Prospero Regained (51 page)

Wonderful as it was to have us all working together again, my heart ached at the thought that Father was not to appreciate it.

And Erasmus was wrong, I thought as I drifted off again, I was perfectly good at fetching slippers. I had been doing it for Father for centuries.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Thy Mother Was a Piece of Virtue

I dreamt I danced with a man made of shadow, his black opera cape billowing about us in time to the music. In my dream, he kissed me and apologized for losing me. In the way of dreams, I knew he was wounded, though no wounds were visible.

The dream changed, and I danced with Ferdinand before the hearth in Prospero’s Mansion. Then, it changed again, and I danced with Astreus in a glade of ferns. Astreus pulled away and gazed about him, frowning.

“I thought I was dead.”

“You are,” I answered sadly. “This is your ghost.”

“Nay.” Astreus’s eyes were the somber purple of a late evening sky. “So, Seir has called me up, has he? More the fool! He may not find me so easy to put down again.” He looked at me, as if only now noticing that I was present. “To what purpose did he call me? To dally with you?”

“To beguile me,” I replied firmly, pushing him away. “To confound and confuse me. But I am not fooled, Seir of the Shadows. You may take any guise you please; I shall not trust you again!”

“Indeed.” Astreus’s eyes sparkled a merry green. “A wise course for a mortal maid: to never leave yourself unguarded, never offer your heart. And you shall reap the harvest you sow. You shall go to your grave, safe and unmourned, finding eternal repose beneath the epitaph: ‘She trusted no one.’ Oh, how wise the daughter of Prospero; how wise and how alone.”

*   *   *

I AWOKE
to find my family preparing to cast a spell. Pentagrams and triangles had been drawn into the snow. All our staffs had been thrown into a pile; they had even taken my flute. Mephisto still wore his handcuffs, but the part that had held his staff now dangled, empty. The only person still who had not been disarmed was Caliban, who sat with his club leaning against his knees.

Mab stood guard over me; a smile of delight crossed his craggy face when he saw I was awake. I rose gingerly and found that, though my head was sore, I could see clearly again.

“Glad to see you up and about!” Theo leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Offering me his hand, he helped me to my feet.

Logistilla was addressing the others, waving her arms about in great gesticulations. “We’ll never make it. The Hellwinds will get us again, and again, and again, until we all die and are tortured here for real.”

“Not to worry, we have a solution to the Hellwinds…” Erasmus called, from where he was putting the finishing touches on one of the summoning triangles. Then, he paused, raising a finger. “Oh, wait … requires use of the
Staff of Darkness
. No. You’re right, Sister. We’re doomed.”

“So, what have you all done while I slept?” I asked, as I shook out my hair and took a stab at straightening it with a comb from my bag.

Mab was chomping on a carrot. “Prepared the Professor’s spell to save your Father.”

“Save Father?” I cried out, my forgotten comb flying from my hands. Ulysses politely fetched it for me. “We’ve found a way?”

“Erasmus says he has,” Logistilla replied, “but he won’t tell the rest of us what it is.”

Mab scratched his eternal stubble. “Just in case this spell doesn’t work, Ma’am. I think you should know that I investigated the matter of how Lilith managed to set up that trap for your Father. Turns out the Perp gave them the hairs.”

“In my defense,” Ulysses said, sitting down beside me on one of the outstretched sleeping bags. “They were going to kill me if I didn’t. It was an easy matter to get the hairs. I came by, visited each sibling, touched the ground, teleported back in the dark of the night, and stole a few from a brush in the bathroom. Theo, Erasmus, and Cornelius were the most difficult. Being familiar with magic, they guarded themselves, but eventually I outwitted … I worked it out.”

I looked nervously at my comb, wrapped my hair up as it was, and pinned it behind my head.

Ulysses continued, “At the time, I thought the fact that my life was in danger justified everything. Now that I’ve seen Father in action—I mean, the Gov’nor’s willing to die rather than let the demons go…” He hung his head sheepishly, “I realize I’ve been a royal git.”

Logistilla patted his hand. “Don’t despair. Father knew you’d grow up eventually.”

