Living with Your Past Selves (Spell Weaver) (26 page)

“That’s what makes…Zom so valuable. Neither the sword nor its wielder can be affected by hostile magic. In practice that also means magic dissipates if Zom hits it directly. White Hilt is a powerful enough artifact that its flames die out only near the contact point, and the magic can reassert itself…”

“But not as fast as I’d like,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” agreed Nurse Florence, “not fast enough for combat situations. Also, though Zom’s touch only temporarily disables continuous enchantments like that on White Hilt, it will break more transitory spells completely, and I have heard that creatures otherwise invulnerable to physical attack are vulnerable to it. With that blade, Shar can take anything Carrie Winn can possibly dish out, and more.”

“Then shouldn’t I be wielding it, since likely I’ll be leading the charge.” Shar looked scandalized at the suggestion.

“You need to change strategy, Tal. You’ve been trying to be both bard and warrior, and that combination doesn’t really work. How often did either the first or second Taliesin wade out into the middle of a battle? Remember how hard it was to fight the
pwca
physically and get your magic together? Or the kelpie, for that matter?” I must have looked downcast, because her tone softened immediately. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t continue your combat training—in a pinch, you will need to be able to handle your blade—or that you’re a bad fighter. You’re actually extremely good at it. But you can do more for your friends with a song than with a blade in the long run, and if you need to use the blade, use it as a distance weapon. You know how to direct the fire in a way no previous wielder has ever known. Imagine Shar charging forward to disrupt the enemy while you fire bursts of flame into their ranks.”

I must still have looked terribly unconvinced. “Remember Merlin, Tal? How often did he pick up a sword and charge the enemy?”

“He had a sword,” I said defensively.

“And he used it in your presence how often?” The answer was never, but I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, so I just eyed her glumly.

“Have you not yet learned the strength of teamwork? This isn’t about what role you play, but how what you do complements everyone else’s effort. Shar has the better sword because he is the better swordsman, better equipped to lead the charge. But if we have to fight, he won’t last five seconds after Winn’s guards open fire unless you have solved the problem of how to use magic to disable their guns. For that matter, if you can’t take out the security system, someone will spot the fact that not only you, but also Shar, is coming in armed, and you’ll get dropped before you even get in the door.

“Not that that will happen,” she said firmly. “Because if I suspect that you can’t get your magic to disable her technology, none of you will get within twenty miles of Awen—ever. Even that’s a risky course of action, since, as you pointed out, Winn will suspect something is up, but the possibility of retaliation later is better than the certainty of slaughter now. So what is it going to be, Tal? Man up, and play the role only you can play, or let your male ego get you into locking horns with Shar and throwing away our only chance to defeat Winn?”

Of course, she was right. I was in better shape now than during the combats of a few weeks ago, but I knew I would have trouble drawing enough breath to really sing or focus well enough to really spell cast if I had to sword fight with a tough opponent at the same time.

“Okay, I guess that was the testosterone talking earlier,” I said, just a little grudgingly. “Shar, the sword is obviously best suited to your hand. I’ll back you up with music and magic.”

“Hey,” said Gordy, “What about Dan and me? When do we get our swords?” Nurse Florence stifled a snicker.

“Magic swords are a rare thing, Gordy. The fact that one small group like this has two is practically unprecedented in modern times. I have confidence you can do your part without special equipment.”

“Shar’s a better fighter than I am, and he gets a magic sword. How am I supposed to defend Stan properly with just my fists?”

“Wait! He’s here for me?” said Stan shrilly.

You hadn’t noticed he was practically climbing into your skin with you?

“There could be a lot of danger, Stan. I knew you would want to go anyway, so…”

“So you got Gordy to be my babysitter?”

“I got Gordy to have your back like Dan has mine. Nothing wrong with that.”

I knew Stan was about to blow sky-high and then be embarrassed about it later, but I didn’t see how I could stop it. However, Gordy, with some hitherto unexpected psychological insight, pulled Stan off to one side, where they talked heatedly for a while, but when they rejoined the group, Stan was calm again.

In the interim Nurse Florence had been pondering. “Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen. I need quiet to make a quick contact. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the fog without giving anyone a chance to ask questions. Shar was almost too busy admiring his sword to notice, and Dan asked for a closer look, effectively occupying both of them for a few minutes.

