavern and Gwaine let out a low whistle, the other knights gasped.

It was an awesome sight: gold, mountains of it. Floor to ceiling riches; mounds of coins and precious jewels, a wealth of weapons, shields and rich fabrics. Arthur threw back his head and let out a cry of joy. He turned, eyes bright and arms outstretched.

"And you didn't want us to explore!" The king scoffed. "Merlin, do you know what this is?"

Merlin shook his head ominously.

"Our lucky day?" Gwaine quipped to a mass of chuckles and guffaws.

"The lost treasure of Ode!"

Merlin looked blank.

Arthur sucked through his teeth in frustration. "Many years ago a king amassed a great fortune but as his wealth grew he became paranoid that someone would try and steal it. He removed all threats but in the end took an army and tried to hide his wealth – some say it was a cave, no one knows for sure - they never came back; the king, the fortune, the soldiers, all gone. Search parties found no trace of them or the treasure. Knights have been looking for this for hundreds of years; many perished and disappeared in the hunt for the elusive fortune. My own father even quested after it – he would have been so proud that I found it."

The knights cheered. Merlin did not.

Gwaine let himself fall into a bank of coins, laughing as he picked them up and let them run through his fingers. Percival and Leon delved into the pile whilst Arthur grasped a sword, checking the balance and experimentally cutting the air with the blade.

"I think we should go - this is not right."

No one heard.

"Please, we shouldn't touch anything, it could be a trap."

"Don't be a fool, Merlin; what would you know." Sneered Leon.

"Don't you think it's odd? The way the weather set in, this cave, it's all too convenient. We should get back to Camelot."

"I give the orders, Merlin." Arthur spat.

"We can come back, bring more men."

"Only a fool would leave it; we have to take it or someone else will."

"You said it's been here for hundreds of years!"

"Enough, servant! Respect your king." Leon shouted, pointing a dagger at the gangly man.

Merlin clasped his head in his hands, pulling at his dark hair. It was happening all over again; their faces were fevered just like with the Lamia, their minds not their own.

He had yet to touch the gold and he did not want to; his whole being raged against it.What if touching it makes me just like them? What if it breaks the spell? How could he stop the enchantment and keep his own magic secret? What does it matter if they set on me anyway?

"Please, listen to yourselves." The servant pleaded.

"You go if you want to, Merlin, but you'd better not line your pockets." Gwaine scowled – the expression did not suit him.

"We can't let him leave; he could tell someone." Leon argued, ever pragmatic.

Merlin was compelled to run but knew they wouldn't follow and he could not leave them. Evil was at work here and he had to stop it.

Gwaine held up a golden skull with rubies set into the eye-sockets. It looked like it was laughing, a chipped tooth spoiling two perfect rows. Gold was heavy and even a knight like Percival could not manipulate it so easily - like it weighed nothing at all. Merlin sprinted over to his friend and wrenched the skull from his grasp. Gwaine went to retaliate, hand on sword, but as soon as the warlock touched the gold the air shimmered and the illusion was broken.

There was no treasure, no gold - only human bones; mountains of skeletons, skulls, rotten fabric, and abandoned weapons.

The jewelled skull in Merlin's hands was brittle bone, the orbits black and empty. The warlock tried to toss it away, thrashed and slammed it into the ground but it seemed stuck to his palms. Merlin resorted to magic to free himself from the monstrosity. "Ástrice!" He franticly whispered as the skull was thrown from his grasp, taking skin and blood with it.

He heard the clatter as Arthur threw the thigh bone he'd been wielding and Gwaine struggled to stand.

"What sort of sorcery is this?" Arthur exclaimed, shaking his head and unsheathing his sword.

The knights joined him; they were all poised and ready to fight.

"Show yourselves." The royal demanded.

There was nothing, no entity to battle, just an eerie stillness. Merlin heard it first - even if the others didn't – a faint melodious laugh that echoed through the cavern becoming louder, morphing into a distant rumble and the sound of falling stones. The bones moved too; radius found ulna and phalanx found phalanx - drawing together to form hands, then feet…

The knights ran.

Clouds of dust and stones rained from above as they sprinted down the endless passageways and back towards the entrance. Finally there was a glimmer of light but as they turned the corner they were right back where they'd started – except the bones were now fully-formed skeletons picking up weapons. One rose from its knees, slowly uncoiling, it was much larger than the rest and it's jaw was stained red with a crimson hand print. The skull turned, baring its chipped tooth. It laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. Its fingers gripped a large broadsword, held ready to advance.

Arthur pivoted on the spot and dove into a tunnel. "This is useless!" The king roared. "We're going 'round in circles."

They had to get out; elite knights were no match for this kind of magic.

"This way!" Merlin bellowed.

They followed without question, magic led them through the labyrinth, twisting and turning, racing against the filth filling the air, falling rocks and marching feet. Merlin kept checking in front, the entrance to the cave was shrinking in size with every step.

