by Bill Hiatt
“If I can ride along in someone else, I can go,” Magnus suggested.
Magnus hadn’t tried to steal my body, though I had been weak enough to give him the opportunity. But asking someone else to run that risk, especially when most of them couldn’t fight him off if he got feisty? I couldn’t ask anyone to do that.
I decided to ask for a volunteer, not because I expected to get one, but because I thought the idea of being stuck with Magnus again might convince my friends there were worse things than leaving me behind on Olympus for a little while. As I predicted, everyone looked aghast. Well, everyone except Michael.
“I’ll do it,” he said as if he was volunteering to polish the swords or something.
“That’s too dangerous,” insisted Gordy. “You don’t know how to resist a possession, you know, like what happened to Jimmie.”
Magnus was yelling in my head, and I was getting a headache. “Magnus wanted me to remind you that Michael resists any mental or physical changes. He’s actually the only one among you Magnus couldn’t possess even if he wanted to.”
“But then what good is that?” asked Stan. “We need someone who can use magic. If Magnus can’t assume control of the body, how is he going to do that?”
“I think Merlin worked through Jimmie during the effort to keep me from dying that time my spirit got trapped outside my body,” I reminded Stan. “He didn’t have to possess him. He just needed to make a connection with him.”
“It’s not ideal,” thought Magnus, “but it’s much better than nothing.”
“I still don’t like this,” said Shar. “We stand a much better chance of success with you than without you. Perhaps we should wait until Zeus and the others have been rescued.”
“Are you sure that is what you wish?” Apollo asked. Perhaps he felt guilty about keeping all of us here, but, for whatever reason, he didn’t look overjoyed at the prospect of the whole gang sticking around.
“I don’t know about anyone else, but I want to be able to get back to Earth as soon as possible,” said Carlos. “Who knows what Vanora’s been doing in our absence? Shar, I don’t like this any more than you do, but Tal may be right. It does seem like he’s needed here, and the rest of us could do a lot of good for Gwynn. With this many problems, maybe we can’t afford to all work on just one. Splitting up makes sense.”
“There’s also Carla to consider,” said Alex. “She’s still under Cronus’s spell, and the sooner we break that, the better.”
“There’s also Nurse Florence,” said Eva. I was embarrassed I’d almost forgotten about her.
“She came to Olympus with you, right?” Eva continued. Alex and I nodded. “Well, she isn’t here, is she?”
“Sadly, it appears she has been taken elsewhere,” said Hestia.
“‘Elsewhere’ could be elsewhere on this plane,” I said. “If we find Zeus and the others, we may find her as well. Our other priorities are important, but we can’t just leave finding her to chance.”
“I guess that’s right,” Shar conceded. “We can’t just abandon anybody.”
There was a little more bickering and nitpicking, but eventually everyone agreed to what I was proposing. Eva’s point had played a key role in breaking that deadlock.
Executing the plan took a bit longer than I would have liked, though. Michael’s unusual nature, though it protected him from being possessed, also made it difficult to anchor Magnus to him. It took Magnus, Hermes, and me working together to pull it off, and sustaining the connection would force Magnus to keep burning energy, much as he had needed to exert constant force to keep Michael asleep earlier. Still, it was, as Magnus had said, better than nothing.
Then another problem immediately arose. Magnus wanted to take the lyre with him, but Michael’s musical skill was about at the same level mine had been before the original Taliesin had awakened inside me—in other words, borderline pathetic. Stan could go into David mode and play, but when he did, it produced a kind of blessing over the whole party rather than the raw magical power Magnus was looking for.
Robin Goodfellow had every reason to hate and fear Magnus, but in the end he agreed to go along and be the lyre player. Even getting him to that point required everyone being bound with yet another tynged to protect him from harm, but having a decent musician was worth it with an artifact as powerful as the lyre.
With that resolved, my group was finally ready to go. Magnus opened a portal, Apollo gave him permission to depart, and after that the group stepped one by one into the silver swirl and were swept away to Gwynn’s castle in Annwn. Hopefully, they were getting there in time to bring him victory.
