Divided against Yourselves (Spell Weaver) Page 19

  “A chance to get out alive?” asked Nurse Florence. “Is our situation that dire?”

  Surprisingly, Sir Arian chuckled at the question. “We have faced two powerful and deadly menaces in the same afternoon, and our journey is not even half over. You tell me.”

  “Well, I could take advantage of Annwn’s rather flexible geography and gate us home,” said Nurse Florence. “I was about to do just that when the dragon struck. Perhaps this route is no longer safe, as Sir Arian is suggesting.”

  “But if we do that, we have to start all over again,” I pointed out, “and we have to worry about Morgan nonstop until we do. I have a different suggestion, if Gwynn will give us his permission.”

  “If you have a request to make, make it, Taliesin,” urged Sir Arian. “Even if you did not have his respect before, you would certainly have it after today.”

  “Let us ask Gwynn for permission to spend the night in his castle. I doubt even Morgan could attack us there.”

  “If Morgan Le Fay is responsible for these outrages, she is already in more trouble than you can imagine,” said Sir Arian. “For her to attack Gwynn’s castle would be inconceivable. And I believe Gwynn would readily extend his hospitality. But how does that serve your ends? His castle lies farther to the east than your goal—much farther, in fact.”

  “I am proposing a change in goal. I think you are right, Sir Arian: the road ahead is too dangerous. On the other hand, going back to our own world is dangerous as well. I suggest instead that we rest the night in Gwynn’s castle, assuming he will have us, and then tomorrow we perform the reversal spell on Carla.”

  “What? Here?” said Nurse Florence incredulously.

  “You yourself reminded me of how much easier it is to perform magic in Annwn than back in our world. Once we have Carla back and have prevented Alcina from taking control, we can go back to our world and deal with Morgan without having to worry about her finding some way to get to Carla first.”

  “There is wisdom in what Taliesin says,” observed Sir Arian approvingly.

  “Yes, I must admit the plan is well-thought-out, especially for being spontaneous,” conceded Nurse Florence. “There are those in the Order who will be upset by it, but frankly you know more than any living person about how the post-awakening traumas can be handled. Assuming Gwynn can lend us some casters to give us the power to pull off the spell, I don’t see any problem with this idea.”

  Gordy looked a little puzzled at all this. “But if Gwynn’s castle is farther away than the gateway to the Order, isn’t the trip going to be even more dangerous?”

  “Unlike the Order’s headquarters, Gwynn’s castle doesn’t require that we start from two days away,” replied Nurse Florence. “The geography of Annwn is hard to explain if you aren’t used to it, but basically the distance from one place to another in Annwn is stable. That is, Gwynn’s castle will always be the same distance away from where we stand right now. However, Annwn’s geography is more…flexible…in relation to our world. From here I could put us back in Santa Brígida or in London equally easily, even though they are thousands of miles apart in our world.”

  “Wow, so we could go anywhere?” asked Khalid, eyes wide with wonder. There was something amusing about a boy who was half djinn being so easily awestruck, but I had to remember that he had never had any real contact with the otherworldly part of his heritage.

  Nurse Florence laughed. “Anywhere I have been, anyway. I have to be able to see the place in my mind to connect this spot in Annwn to the place we want to go. And any place besides Santa Brígida takes more time to set up. I kept the image of Santa Brígida fresh in mind for the return trip; I’d have to visualize a new destination to properly connect it with this spot in Annwn.”

  “I had best find another owl and send Gwynn a message,” said Sir Arian a little nervously. “There is no telling how long this calm will last, but I do not think too long.” With that he shot upward and disappeared into the darkness.

  “Assuming Gwynn says yes, how do we get to his castle?” I asked.

  “Well,” replied Nurse Florence, “he has an understanding with our Order that enables any of us to enter Annwn wherever he happens to be, as I had to do when we were asking for weapons for the battle with Ceridwen, but we are supposed to reserve that kind of interruption for occasions when there is no other choice. Once we get his permission, I would rather use more polite means. There is a fixed gateway to his castle at Glastonbury Tor. I can take us there from here, and then we just need to pass through the gateway at the Tor. Let’s see, if I am figuring this right, it is about four in the afternoon in Santa Brígida, which makes it about midnight at Glastonbury. That’s good. At least we won’t appear in the middle of a flock of tourists. My superiors in the Order really would be bent out of shape by that.”

