The girls’ eyes were wide. Zeus’ were wider.
Megan smiled serenely. “I had a classical education. If you want to threaten me, come up with something new.”
Zeus opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
She had unnerved him after all.
“All right then,” she said. “You brought me here. You must know that this situation is out of control, and that I can help you.”
“I want you to take back everything you said to my girls.” Finally Zeus found his voice.
“And lie to them? I would never do that. Nor would I manipulate them or use them to my own ends. Like you have. Which, I must say, is disgraceful in a father.”
The girls ducked. Zeus’ cheeks reddened, and Megan did wonder if she was going to end up as a statue or a bear or pushing a rock uphill for all of eternity.
But he didn’t do anything — at least not yet.
“Here are my rules,” Megan said. “I assume you want this dispute with your daughters settled—”
“They ran away,” he said, sounding like a child.
“We escaped,” Brittany said.
“We’re no good at Fating,” Crystal said.
“We’re never going back,” Tiffany said.
“—and,” Megan said to Zeus as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “and I will help you resolve this if and only if you do not interrupt me again, yell at me again, or threaten me again. You will take the spell off your daughters so that they can speak like individuals—”
“If I do that, they won’t be Interim Fates,” Zeus said.
“That’s an interruption,” Megan said. “It’s your last warning.”
“Or what, puny Empath?”
“Or I will throw you out of here,” Megan said, not sure how she’d accomplish that. “And you’ll lose any chance you might have to work with your daughters.”
He closed his mouth. He glared. Lightning bolts actually appeared in his eyes, but didn’t shoot out of them (even though the girls did duck again).
Then the bolts faded, and he nodded, once, as if it hurt.
Megan took a deep breath. “You will take the spell off your daughters, who will then be able to speak like normal people. Each girl will get the floor to express her grievances. No one may interrupt her. You must listen, no eye-rolling, no faces, and no lightning bolts. Can you follow these rules?”
Zeus’ lower lip came out. He looked petulant. “I guess.”
“Yes or no,” Megan said. “You cannot act like a child here, I won’t allow it. You’re an adult, and have been—well, a lot longer than the rest of us here. You will act like it. Can you follow these rules?”
Zeus’ lip went back in. His eyes narrowed. “Yeah.”
“All right then,” Megan said, her stomach in knots. She made herself look at the girls. “Who wants to go first?”
Forty-three
To Megan’s surprise, she wasn’t frightened of the most powerful man in the magical world. He had her in some kind of spell and had moved her from the casino (for which she felt a little too much relief, considering how much danger it probably put Rob in) to somewhere else.
It felt like they were suspended in time. And then they landed. They didn’t end up in some giant Greek coliseum or even in the smelly library, but in her office. It was after hours, and the place had a dry, unused smell, even though she’d only been gone for a day or two.
Lights were on that should have been off, and the door to her therapy room was open. Zeus strode across the carpeted floor like he owned the place.
She certainly didn’t want him in that room—it was a safe room, a place where her clients felt comfortable to say anything they wanted, and even though she was closing it down, she didn’t want him violating it.
“Daddy, jeez!”
“Oh, man!”
“This just blows.”
Megan felt stunned. She recognized those voices. The Interim Fates. Why were they here and not in their library, attempting to govern the world?
She peered in the doorway. There they were, all three girls, sitting on her extra-long couch. Brittany clutched a Raggedy Anne doll that Megan used for the younger patients. Crystal was examining a naked Barbie. And Tiffany had both hands clenched into fists. She was glaring—at Megan.
“It’s about time,” Brittany said.
“We’ve been waiting, like, forever,” Crystal said.
“You promised you could help us,” Tiffany snapped, “and then you bring him.”
Well, this situation was out of control. These girls were furious and terrified, and Zeus wasn’t exactly calm. He stood just inside the door, his hands at his sides, watching his daughters as if he’d never seen them before.
Megan stepped inside the room. They all had more magic than she did—that was the risk—but this was her place, the place where she confronted people who always had more something than she did—whether it was real power or real money or real chutzpah.
Actually, she usually had the most of that, and she was going to use it now.
“I didn’t bring him,” Megan said. “He brought me.”
“Grrrr-ate,” Brittany said.
“You’re right,” Crystal said to Tiffany. “This blows.”
“You were supposed to be here,” Tiffany said, ignoring the others.
“Well, no,” Megan said. “I’m supposed to be baby-sitting my nephew.”
“In a casino?” Even Zeus sounded shocked, although why should he? This was a man who had more love affairs than anyone else in any mythology, a man who carelessly abandoned children, after, of course, fathering more of them than any other so-called god she could think of. Why would he care if a child was in a casino?
She didn’t answer him. She wasn’t going to let him distract her from the girls, who had come to her for help.
(Not that she was really in a position to give it, given that she had just been kidnapped herself. But no matter, Zeus had brought her here for a reason, and she would figure out what that reason was.)
“I was in Las Vegas,” Megan said to the girls.
“Isn’t this Las Vegas?” Brittany said.
