Chapter 11

Valorie was in a funk, and for once, Maggie couldn't bring her out of it. With voluntary participation from Charlie, Scheris, Annemarie and Hannity, they'd recorded the energy given off by healing spells in the hope that the information could lead to the invention of a healing machine. The recordings were different every time. It certainly seemed as though every mage had a different signature, every patient had different energies, and every kind of injury required a different interaction between the two for healing to take place. All in all, the complications were frustrating to the twins. Maggie and Felice cleaned the lab when they noticed that Valorie had nodded off. No matter how much she wanted to join her sister, however, Maggie knew that some things had to take priority. Besides, she'd been having odd dreams lately.

Valorie awoke with a startled cry, mumbling about a hand reaching out for her. Felice and Maggie were quickly at her side to comfort her.

"Something is amiss?" Clement called from above, his boots on the stairs leading to the basement barely touching longer than a tap dancer's heels.

"The dream again. I've been having the same one." Maggie said. Clement looked with pity on the twins, then drew them into his arms for comfort. Felice announced she was going to be helping Queen Gwendolyn and went upstairs. Clement led the twins to his own room, where he offered the sort of comfort a man could offer a woman when mere cuddling was insufficient. Half an hour later, all were sleeping dreamlessly.

Camber inched along the front of the couch, his little fingers holding tightly to the cushion seams. Amelie watched enchantedly through the lens of her camera. He reached out his hand to grab hold of the easy chair, but it wasn't quite close enough. With a frustrated grunt, he let go of the couch and took two unaided steps before flopping half on the chair. He grunted and pulled himself back up, panting.

"Good job, baby!" Amelie cheered. Camber turned his head and smiled.

"Mama mama mama!" he babbled, inching along the chair in her direction. She set the camera down, pointed in his general direction, and placed herself two tantalizing steps away from the chair's support, arms out. He toddled into her arms and she caught him before he could fall. She hugged him against her and kissed him repeatedly while he laughed happily. She used a little magic to make a shiny bauble float just above head-level for him. She pushed it gently toward a corner, and he toddled after it, falling every few steps but getting up to resume the chase. A tumbling sound heralded the arrival of Felix, who was learning to negotiate the steps. The cat-boy shook off his tumble and toddled to join Camber's game.

"Felix!" the Chelseas called, concerned for the baby, but Felix was tough--or hard-headed, depending on who you asked, and was quickly up and going again. His sisters descended more carefully, and in reverse. Smith was glad she had only one, a boy she'd named Taylor, too young for such adventures as yet. Sanna was thoroughly smitten with her little Ibrahim, and Kamilah dutifully took care of the daughter she'd presented to Charlie. He'd named her after his mother, Charlene. Hilda, in turn, had given birth to a son she named Wilhelm. Fortunately, he was now much more careful about getting his women pregnant.

He came home to ecstatic cries from women and children, and his own smile answered them. He hugged each of them and lay down on the couch so the kids could crawl all over him. Camber and Felix babbled incessantly, competing for their father's attention as brothers will. The phone rang, and Amelie answered.

"Lobo residence." she said.

"Amelie?" The voice was that of Charlie's grandfather, Curtis. "You-Know-Who is up to his tricks again. We need to grab some of my stuff from storage quickly. We're bringing the wizards of the pool house."

"Right." she said. "I'll get Charlie, and we'll be there soon."

"Who was it?" Charlie asked.

"It's your grandfather." Amelie said. "He-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named is up to more assholery, and Curtis wants to snatch his stuff out of You-Know-Who's grasp."

"Right." Charlie said. The kids were scooped off their father, despite their protestations.

"Take care, Master." Amelie said, kissing him.

"Likewise." he told her. It had been months since their last trouble with the Fell, and he wasn't foolish enough to think they'd given up. He'd been having strange dreams lately, which none of his sources had found an explanation for.

Curtis handed Charlie the key to his storage units as the pickup backed up to the door. Charlie got out via the driver's-side door as the second vehicle pulled up to the second unit. Charlie tossed that key to Artus Myrdhynn, who opened it carefully.

