Separated from Yourselves

by Bill Hiatt

  “I knew he wasn’t a nice guy,” said Tal after thinking for a minute. “But none of you seem that nice to me.”

  “Just think about it, OK?” I asked. Tal didn’t say anything. He just stared at me. He was thinking, but that was all I could be sure of. I shouldn’t have hit him with all of that so quickly, but I still needed enough time to reach out to Merlin.

  “Tal, I have to concentrate on something for a few minutes. I need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

  Tal opened his mouth, then closed it again. I didn’t think he wanted to keep quiet, but he was still having trouble catching up with reality. Taking his momentary silence as the best opportunity I was likely to get, I sat up and closed my eyes. If nothing else, I didn’t think he’d punch me again under those circumstances.

  I reached out with my mind, keeping away from where Dark Me was. Just in case he was scanning, I didn’t want him to sense what I was doing.

  I started wondering whether the risk I was taking was worth it. I knew there was a chance—actually, a pretty good one—that Merlin had already moved on. I had forgotten an even more important obstacle, though. Even if Merlin was still somewhere around, watching us or whatever, there was no guarantee he had or even could follow us when we quickly shifted to a different plane of existence.

  It would have been hard enough for me to figure out how to search with my mind for Merlin beyond the area. But beyond this world? Someone powerful enough or properly trained might have done it, but I was neither. Maybe I should just let Tal beat my brains out and be done with it. When it came to saving the day, I was a complete failure.

  “Who are you?” asked a very faint voice in my head. I had never spoken with anyone dead except Merlin, and this clearly wasn’t Merlin, but I could sense the person was dead.

  I didn’t respond at first. I knew I was playing a real long shot to actually find Merlin lurking nearby, but hey, stranger things had happened. I wasn’t prepared, though, for the presence of someone besides Merlin.

  “Who are you?” The voice had become louder and more demanding.

  “James Stevens.”

  “And what brings you to this abandoned place?”

  “I seek Merlin.” Perhaps I shouldn’t have told the ghost that, but someone tied to Alcina’s island might just know something about Merlin. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  The ghost responded with a joyless laugh that gave me the creeps. “Merlin has been trapped for centuries in a place far from here. Why would you expect to find him on this island?”

  Since I knew more than the ghost did about Merlin’s recent fate, I wasn’t going to get any useful information. I should have found some way to end the conversation and get Tal back to the others.

  Should have, could have, didn’t. Maybe the ghost’s presence here was a sign of some sort, and just talking to it couldn’t do any real harm.

  “He has been freed and is now dead. I seek him here because he has in the past shown an interest in my friend.”

  The ghost paused so long I thought it might have departed, then said, “The boy? What concern has Merlin with him?”

  “He is the reincarnation of someone Merlin once knew,” I replied. Yeah, I was giving a lot of information to a complete stranger, but all of it was pretty well known among supernaturals.

  There was another pause, this one even longer than before, so I took the opportunity to ask the spirit who it was. I didn’t get an immediate answer and began to wonder if the question had somehow offended it, but finally it replied, “I am Atlante, once a mighty sorcerer. Perhaps I could offer you the aid you sought from Merlin.”

  I had not seen that offer coming and didn’t know how to respond.

  “For what purpose did you seek Merlin?” asked Atlante. I felt a surge of anxiousness from him. For some reason, he really wanted to help—or at least make me think he did.

  “My friend here is under a spell that cost him four years of his life and memories. We do not know how the spell was cast, so we cannot break it.”

  Another long pause, followed by, “Yes, I can feel the magic upon your friend. It is most powerful indeed, but given enough time, I could find a way to break it.”

  If Atlante really had been a sorcerer, maybe he could help, but unlike Merlin, who I knew well enough to trust, I knew nothing about Atlante.

  “All I would require in return is that you help me in my quest.”

  Yeah, I knew nothing about him—except that he wanted something.

  Tal picked that particular moment to give me a little shove. “What are you doing?” he asked, clearly irritated I was taking so long.