A yell from behind made him turn; Percival and Gwaine clashed swords with the enemy, striking them down. Even as the bones spilled onto the floor they were already scuttling together and reforming – how do you kill that which is already dead?

Bony fingers curled around Arthur's arm. He sliced through them and they exploded but there were too many. Even with skill and Excalibur on their side it was five against a hundred. The warlock whispered a hasty spell and the fingers that gripped Leon's throat crumbled; he whispered another, blocking the passageway with tumbling debris.

At last the opening came into view and Merlin held back, pushing the knights in front and checking they'd lost no one. Percival, Leon, Gwaine, and Arthur all squeezed through the gap towards daylight and salvation.

Merlin was the last; he alone was what stood between the outside world and the skeleton army. He could not risk such malevolence escaping. The cave was collapsing but he held out his hands anyway. The warlock whispered words that would make the rocks fall over the tunnels and seal them magically shut forever.

"Gewican ge stanas!"

The dust stung his eyes, disorienting him and making him cough. Something gripped his ankle and sent him crashing to the ground. He was hauled backwards, pulled along the ground on his stomach, joints jarring against the rough stone until he was sucked through the smallest gap and spat out the other side.

The tiny hole he'd come from closed over. Rocks obscured what was left, yet dust spewed out as a distant rumble filled the air. It was finally over.

Merlin spat the dirt from his mouth. His skin burned from being practically flayed but it was worth it to be out of the cave.

"Everyone all right?" Arthur demanded, breathing hard, and bent over. "Merlin?"

"I'm fine." The servant managed, rubbing his ankle, panting and pulling himself up onto all fours.

"Sorry about that." Percival gestured to Merlin's leg. "We had to get you out."

"Well, at least it's stopped raining!" Gwaine declared, stretching his hand out towards his friend and helping him up. "Never a dull moment." He grinned.

"To Camelot." Arthur ordered.

No one needed any encouragement and the small party rallied themselves into action, brushing dirt from their clothes, thankful for being alive and for sweet air in their lungs. Good riddance to the cave and Ode's bones.

The journey back was subdued and mostly silent – no one wanted to talk about what had happened, what horror had narrowly been avoided. Despite their escape Merlin's magic was still flaring; warm air would sometimes ghost over his neck and the wind felt like a whisper in his ear. Shadows would catch his attention, just out of reach, but there was never anything there. Even so, he couldn't help jumping with very noise. He checked every sound, the rustle of trees or cry of a bird, until a pair of gloves hit the back of his head and he nearly fell over.

"For goodness' sake, Merlin!"

He tried to stop, of course he did - but it was no good, he was haunted by the image of that laughing skull every time he shut his eyes. Overwhelming fatigue meant his eyes closed a lot.

Eventually the tall pillars of Camelot came into view. Gwaine slapped Merlin on the shoulder before turning to leave.

"What was that, Gwaine?"

Merlin swung around to face the knight but he was several paces in front.

"I didn't say anything."

The servant frowned. "I thought..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Get yourself cleaned up, Merlin. You look too pale, you look like hell."

"Is that so surprising?"

"All the more reason to celebrate our miraculous survival, my friend! I'll see you later at the feast." The rogue knight winked and trotted up the stairs into the castle.

Merlin trudged up the steps, exhaustion hitting him in a relentless wave. He wished near-death experiences would not coincide with all the work involved in trying to prepare for a large feast. I'll just rest for a little bit, then I'll be fine.

He did not see the shadow that followed as he plodded slowly back to his chambers.

Merlin frowned when he did not receive the usual smiles of greeting; it was like he was invisible. He had to admit he looked a bit of state in his torn and dusty clothes, dried blood on his palms and knees, but still it was not normal for other staff to ignore him.

Turning a corner he saw Queen Guinevere striding up the corridor; he gave his old friend a broad smile and a wave but she swept straight past without stopping or acknowledging his presence. Merlin's hand flopped to his side. There was no denying they'd drifted apart since she'd become a royal but he had not thought things were that bad, that the gulf was so wide.

At the sound of footsteps he froze, with a dead heart he slowly turned and predictably the corridor was empty. Unnerved, Merlin hurried towards his room. Gwaine came into view and Merlin stood in his path expecting the knight to slow down - he didn't. He had to crash into Merlin's shoulder and hear the servant yell before he stopped.

"Merlin!"

He patted the servant on the arm. "I didn't see you?"

"I was standing right there, Gwaine. How could you miss me?" He exclaimed windmilling his arms hysterically.

Gwaine lifted both palms. "Slow down, Merlin. I'm just saying you need to look after yourself. You're way too skinny - like one of those skeletons."

"That's not funny."

"It is a bit funny."

"No, Gwaine, it's not." He really wasn't in the mood for jokes and was more than a little on edge.

"Sorry." The knight's chin dropped then he looked quizzical. "Why haven't you changed?"

