by Peter David
Arthur sensed the unspoken but hanging in the air, and voiced it. "But...?"
"But at the moment-only at the moment, mind you-"
"Out with it, Ronnie."
"Bittberg'sinthelead."
It's going to be close," said Morgan. "Make no mistake, little queen. It will be close. But Arthur shall lose."
Gwen's eyes never left Morgan. The sorceress had not moved from the spot where Gwen had first seen her. But Lance, dressed like something out of the Road Warrior, was already starting to creep in her direction. "You're wrong, Morgan. You're going to lose. Everything."
"My, oh my." Morgan looked down her nose at Gwen. "The little queen has become quite the bold one. I haven't forgiven you, you know, for that attack in the park." Her fingers drifted to her cheek.
"I figured you wouldn't. I banked on that being my eventual ticket here." Her gaze and the point of her knife momentarily flicked in the direction of Lance, who froze. "Don't try it, Lance.
I swear Til kill you."
"Why, Gwen," said Morgan. "You're positively a woman warrior, aren't you?"
"Not a wimp?" Gwen replied. "You don't understand, do you, Morgan. All my life I felt like a nothing. Like everyone always stepped on me. Then along came Arthur, and he made me feel like someone. And now I've lost him. Lost him thanks to you. Without Arthur I don't care what happens to mt. I don't care if I live or die. And when you stop caring, it means you can become reckless. That, and I've been using my brains a bit. I've watched what happens. I'm figuring out the limits of your power."
"Are you now?"
Lance was creeping up on Gwen's right. Taking small, careful steps, Gwen sidled to her left, keeping a large table between herself and Lance. Still she continued to watch Morgan, Morgan the unmoving. "Yes. For example, I've figured out that when you are attacked mystically, you defend and counterattack mystically. But when you're attacked physically, the only way to ward it off is by physical means. That's why they burned witches, isn't it?"
"Hanging was also popular," said Morgan dryly.
"That's why that demon could take Merlin with his bare hands. That is why I could take you in the park. And that is why," and her voice rose suddenly, "I'm going to take you now!"
She drew her hand back, the skull-shaped dagger in her hand now held by the point, and she hurled the dagger straight at Morgan's chest. The dagger flew unerringly and plunged deep into Morgan's breast, piercing her evil heart and putting an end to her forever.
At least that's what Gwen had hoped would happen.
Actually she missed by a country mile. The dagger, weighted completely improperly for throwing, spun erratically in its flight and hit the wall behind Morgan a good three feet to her right. It thudded to the ground, way out of Gwen's reach.
"Uh-oh," muttered Gwen.
Morgan raised her hand. "Oh, little queen," she said, "you who are not afraid to die. Who are reckless. I'm going to show you that there are worse things than death. Now ..."
Back at the Roosevelt Hotel Arthur was watching the set intensely now. A mask of gloom had spread over his face. "I don't understand," he murmured. "Don't they know what's best for them? Look at that."
At that moment, with two percent of the voting in, Bittberg was at forty-six percent and Arthur was at forty-two percent with Archibald Goodwin and all the others left far behind. The newscasters were already intimating that Bernard Bittberg was the new mayor of New York City.
The phone rang. Arthur leaned over and picked it up while the others in the suite looked on.
"Yes?" said Arthur.
"Bernie Bittberg here, Art!" said Bittberg on the other end. Audible over the phone were noisemakers, party music, and the like. Bittberg was shouting to be heard. "Ready to concede yet?"
"Concede?"
"Yeah. You know, quit. There's no need to be a sore loser, Art."
"I wouldn't know," said Arthur evenly. "I don't make a habit of losing."
He dropped the phone back into the cradle.
But he was not happy. Not happy at all.
It happened with incredible swiftness.
Gwen pivoted and leaped in the direction of Lance Benson.
Lance, thinking she was trying to escape, shouted, "Don't worry, Morgan! I got her!" And so saying, he grabbed for Gwen. He got a grip on her shoulders and made as if to hold her in place. It looked to all intents and purposes that he had a really solid grasp on her.
Morgan's hands were glowing. The power of the spell was already in existence, and once called into the world, the power had to be unleashed lest it backlash against the wielder.