"Your grandfather's instinct is remarkable." Brutus said to Charlie, examining the contents of the storage unit. "Oh!" His eyes had wandered upward, where a sticker with strange characters on it was adhered to the inside of the door. "Very, very good! Where did you find containment sutras?"

"Some old guy in New York's Chinatown." Curtis answered. "Seemed like a good idea to put something up to hold in the bad mojo coming off that stuff."

"'Bad mojo' indeed." Artus murmured. "It's a good thing you didn't try to use any of this." He looked around in the unit Charlie was unloading. "This stuff should be safe enough."

"Uh ... help, I'm stuck!" Thomas called from the rear window of the truck. Charlie sighed and pushed his brother back inside.

"You're not a little kid anymore, Thomas." Charlie said. "Use the door."

"Fine." Thomas said, crawling out like a hermit crab from a too-small shell. He took a look at himself as he stretched. He hadn't noticed how much broader his shoulders had become. He helped his brothers transfer the less-dangerous objects from storage, while the Myrdhynns loaded the dark stuff Curtis had sealed away in the other unit. A car arrived late in the loading, and guys in suits got out.

"Excuse us, gentlemen, but we have to insist you cease and desist in this theft of our employer's property." the driver said, pulling a pistol from his breast pocket. Charlie glared, and the man's sleeve caught fire. Charlie settled the wardrobe he and Thomas had been shifting and hopped down.

"You'd better get going while you still can." Charlie threatened. The other three pulled their own weapons. Charlie gave them a light dose of lightning that left them twitching on the ground. The burned one growled and tried to tackle him, but took a blast of icy air that sent him flying. Charlie touched the foreheads of each of the incapacitated goons, muttering a spell under his breath.

"What was that?" Harold, Jr. asked.

"Memory spell." Charlie responded. "They won't wake up for a few hours, and they won't remember diddly for the past hour."

"Good work." Artus said. They finished loading and moved the goons and their car out of the way. Charlie felt a prickle of the senses which told him that someone with the mage-gift was approaching. Mumbling a spell under his breath, he conjured an image in the air before him--his asshole uncle surrounded by a semi-transparent representation of a black Lexus.

"He's coming." Charlie said, banishing his image. He reached into his backpack and pulled out Tashi Myrdhynn's grimoire. Sensing his intentions, the spirit inside obligingly opened to the proper page. The spell was in ancient Celtic, and he was grateful for Annemarie's help in that language as he called forth weather-elementals to "prevent the harm his uncle brought." Thus given their mission, the elementals took form, like anime girls superimposed on the real world at 90% transparency, then swirled off to do his bidding. A thunderhead boiled into existence, and the two vehicles drove off in the opposite direction, though it meant a long detour, it was worth it as hailstones large enough for Charlie to pick out individuals from the stream began to pelt road between hunter and hunted.

Men and women in the robes of Myrdhynns awaited them as they returned to Charlie's parents' house. The other truck with the darker cargo stopped before it reached the property, and the Myrdhynns took charge of it. Artus and Brutus made for a sweat lodge to purify themselves. Something niggled at the back of Charlie's mind, but he was far too tired to puzzle it out now. He seated himself on the couch, and was soon horizontal.

The dream started again. A female voice calling his name, a hand marked with the Mark of Atlantis reaching out from a cold, empty void. There was a pleading note to the voice this time, and Charlie reached out, grasping the hand. His eyes snapped open as he felt his magical reserves being drained. Suddenly, there was a woman on top of him, her clothes centuries out of date and her skin as cold as if she'd just come in out of a blizzard.

"Thank you, Charlie." the woman whispered weakly, and then both of them lost consciousness.

