“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-five
The light was a great distraction, but John wasn’t about to touch that spinning wheel when power was flowing off it like a river. Still, he got behind the thing, figured out how to lift it, and beckoned Travers.
Travers came around, his skin so white he looked translucent. “Shouldn’t we help Rob?”
“Rob’s been in worse situations,” John said, not sure if that was true. “We’re carrying this puppy outta here.”
“Carrying?” Travers asked.
“Shut up and help,” John said.
Something ka-boomed, and the entire Faerie Circle went dark for an instant. John lifted the wheel—it was lighter than he imagined—and glanced up.
“Is that out of the hole it was in?”
“Yeah,” Travers said.
“Well, get us out of here.”
Travers flung his arms around the wheel and John, and suddenly they were floating upward. John did not want to be floating. He wanted to disappear and appear, but that wasn’t possible from Faerie, so he preferred to be zooming. He added some of his own power—or maybe some of the wheel’s power—and headed toward the surface.
They shot through the ground like a rocket, coming up through a sewer grate on Las Vegas boulevard, startling dozens of drivers and causing a near-pileup.
John saw no reason to stop zooming, and headed immediately to the hotel. Travers was protesting, but John couldn’t hear him.
Or maybe John didn’t want to hear him.
They zoomed through the front doors—Travers remembered to open them, somehow and up the stairs and through (whoops! No one opened that) the door of the suite and into the room with the kid and the Fates and Zoe Sinclair.
Everyone turned to greet them.
John landed beside the kid’s chair, and bowed, then handed the giant (but light) spinning wheel to the Fates.
And as he stood, he realized they looked disappointed.
Forty-five
The light was a great distraction, but John wasn’t about to touch that spinning wheel when power was flowing off it like a river. Still, he got behind the thing, figured out how to lift it, and beckoned Travers.
Travers came around, his skin so white he looked translucent. “Shouldn’t we help Rob?”
“Rob’s been in worse situations,” John said, not sure if that was true. “We’re carrying this puppy outta here.”
“Carrying?” Travers asked.
“Shut up and help,” John said.
Something ka-boomed, and the entire Faerie Circle went dark for an instant. John lifted the wheel—it was lighter than he imagined—and glanced up.
“Is that out of the hole it was in?”
“Yeah,” Travers said.
“Well, get us out of here.”
Travers flung his arms around the wheel and John, and suddenly they were floating upward. John did not want to be floating. He wanted to disappear and appear, but that wasn’t possible from Faerie, so he preferred to be zooming. He added some of his own power—or maybe some of the wheel’s power—and headed toward the surface.
They shot through the ground like a rocket, coming up through a sewer grate on Las Vegas boulevard, startling dozens of drivers and causing a near-pileup.
John saw no reason to stop zooming, and headed immediately to the hotel. Travers was protesting, but John couldn’t hear him.
Or maybe John didn’t want to hear him.
They zoomed through the front doors—Travers remembered to open them, somehow and up the stairs and through (whoops! No one opened that) the door of the suite and into the room with the kid and the Fates and Zoe Sinclair.
Everyone turned to greet them.
John landed beside the kid’s chair, and bowed, then handed the giant (but light) spinning wheel to the Fates.
And as he stood, he realized they looked disappointed.
Forty-six
Rob wasn’t sure how long he was going to hold out. Two swords—stuck to his hands no less—against three Faerie Kings were not good odds, no matter how much the stupid wheel had enhanced his powers.
All three kings had foils. They were using them the way the Fates talked—the first Faerie King thrust first, followed by the second, followed by the third. Which made fighting them easier than it should have been, but Robin expected a group of Faeries to run into this part of the casino at any moment.
So far they hadn’t.
So far, Megan had held them off.
He hoped she was all right.
Yeouch!
The first Faerie King had made contact. Rob looked down at his arm, saw a scratch with blood starting to leak out of it, and every single fairy tale he’d ever read came back to him. Something in the blade would weaken him, take his magic—hurt him somehow.
The kings had stopped, too, staring at the blood as if they were surprised.
Then the second Faerie King stepped forward, thrusting with his blade, and Robin parried with his left hand. He should have parried with his right because the third Faerie King came from the far left side, and was about to hit Rob’s skin when—
Rob blanked out.
Actually, he suddenly went to a complete white environment and then landed, as if he’d been dropped from a great height, on the floor of the suite.
The landing knocked the air out of him, but he probably would have lost the air anyway. The Fates stood above him, looking taller than he remembered. Taller, and prettier, and bigger somehow.
The spinning wheel, set on its legs properly, stood behind them, and even farther behind them, a television screen showed hundreds (thousands?) of Faeries pressing against each other in the casino parking lot.