“Point is, Ma’am, Ulysses got your hair instead of Caliban’s—him not knowing which demon was in which staff and all.” Mab looked down at his fedora, which he was worrying between his fingers. “I … er … I thought you should know, seeing as Mr. Prospero is your father and all.”

“Spirit-man, I would thank you to keep your wild hunches to yourself!” Logistilla huffed. “We don’t understand a word you are saying!”

But I did. I understood exactly.

*   *   *

I MUNCHED
on the few remaining carrots and tried to stay out from underfoot. I sat upon a blanket, which did little to protect me from the icy chill of the glacier, my most-recent dream weighing upon my thoughts. Were I to trust it, I might allow myself to hope. But that could not be.

Still, Astreus’s taunt about not trusting had struck home. How had he known my thoughts? Oh, because I had told him.

And because it was a demon’s duty to sow doubt and fear.

The dull ache in my heart became an open, gaping wound that threatened to tear apart my whole being. Disgusted, I reminded myself coldly that even had none of this happened, there would never have been a chance for us. Humans did not mesh with elves. Astreus would never have been happy living in the mortal world. As for me, I could hardly leave Prospero, Inc., to go gallivanting about with elves—no matter how much I might wish otherwise …

No, better that I mourn him, than that I tempt myself with false hopes and fall prey to Seir’s machinations again.

Of course, Seir had come to rescue me. Could that mean there was some truth to his claim that Astreus’s affection for me lived on in his dark heart?

I shook my head, amazed at my own schoolgirl-like naiveté. What incubus would not come when called by a woman he pursued? His coming signified nothing.

*   *   *

ERASMUS
came over to where the rest of us were gathered. “Everything’s ready to save Father. Only, I need a volunteer and … an ounce of Water.”

“An ounce!” we all cried.

“A whole ounce? That’s at least forty drops!” I declared. “Would Father want that, under the circumstances? He ordered us to leave him.”

“Forty drops could keep one of us hale and strong for forty years, twice or three times that if we ingested it sparingly.” Cornelius spoke up from where he had sat in quiet meditation. “That was eighty or even a hundred and twenty more years that Father’s projects could be watched over and brought to fruition. Eighty to a hundred years more guiding the
Orbis Suleimani
and making sure they are on the right path. Which would Father want more? His life? Or another century for one of us?”

“But he told us not to…” I began and then let my voice trail off.

Theo frowned down at me. “You’re only saying that because you are under a spell.”

I swayed and sat down, startled.

Was that true? It certainly did not sound like me to argue in favor of abandoning Father. What was I thinking?

And yet, it seemed so obvious. Father had told us to leave. It was his last wish. He wanted his family to survive and carry on. We should not do anything that endangered our ability to carry out that last wish.

I frowned, remembering the false voices in the City of Dis. I turned to Gregor to ask him to put up the zone of silence briefly, so that I could determine whether or not these thoughts were intrusions such as we heard in Dis. Just as my mouth opened, I remembered that he could not use his staff.

I felt certain, absolutely certain, this was the right course … in exactly the same way I had felt certain, during the Great Fire of London, that I should remain in the house—even though all London was burning—because Father had told me to mind it until he returned.

Oh my.

“It’s not a spell, it’s an imprinting,” Logistilla declared. She lay with her head in Titus’s lap.

“How do you know?” asked Theo.

“It must be so.” Logistilla spoke to the rest of us like a schoolmarm addressing her charges. “Remember when Theo asked if Miranda was under a spell? Father said the answer was obvious. Well, I’ve been thinking: what about the situation would Father consider obvious? I believe I have figured out what he meant.

“I’ve looked into the Unicorn quite a bit you know,” she continued primly. “I, too, considered joining her service once. Miranda could not possibly be under a spell that controlled her free will—not while serving the Lady of Free Will, Herself. Any such spell would have broken long ago. I’m sure that is what Father meant when he said it was obvious. No, if Miranda cannot disobey Father, it is not because of a spell!”

Gregor spoke in his hoarse grave tones. “Angels have no free will of their own. Their attention is fixed upon God, and they take their instructions directly from the Lord. Fallen angels are angels who have become twisted, so that they are fixed only upon themselves. Nephilim, partaking of both human and angelic nature, must become fixed upon some outward thing. Because God is not visible to them, they pick some other being or element from their environment.