"We've only just got back."

"We've been back for hours."

"What?"

"We've been back for ages – what have you been doing?"

Merlin rubbed his head. What was going on? He could have sworn he'd only just stepped back into the castle but Gwaine was washed and dressed in clean clothes.

"Are you alright?" Gwaine looked concerned. "Merlin?"

"I'm fine, just tired. I must have lost track of time, that's all." Merlin pushed past his friend. "I'd better go and get ready."

"Good idea; I heard Arthur saying something about wanting clean boots." The knight's voice followed him down the corridor.

By the time he'd reached the physician's quarters his eyes were sliding shut and it was an immense effort to keep them open. He only intended to rest for a moment but no sooner had he dropped into the chair then he was asleep.

Merlin jerked awake as the door banged.

"Gaius! Have you seen my good for nothing servant?"

Arthur strode straight past Merlin and up the steps into the servant's room, pushing the door open as he peered inside.

"Merlin?"

"Arthur?" The servant got up, walking over to the king and waving his hand in his face.

The royal did not react, instead he surveyed the room, letting out a small huff.

Merlin banged the table with his fist. "I'm here!"

Arthur spun around, gaze darting from side to side and hand hovering over his sword. Merlin pushed the chair back and Arthur drew his weapon.

"Who's there? Show yourself." The king's back was straight, his knees slightly bent, body poised.

The warlock grabbed a quill and scribbled his signature on a piece of parchment.

"Merlin?" Arthur gasped. "Spirit, I swear, if you've harmed a hair on his head -"

The royal slammed his sword directly at the table and Merlin only just dived out of the way. He was still regaining his balance when the blade whooshed perilously close to his left ear.

"Where is he? What have you done?" Arthur lunged again.

Any other time Merlin would have been overjoyed by Arthur's words, his urge to defend what he often mocked but not when he was trying not to get speared by the very man who was trying to protect him – Oh, the irony!

A flash of gold made the door slam. Arthur vaulted over the table, grabbed the latch and charged into the corridor.

Merlin sank to his knees. What the hell?

He checked his reflection in the mirror. He felt solid enough - am I really? Does my skin look more translucent? Is that the table I can see? Merlin slapped his face and yelped in pain; evidently he could interact with the physical world. What's happening? Where is Gaius?

The warlock charged down the corridor; no one seemed to see him and he was forced to dodge other servants. He stopped at the large window that looked out over the courtyard. Gwaine and Percival were talking down there. Gwaine had seen him before, maybe he would again. In desperation Merlin banged on the glass. The knight turned and stared but there was no indication he'd seen Merlin. He banged on glass again, "Gwaine! Gwaine!" He shouted frantically.

Gwaine turned, shielding his eyes, but just shrugged and turned back to Percival.

"No! Why can't you see me?" Merlin hit the sill in frustration.

"I can see you."

Merlin spun around. There stood a tall imposing figure of a man with shoulder-length auburn hair and full beard. He looked resplendent in a forest green velvet robe with fur trim.

"My lord." The servant bowed in submission as was the proper greeting for a noble.

"No need for such formalities when we've already met." The lord chuckled.

Merlin's blood chilled at the familiarity of the sound.

"Don't you recognise me?" He smiled, revealing a chipped tooth.

The warlock froze.

The noble's hand shot forward, emerging from the robe; it was a skeletal arm, devoid of flesh.

"Allow me to introduce myself: King Ode - and you must be the sorcerer that set me free."

The skeletal arm made a swipe at Merlin's throat and he threw himself away from its grasp, directing his magic at the phantom.

The blast hit then rebounded, sending the warlock skidding across the floor and crashing into a suit of armour. Bits flew everywhere, the sound of the metal pieces spinning on stone deafening.

Merlin shook his head; his vision took a moment to focus only to see the horror of Ode examining his arm - an arm that had moments before been brittle bone now hung with flesh, new muscle, red and raw and yet to be sheathed in skin.

"Such power! I have collected many souls but none like you." He smiled. "Shall we speed up the transition? You're going to die anyway – a life for a life after all." He took a step towards Merlin. "I can make it painless; better than just fading away until no one remembers you were ever there."

Merlin grabbed a gauntlet, launching it at the king in a bid to stop his advance. It bounced harmlessly to the floor.

"It's a bit late, but I accept." Ode chuckled, drawing his sword and aiming it at Merlin, who only just rolled away in time.

"Ecg misse!"

The blade flew from Ode's hand.

"Oh, very good. Once I am whole that power can help my army march too."

Using his magic drained the warlock and he watched helplessly as Ode stooped down to pick up his sword - a grotesque figure, half flesh and half bone.

Ode made an arc through the air with his weapon but before it could slice through Merlin's torso it was met by another blade.

TBC

Thoughts and theories welcome, part II coming soon.

There is an illustration to go with this that can be see at Heart of Camelot under my Art thread or A03