  “Please, Tal,” I said. “I have reached someone who might be able to help you. Give me a few minutes.” I could hear him grumbling, but I did my best to tune him out.

  “What is your quest, great sorcerer?” I asked. For all I knew, the ghost could just as easily have been a blacksmith as a sorcerer, but I didn’t see the harm in playing along.

  “In life I raised an orphaned boy, Ruggiero. He became like a son to me. I would have done anything for him. He had two destinies I could see, neither of which would have led to the kind of life he deserved. Know you of Charlemagne, James?”

  I hadn’t anticipated a history quiz, but the name sounded vaguely familiar. “He was…a king of France, right?”

  “Indeed he was. He fought the Saracens—you would say Muslims, I think—such as I was. I had raised Ruggiero to be a great Saracen warrior, but I discovered one of his possible fates was to convert to Christianity for the love of a woman and then die soon after. This I could not abide, but I came to realize I did not want his other fate for him, either, for if he remained a Saracen, he would be responsible for the destruction of the kingdom of France. Though he would have been remembered as a great warrior, he would have died miserable, tormented by the guilt of all the death he had been responsible for. Despite his allegiance to the Saracen cause, he never wanted to purchase its victory at the cost of the death of so many good men on both sides, and he would have lived long enough to see that even victory over France did not bring an end to the wars between Christian and Saracen but only made them more brutal and more bloody.

  “Even for one of my power, steering between the two fates proved too much for me. I was already dead by the time Ruggiero became a Christian for love and died young. Because I failed to protect him, I found myself unable to move on. Instead I roamed the world and the realms beyond, looking for some way to redeem myself.

  “I learned much later of reincarnation, and then I saw a kind of hope. If I could find the person Ruggiero is now, I could keep him safe, which I had failed to do before.”

  “Jimmie—” Tal began, still impatient.

  “Not right now!” I said loudly, fearful if I stopped concentrating on Atlante, I might lose the connection with him.

  “I’m sorry, Atlante, but I don’t know how to find Ruggiero. Some of my friends have tried before to figure out how to locate a reincarnated soul, but they have always failed.”

  “Yet you know someone who could free Merlin,” replied Atlante. “Surely among your friends is someone who has at least a chance of finding Ruggiero for me.”

  I wished I had the sixteen-year-old Tal to give me advice right now. The only time we’d encountered someone who wanted the kind of information Atlante was looking for, it was Morgan le Fay searching for Lancelot. We didn’t want to give her the information, though we did discover later that Dan was Lancelot.

  Tal’s mom, a seer, had uncovered that information more or less by accident. Seers couldn’t always control the kind of information they got, though, so I couldn’t know whether she could find Ruggiero or not. I also wasn’t sure when we’d even see her again, given our present problem.

  There was, of course, still the problem of whether or not Atlante could be trusted. Tal could probably have told more, but all I could pick up, aside from the fact that Atlante was a ghost, were occasional hints of his emotions. He did seem
sincere enough about helping whoever Ruggiero was now—but I remembered that the disguised Nicneven had seemed sincere about helping me and then used me as a way to attack Tal. No, I couldn’t take the chance.

  “Much as I would value your help, I have nothing to offer in return for it. I’m not sure whether anyone I know will ever be able to track down Ruggiero.”

  “You do not know with certainty that they will not be able to. Perhaps I could lend you some help in exchange for your promise to try.”

  If Atlante was being honest with me, that was the best offer I was likely to get. Assuming he really had the power he claimed, he might be able to help Tal. The only other alternative, trying to find the Merlin needle in the ghost haystack, where the needle might not even be, seemed less appealing the longer I thought about it.

  “I would have to ask my friends—” I started, then realized I couldn’t. No one with me except Dark Me would be able to test Atlante’s claims, but if Dark Me learned about the other sorcerer, we would have a harder time using Atlante against him.

  “Ask whomever you must,” said Atlante, this time without a long pause. If nothing else, he was eager to reach an agreement.

