by Bill Hiatt
“This means we don’t need to wake Hermes up to get the chains off him or the others.” I pointed out, happy to finally have a bit of good news to pass on. “You and I together should be able to use his hands and his knowledge of lock picking well enough to free him if we can find a suitable tool.”
Naturally, Hecate wouldn’t have left lockpicks just lying around. Changó and I searched for and found bits of metal. Then we used fire to shape them into a decent approximation of lockpicks. Finally, after placing them in Hermes’s limp hands, we reentered the ex-god.
From inside Hermes, we set to work on the chains. The process might not have been as quick as if Hermes had done it himself, but the locks weren’t terribly sophisticated, and in a few minutes we had the manacles off him. Once that was done, we could draw on his own power to help break the sleep spell. For the first time in what must have been days, he opened his eyes.
“Taliesin! I suppose I should have known it would have been you who would come to rescue us.”
“I couldn’t have done it without help,” I said, after which I introduced Changó to Hermes.
“What has Hecate been up to?” Hermes asked, looking at the burns on his arm.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “That was my idea as a way to wake you up. It didn’t work.”
Hermes laughed. “It will heal; worry no more about it. Do tell me, though, what has transpired while we were trapped down here.”
There wasn’t time for a long story, but I gave him the abridged version. Then we set to work to free the others. Each Olympian freed meant one more from which we could draw power, so the process became progressively easier. I half expected Hecate or someone to barge in early in the process and stop us, but no one interfered, and pretty soon we had the very large number of captive Olympians freed.
In one respect we were fortunate. Hecate had anticipated that someone might try to break in and attempt a rescue. The prison chamber, though watertight, was deep in the ocean, nestled among the ruins of Atlantis and encircled by a very large sea monster. In addition, the doors had the equivalent of a magic alarm set on them. However, Hecate was trying to defend against someone breaking in. The idea someone might break out never seemed to have crossed her mind, so the chains themselves had not been equipped with an alarm. A good thing, considering how long we had taken to get to this point—and how much longer we would take to escape from the building.
Like Hermes, the other Olympians all wanted to know what had happened, and it made sense that they should have some idea what was going on so that they could help me strategize. Still, I ached to get moving. I had to swallow my impatience as best I could.
“I do not mean any disrespect,” said Zeus, after he had the story, “but how could a mere mortal have accomplished so much? It seems beyond belief.”
“God has sent him to us,” said Aphrodite, giving me a peck on the cheek, which doubled my pulse rate.
“Fortune smiles on him in ways that suggest divine intervention,” added Athena. “Perhaps our efforts to repent are being acknowledged.”
Ares snorted a little at that.
Yeah, Ares. That was the one thing I hadn’t expected: Ares and Poseidon were both among the prisoners. Apparently, the signs that the two ex-gods were under some kind of control were yet more misdirection on Hecate’s part, another way for her to fool us into thinking the blood double spell couldn’t perfectly duplicate Olympians.
Having the real Ares and Poseidon with us was actually a stroke of luck, since it came closer to evening the numbers on each side. It did not, however, do much for the equipment deficit. All of the gods, especially Zeus, had formidable abilities on their own, as I had found out firsthand, but each one would have been even more powerful with his or her usual weapon, which amplified those innate abilities.
“There is no help for that,” said Hermes. “We can minimize the advantage of our false doubles if we can attack by surprise.”
“I’ve examined the spells on this place,” I said. “If we leave through the door or smash through the walls, our enemies will be alerted instantly. Hecate was guarding against a break-in, but any disruption of the structure from inside will still trigger the spells she put in place.”
“What about the floor?” asked Demeter.
I checked, and there was no specific alarm on the floor—odd, considering how thorough security was everywhere else.
“You intend for us to tunnel into the ground?” Zeus asked Demeter. “It would be hard to make tunnels in the sea ooze, though we might hold them with magic, but what would be the point?”