Stan moved over next to me, then turned, glared at Gordy and motioned him away. Gordy stepped back just a few steps and kept his eyes fixed on Stan.

“Well, how does it feel to be me?” asked Stan.

“What do you mean?” I asked, clueless about where he was going.

“How does it feel to be sidelined when the fighting starts?”

I ignored the sting in that remark and focused on the fact that Stan was still hung up on having a bodyguard. “Stan, you haven’t been sidelined.”

“No, for me it’s even worse. At least you get to fight in a pinch. What am I supposed to do, hide under a table when the action starts?”

“No need,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “You can always hide under Gordy.”

“Not funny!” said Stan sullenly.

“Look, I’ll admit I had a hard time seeing Shar suddenly become the lead fighter, but Nurse Florence was right—I’m more valuable in a different role—and that role depends upon you. Stan, I can never learn the science we need to neutralize Winn’s physical firepower in just a few days. Some of it I might never get. But you, you already have it. You not only know the science; you have the ability to visualize concretely. I can read it from you, and with that knowledge, I can create the fusion between magic and science that will save us in the end. Without you, we could never succeed.”

“Intellectually, I know you’re right,” admitted Stan in a tone that somewhat undercut his words, “but emotionally, I want you to know how hard this is for me. You were always in pretty good physical shape; you have really never had to be the little nerd. I’ve been that all my life, and now that I’m in better shape, somehow I’m still the little nerd. I have enough muscle now to do something in a fight, but it doesn’t even occur to anyone to train me.”

I didn’t have the heart to bring up the martial arts fiasco at this point. “Well, Stan, since I know you’ll be there anyway, maybe we can find a more active role for you to play, but I don’t want you taking foolish chances, and I don’t want you to give Gordy a hard time about the bodyguard thing.” Stan nodded reluctantly. “By the way, what did he say to you a while ago?”

“That he really wanted to protect me, that it was his idea. I know the second part is a lie, since he wouldn’t have known I needed protection before he was recruited, but he is sincere about wanting the job.” Stan paused, actually a little bit lost for words. “Tal, you have been looking out for me as long as I can remember, but Gordy, I didn’t really know him until I started tutoring him, and he acts like we’ve been friends forever, like he cares about me, well, more than anyone else on campus except you.”

“He really appreciates the tutoring, and I think he is more perceptive than people give him credit for. He knows what a good person you are, Stan, and he responds to that.”

“I know he means well, but his keeping such a close watch makes me feel even more inadequate. You have never done that to me, and Dan doesn’t do that to you…”

“I’ll talk to him when we get back home, but…” I was interrupted at that point by the return of Nurse Florence, her face actually flushed with excitement. I had never seen her like that before, and it was hot, but I forced myself not to think about it.

“Gentlemen, I think I can get us some additional weapons, Gordy, if you and Dan aren’t too fussy. They won’t be in quite the same league as White Hilt and Zom, but they could still give you an edge in a fight with Winn’s security, who I am pretty sure won’t be carrying magical weapons. And your weapons will be made for you.”

“Someone still makes magical weapons?” asked Dan. He hadn’t betrayed surprise too often recently, but he did this time.

“Not quite like they used to, but yes. It is likely, though, that you will be tested to determine your worthiness. Nothing potentially deadly or overly dangerous, but such weapons are not without cost.”

“Whatever the test is, bring it on!” replied Gordy with a big smile. The more I saw of that guy, the more I liked him. I had to pat myself on the back a little for suggesting his recruitment.

“The test is going to be in Annwn,” said Nurse Florence. Stan and I both gasped; everyone else remained surprisingly impassive. “It is being organized by Gwynn ap Nuad himself.”

“The king of all Welsh faeries?” I asked. We had met in an earlier life, so I was not as surprised as you might think. In the background I could hear Dan explaining the idea of faeries to Gordy.

“The same. Only he can authorize Govannon, the faerie smith, to give weapons or armor to a mortal. Now, the court is waiting for us, so, if you don’t mind…” A word or two in Welsh, a few gestures, and suddenly a glowing portal appeared in their midst.

“Ladies first,” I said. She passed through quickly, followed by me, Dan, Shar, Gordy, who insisted on going through first to make sure it was safe, and Stan.