“It’s Las something-or-other,” Crystal said.
“It’s Los Angeles,” Megan said gently.
“You guys screwed up again!” Tiffany snapped. “You said you could handle this one. You said it was a simple spell. I trusted you.”
The infighting was coming from the fear and the stress. The levels in the room had risen to unbearable. Megan walked in farther and went to her chair. She realized now that she had protected it, made it slightly walled so that she could feel emotions when she sat in it but they didn’t become part of her.
Sitting in the chair felt like coming home.
“What spell did you cast?” she asked the first two Interim Fates gently.
“I did it.” Brittany’s voice was filled with tears.
“She said to come to you so you could help us,” Crystal said.
And this was where Megan helped people. So that made sense. These poor girls. They were so out of their element.
“And it didn’t work!” Tiffany snapped.
“Actually, it did,” Megan said, keeping her voice level. It was Zeus that made her nervous, still standing by the door. “I’m here now.”
“And you’re going to help me,” Zeus said. “These girls have to get back to work. It took me forever to find them.”
Megan raised her head and looked at him. She couldn’t think of him as the head of the Powers That Be. She couldn’t think of him as the man with the power to destroy true love forever.
She had to think of him as an abusive, out-of-control father, who had no idea what he was doing to his daughters.
“Thank you for bringing me to them,” she said. “You can wait outside.”
Zeus drew himself to his full height—or maybe more than his full height—and yelled, “I DO NOT WAIT OUTSIDE. WE SHALL RESOLVE THIS HERE.”
That wasn’t really a yel
l. It was more like a decree from on high. The girls cowered on the couch. But Megan didn’t move. She could feel the impotent anger behind Zeus’ shout.
“‘We’ won’t do anything if you raise your voice at me again. Either speak to me civilly,” Megan said, “or leave.”
The girls gaped at her. Zeus stared at her, clearly stunned.
“I could blind you,” he said in a civil tone.
“Yet, if you do, I’ll continue right along, doing what I do.” Megan hoped her own bravado didn’t show. She told herself that her calm counselor demeanor had gotten her through worse, although she wasn’t sure if that was true.
“Then I’ll turn you into a wolf,” he said.
Megan rolled her eyes. “Are you so old and out of ideas that you’re repeating yourself? First you act as if I’m Lycurgus, and then you treat me like Lycaon. For the record, I would never serve you human flesh for dinner.”
The girls’ eyes were wide. Zeus’ were wider.
Megan smiled serenely. “I had a classical education. If you want to threaten me, come up with something new.”
Zeus opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
She had unnerved him after all.
“All right then,” she said. “You brought me here. You must know that this situation is out of control, and that I can help you.”
“I want you to take back everything you said to my girls.” Finally Zeus found his voice.
“And lie to them? I would never do that. Nor would I manipulate them or use them to my own ends. Like you have. Which, I must say, is disgraceful in a father.”
The girls ducked. Zeus’ cheeks reddened, and Megan did wonder if she was going to end up as a statue or a bear or pushing a rock uphill for all of eternity.
But he didn’t do anything — at least not yet.
“Here are my rules,” Megan said. “I assume you want this dispute with your daughters settled—”
“They ran away,” he said, sounding like a child.
“We escaped,” Brittany said.
“We’re no good at Fating,” Crystal said.
“We’re never going back,” Tiffany said.
“—and,” Megan said to Zeus as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “and I will help you resolve this if and only if you do not interrupt me again, yell at me again, or threaten me again. You will take the spell off your daughters so that they can speak like individuals—”
“If I do that, they won’t be Interim Fates,” Zeus said.
“That’s an interruption,” Megan said. “It’s your last warning.”
“Or what, puny Empath?”
“Or I will throw you out of here,” Megan said, not sure how she’d accomplish that. “And you’ll lose any chance you might have to work with your daughters.”
He closed his mouth. He glared. Lightning bolts actually appeared in his eyes, but didn’t shoot out of them (even though the girls did duck again).
Then the bolts faded, and he nodded, once, as if it hurt.
Megan took a deep breath. “You will take the spell off your daughters, who will then be able to speak like normal people. Each girl will get the floor to express her grievances. No one may interrupt her. You must listen, no eye-rolling, no faces, and no lightning bolts. Can you follow these rules?”
Zeus’ lower lip came out. He looked petulant. “I guess.”
“Yes or no,” Megan said. “You cannot act like a child here, I won’t allow it. You’re an adult, and have been—well, a lot longer than the rest of us here. You will act like it. Can you follow these rules?”
Zeus’ lip went back in. His eyes narrowed. “Yeah.”
“All right then,” Megan said, her stomach in knots. She made herself look at the girls. “Who wants to go first?”
Forty-four
The second Faerie King leapt up from his chair, holding a foil.
He pointed the tip at Rob, and said with a grin, “En garde!”
Robin’s sword should have been able to snap a foil, but he had a hunch it wasn’t going to work that way. So he used the first Faerie King like a shield and responded to the second Faerie King’s en garde with a thrust of his own.