  “If we can appear in Glastonbury, why can’t we appear in Cardiff and end up at your Order, so you won’t get into trouble?” asked Shar.

  “It’s good of you to worry about me,” said Nurse Florence with a smile, “but I won’t get into trouble if we don’t cause a big scene at Glastonbury. Anyway, remember the Order’s security arrangements make that impossible. We can’t get into the Order through Annwn except by using their fixed gateway, which we have to travel a minimum of two days in Annwn before we can use.”

  She wrinkled her forehead a little as she considered other possibilities. “The spells involved wouldn’t prevent us from going from anywhere in Annwn to other locations in Cardiff, but…uh, it’s hard to explain…if we traveled that way, the headquarters simply wouldn’t be there, or at least we would never be able to find it.” Shar looked puzzled, and even I was having difficulty following the explanation. “The headquarters isn’t really in our world; it exists in a little world of its own. It connects to Annwn, and it connects to our world, but both connections are deliberately complicated by all kinds of magical rules. If the headquarters existed only on Earth, such elaborate security would be impossible.”

  Nurse Florence had made the mistake of explaining the workings of the headquarters in a way that got Stan asking about the physics of the situation, and I immediately tuned out, as I think did almost everybody else, though Khalid listened with rapt attention. Fortunately for the rest of us, Sir Arian returned in just a few minutes with an invitation for all of us to come to Gwynn’s castle.

  After that Nurse Florence visualized the summit of Glastonbury Tor, and, once she had the area clearly in her mind, it was not long before she was able to open the now-familiar glowing portal, and we passed through it as quickly as we could. The faeries accompanied us, though they appeared more nervous than when they were facing the dragon. At least since the introduction of gunpowder in Europe, faeries and other similar beings had traveled to Earth less and less—a bullet would normally be faster than even the fastest spell caster.

  When we emerged, we were standing right next to Saint Michael’s tower on the summit of Glastonbury Tor. As much as I knew the logistics would have been more difficult during the day, I wished that I could have seen the view. I could see a few lights, from what I assumed to be Glastonbury itself, to the west of where we stood, but that was about it. Everything from the rolling green expanses nearby to the Black Mountains in Wales was hidden by the night. It was a clear night, and there was enough moonlight for the guys to be impressed by the tower, now missing both doors and roof, but still an impressive mass of stone rising several stories in the air, with some of its upper-level carvings faintly visible. Even at night I would have liked to sightsee just a little, but naturally Nurse Florence wanted to get us to Gwynn’s castle as soon as she could—and the faeries seemed to want that even sooner. I wondered if the faint faerie glow would be visible from a distance, and, if someone did see it, would that spawn yet another UFO story? (The Tor had produced its share over the years!)

  Suddenly a glow erupted in the center of the tower, more intense than the typical portal to or from Annwn. Nurse Florence and Sir Arian ushered u
s through as quickly as they could, and we quickly forgot any missed sightseeing opportunities on the other side once we beheld Gwynn’s castle.

  Stepping out of the gateway from Glastonbury Tor, we found ourselves in front of the barbican, the outer gateway into the castle itself. The gate itself was flanked by two low towers, in which, judging by the arrow slots in the wall and the faint glow that came through them, clandestine faerie archers lurked, waiting for the slightest sign of trouble to open fire. Through the open gate I could see a long bridge flanked on either side by high walls, on the parapets of which more faerie archers walked, equally ready for action.

  At Sir Arian’s orders, the gate was opened for us, and we were quickly ushered through the barbican, across the fixed bridge, and to the drawbridge, which was already being lowered by the time we got there. As we walked across, I noticed that the water in the moat, which could not have been that deep, had the look of enormous depth to it, as if one who fell into it would sink forever. Once across, we were in a large courtyard, bigger than Camelot’s had been—and Camelot had been pretty big by the standards of its day. Upon the massive outer walls were yet more faerie archers. I had lost count by this time, but I knew this was one castle I would never want to mount an attack against.