Morgan passed her hands through the air, the gestures shaping the nature of the spelt, and the power was aimed right at Gwen.
At the last second Gwen suddenly twisted away from Lance, breaking his grip easily, fear pumping adrenaline through her body. She dropped to the ground, shielding her eyes.
Lance only had the chance to open his mouth and start to frame a question before he was bathed in the light of the spell. There was a sudden sound, like a vacuum being sucked into a bottle instead of being allowed out. One instant Lance was there, the next he wasn't.
Actually, that was not quite true. There was a large, gray rodent skittering around on the floor, squeaking angrily.
Morgan looked down in dismay. She said, "Rats."
Her smoldering eyes turned to Gwen, and without saying another word, she gestured and a blast of eldritch energy blew from her hand. Gwen leaped out of the way, sure-footed in her black tennis sneakers. She felt the air sizzle around her, and looked around. Where the energy bolt had missed her, several large pillows and a good chunk of the floor were gone.
Her heart pounding like a trip-hammer, Gwen moved quickly in Merlin's direction, praying that somehow the trapped magician would be able to aid her. She reached the crystal column and clung to it like a life preserver, looking defiantly at Morgan.
"You think he can help you?" said Morgan disdainfully. "Don't kid yourself, my queenlette.
But let's fine tune the spell, just for you, to make sure I don't accidentally release the little bastard."
She pointed and a single beam of lambent energy shot forth. Gwen threw her back against the crystal column, and the energy beam passed within a hair's breadth of her breasts.
"You can't win!" crowed Morgan.
"Get stuffed!" Gwen screamed back. She circled behind Merlin's prison, keeping the crystal column between the two of them. She felt terrible about putting Merlin in the middle of all this, yet what choice did she have? But she couldn't keep it up all day___
Her hand trailed over the small bulge in her hip pocket, and she remembered what the demon had said. It was worth a try, because she sure as hell couldn't keep dodging all night.
Morgan advanced on her slowly. "Come out, little queen. I promise you it will be painless...."
"Everyone is so concerned about my welfare," muttered Gwen.
Compact firmly in hand, Gwen suddenly leaped out from behind Merlin. Morgan shouted her triumph and let fly a bolt of energy.
Gwen flipped open the compact and held it between her and Morgan. The pencil-thin beam of light hit the mirror and bounced off. Gwen had hoped that it would bounce back and hit Morgan herself. Instead the beam shot off to the left and struck the crystal column in which Merlin was trapped.
"No!" screamed Morgan, but it was too late. Like a laser cracking a diamond, the spell of disintegration pierced the crystal. A weblike pattern of lines appeared on the crystal surface, and Merlin's small body began to glow with power. Again Morgan cried "No!" but that was a split second before the crystal shattered into a million shards. Gwen shielded her eyes, but miraculously, or perhaps magically, not so much as a single piece cut her. Morgan, on the other hand, was unable to fend off what seemed like thousands of angry hornets ripping at her. She went down, pieces of crystal embedded in her dress and skin.
Merlin stood there. His eyes were smoldering with anger and power. His fists were clenched
and glowing. "Morgan," he said in a dangerous voice, "you've kept bound forces with which you should not have tampered."
"You little fiend!" Morgan cried. "That's the second time you've done that. First you nearly get me cut to ribbons with my own television set, and now this. Well no more, I tell you. No more!"
Her body glowed. "You're in my place now, Merlin! You cannot win!"
"Gwen! Behind me!" ordered Merlin. Gwen barely had time to comply before Morgan's mystical attack was launched.
"And in a sudden reversal," the newscaster was saying, "returns from the upper Manhattan voting districts have tilted the balloting more toward Arthur Penn...."
Arthur, up in his suite, could swear that he heard a roar of approval go up from the gathering room downstairs. He smiled as the newscaster said, "Once again this race has become so close that it has become impossible to call."
"Gentlemen," said Percy, "it looks like we're going to be putting in a long night."
Merlin had erected his mystical defenses barely in time. A sphere of pure energy surrounded Merlin and Gwen as Morgan's powerful spells bounced off the shields. Pillows imploded into nothingness. Walls began to melt into puddles. And Morgan's wrath grew.