“If we appear in the sky, false Zeus will know; if in the sea, false Poseidon; if in the earth, perhaps my false image. The seabed, though, is no one’s clear territory. It is the least likely to be watched.”
“Except perhaps by Hecate, and she is no doubt busy,” said Hermes. “If what Taliesin tells us is true, she may even now be executing her plan to test whether an Olympian can leave here in the guise of a mortal.”
“All the more reason for haste,” said Athena. “Such a thing could not be pleasing to God. It could set back our hope to regain our freedom—or even worse. Aunt, let us try this idea of digging into the soil at the bottom of the sea.”
“Not so much digging as passing through it by the grace of Gaia,” clarified Demeter.
“After you disappeared, Gaia was not friendly to us,” said Apollo.
“But now we know why,” said Demeter. “It must have been because Hecate set up a false Demeter somewhere who fooled Gaia into turning against you. I can counteract the false Demeter’s harm.”
“Lady Demeter, Gaia may not be able to tell whether you are false or true,” I pointed out.
“Yet I must try,” she replied. “Help me remove the marble and stone from this spot here.” I don’t know how she picked the spot she was pointing to, but in a room filled with ex-gods, it didn’t take long to crack away the upper layers and reveal the living rock underneath.
Demeter knelt in the space and spent some time communing with Gaia. When she rose, she was smiling.
“Mother Gaia will enable us to pass through the soil without having to disturb it physically. More, she will shield us from the eyes of all. She cannot take us all the way to the peak of Olympus, but she can get us to its base unnoticed. That should give us the element of surprise, should it not?”
“The plan is excellent, Sister,” said Zeus. “Let us prepare to depart at once.”
“Taliesin needs to return to his world,” said Changó.
“Why?” Zeus asked.
“Look at his arm,” the Oricha said, pointing. Blood was trickling down my left bicep, a reminder that Hecate already had my blood.
“It is barely a scratch,” said Zeus. “How should it affect his plans?”
“Do you not see?” asked Changó. “It must be where Hecate extracted blood. Her plan is already in motion, and if it worked, there could be an Olympian disguised as Taliesin in his world. Who knows what harm such a person may do? Only Taliesin can warn his friends and keep them safe.”
My first impulse was naturally to open a portal back into my world, but I hesitated.
Yes, another false Taliesin would be a big problem. Look at how much damage Dark Me did in the beginning. On the other hand, the false Olympians had stayed undetectable to us, because they acted so much like the originals. Surely a false Taliesin would do the same, at least at first.
The problem with leaving now was that the true Olympians hadn’t won yet. They had Changó to help, but that help would be counterbalanced by Hecate’s opposition, and possibly Nicneven’s. The false Olympians were also far better equipped. I didn’t want to throw away what might be the only chance to set things right on Olympus. Besides, Hecate must have taken more than one drop of my blood. As long as she was on the loose, she could send through one false Tal after another. The only way to solve the problem for good was to make sure she was captured.
“Thanks for the warning,
but I need to stay,” I told them.
Even as I heard my own words, I doubted them. I would have had the same doubts, though, if I had made the other choice.
What I was doing was the best course of action.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter 30: A Narrow Escape—or Was It? (Stan)
I only had seconds to do something, or we would die in this fight.
“Faeries of England,” I shouted. “If we die, your queen dies.”
That was enough to make them hesitate, but I knew that would only buy a few seconds.
“You would not dare kill her now!” snapped a faerie, tall and grave enough to be one of Tanquill’s generals. “Any one of you who tried would have a hundred arrows in him before the deed was done.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I replied. “She has within her shadow-assassin poison. We are the only ones who have ever been able to cure that poisoning before it causes death.”
I didn’t mention the fact that we didn’t have either of the people who had actually done that healing, but from what I had heard, keeping Tanaquill in contact with Zom would prevent the poison from progressing until appropriate healers could be found.
“We do not believe you!” shouted back the English faerie spokesman. “This is but a ruse to escape with the queen.”