I turned back to the Olympians, eager to get on with freeing the real Zeus.
“All right, lead the way to Atlantis,” I said.
“Let us rest a few minutes first,” said Apollo, surprising me a little. “I am weaker than I thought. I shall have a goblet of nectar, and then we shall be off.”
Much to my surprise, all of the Olympians decided this would be a good moment for a nectar break. The timing seemed weird, with Hecate potentially growing stronger every minute. At the same time, I could understand their reluctance to confront her in less-than-peak condition.
While they sipped nectar from golden goblets, I tried to use the senses of Zeus to see if I could find Atlantis. Either his remarkable vision did not extend into Poseidon’s domain, or I had inherited a defective version of it, because I saw no sign of the sunken island. It wouldn’t matter, though; the Olympians would know where it was.
“We are ready,” Apollo announced.
“Excellent!” I said, still staring down at the ocean. “Are we all going?”
“Not quite all,” replied Apollo. Still focused on searching, I didn’t realize what was happening until one of his arrows hit me in the right hand.
Chapter 26: Annwn Under Siege (Jimmie)
Gwynn’s castle had not fallen when we arrived, but the English faeries had him surrounded, both physically and magically—something we hadn’t counted on.
We got in only because Magnus could tap into the same kind of connection with the Order of the Ladies of the Lake that Tal had and use the privilege of appearing wherever Gwynn was. Whoever had entrapped him had apparently not thought to block that particular mode of travel.
Getting out, though, could be a whole different matter. Magnus wouldn’t say as much, but I had the feeling neither portals nor Lady of the Lake travel by water would allow us to leave. If we couldn’t find a way for Gwynn to win the battle, we would end up as doomed as he was.
It didn’t help my mood that Eva seemed unusually preoccupied. I couldn’t blame her, and with little Tal spending half his time staring at us accusingly, it was hard to even squeeze in a kiss. Still, having to act as if we really didn’t have a relationship was getting on my nerves.
Then there was the problem of Magnus. Trying to stay in Michael’s body was costing him too much energy since he was essentially fighting Michael’s constant reversion to his original state. Leaving that body, though, meant being unable to use his magic—unless he could find another host.
We could all see that Gwynn desperately needed all the magic he could get. Wanting Magnus in our heads was an entirely different thing, though. Maybe he really was a better guy now, but only days ago, he had hijacked my body and given it to Atlante. Almost everybody else had seen enough of Magnus in action to doubt the sincerity of Magnus 2.0.
It was a measure of Gwynn ap Nudd’s desperation that he recruited a faerie willing to allow Magnus to make use of his body for the duration of the siege. There was a tynged to guarantee that Magnus would relinquish the body when the time came, though. Gwynn might be desperate, but he was not stupid.
My already-jangled nerves got thoroughly shredded and then stamped on during the council of war to which Gwynn summoned us soon after our arrival.
“My friends, glad as I am to see you, I almost wish you had not come, for even with you, I do not see how we can prevail,�
� the faerie monarch told us—not exactly a promising beginning.
“It may be the enemy does not yet realize we are here,” said Magnus through the mouth of his new faerie body. “That—”
“Isn’t it more likely that Tanaquill is in league with the very people we just defeated and figures we’d come here next?” asked Shar. I didn’t have to ask to tell he wished Magnus had stayed on Olympus.
“Tanaquill may indeed have aligned herself with the likes of Nicneven,” conceded Gwynn. “Nonetheless, Magnus, speak on. You have a plan?”
“I may have a plan, Majesty, but first let me ask a question. How do your fellow faerie rulers stand on this attack? Are there any who might come to your defense?”
Gwynn laughed, but it was the kind of humorless laugh I was all too used to hearing these days. “You know faerie politics well enough to answer that question yourself. They make speeches about it, but they do not seem inclined to intervene if they can avoid it. Some Irish faeries have appeared, they say at the Dagda’s bequest. Their high king of all faeries has not taken the field, though.”
