Pandora's Box (31 page)
Authors: Natale Stenzel
“Naturally, that’s only if you can forgive my evil plot to bludgeon you to death.” Mina couldn’t hold back the comment.
“Ssssh.” Riordan was frowning. “So I’m choosing between my human half and my magical half, but—”
“But that essential part of you, the part connecting the two, would follow you whichever path you chose. You will have your
soul back, intact, whatever choice you make.”
“Then the choice is very simple.” Riordan’s expression cleared, and he smiled as he turned to Mina. “I choose mortality and
Mina. Forever, whatever this life or the next brings us. Well, except bludgeoning. We’re done with that.”
All traces of humor gone now, Mina stared at the cornerstone. It had lit as if from within as soon as Riordan stated his choice.
Obviously, the decision was final. She turned back to Riordan, feeling shaky. She’d known he would make this choice, but the
reality of it, now that he had . . . “You’re giving up your immortality for me? And your magic? Dear god, you’re going to
hate
me.”
He laughed and picked her up for a wild spin. “Oh, no, woman. You see, I have an evil agenda of my own now. First, I’m going
to make you pay for keeping secrets from me. Then you’re going to pay for clubbing me. And then you’re going to pay for your
intention to club me again—”
“Oh, so now you’re going to beat me? That’s love.” But she was laughing through her tears.
He let her body slide low enough that he could whisper in her ear. “Who said anything about beating? Babe, I have only the
most exquisite tortures in mind for you. You forget, I’ve been living in your head and walking through your fantasies for
some time now. I know just how to get you.”
“Oooooh. Bring it on.” She stared at him, dazzled and seriously breathless.
“And then I’m thinking skanky food sex. That’s something I’ve always wanted to try. Ice cream and steak. Let’s be creative.
. . .”
“I await your pleasure, ladies and gentlemen.” Robin surveyed the grove of Druids.
Mina glanced up from Riordan and frowned. “What—?”
“Robin, no.” Setting Mina down, Riordan stepped forward.
Glancing in surprise at his brother, Robin chuckled a little, but shook his head. “Imagine. I helped Akker condemn you to
a living hell, knowing you didn’t deserve it. And now that I’ve finally confessed to the unforgivable, you still think to
save me. Riordan, you have by far surpassed everyone’s expectations of you. I commend you for it. Now stay the hell out of
this.”
The High Druid stepped hesitantly forward. “You seek to right matters.”
“I do.”
Obviously alarmed, Riordan interrupted again. “But that’s completely unnecessary. Robin, I forgive you. There. It’s done.
My pardon for your pardon.”
Robin eyed his brother with a strange smile. “So quickly you forgive me. After everything. I thank you. But it doesn’t work
that way, you know. My karma . . .” He shook his head, his lips twisting as his handsome features assumed that odd, faraway
look again. “Plus a really inconvenient, newborn conscience. God help me. But it’s there. And neither karma nor conscience
will be satisfied so easily.” Robin turned back to High Druid Phil. “Please. Continue. I do wish to right matters.”
The Druid nodded quietly. “And you will abide by whatever retribution we deem appropriate? Without retaliating against us?”
Robin tipped his head forward in acknowledgment.
As the Druids hesitantly rehuddled, sneakers and sandals gathering beneath a cloud of white cotton, Mina heard a rustling
in the trees. And a shout.
“Hey!” A thump and then, “Ouch, damn it. Tea-eague! Miiii-na! Are you there? Am I too late? I can be a character witness.
I
want
to be a character witness. Just hold your horses till I get there.”
Riordan squinted into the trees. “Janelle? Damn it, I told you to stay out of this. This isn’t for you to deal with.”
“Well, I was the only one who believed in your damned visions before now. While everyone else is reeling from shock and confusion,
I’m damn well not going to abandon you to God knows what—Damn it!” Another thump and more scrabbling.
Riordan raised a brow at Mina. “Obviously, she’s even less of a nature girl than you are.”