Poor Megan.
Rob tried to sit up, but couldn’t. The dang swords were still fused to his hands, and they flopped around like solid shirt sleeves.
“Can someone help me?”
The kid reached down, saw the swords, and looked at the Fates. Clotho smiled, Lachesis pointed, and Atropos touched the top of his hand.
The swords fell away.
“Got your magic back, I see.” Rob looked at his hands. No damage, no danger. So far.
“Thank you,” Clotho said, much more primly than he would have expected.
“They’re annoyed at us,” John said.
“Why?” Rob stood up. He was dizzy. Travers stood near an empty chair. Had Zoe gone for Megan? Rob hoped so. He would ask in a moment.
“Apparentl
y, we were supposed to bring the Faerie Kings along with the wheel,” John said.
“Why?” Rob asked, putting a hand to his forehead. All that had taken a lot more energy than he expected.
“Something about destiny,” Travers said.
Rob looked at him, forced himself to focus, and asked, “Did Zoe go for Meg?”
“Yep,” Travers glanced at the screen. There seemed to be even more Faeries than there had been before. “And I hope she gets back soon. It’s looking bad there.”
Worse than Rob had expected. He wondered if he should go help. He rubbed his forehead. He hadn’t been this tired from magic use in—he had no idea how long. He probably should call Felix, his falcon, and use the strength of his familiar to make himself feel better before he went for Megan, but he wasn’t sure he had that kind of time.
“You okay?” Kyle asked him. The boy was still sitting in that chair he’d insisted upon. He looked a little peaked too.
“Yeah,” Rob said.
And then Zoe popped into the room. Her hair was mussed and her shirt had a rip on one sleeve.
“What happened?” Travers asked.
But Zoe didn’t look at him. Her gaze met Rob’s and it was filled with panic.
“Megan,” she said, “is gone.”
Rob felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He’d been afraid of this from the moment he met her. Losing her was worse than never meeting her at all.
“Gone?” he repeated. Then he looked at the screen. The Faeries still crowded the door of the casino as if they were trying to get in. “But what’s that?”
“There’s a mannequin, a diversion. It’s chock full of emotion, and looks just like Megan. I can’t imagine who would have the power to do that, but whoever it was got in and out without anyone noticing.” Zoe tugged on that ripped shirt, ripping it further. She grabbed the tear, and absently repaired it with a tiny magic.
“Let me see,” Lachesis said, and waved an arm at the screen.
The view changed from the parking lot to the interior of the casino. In a dark and ratty seeming buffet, a woman sat at a table, looking cool and collected. Hundreds of Faeries pushed toward her, creating little eddies in the sea of bodies.
Megan would never have been that calm in that place. She would have tried hard, but she wouldn’t have succeeded.
The Fates crowded against the screen, peering at it.
“I thought you were supposed to track her,” Travers said to Kyle.
“I don’t track, Dad. She was supposed to contact me if she got in trouble.” And then he gasped on the last word.
Rob whirled. The boy was pale.
“She did contact you,” Rob said.
The boy shook his head. “But there was a weird feeling, like scaredness or something and then everything went okay.”
“Before she disappeared,” Zoe said.
Kyle sniffled. “I didn’t mean to lose her. I was really trying…”
And it was John who put a comforting hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Of course you were, kid. They asked the impossible of you. We’ll find her.”
“We can trace her,” Atropos said.
“But we’re not going to like what we find,” Clotho added.
Rob’s stomach flipped. His headache had gotten worse. “Why not?”
“Because,” Lachesis said, her green gaze meeting his. “She was taken by Zeus.”
Rob didn’t wait for the others. He zapped himself to the casino, not caring if his magic broadcast to every Faerie in receiving range. Besides, every Faerie in receiving range was here, trying to get near the tower of emotion that Zeus had left in place of Megan.
Rob landed on the table in front of her, startling several Faeries, one of whom shoved him, and told him it wasn’t his turn. That was when he remembered that he still looked like them. He was tempted to undo Zoe’s spell, but he didn’t have time.
He had to find Megan. He frowned at the mannequin in front of him.
The likeness wasn’t very good. The face was waxy and the eyes were empty. They blinked much too slowly, which was the only sign of life, such as it were. Her breasts were too big (what a Zeusian touch!), her shoulders too narrow, and her spine too straight. Megan hadn’t sat up straight since Rob had met her.
And even he could sense the emotion coming off this thing. It wasn’t one type of emotion either. The thing was broadcasting emotions like some kind of signal, probably to draw Faeries.
He used a magic he hadn’t tried in ages. He touched the thing’s shoulder, startled that it was as hard as steel. The skin was cold, too, although the Faeries weren’t noticing.