  Toward the back left as we entered was a huge square tower that had to be the keep, the military center of the castle. To the right lay an even larger building, clearly where Gwynn’s residence and court lay. Some of you have doubtless seen the ruins of medieval castles, and a few of them give a pretty good idea of how impressive the castle would have been originally. None of the ones I had ever seen, even as the original Taliesin, at which point the castles were still whole and functioning, had even come close to this.

  It was not just the size of the place. There was an energy, a life-force, even within the very stones themselves. They were not the grayish, whitish or faintly yellowed stones I had seen in earthly castles, but were more like marble, and, at least in the interior parts of the castle, highly polished, yet I was sure they had a toughness greater than earthly stone. They also had a faint but noticeable silver sheen to them. The glow of the faeries and the sheen of the walls would have been dazzling enough by themselves, but the light from the numerous torches made the courtyard seem almost like midday.

  Sir Arian kept prodding us forward, through a massive door and into a great hallway. Corridors frequently branched off to the right and to the left, but Sir Arian told us to move straight ahead, toward what must surely have been the castle’s great hall. When we finally arrived, the place certainly lived up to its name. Statues of faerie and human heroes lined the walls. They were some distance away from us, but they had been sculpted so well they seemed to be alive, especially in the flickering torch-light. The walls were hung with multicolored tapestries of equally great artistic merit that portrayed great events in the histories of Earth and of Annwn, and they too seemed almost alive.

  In the center of the room, large wooden tables had been set in a partial square, open on the end at which we entered the room, and at those tables sat the faerie elite, the nobles of Gwynn’s kingdom, dressed in a variety of outfits that faerie seamstresses must have spent days sewing. I couldn’t tell what kind of fabrics were used and doubted that I could find anything like them in our world.

  At the center of the table, facing the entry door, was Gwynn ap Nudd himself, dark-faced and every inch as formidable as he had looked the last time I had seen him. Generally, faeries were of a somewhat more slender build, but Gwynn was massive, not literally a giant, but certainly someone you would avoid challenging to a wrestling match.

  “Taliesin!” he shouted as soon as he saw me. “You are most welcome here. Step forward, that I may introduce you to my court.” I moved much closer to him and bowed.

  “This youth is a reincarnation of Taliesin, King Arthur’s bard, and a great hero in this lifetime. He it was who spared us the trouble of having to deal with Ceridwen. Just today I am told he defeated an evil sorceress and helped rid our land of a dragon—and not just some pup at that, but a full-sized monster!”

  “Your Majesty, I would have been the dragon’s dinner but for the help of the men you sent along as escort,” I replied, trying to keep from blushing.

  “Heroic and modest as well,” said Gwynn, laughing deeply, as he always did. “Perhaps you will favor us with a song later.”

  I was used to performing in this life, but entertaining hormonal teenagers at a school dance was a little different from being asked to perform for the king of the Welsh faeries and his entire court. Still, I nodded my assent. That was the kind of request I could not really refuse, especially under current circumstances.

  “And is this the beautiful maiden you have come to save?” asked Gwynn, leaning over to look at Carla, still in her hospital bed.

  “Yes, Majesty, this is Carla Rinaldi.”

  “She labors under a great weight of dark magic, Taliesin. But I am told you know how to rescue her if you have enough power behind your casting. I myself will lend you my strength, and I think with that you will succeed.”

  I almost fainted at that. Well, not really, but if anything was going to make me faint, that would have been it. Keep in mind that Gwynn had been worshiped as a god by some early Celtic groups. He had been thought of as the king of winter, ruler of the underworld, gatherer of souls, and leader of the wild hunt. Getting his help with the magic was somewhat like looking for AA batteries and finding a nuclear reactor.

  “Majesty, I am overwhelmed by your generosity,” I said feebly.

  When people said that they had no words to express their feelings, I had always kind of chuckled at them, but this was one situation in which I genuinely didn’t know how to express my gratitude. Gwynn, perhaps to avoid throwing me off any further, moved on quickly.

  “Viviane! It has been long since you have actually been at court. You must be our guest more often in future.”

  “Thank you, Majesty,” said Nurse Florence, with a bow.

  “Shahriyar, another true warrior in our midst.”

  “I try, Majesty,” said Shahriyar, also bowing.

  Gwynn greeted Dan and Gordy equally warmly, then moved on to Carlos, whom he had not met before. Then he came to Khalid, and his eyes widened. “Well, boy, who might you be?”

  Considering that Khalid had been homeless for about three years, his life before had not really prepared him to chat with royalty. However, thanks to Mrs. Sassani, he did look a little like an Abercrombie and Fitch commercial, and he was certainly sharp enough to follow our leads.

  “My name is Khalid, Majesty,” he said and made a passable bow.

  “I might have wondered why Taliesin would include someone so young in his party, but you are more than just human, aren’t you?”

  “Actually,” said Khalid in a very timid voice, “Tal did not include me. I…hid and sneaked through the portal into this wonderful place.” Khalid lowered his head and did not meet Gwynn’s eyes, perhaps expecting a reprimand of some kind. Instead, Gwynn responded with another one of his belly laughs.

  “Taliesin, I think the boy has some of your spirit! May it serve him as well as it has served you. Khalid, you may have sneaked here, but you are as welcome as anyone else.”

  I had expected Gwynn to ask more questions about Khalid’s nature, but again he moved on. Perhaps he had somehow picked up on how uncomfortable Khalid was with that nature.

  “Stanford? Bold as ever, I see. But there is something different about you this time.”

  “Yes, Majesty, in the battle against Ceridwen I was…awakened…much as Tal was four years before.”

  “I thought so,” said Gwynn, leaning over the table and giving it a resounding rap with his knuckles. “There is someone mighty within you, to say the least. Who were you once?”

  Now it was Stan’s turn to be uncomfortable. “I… was…King David of Israel, Your Majesty.”

  Gwynn looked inquisitively in Nurse Florence’s direction. “Vivia
ne, more than mere coincidence seems to be at work here.”

  “I have sometimes thought so myself, Your Majesty,” replied Nurse Florence, “but there doesn’t seem to be any way to know, at least not yet.”

  “Well, the purpose will be revealed in good time, no doubt,” said Gwynn. “In any case, Stanford, welcome to my court!”

  Stan, obviously puzzled, bowed and stepped back. By this point he was not the only one who was puzzled. Sure, it was a pretty large coincidence that King David and I had been reunited after all these years, but what was Gwynn implying? That it was fate? That some higher power was manipulating us? I would have to talk with him about this situation when I got the chance.

  “And now, visiting heroes, please do us the honor of joining in our feast—”

  “Majesty, we cannot,” replied Nurse Florence quickly.

  Gwynn winked at her and chuckled. “We will waive the usual rules, Viviane. You may all eat and drink without becoming tied to this realm.”

  At a gesture from Gwynn, an extra table was brought in and set for us with amazing speed. The faerie servants were clearly as fast as the faerie knights. Nurse Florence moved to look after Carla, but a couple of faerie healers appeared at just that moment and promised to take care of her while Nurse Florence ate. We waited for Nurse Florence and Sir Arian to sit, and then the rest of us scrambled in. I ended up with Sir Arian on my left and Stan on my right. In front of us were a variety of silver plates, goblets, and utensils that looked as if someone spent twenty-four hours a day polishing them. I remembered how impressed I was at the pre-homecoming party at Carrie Winn’s, but this experience promised to be far, far above that one.

  “I…I don’t suppose they have anything kosher,” mumbled Stan, not wanting to be rude but clearly uncomfortable at the thought of a roasted pig being shoved at him.

  “Stanford, you may have whatever you wish,” said Sir Arian. “Just think of it, and it will be brought.” He spoke loudly enough for Shar and Khalid to also hear, and they both looked relieved, having probably just had the same anxiety as Stan.