by Phil Gabriel
This time, she pulled even harder, and motes of kitsune magic flowed around her body and flew down to the spot where her hands met the hilt. All to no avail. The sword would not release from the stone.
She stepped back and bent down, placing both hands on her knees. Between gasps, she said, “Gimme a minute, and I’ll try again.”
Akiko drifted closer. “Maybe it’s a matter of the type of magic,” she said, “and not might.” She touched the hilt of the sword. “Mmm, strange that I can’t phase it. It seems solid no matter what I do.” Grabbing the handle, she tried to pull it out but failed. She drifted back in defeat.
“Maybe it just needs the right person to touch it,” said Lady Jane. “Like the story of King Arthur.” She reached out and grabbed the hilt, putting her foot up on the boulder as Kitty-Sue had. Her robe slid back, revealing her incredibly well-muscled legs, as well as the fact she had not put on any panties.
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t budge the sword.
We all looked at the ground in defeat. Then my iPhone cycled a new tune, The Turtles’ version of “Happy Together.”
Lady Jane looked askance at the iPhone, and said, “Is something wrong with that device?”
“No,” I said. “It’s just Euterpe talking to me.”
“Who’s Euterpe?”
“His imaginary girlfriend,” said Kitty-Sue. “Doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“She’s not imaginary…” I started, then stopped. No use in trying to convince her. “Imaginary or not,” I said, “she comes up with some good ideas.”
“And what’s good about an old sixties’ tune?” asked Kitty-Sue.
I looked at Akiko, who nodded. She knew what Euterpe meant.
“Lady Jane,” Akiko asked, “would you don my ring again?”
Lady Jane looked between Akiko and me, then nodded. “Yes, of course. If it will help.”
She took the ring from Akiko and placed it on her third finger.
Akiko stepped over to Lady Jane and melted into her form. Lady Jane’s eyes closed, and when they opened, they were Akiko’s eyes, framed by her ectoplasmic glasses.
Jane/Akiko stepped to the sword and placed their hands on the hilt. Instead of using muscle or magic, only the lightest pull caused the sword to slide from the stone as if it were being pulled from a scabbard.
They held the sword aloft, this Japanese Excalibur, crafted by a swordsmith/magician of unparalleled skill. Th
e muscles in their arm rippled with inhuman strength. There were glittering ancient kanji characters flowing across the blade, evoking power. A cloud covered the sun, and thunder rumbled.
“Holy shit,” said Kitty-Sue. “That’s cool.”
Then she had a concerned look. “Hmm,” she said, “a ghostly woman magician, possessing a red-haired woman, wielding a sword capable of destroying a fae sword. Do you know what this means?”
“With them on the team, we have a chance against a time-warping fae prince?” I answered, hope rising in my chest.
She turned and slapped me on the shoulder with her Pam sized hand, shoving me back several feet. “No idiot! Your prophecy about ‘women in red’ causing you trouble looks more and more like it’s gonna come true. And you’ve screwed both of them! The curse holds up.” Her eyes glittered in anticipation.
My mouth was suddenly dry.
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