Under his breath, he recited a spell that would take him to the creature’s maker, and only as he was hurtling down a magical line, did he realize that he might have used the wrong spell.
If Zeus hadn’t created this thing, just borrowed it or “improved” it, then Rob was going the wrong way.
And wasting even more time.
Of course, he wasn’t sure what he’d do when he found Megan.
How did one simple mage take on the greatest of the Powers That Be?
Forty-six
Rob wasn’t sure how long he was going to hold out. Two swords—stuck to his hands no less—against three Faerie Kings were not good odds, no matter how much the stupid wheel had enhanced his powers.
All three kings had foils. They were using them the way the Fates talked—the first Faerie King thrust first, followed by the second, followed by the third. Which made fighting them easier than it should have been, but Robin expected a group of Faeries to run into this part of the casino at any moment.
So far they hadn’t.
So far, Megan had held them off.
He hoped she was all right.
Yeouch!
The first Faerie King had made contact. Rob looked down at his arm, saw a scratch with blood starting to leak out of it, and every single fairy tale he’d ever read came back to him. Something in the blade would weaken him, take his magic—hurt him somehow.
The kings had stopped, too, staring at the blood as if they were surprised.
Then the second Faerie King stepped forward, thrusting with his blade, and Robin parried with his left hand. He should have parried with his right because the third Faerie King came from the far left side, and was about to hit Rob’s skin when—
Rob blanked out.
Actually, he suddenly went to a complete white environment and then landed, as if he’d been dropped from a great height, on the floor of the suite.
The landing knocked the air out of him, but he probably would have lost the air anyway. The Fates stood above him, looking taller than he remembered. Taller, and prettier, and bigger somehow.
The spinning wheel, set on its legs properly, stood behind them, and even farther behind them, a television screen showed hundreds (thousands?) of Faeries pressing against each other in the casino parking lot.
Poor Megan.
Rob tried to sit up, but couldn’t. The dang swords were still fused to his hands, and they flopped around like solid shirt sleeves.
“Can someone help me?”
The kid reached down, saw the swords, and looked at the Fates. Clotho smiled, Lachesis pointed, and Atropos touched the top of his hand.
The swords fell away.
“Got your magic back, I see.” Rob looked at his hands. No damage, no danger. So far.
“Thank you,” Clotho said, much more primly than he would have expected.
“They’re annoyed at us,” John said.
“Why?” Rob stood up. He was dizzy. Travers stood near an empty chair. Had Zoe gone for Megan? Rob hoped so. He would ask in a moment.
“Apparently, we were supposed to bring the Faerie Kings along with the wheel,” John said.
“Why?” Rob asked, putting a hand to his forehead. All that had taken a lot more energy than he expected.
“Something about destiny,” Travers said.
Rob looked at him, forced himself to focus, an
d asked, “Did Zoe go for Meg?”
“Yep,” Travers glanced at the screen. There seemed to be even more Faeries than there had been before. “And I hope she gets back soon. It’s looking bad there.”
Worse than Rob had expected. He wondered if he should go help. He rubbed his forehead. He hadn’t been this tired from magic use in—he had no idea how long. He probably should call Felix, his falcon, and use the strength of his familiar to make himself feel better before he went for Megan, but he wasn’t sure he had that kind of time.
“You okay?” Kyle asked him. The boy was still sitting in that chair he’d insisted upon. He looked a little peaked too.
“Yeah,” Rob said.
And then Zoe popped into the room. Her hair was mussed and her shirt had a rip on one sleeve.
“What happened?” Travers asked.
But Zoe didn’t look at him. Her gaze met Rob’s and it was filled with panic.
“Megan,” she said, “is gone.”
Rob felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He’d been afraid of this from the moment he met her. Losing her was worse than never meeting her at all.
“Gone?” he repeated. Then he looked at the screen. The Faeries still crowded the door of the casino as if they were trying to get in. “But what’s that?”
“There’s a mannequin, a diversion. It’s chock full of emotion, and looks just like Megan. I can’t imagine who would have the power to do that, but whoever it was got in and out without anyone noticing.” Zoe tugged on that ripped shirt, ripping it further. She grabbed the tear, and absently repaired it with a tiny magic.
“Let me see,” Lachesis said, and waved an arm at the screen.
The view changed from the parking lot to the interior of the casino. In a dark and ratty seeming buffet, a woman sat at a table, looking cool and collected. Hundreds of Faeries pushed toward her, creating little eddies in the sea of bodies.
Megan would never have been that calm in that place. She would have tried hard, but she wouldn’t have succeeded.
The Fates crowded against the screen, peering at it.
Fates 06 - Totally Spellbound Page 52