Distances don’t work the same way in the Otherworld that they do in ours. Passing through a portal in city hall, we had come out in Morgan Le Fay’s prison. Passing through near Lake Cachuma, about twenty miles away, put us in the realm of Gwynnn ap Nuad, many thousands of miles from Morgan. Someone, like Nurse Florence, who knew what she was doing, could pretty well pick anywhere in Annwn and end up there from anywhere on earth. I should have been able to do the same thing, but, well, one problem at a time.

The glow faded, and I jumped to find myself almost right in front of Gwynn himself, looking as he was always portrayed in literature, dark of face, mounted on his war horse, surrounded by his three enormous hounds, one white, one red, and one black, looking somewhat fiercer than any of them. He was flanked on each side by several faerie warriors, each pale, faired haired, and handsome, staunch men of the
Tylwyth Teg
, each carrying a formidable looking long sword. Despite all the stories about faerie celebration, this was the grimmest group I had seen in quite a while. Then I noticed behind them Govannon, soot smudged from the forge, waiting patiently to see whether or not he needed to labor more today.

“Viviane,” said Gwynn, in a booming voice, “seldom have I been called upon in such a peremptory fashion.”

Nurse Florence bowed to him. “Pardon me, your Majesty, but as I told you, the need is great, so great I pray you excuse my unmannerly approach.”

Abruptly he turned his piercing eyes on me. “And Taliesin, you rascal, I never thought to see you here again, and in a different body, I see. Is that how you got in?”

“I brought him, Majesty,” said Nurse Florence quickly. “In this life he has yet to learn how to travel to Annwn as he was wont to do before.”

“Of course he can’t. Arawn is still angry with him for helping Arthur steal that sword Taliesin carries at his side. Perhaps Arawn will forgive him if he returns it.” Arawn had once been king of all Annwn, but I had never imagined he still carried a grudge for something I did on Arthur’s orders fifteen hundred years ago. Well, at least that solved one mystery.

“In any case, I will not meddle in Arawn’s affairs. I did not let Taliesin in; there is no ban on dealing with him once he’s here.” Gordy and Shar, who had never been in the Otherworld before, were looking around with something akin to wonder on their faces. It was not that there was anything overtly supernatural—well, aside from the red hound, perhaps—but everything, from the undulating mist to the vividly green grass, to the unblemished skin of the faerie knights, never looked completely real if you were used to the mortal world.

“So you wish faerie weapons,” said Gwynn, turning his attention to Gordy and Dan. “You must be found worthy to wield such weapons. But before your test, I will test the worthiness of the rest of your party.” He turned back to me. “You first, Taliesin. You weren’t much of a warrior back when we first met. Let’s see if you are worthy to wield the sword you stole.” He turned to one of his warriors, and gestured to him to sheath his weapon. “Anyone can win a battle with White Hilt, but for a mortal man to beat a faerie bare-handed, that, now that, would truly demonstrate your worth.” Gwynn nodded, and the faerie warrior sprang at me.

The problem with a mortal fighting a faerie hand-to-hand was that the faerie was always going to be faster—or so the conventional wisdom ran. I decided to put the idea to the test, humming to myself, willing my body to move faster. Faeries weren’t comic book superhero fast, so I should be able to be at least as agile and swift as my opponent. The faerie punched me in the stomach and stopped my humming, but I somehow kept up a fairly competitive speed, dodging the next blow and even managing to deliver a punch of my own. Then the faerie got in three more good shots in rapid succession. But though the faerie was faster, he was not anywhere nearly as strong as Shar, probably not even as strong as I was. And this was not a boxing match, so I took another punch on purpose, grabbed the faery’s right arm, and flung him to the grass. For a second he seemed stunned, but he was up again faster than my human reactions could interfere. Again, I managed enough magic to speed myself up, once more reminded of how hard it was to do magic and fight at the same time. Then I grabbed him, and threw him to the ground, with me on top of him, holding on as if he were a leprechaun and I thought if I held on long enough I would get a pot of gold. He didn’t have the strength to just throw me off, but he wriggled mightily, twisting against me for some time, and then finally announced in Welsh that he yielded. I let him up, and he bowed to me before retiring to his old place next to Gwynn.