“I was thinking about him,” said Magnus. “If we could gain his aid—”
“He says he cannot come,” interrupted Gwynn. “He says he must reinforce the efforts of his harp to maintain order, that outside forces will disrupt Annwn otherwise.” Gwynn leaned forward. “If you ask me, what he really wants is for me to acknowledge him as high king. Were I willing, he might come readily enough. Alas, I do not yet trust his intentions well enough to give him my support.”
“Forgive me, Majesty,” said Magnus, “but that seems a fair trade if he can lift the siege and drive the English forces back.”
“Unless he then marries Tanaquill and makes her his high queen. There are whispers he intends to do exactly that.”
Magnus was at a loss for words—for all of about thirty seconds. I might hate him, but even I had to admit he wasn’t easily surprised.
“If I could get to his court, I might find out how sincere he is,” Magnus suggested. “I suspect the disruptions he speaks of were radiating from the Olympian plane, in which case they are almost over. If that was truly his reason for denying you, he should be eager now to come to your aid.”
“Perhaps…but now that you are here, you have no way of reaching him.”
“You have sufficient sorcerers to break the magic around the castle that keeps us all here?” asked Magnus. “I’d need only a minute or two to slip away.”
“I have barely enough to keep Tanaquill’s sorcerers from overwhelming us,” replied Gwynn. “If I tasked them with breaking the spell and they failed, we would be exposed.”
“Then let us try,” said Magnus. “We have the lyre of Orpheus, and our new recruit, Lucas over there, can generate magical energy when he dances the same way the lyre can when it plays. The image of young Taliesin over there can also serve as a great source of magical power—”
“If someone drawing on him is careful,” interrupted Eva.
Magnus continued as if she had not spoken. “Lend us some musicians, and give us a little time. If I cannot crack the spell, you have lost nothing. If I can, you may gain a great deal.”
Gwynn eyed Magnus for a moment, then said, “Let it be as you have said. I will find such musicians as are not aiding in the defense and send them to you.”
Magnus brought us out into the courtyard to prepare. The defensive magic from Gwynn’s sorcerers was so intense we couldn’t see the sky through it, but that was just as well. Hostile faerie archers would have shot us down in seconds without that kind of protection.
It took some doing on Magnus’s part, but eventually he coaxed everyone into networking with him again. He needed the power sharing and communication to have the best chance to break the binding that held everyone inside the castle, but without Tal to supervise him, he could certainly misuse that kind of system.
We were back in the same position we had been in before: in Tal’s absence, we had to rely on Magnus. There wasn’t really much choice, unfortunately.
Magnus had us position ourselves in a circle. Since he now had a body he could control, he played the lyre himself. Robin joined in with his magic flute, and then the faerie musicians harmonized, creating the most beautiful music I had ever heard. Entranced, Lucas moved gracefully into a dance in which Gabriela joined. The rest of us all sang—not well, for the most part, but somehow the sounds blending into something far greater than our individual contributions.
The music became faster, less soothing, and more powerful as Magnus built the force he needed. I could see the tension in the muscles of his borrowed face. He looked determined to make this work.
Through the network I could feel the magic building. First it had been like a gentle breeze blowing all around us. Now I felt more like I was in the eye of a hurricane.
Then Magnus struck, smashing the accumulated energy against the hostile-magic barrier that held us like flies on flypaper. That barrier did not give immediately, but Magnus kept up the barrage, striking it over and over.
Michael almost lost consciousness, and I could hear Eva through the network cautioning Magnus he couldn’t draw on him quite that fast. Magnus was in such a frenzy by this time that I wasn’t sure he even heard her.
Then Magnus struck so hard that feeling the blow was like hearing thunder right next to me, and the barrier shattered.
Magnus immediately opened a portal, looked at us, said, “Sorry, no time to spare,” and lunged through the portal, which vanished behind him.
“Well, either he’s gone to get help, or he’s escaping inevitable capture if the castle falls,” said Gordy.