Suddenly he was in an old-fashioned sword fight, the kind that he had privately missed for centuries. The third Faerie King leapt off the platform and engaged John. Travers stood back, looking at his blade as if it could bite him.
“Remember Marian?” Rob yelled at John.
“What?” John yelled back.
The first Faerie King struggled, but Rob had him around the throat. This wasn’t going to last long, especially if the guy used magic on him.
“Remember the rescue?” Rob slapped his blade at the foil. They clanged, but the foil didn’t collapse. “The first one?”
“What?” John yelled back.
“He said remember the first rescue of Marian,” Travers yelled.
John’s Faerie King had him backed against the platform.
“Are you nuts?” John asked.
“No, dammit,” Rob yelled. His breath was coming in large gasps. “I’m trying to tell you something.”
About how he had created a diversion while John and the Merry Men rescued Marian from the clutches of the sheriff—the first time. Other times, the situation had been reversed.
That woman had had a gift for getting herself captured.
John flipped the third Faerie King around, and slapped him on the back with the flat of his blade. The Faerie King gasped as if he had lost air.
“Oh,” John said. “Right.”
The second Faerie King thrust at Rob. Rob parried and turned at the same time, so the point of the foil nearly stabbed the first Faerie King.
“Do that!” Rob said.
“There’s only two of us,” John said, as the third Faerie King turned around again, his blade now a broadsword. Travers still hadn’t done anything. “Make that one and a half.”
The first Faerie King was still struggling. Sweat was running down Robin’s face. He was lucky that the second king was more interested in traditional fencing than in an actual sword fight.
“So?” Robin said. “Just do it.”
“Now he’s quoting Nike slogans at me,” John muttered, but he shoved the third Faerie King at the second, and both Faeries went tumbling. “Get up here, Travers!”
Travers didn’t have to be told twice. He jumped on the platform.
The first Faerie King shook loose of Robin. The other two started to get up.
“And throw me your blade!” Robin yelled at Travers.
“Okay.” Travers looked terrified. His throw was awful, but Robin managed to catch it.
Now he stood in the center of the Faerie Circle, two swords in hand, one Faerie King facing him, and two more about to join the fray. He needed more help. He needed extra power. He needed—
He looked at the wheel. Travers had said it could boost his magic. It was worth a try.
John was behind the wheel trying to pry it loose. Travers was standing next to him, looking as helpless as a regular mortal.
Robin pointed his blade at the thing, and summoned power to him.
A beam of light crackled against the black casino ceiling, then floated down, hit the sword, jumped to the other sword, and sent power through him like an out-of-control electrical current.
His teeth chattered and his head rattled and he couldn’t see a damn thing. He smelled smoke, and heard a ka-pow before something blasted him across the room.
When he opened his eyes, he was at the far end of the Faerie Circle, the swords glued to his hands. He couldn’t see the wheel anymore, but all three Faerie Kings were advancing on him—
And he wasn’t even sure he could stand up.
Forty-four
The second Faerie King leapt up from his chair, holding a foil.
He pointed the tip at Rob, and said with a grin, “En garde!”
Robin’s sword should have been able to snap a foil, but he had a hunch it wasn’t going to work that way.
So he used the first Faerie King like a shield and responded to the second Faerie King’s en garde with a thrust of his own.
Suddenly he was in an old-fashioned sword fight, the kind that he had privately missed for centuries. The third Faerie King leapt off the platform and engaged John. Travers stood back, looking at his blade as if it could bite him.
“Remember Marian?” Rob yelled at John.
“What?” John yelled back.
The first Faerie King struggled, but Rob had him around the throat. This wasn’t going to last long, especially if the guy used magic on him.
“Remember the rescue?” Rob slapped his blade at the foil. They clanged, but the foil didn’t collapse. “The first one?”
“What?” John yelled back.
“He said remember the first rescue of Marian,” Travers yelled.
John’s Faerie King had him backed against the platform.
“Are you nuts?” John asked.
“No, dammit,” Rob yelled. His breath was coming in large gasps. “I’m trying to tell you something.”
About how he had created a diversion while John and the Merry Men rescued Marian from the clutches of the sheriff—the first time. Other times, the situation had been reversed.
That woman had had a gift for getting herself captured.
John flipped the third Faerie King around, and slapped him on the back with the flat of his blade. The Faerie King gasped as if he had lost air.
“Oh,” John said. “Right.”
The second Faerie King thrust at Rob. Rob parried and turned at the same time, so the point of the foil nearly stabbed the first Faerie King.
“Do that!” Rob said.
“There’s only two of us,” John said, as the third Faerie King turned around again, his blade now a broadsword. Travers still hadn’t done anything. “Make that one and a half.”
The first Faerie King was still struggling. Sweat was running down Robin’s face. He was lucky that the second king was more interested in traditional fencing than in an actual sword fight.
“So?” Robin said. “Just do it.”
Fates 06 - Totally Spellbound Page 51