Merlin, his face frozen in concentration, worked on maintaining the shields that were preserving their lives. Gwen crawled to him and demanded, "Now what?"
"You're asking me?" said Merlin desperately. "You're the one who came to the rescue. I assumed you'd figured a way out."
"I did," said Gwen. "You're it."
"Wonderful," replied Merlin.
Energy cascaded around them, dancing in little sparks. "I can't hold her back much longer,"
grated Merlin. "I'm too weak. I've been cooped up for too long."
"Then what are we going to do?"
"Will you stop asking me that?"
"All right," said Gwen angrily. "All right!" She started to stand. "Cover me."
Merlin looked at her, aghast. "What do you think this is, Gunfight at the OK Corrall What do you mean, cover you?"
"I'm going to get her."
"You're insane! There are forces being unleashed here you know nothing about."
"Good," said Gwen. "If I knew about them, I'd probably be more terrified than I am right now.
See you next lifetime, Merlin."
"Gwen-"
Gwen DeVere leaped out from behind the protection of Merlin's shields. She rolled across the smoldering carpet as Morgan, blind with fury, directed her attack at Gwen's quick-moving form. Gwen, heart pounding with excitement, mind racing thanks to the uppers, moved with a speed that defied description. And Morgan, caught up in her anger, used her power wildly, recklessly. She did not take time to aim, or plan, or think. She was reacting on the most primal level-utter rage. Gwen broke right, broke left, leaped forward, then pivoted and dodged again to the right. Explosions of primal force bracketed her. A chunk of floor tilted wildly under her and she jumped off it, rolling that much closer to Morgan.
A sudden instinct warned her, and she ducked to one side as a huge piece of plaster from the ceiling fell and shattered right where she'd been.
Morgan was grinning wildly. "You're going to die, Guinevere, you slut!" she shrieked. "My brother's whore! There'll be less than nothing left of you when I'm through."
Still two yards away, Gwen grated, "All talking, bitch queen, but no action. Hiding behind your spells and your pretty lights! When it comes down to the crunch, you just don't have what it takes."
"You . . . you ..." Raw energy flew between Morgan's palms and arced outward at Gwen. She leaped in the one direction Morgan had not anticipated-straight at her. Gwen came in low in a flying tackle, her arms wrapped around Morgan's legs, and the two of them went down in a tumble of arms and legs.
Merlin shouted from across the room, "Gwen! Don't look in her eyes! Not at such close quarters!" And Gwen, hearing his words, shut her eyes tightly, even as she and Morgan rolled, struggling hand to hand.
Then Gwen was on*her back, Morgan straddling her. There was a triumphant gleam in Morgan's eyes that Gwen didn't see. "I don't need my magic to finish you, little queen." She brought her hand down, open, slapping it across Gwen's cheek. "That's just the beginning of paying you back for what you've done to me."
The pain raced through Gwen's face even as she brought her legs up from behind and wrapped her knees around Morgan's neck. The sorceress gagged, gasping for air, as Gwen turned and slammed her down on the ground. The impact stunned Morgan momentarily, and also caused Gwen to involuntarily open her eyes. Her gaze fell on the skull-headed knife with which she had missed her mark earlier. It was just out of her reach.
Quick as lightning she released her hold on Morgan and hurled herself at the knife. Her desperate fingers curled around the hilt, and before Morgan could regain her senses, Gwen had thrown herself across Morgan's prostrate form.
She held the knife over Morgan's rapidly rising breasts.
"Finish her!" shouted Merlin.
Morgan, petrified, made no move. Her gaze shifted from the knife to Gwen, but Gwen was careful not to look at her directly. Her entire concentration was on the point of the knife, poised directly over her fallen foe's heart. Gwen's hand trembled. She bit her lip.
"Dammit, woman! What are you waiting for? Kill her!" Merlin screamed.
"I-" Gwen half sobbed, exhaustion overtaking her. "I can't! I can't just kill someone. We've beaten her. Isn't that enough?"
The air crackled around them. Gwen's head flew back, her mouth open in a silent scream. And then, like a marionette, Gwen was hurled back, soaring through the air, her body twisted. She hit a wall with a sickening crunch and slid to the floor like a broken doll. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of her mouth. She did not move again.