“I believe it to be the first,” said Gwynn, who had just strode into the courtyard. “I only wish I had realized how much power he could raise. My sorcerers tell me the hostile spell was so utterly destroyed it may be several minutes before the English can restore it. Had such a power been joined to that of the other sorcerers, it might have enabled us to launch a strong attack.”
If that was true, I had a hard time understanding why Gwynn was suddenly so full of optimism. Magnus could have made a difference in the battle, but instead he was off on an unlikely diplomatic mission at best, running away at worst.
Gwynn almost immediately got absorbed by a conversation with one of his generals, leaving us to wonder what was happening. I supposed I should have been used to that by now.
“To be fair, if Magnus can actually get the Dagda here, and if we can recreate magic of that power level, we have a real chance of turning this war around,” said Stan.
“We’re vulnerable in the meantime, though,” Shar pointed out, “And I’m not sure I trust him to return. I think he’s off in search of a body he isn’t tynged-bound to relinquish.”
“He isn’t going to leave Eva,” said Carlos. I looked at the ground, embarrassed. I couldn’t quite say why. Everybody knew about the odd triangle—or maybe now, with Michael involved, quadrangle. Still, when someone talked about that mess, it seemed more real to me, less easy to brush roughly under the nearest rug.
“Jimmie?” I looked up. Michael was standing next to me and fidgeting.
“Yeah, Michael, what can I do for you?”
“I was thinking I never really apologized to you for what I said before. I think it’s the greatest thing ever that you came back to life. And…and I want to be friends again.”
I couldn’t resist hugging him. “It’s OK, Michael. You’ve had to put up with so much weirdness that it’s a miracle you’re still sane.”
“I just thought of something…really disturbing,” said Dan. That got everyone’s attention.
“How could Magnus have been bound by a tynged? The last time we tried that, we failed, remember? Because of the conflicting tynged he had with Nicneven.”
“That only blocks a general tynged, though,” Stan reminded us. “This one was specific enough to get around that restriction, I guess.”
“You weren’t listening carefully,” said D
an. “Yeah, the first part was very specific, about returning the body. Gwynn had a couple sentences at the end, though, that were really general. Stuff about doing Gwynn and his allies no harm.”
“Then that’s good news,” suggested Alex. “It means Nicneven is dead, and the tynged is dissolved.”
“Why would someone go to the trouble of stealing her body if she was actually dead?” asked Shar. “The only motive to do that would be if she was alive…or if that wasn’t her at all. We’ve been fooled by her duplicate before.”
“Maybe it means Magnus now counts as dead, and the tynged dissolved for that reason,” said Carlos.
“Could be,” Dan admitted. “But isn’t part of the purpose of his staying in someone else’s body to keep him anchored, so he doesn’t count as dead? I’m afraid there’s another explanation.”
“OK, don’t kill us with the suspense,” I said. “What is it?”
“That we aren’t dealing with Magnus at all. Somehow, between the time his body exploded and the time he supposedly got Tal to let him into Tal’s body, someone other than Magnus sneaked in. You know, we’ve seen copies of people’s bodies quite a lot. The copy is perfect unless someone probes deeply into the copy’s mind. What really prevents someone from using a variation of the same spell to copy just the mind?
“Magnus isn’t bound by the tynged, because he isn’t Magnus. He’s some stranger, up to God knows what.”
“Come to think of it, Magnus shouldn’t have been able to get us here,” said Stan. “Hasn’t he been blocked by Arawn’s ban in the same way Tal is?”
I wasn’t sure which was worse: dealing with a Magnus we might not be able to trust or dealing with a fake spirit we didn’t even know.
“Something else could have happened,” said Michael quietly. We were all a little surprised, because up to now Michael hadn’t joined in during this kind of conversation.
“What do you think happened?” Eva asked.
“Isn’t what happened to Magnus kind of…unusual?” asked Michael. “I mean, nobody ever breaks one of those tynged things, right?”