“Historically, most nephilim have fixed upon Lilith, which is what led to their great excesses and, subsequently, the Flood.”

“God’s teeth!” Theo slapped the ice beside him. “Then, Miranda is not under a spell at all! She’s merely ‘fixed’—‘imprinted,’ perhaps, would be a better word—upon Father!”

Cornelius spoke softly. “If Miranda is indeed such a creature, it is likely that Father consecrated her to Eurynome in hopes that she would imprint upon the Unicorn. Perhaps, he was too late.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.” Theo laughed as if a burden had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. “I hated thinking Father had done her harm.”

A sudden rush of joy filled me. I recalled the hope that had come when the little silver star had balanced on Mab’s palm. Astreus, as both himself and the false Ferdinand, had spoken of how I might be like the angels, who never swerve from their duties because they see only the virtuous course. Certainly, such a fate would be preferable to being ensorcelled.

I had experienced so many twists and upsets lately that I hesitated to rejoice. Still, I felt very glad that I had never quite stopped believing in Father.

Gregor stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “It pains me to bring up an unpleasant subject, but can we trust Miranda?”

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, quite astonished.

Gregor inclined his head to me, “I mean no disrespect, Sister, nor do I doubt your intention. It is your heritage that concerns me. Do we know for certain that Lilith does not have some kind of control over Miranda? If Miranda obeys Father, and Father is gone, will she obey his order to listen to her brothers? Or will she revert to some earlier childhood memory and begin listening to the commands of her vile mother?”

“This is ridiculous,” Theo interrupted. “Miranda is not a doll!”

“Isn’t she?” Logistilla asked. “Why else did she haunt the
castello
for fifteen years without talking to anyone? I think she’s very much like a wind-up toy. Gregie-Poo is just asking: ‘Who is winding her up?’”

“I wish you would not call me that,” Gregor sighed, resigned.

“I am not a doll!” I insisted. “Nor am I going to do anything that would betray my family—no matter who my mother is!”

“You mean, ‘not on purpose,’” Erasmus said.

“You’re one to talk,” I spat back at him.

“I may be an ass, true, but that doesn’t mean you’re not something worse. I saw your face when that horrid plant was trying to eat me. You were glad. You just stood there and watched me get dragged down, laughing.”

“That’s not true!” Mab leapt to my defense. “Miss Miranda jumped right in after you, as did Mr. Gregor!”

“Yup, that’s right,” Mephisto chimed in. “She grabbed Soupy’s tail and went right into the soup—only it was black, more like black bean broth. Anyway, whatever it was, she went right in, while Mab and I took a nap. I love you, too, Brother, but I was tired.” He put his hands together, lay his head against them, and made snoring noises.

I chuckled at Mephisto’s antics and then turned to Erasmus. “I admit I did not react immediately. It was not one of my best days. Especially, as you had been so quick to save me. But in my defense, you are a seasoned warrior, while I am a woman who prays and plays a flute.”

To my surprise, Erasmus threw back his head and laughed. “You have me there. I’ve trained enough rookies to know that the skill of acting under pressure is one that must be learned. I had no idea you dived in after me. I’m touched.” He did not look touched, but he kept smiling.

“She found you, too,” Gregor said kindly. He did not add that he had rescued Erasmus’s arm.

“As to the Water”—Cornelius stood up; Erasmus moved to take his arm—“it’s up to Mephisto. He is currently the head of the family.”

“That’s right, Miranda!” Mephisto declared, “When Daddy’s not here, I’m in charge, and Daddy told Miranda to obey me … or her brothers anyway, and that includes me. So, I’ve decided. We spend the wet and save Daddy!”

“Wonderful.” Erasmus turned to Caliban. “How much time do we have left?”

Caliban inclined his head to the club. “What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock
P.M.
You have two hours until midnight,”
replied the voice of King Vinae.

Erasmus turned and smirked at me. “And just so that you don’t need to worry about being left out because you mother’s a demon, Miranda, you can be the volunteer.”

*   *   *

WE
rose to go to our places. The thought that we might be able to save Father after all brought hope to my heart and lent a lightness to my step. Maybe, things were just not as bad as I had feared.