“No, I’m just tired. Ouch!” Janelle sounded near violence now. “I just got off a sixteen-hour shift dealing with such idiots
you would not believe. I haven’t had any freaking sleep in more than twenty-four hours, and I was terrified I’d get here and
you’d already be condemned.” She stumbled into the clearing, looking ruffled and stained in her wrinkled scrubs. A smudge
concealed the freckles on part of her cheekbone. “And now . . .” She froze, staring beyond Riordan.
To glare at Robin. “
You
.”
Robin bowed his head in acknowledgment. There was an odd gleam in his eye as he surveyed Janelle from tousled top to scuffed
bottom.
Phil the High Druid cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind . . .” He glanced at Robin and Janelle, along with the wildly intrigued
Mina and Riordan. “We have a sentencing to finish”—he frowned down at his watch—“before the park closes.”
“Oh, that was mystic-like, ” Mina muttered.
“Mina, hush.” But Riordan’s voice shook with amusement.
Choosing her own method of silencing, Mina tugged Riordan’s face down to hers.
“Yes, of course. Please continue.” Robin bowed respectfully to the Druid while Janelle looked on, frowning. She glanced at
the embracing Riordan and Mina and obviously decided it was worth holding her tongue for the moment.
“Given your own transgressions and their effect on your brother, we can’t let this offense go unpunished. Robin Goodfellow,
Akker’s legacy must not be blemished by your acts.”
“I understand.”
“Your brother is no innocent, but neither are you entirely guilty. Your brother has paid dearly for his offenses. You have
not.” The High Druid frowned, obviously pondering options.
“They’re not going to do the football thing again, are they?” Mina stage-whispered. “All right, all right. Stop pinching.
Hey, I get it now. Janelle wouldn’t go out with you because you looked like some mysterious ex. Do you suppose—”
“Yes, truly, it’s your brains and intuition that seduce me every single day.” Riordan gave her an ironic look. “Now hush,
so we can hear what’s going on.”
Phil the Druid was quietly consulting with an elderly woman next to him, who eyed Robin and then Janelle with a speculative
gleam in her eye. Finally, Phil nodded and turned back to the remaining puca. “I have a punishment that is both compassionate
for all concerned and appropriate.”
He cleared his throat and gathered his robes and his dignity. “We, the Druid Council, condemn you, Robin Good-fellow, to finish
out your years
as a mortal.
You will walk the earth, like your brother does, as a human male adult.
“We will not take your powers from you, as we do not have Oberon’s permission to do so, but we can severely limit them. We
can require you to be accountable to the human lifestyle, values and laws. No willful and convenient disembodiment, no glamouring.
You should use this time to make amends with your brother and others you may have wronged along the way.”
“Oh, now wait just a minute.” Janelle heatedly stepped forward. “You’re going to loose this arrogant, irresponsible, vindictive
jerk on the human population with no warning, no way to protect the innocent? How idiotic is that?”
“Excuse me, ” the Druid interrupted her. “May I ask who you are and what interest you have in these proceedings?”
“My name is Janelle Corrington. I’m a friend of Riordan’s. Teague’s. Er, Robert Goodfellow.” She groaned. “Him.” She pointed
to the appropriate brother.
“I see. And you know this other man, too?”
Janelle scowled. “You could say that. Briefly and much to my regret. If you want a guy who drops women like flies, though,
he’s a better pick than my friend is. This guy’s a complete loser with women.”
“I see.”
“And you!” She turned back to Phil and the other Druids. “You want to loose him on the world. How is that fair to us humans?
What happened to the ‘compassion’ part of that sentence—compassion for the innocent? Are you so under this guy’s thumb that
you’re willing to risk the whole freaking planet just to give him a light sentence?” She glanced at the white-robed group
behind Phil, who all stood silent. “Surely one of you could be chained to him, like Mina was to Riordan, just to make sure
he behaves.”
The white-robed group shuffled until finally the High Druid cleared his throat again. “I’m afraid not. You see, we all fear
him.” He seemed to be choking on his own words, while the elderly female next to him nodded agreement.