When Charlie awoke, he was in his old bed. Amelie was in a chair next to the bed, her sleeping head pillowed on crossed arms on his blanket. He stroked her crimson hair gently, and she stirred. "Master!" she whispered joyously. She stood up and grunted as she discovered a cramp in her side and a crick in her back. Charlie reached out to draw in magical energy, for his own reserves were drained. He mumbled a healing spell, and Amelie sighed in relief. Then, he crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom. Amelie helped him get through the portal back to Spain, and they promptly ended up in bed without bothering to lock the door. Camber padded in just as Charlie was getting comfortable.

"Hey, munchkin." he said affectionately, helping the baby crawl into bed. He and Amelie nodded off with Camber happily chattering between them. His next awakening saw him much stronger than before. He carried Camber downstairs, where he found Steve and Claudia helping with the kids.

"Hey, dude, I heard you were wiped!" Steve said. "What happened?"

"Someone needed my help to get out of ... wherever she was." Charlie responded.

"You sure she's not a bad one?" Steve asked. "Not that you can't handle the bad ones, especially if they're hot, but..."

"She had the Mark of Atlantis in her palm, and the Crystal doesn't mark bad people." Charlie said. He put Camber in his high chair and fastened him in, while the boy repeated "Dada" over and over again. Charlie managed to get some food into Camber's mouth, though most of it ended up on the high chair and bib.

Once they were both cleaned up, Camber refused to allow himself to be put down, so Charlie took the baby with him through the gate to his parents' house. There, he found the mysterious woman waiting for him. Valorie and Maggie sat nearby, with Clement, who had brought Hannity to teach her English by magical means, since it was a language everyone present spoke. Charlie noticed that she wore the robes of a Myrdhynn.

"I'm glad you're well." the woman said. "My name is Marilyn Lobo, and I'm very grateful to you for bringing me out of that null-dimension."

"Didn't you call me?" Charlie asked. "In the dream..."

"I've been calling to all of my blood relations since Morganna was brought out by her Order, which weakened the seal so that I could get a message out, but you were the first one to try ... and at one point I was rather pointedly rebuffed."

"Don't tell me ... the Fell Order M'rdread?" Charlie groaned. Marilyn nodded.

"So ... we're related?" Maggie asked.

"Now I have another reason to be glad I didn't have the same dreams." Clement murmured, which got the twins cuddling with him.

"So, who's Morganna?" Charlie asked.

"My stepsister--which is why I limited the calling to blood relatives. I'm sorry, I should start at the beginning. As I said, my name is Marilyn Lobo, though I had other surnames before that. In the Order of Merlin, I was Rowan Myrdhynn--one of the better teachers and fighters in the Order if I do say so myself. In the year 1477, I married my first husband--a sweet man who was very, very sensitive to magic though he had little talent for using it--in response to one of my rare foresight dreams, and was semi-retired from the Circle. The next year, the Inquisition came, ostensibly to catch conversos who had secretly relapsed to Judaism and Islam, but they were more than happy to use the excuse to burn a few 'witches.' They caught us with a resin mixture from a confiscated grimoire, which prevented us from using magic to escape. My husband held them off long enough for me to get away on foot. I wasn't given time to wash the resin off; the hunters harried me to exhaustion. By chance, I found a gap in the wall around a sympathizer's home--Tomás Lobo. He took me in and hid me in a secret room with several conversos. He kept me safe and saw me safely delivered of my daughter. By then, we had fallen in love, and he adopted her and married me. To protect my new family, I had to block off my magical abilities, to be reawakened only in direst peril, because the Church apparently had the means to detect those with the gift. Tomás gave me four children, three sons and another daughter, and I settled into my new life.

"My oldest was fifteen when my stepsister, Morganna, reentered my life. We'd been rivals since childhood, and she hated everything I stood for, so when I had gone to the Myrdhynns for training, she sought training elsewhere--with the Fell Order M'rdread. We each rose through the ranks in our respective Orders, I attained a place in Merlin's Circle, and she slew her master and took over. Now, as I came to cherish my family, Morganna appeared with six M'rdread adepts, and only the danger provision in my spell saved us from extermination on the spot. I sent Tomás and the children home and fought harder than I ever had. