arrange a seemingly random meeting, and we could fall in love as we should have the first time.” Yeah, that’ll happen. And then you can get elected as the first female pope .
“I have no art to find a soul once it has been reincarnated in another body—and neither, I suspect, do you, or you wouldn’t be asking me.” And even if I did, I was not about to hand over some poor guy who had been Lancelot ages ago, not to someone like Morgan, who could just as easily end up killing him as marrying him.
For a moment she looked so sad that even I felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Then the sorrow flickered away, and her face might as well have been stone.
“I am sure that you could figure something out…with the right motivation. Doubtless you will find that motivation during the time that you and your playmates are my guests.” The way she said “guests” could have made people shiver in the middle of the Sahara at high noon.
We would never have a better opportunity to make a run for it than now, but that wasn’t saying much. Dan was still incapacitated, and everyone else was distracted to one degree or another. Even Stan now looked as if the situation had overwhelmed him. I had to save them, and myself for that matter, but how?
At a signal from Morgan, several fully armored knights pushed their way into the clearing, their well-polished armor glinting in the sunlight, their wickedly sharp swords already out, ready for action. As if beating Morgan by herself would not have been difficult enough.
“Sir Accolon, take our guests back to the castle.” Morgan gave me a smile as warm and cozy as Antarctica. Everyone except me was backing toward the center of the clearing as the knights closed in.
“Tal, what’s happening?” shouted Carlos. “Who are these people?”
Then Dan sat up. I only had time to glance in his direction, but that was long enough for him to wink at me.
The Voice had reconnected with him.
Before I had time to think anything else, Dan shot in my direction as if he were about to make the winning touchdown. A silvery mist enshrouded his right hand, a mist that coalesced in the blink of an eye into a sword. White Hilt!
“Your patron’s good with sword swaps,” said Dan in Welsh as he handed me the sword. “Now use the damn thing!”
One thought from me, and the sword was engulfed in flames. I burst into song to strengthen the flame for what I needed to do. The knights hesitated.
“Take them! I can always heal you after,” shouted Morgan. Knights advanced, somewhat more cautiously.
“What good is one sword, even a flaming one, against a dozen knights?” Stan whispered to me. I’m sure that is what Morgan thought as well.
I spread the flames out into a circle around us at shield level, then gradually expanded the circle in both directions until I had a flame wall surrounding us completely. The knights, confused, stopped again and looked in Morgan’s direction.
Just as the pwca had not expected an improvised laser, Morgan had not expected what amounted to a force field. As she stared, I extended the flames over our heads, and the field was complete. Even a flying adversary, if Morgan had one up her sleeve, could not touch us without burning, and the flames burned so intensely now I could not imagine any knight jumping through them fast enough.
Unfortunately, the sword had not been forged with this kind of use in mind. I could feel the hilt starting to overheat in my hand, feel the sword start to draw magic faster than I could feed it. I could only keep this kind of barrier up a few minutes.
“Everyone, harmonize with him.” Everyone, even Stan, looked at Dan in surprise. They might have expected some defensive plan from him, but they could hardly have expected musical direction.
Stan joined in first. I don’t think he had much of a future as a cantor, but at least he reinforced my rhythm. I was singing in Welsh, but as there are no language barriers in faerie realms, someone
“I have no art to find a soul once it has been reincarnated in another body—and neither, I suspect, do you, or you wouldn’t be asking me.” And even if I did, I was not about to hand over some poor guy who had been Lancelot ages ago, not to someone like Morgan, who could just as easily end up killing him as marrying him.
For a moment she looked so sad that even I felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Then the sorrow flickered away, and her face might as well have been stone.
“I am sure that you could figure something out…with the right motivation. Doubtless you will find that motivation during the time that you and your playmates are my guests.” The way she said “guests” could have made people shiver in the middle of the Sahara at high noon.
We would never have a better opportunity to make a run for it than now, but that wasn’t saying much. Dan was still incapacitated, and everyone else was distracted to one degree or another. Even Stan now looked as if the situation had overwhelmed him. I had to save them, and myself for that matter, but how?
At a signal from Morgan, several fully armored knights pushed their way into the clearing, their well-polished armor glinting in the sunlight, their wickedly sharp swords already out, ready for action. As if beating Morgan by herself would not have been difficult enough.
“Sir Accolon, take our guests back to the castle.” Morgan gave me a smile as warm and cozy as Antarctica. Everyone except me was backing toward the center of the clearing as the knights closed in.
“Tal, what’s happening?” shouted Carlos. “Who are these people?”
Then Dan sat up. I only had time to glance in his direction, but that was long enough for him to wink at me.
The Voice had reconnected with him.
Before I had time to think anything else, Dan shot in my direction as if he were about to make the winning touchdown. A silvery mist enshrouded his right hand, a mist that coalesced in the blink of an eye into a sword. White Hilt!
“Your patron’s good with sword swaps,” said Dan in Welsh as he handed me the sword. “Now use the damn thing!”
One thought from me, and the sword was engulfed in flames. I burst into song to strengthen the flame for what I needed to do. The knights hesitated.
“Take them! I can always heal you after,” shouted Morgan. Knights advanced, somewhat more cautiously.
“What good is one sword, even a flaming one, against a dozen knights?” Stan whispered to me. I’m sure that is what Morgan thought as well.
I spread the flames out into a circle around us at shield level, then gradually expanded the circle in both directions until I had a flame wall surrounding us completely. The knights, confused, stopped again and looked in Morgan’s direction.
Just as the pwca had not expected an improvised laser, Morgan had not expected what amounted to a force field. As she stared, I extended the flames over our heads, and the field was complete. Even a flying adversary, if Morgan had one up her sleeve, could not touch us without burning, and the flames burned so intensely now I could not imagine any knight jumping through them fast enough.
Unfortunately, the sword had not been forged with this kind of use in mind. I could feel the hilt starting to overheat in my hand, feel the sword start to draw magic faster than I could feed it. I could only keep this kind of barrier up a few minutes.
“Everyone, harmonize with him.” Everyone, even Stan, looked at Dan in surprise. They might have expected some defensive plan from him, but they could hardly have expected musical direction.
Stan joined in first. I don’t think he had much of a future as a cantor, but at least he reinforced my rhythm. I was singing in Welsh, but as there are no language barriers in faerie realms, someone
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