  It suddenly occurred to me that I’d been looking at the situation all wrong. Even if we couldn’t use Atlante to overcome Dark Me, we could get Tal back to normal. Once he was back with us, I had no doubt he could take out Dark Me, with or without any help from Atlante.

  “I will return to my friends at once and tell them about your generous offer.” To Tal I said, “It’s time to head back to the others.”

  Atlante thanked me, and I expected the connection between us to fade, but apparently he was keeping it open. That might mean he could eavesdrop on our conversation, but there really wasn’t any way I could stop him, since he probably didn’t need to stay connected to follow me.

  “How can I go back?” asked Tal, forcing me to focus again on our twisted relationship.

  “I know you still don’t trust me, Tal, but you’ve lost four years of your life, and the only way you can get them back is to stick with us.”

  I could tell he would rather have refused to come, but even with as little as he knew about magic right now, he must have figured out he had no way home if he stayed away from the group, and home, strange as it was to him right now, was still home. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded his agreement, then followed me back sullenly.

  Dark Me sneered at me the moment Tal and I came into view.

  “Took you long enough—and a twelve-year-old beat you up,” DM said. “I knew you weren’t of much use, but your incompetence surprises even me.”

  The other guys and Eva tensed visibly, but I just said, “We’re back. It took a while. Deal with it.”

  I could tell Eva wanted to fuss over my injuries, but we knew each other well enough by now to reach an agreement in a couple of glances. Her paying any immediate attention to me might make Tal bolt again, and that was the last thing we needed. At least now he was quiet.

  I opened my mouth to say something about Atlante, then closed it again. That was the moment I noticed Alex, fully conscious, staring at me. My hand went to my sword, but common sense told me this must not be the time-regressed Alex. It had to be whichever past-life self had been the strongest.

  “I am Jimmie,” I said to the stranger in Alex’s body.

  “Greetings!” he replied. “Your comrades have told me of you. I am Ascalaphus, king of Orchomenus and son of Ares.”

  He should have been speaking ancient Greek rather than English, and he should have been very frightened, but he clearly wasn’t. I hated to admit it, but Dark Me had accomplished a lot during the short time I was gone. Of course, he was drawing on Tal’s experiences with the awakening spell, but having already established enough connection between Ascalaphus and Alex’s memories to give the Greek king the ability to understand and speak English was impressive. So was getting the king to understand his new situation so well.

  “Greetings, Ascalaphus,” I replied.

  He must have read some reluctance in my tone or body language, because he said, “Fear not! Magnus has explained to me how my…my current life self has been…corrupted by evil forces. I am a man of honor and will not be influenced by his desire to kill all of you.”

  Well, that was comforting…sort of.

  “Magnus?” I asked.

  “That’s DM’s new name,” explained Carlos, trying to keep his tone neutral and failing. “It means something like great one in Latin.”

  “And a great one he is indeed,” said Ascalaphus, “for he has healed me much in just a short time.” Gordy snorted loudly.

  “It suits me,” said Magnus, ignoring Carlos and Gordy with rare restraint. “Normally, I’d try to work out a smooth integration between Alex and Ascalaphus, as Tal did for Stan and King David, but I can’t really do that until we get Alex his memories back, so he knows he isn’t our enemy any more.”

  “This one knows much of reincarnation,” thought Atlante, clearly prompting me.

  Magnus must have been scanning me, because he tensed and asked, “Who is that?”

  I explained as clearly as I could, but Atlante’s explanation of who he was had been complicated. He kept prompting me with other details, making it hard to keep track of what I was saying.

  “Jimmie, it would be easier if I could link directly to Atlante through you,” said Magnus.

  The idea of having Magnus in my head was repulsive. I wasn’t reassured by his relatively emotionless face, either. He could just be trying to give me a false sense of security. There was also some risk he would pick up on the earlier conversation with Gordy. Still, letting Magnus talk directly to Atlante could speed up the process of getting Tal back.