"No," said Morgan, getting slowly to her feet. "It wasn't enough, little queen. Not nearly enough.''
Arthur was in the men's room. Percy watched dismally as the latest tallies were reported. He turned to Ronnie, Groucho, and Chico and said simply, "The gap is widening. We may lose her.''
Morgan started to laugh. She tilted her head back, her mouth opened wide, and she started to laugh. Then a mystic bolt hit her with full impact. Her instincts warned her barely in time to raise a most minimal shield. She fell back, terror in her eyes.
Merlin was standing there. His fists were glowing, smoke rising from them. His eyes were little more than white, pupil-less spots with energy crackling from them. Lance the Rat cowered in a corner.
"All right, Morgan." The voice of an old man rose from the throat of a young boy. "This ends here. Now."
The air exploded.
Ed Shukin on WNYW looked surprised. "And with new returns coming in, we see another swing in the direction of Arthur Penn. With ten percent of the votes tallied, it now appears that the Independent candidate and Bernard Bittberg, the Democratic candidate, are even at forty-six percent each. To be honest, I have covered many a political race and I cannot recall in recent history one that seesawed quite as much as this one has. But I would have to say that, at this point, it is far too early to call Arthur Penn out of the race."
Arthur stood up and slapped his knees. "I'm going downstairs."
"But Arthur-"
"Protocol be damned, Percy," said Arthur good-naturedly. "Those are my people down there. We started this together and by Uther we're going to finish it together. All of us."
"Not all of us," Chico piped up. "Where's Gwen?" "Yeah. And the kid?" added Groucho.
Arthur sighed. "I'm quite certain," he said, "that if they could be here, they would."
Time lost its meaning, warped and twisted back on itself as the battle raged between Morgan and Merlin.
Neighbors of Morgan's in Verona looked out their windows, turning from their televisions in shock as unleashed elemental forces erupted from the old house. The ground started to rumble, narrow crevices opening in the weed-covered grounds. Windows glowed with wild, unearthly fires. And those who were of a more imaginative
bent thought that bizarre black shapes, twisted and reeking of evil, emerged from the cracks and sideboards, from the chimney and the gutters, dissipating into the rainy night-dozens of them, creatures that had been Morgan's slaves, on whose energy Morgan had fed. Poltergeists, near-formless creatures that on their own created minor mischief but which, under the control of a master necromancer, could alter probabilities on a wide scale -and even effect election returns-vanished into the night. Morgan's control of them slipped through her fingers as she utilized every iota of mystical energy she possessed in her battle against Merlin.
Arcane shields hovered before her, cracking and splintering. She blocked Merlin's thrusts the way a fencer would, but more and more began to slip through. She began to weaken mystically. Her energy slipped away from her. Only her hate grew and grew, but hate is destructive force rather than constructive.
Merlin advanced on her, his face set. Morgan battered at his defenses, but he had had time to recuperate. The edge was his, and he was not for one moment permitting Morgan to recapture it. His lips were constantly moving, chanting, invoking the power of the gods, drawing strength from bands of mystic energy that hovered before him.
"Damn you, Merlin Satan-Spawn!" Morgan cried. She raised her hands above her head and abruptly dropped her defenses, pulling all her mystic reserves together. A solid black bolt of power sizzled through the air like a thing alive. And Merlin brushed it aside as if she'd tossed a feather at him. It angled upward, blasting through the roof of the old house. Sparks flew from it as it passed, caught on the shingle roof. The roof began to blaze.
Neighbors on the sidewalk pointed at the fire and hurried to call the fire department.
* 'Merlin.'' Morgan raised a hand. "We could rule together- "
"Go to hell," said Merlin. His hands formed the horns of Satan, and eldritch power flowed from them. Morgan hastily tried to create more shields, but Merlin's spell passed through them as if they were not there. The power surrounded Morgan, bathing her in an unearthly light, and she clenched her fists, beating at air as she screamed her fury. "You haven't won yet! I still hate!"
Her body turned black, then pale blue. And then, with a rush of air, Morgan's body exploded outward.