“Declare a truce, and we will allow one of your healers to examine her—but make it fast. She could die while we’re talking about it.
The faerie spokesman probably thought I was bluffing, but he couldn’t afford to take the chance. Grudgingly, he declared a truce, and a healer scurried forward to examine the queen.
“It is as he said,” confirmed the healer, eyes darting back and forth between me and the spokesman. “There is shadow-assassin poison in the dagger wound.”
“Can you cleanse that poison?” asked the spokesman.
“No one can,” said the healer. “All I can do is try to slow its spread.”
“That’s not true,” said Lucas loudly. “I was cured of shadow-assassin poison—by these people.” Again, a little stretch of the truth, but at least we could keep the queen alive.
“Then there must be a tynged—” began the spokesman.
“Unless your side is willing to agree to break off the siege, there will be no tynged beyond this: We will agree to treat the queen, and she will come to no harm while in our custody. We will agree to her release only if the war ends.”
I had given the English faeries a real dilemma. If they accepted my terms, they had just allowed their own queen to become our prisoner. If they refused, though, the queen would die.
“She is getting worse,” said the healer nervously.
The spokesman looked as if he wished someone else were in charge. “We…we insist…on the return of our queen after she is healed. We also insist one of you remain as hostage to guarantee her safety.”
A lot of the faeries near me had started to fidget. I had the feeling the truce was not going to hold up very much longer.
“Refuse the hostage, but take the release provision,” muttered Gordy. “Best we can do right now.” Shar nodded his agreement, which meant he didn’t think much of our chances if we couldn’t make some kind of deal.
“We will agree to return your queen once she is healed,” I shouted, “but we will not leave a hostage. Surely the tynged is sufficient.”
“Quickly!” suggested the healer. The spokesman took the hint.
“The terms are that you heal the queen, that you do her no harm, and that you return her to us once her healing is complete. Agreed?”
I signaled my agreement, the tynged was cast, and we felt it settle upon us.
“Make way for them!” ordered the spokesman. Reluctantly, the mass of faeries parted, and through the gap in their ranks we carried Umbra and Tanaquill. Once we reached the castle’s moat, the English faeries, both on the ground and in the air, backed away, the defenders lowered the drawbridge, and we moved quickly across, through the gatehouse, and into the courtyard. The drawbridge was raised as soon as we were across, and each gate meticulously closed behind us. Once we were completely inside, the truce ended.
Gwynn was naturally waiting for us in the courtyard. I asked him to have Tanaquill bound, after which we laid Zom upon her, and she immediately awakened. The sword’s antimagic field prevented the poison from acting, but only as long as the sword remained in contact with her.
“Release me at once!” she demanded as soon as she was alert enough to do so.
“Majesty, I cannot release you in this castle,” I explained. “Once you are healed, we will untie you and return you to your people.”
“Perhaps in the meantime we may find a way to end these hostilities,” suggested Gwynn.
“They will only end with your surrender—or preferably, your death,” announced Tanaquill, eyes cold, fists clenched.
Tense as Gwynn probably was, he laughed. “Yet it is you who have a deadly poison in your veins, not I. It is you who would be dead in minutes without our aid.”
Tanaquill would normally have denied every word he said, except that she could sense the poison herself. I tried to calm her down by explaining the tynged to her. She stared at me with eyes like ice cubes—but at least she had stopped yelling. At this point, I would take what I could get.
“Stanford, a word if you please,” said Gwynn. The tone wasn’t harsh, but his eyes seemed dark, almost menacing.
“Yes, Majesty?” I said with a bow as we stepped away from the group.
“There was wisdom in what you did,” said Gwynn, “I would not have wished Tanaquill dead, for then her troops would have fought on, determined to avenge her as a matter of honor…yet you should have consulted me on the terms of the tynged. You captured her only to let her go, with nothing gained.”
“Majesty, I honestly believe we would all be dead right now if I had not agreed to her release.”