“You fear
him
?” Janelle pointed at Robin, her voice arcing high with disbelief.
Phil just shrugged. “His temper is legendary.”
“Well, fine, you cowards. Someone else, then.”
“Who exactly? Should we tell the police that a condemned puca lives among us?”
Janelle paused at that. “Well, you could just say he’s psycho or something.”
“Based on what evidence?”
She raised her brows and spoke with mocking simplicity. “His claim to being a shape-shifter, maybe?”
Robin eyed her with amusement. “Do I look stupid enough to tell a human something he refuses to believe? I’ve been shifting
shape for longer than your country has existed. I know how to play the chameleon.”
“You know better how to play the heartless
snake
.”
He shrugged, his gaze lingering on his brother before returning to Janelle. “Perhaps you’re right.”
A sudden murmuring in the Druid ranks drew their attention again. The High Druid spoke. “There is, however, another option.
Perhaps one of you, present here today, could keep an eye on him.” Phil cast an eye upon Robin’s brother.
Riordan and Mina stilled.
Eyeing them, Janelle was already shaking her head. “Oh, no you don’t. They just got their lives back. They don’t need to play
keeper for this jerk.”
The Druid cleared his throat. “Are you married, young lady?”
“Me? No, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Of course you don’t, ” Robin muttered. “But you will.”
“And you are acquainted with the Goodfellow brothers and Ms. Avery here?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“The solution seems obvious to me, then.” High Druid Phil looked satisfied now, as he surveyed his audience. “You, Janelle
Corrington, will be Robin Goodfellow’s guardian on Earth.”
Yes, the Avebury Stone Circle really exists. Thought to have been constructed by the Beaker people (
not
the Druids) in Neolithic times, this circle encloses the existing village of Avebury in Wiltshire County, England. It’s larger
and older than its well-known cousin, Stonehenge, but less well-preserved, with only a fraction of the original number of
stones still intact.
During the fourteeth century, and possibly even earlier, Christian authorities toppled and broke many of the stones in their
effort to eradicate local paganism. Later, villagers continued to break up the stones to make way for agriculture—even using
stone fragments to construct local buildings. Was there ever a family named Avebury or Avery, native to this area? Your guess
is as good as mine, but I liked the idea of closely aligning my heroine with the area, so I let her share the name.
The puca really is a creature of Irish and Welsh myth. He’s a trickster and a shape-shifter who enjoys surprising and terrorizing
unsuspecting travelers. In his form of horse, he has been known to toss the occasional human onto his back for the ride of
his life, after which the terrified human returns home “forever changed.” What exactly does “forever changed” imply? I never
could find any folk tales bold enough to outline the details, so I took a few liberties of my own.
Also according to folklore, November 1 (November Day), also known as the puca’s day, is the one day of the year when the mischievous
puca can be expected to behave civilly. He may even hand out prophecies and warnings to those who consult him.
In English folklore, the puca is known as Robin Good-fellow, the prankster son of a human female and Oberon, King of the Fairies.
He was immortalized more recently by William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson. Some experts have even suggested that the legend
of Robin Hood evolved from Robin Goodfellow.
Robert
Goodfellow—or Rioghbardon/Riordan—whom I named as Robin’s half-brother, was a product of my own imagination. And, while the
geas
really existed in Celtic folklore, I know of no legend or myth suggesting a puca was ever burdened by one or otherwise plagued
by vengeful Druids.
The Druids themselves are shrouded in mystery, with history recording only a few references to them, many by Julius Caesar.
The Druids wrote almost nothing down, each spending twenty years at a “college” learning skills and memorizing everything
rather than resorting to script. As the more learned members of their society, the Druids were known as the wise men, the
leaders, the judges, the peacemakers and the healers of their times. Naturally, I’ve taken all kinds of (enjoyable) poetic
license in depicting fictional Druids Akker and Maegth, as well as the modern day bunch who judged Riordan and Robin at the
end.
LOVE SPELL
®
February 2008
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Copyright © 2008 by Natale Nogosek Stenzel
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