  “All right,” I said to Magnus, immediately following that up with “Don’t worry, all of you are going to be right here,” directed at everybody else. Clearly, they didn’t like the idea any better than I did. That didn’t change the fact that it was our only choice if we didn’t want to throw away what could be a good opportunity.

  Magnus had me lie down on the sand and close my eyes. Then he began to play the lyre of Orpheus and sing. He moved into my mind relatively gently. Well, at least gently compared to what I was expecting. To my relief, he didn’t seem inclined to rummage around, and quickly I felt him connect with Atlante.

  I could somewhat hear their mental conversation, but it was far more complicated than I expected as well as far less interesting. Despite myself, I began to feel drowsy. What was happening in my head—or through it, if you want to get technical—was so important that I was embarrassed when I realized I had actually dozed off.

  I opened my eyes, but everything seemed blurry and somewhat darker than it had been when I fell asleep.

  Having been a ghost for a while, it took me only seconds to realize that I wasn’t seeing through physical eyes. Within a minute, I decided that Magnus, that scumbag, had somehow evicted me from my own body and left me in some kind of limbo. It was foggy, not like the gentle mists of Annwn but like a heavy blanket that came close to blocking out the light. It was cold, too, though not physically cold. My mind took whatever sensation it was feeling and interpreted it as cold. No, not just cold. Freezing.

  This explained why Magnus had used the lyre. I knew at the time he shouldn’t have needed that just to make a mental connection through me with Atlante. He needed that extra juice to put me to sleep and scrape me out of my own body without my struggling, because any kind of visible struggle on my part would have caused Gordy or someone else to slap the lyre out of Magnus’s hands.

  What did Magnus want with my body? There could be only one answer: he wanted to put Atlante in it. If I had still been there, I could have occupied at least some of Atlante’s attention by fighting for control. My years as a ghost had given me a better understanding of those kinds of things than most people had. But cut off like this, stranded outside my body somewhere between life and death, I couldn’t fight Atlante. No
r could I manifest like a ghost and warn my friends, much less give Magnus and Atlante hell as I could in my powerful ghost days.

  No, as far as I could tell, I couldn’t do a thing. Neither could anyone else. If Atlante was even a halfway decent actor, it would take my friends a while to realize he wasn’t me.

  I prayed they had that long.

  Chapter 5: Heart Torn in Two (Eva)

  After Magnus finally finished whatever he was doing, Jimmie got up somewhat unsteadily from the sand. I wanted to help him up, but I was again uncomfortably conscious of Tal watching me. Fortunately, Gordy helped Jimmie up.

  “You OK?” Gordy asked, eyeing Magnus suspiciously.

  “Oh, that isn’t Jimmie,” said Magnus as if he were making a comment on the weather. I felt every muscle in my body tighten.

  “What do you mean?” asked Gordy, hand on sword. Anyone else who had a sword did the same thing, except for Jimmie, who looked confused, and Ascalaphus, even more befuddled than Jimmie. Khalid and I readied arrows as fast as we could.

  “Really?” said Magnus, looking back and forth. “Your first response is to get ready to attack me?”

  “What have you done?” asked Gordy, looking prepared to hack away now and ask questions later, if need be.

  “Jimmie has not been harmed in any way. His body is being temporarily occupied by our new ally, Atlante.”

  “This is not what you proposed,” said…Atlante? The tone was a little different from Jimmie’s.

  “Better to be honest with them than to depend on your ability to pretend to be a modern teenager,” Magnus told Atlante.

  “Bring Jimmie back!” I snapped. By now I had an arrow pointed right at Magnus’s heart.

  Magnus looked at me and frowned. “If anything happens to me, you’ll never get Jimmie back. Weapons down, and I’ll explain.”

  I glanced at Gordy, who nodded, though he wasn’t any happier than I was. In about half a minute, we all had reluctantly lowered our weapons. Atlante moved off to one side, looking embarrassed.