“I would not have wished any of you dead,” Gwynn conceded. “However, my circumstances are dire. If the war continues the way it has been, I fear I will lose, and the freedom of the Welsh faeries will be no more.”
“We will do all we can to help, Majesty,” I said in as reassuring a tone as I could manage. Only David’s presence inside me prevented me from shaking visibly.
“That is, if we can cure Tanaquill,” I added, hoping to get Gwynn to focus on more immediate issues. “Without Tal and Nurse Florence—”
“Ah, well that at least has been remedied,” said Gwynn, relaxing a little. “Taliesin and Viviane arrived from Olympus only a few minutes ago. I shall have them brought down at once.”
With that, he rushed off to do as he had said, and I tried to resist the impulse to breathe a sigh of relief too noticeably.
“Did he rip you a new one?” asked Gordy as I rejoined the group. Some of Gwynn’s guards had carried his unwelcome guest away, so I felt as if I could talk freely.
“That wasn’t just me, then?”
“Hell no. I could feel the icicles forming all around us.”
“It isn’t as if we could just lie down and die out there,” said Dan. “You did what you needed to do to keep us safe. He’ll get over it, I’m sure—especially if we save the day. Now that Tal and Nurse Florence are back, I’m sure he’ll pull off another victory.”
I wouldn’t say it aloud, but I wasn’t at all sure that was what would happen. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Tal. If my life had to depend on someone, I’m glad it was him. I’d seen the enormous faerie army outside, though. Gwynn’s forces seemed reduced to the garrison of this one castle, plus a few Irish faeries. We were boxed in magically as well as physically, which suggested our forces were inferior in every way. Could even Tal overcome that big a disadvantage?
I tried to stuff my brooding down deep inside me and put on a happy face as soon as I saw Tal and Nurse Florence. I knew he wouldn’t randomly read my mind, so my fears could remain mine.
Both Tal and Nurse Florence went into professional mode as soon as they
saw Tanaquill. From what I’d been told, the conditions were not as good as they had been on Alcina’s island when they healed Lucas, but this time they had the support of Gwynn’s healers, to say nothing of not having to go through trial and error, as they had the last time. They already knew how to cure the poison.
I watched in fascination as they extracted sunlight from Jimmie’s sword and then somehow distilled it into a potion Tanaquill could drink. The sunlight part was tricky, but they had done it before, and in only about an hour the crisis was past.
I wasn’t surprised when Tanaquill offered not a single word of thanks. I was surprised when she asked to speak to Gwynn, who appeared only minutes after she had made the request.
“I would use this opportunity to negotiate,” she told him. “I regret that my earlier words were…somewhat hasty and ill chosen.”
Gwynn looked surprised, but only for a moment. He glanced over at Tal as if suspecting him of having used some kind of compulsion spell on Tanaquill. Perhaps he even asked Tal mentally. We weren’t networked, so I couldn’t tell.
When Gwynn turned back to Tanaquill, he said, “I would welcome such an opportunity, but, as you are a powerful sorceress, there must be a tynged—”
“There will be…when we agree to a peace,” she replied. “Until then I will swear to nothing. You may, however, take measures to restrain my powers, so long as I do not have to be physically bound, and you guarantee my safety.”
“How am I to do that without a tynged?” asked Gwynn.
“As a gesture of good will, I shall accept your word as sufficient guarantee,” Tanquill replied, again catching Gwynn off guard.
I knew Gwynn was honorable, but I, too, was unnerved she was so willing to trust in the honor of someone she had just been trying to overthrow. Perhaps she was trusting more in our reputations, of which she must have been aware. Because of our tynged, we might have to fight Gwynn if he tried to harm her.
Gwynn unhesitatingly gave his word not to harm Tanaquill, and rather quickly she departed, accompanied by a small army of Gwynn’s guards and sorcerers, who would escort her to suitable quarters—and make sure her magic was suitably bound for the duration of the negotiations.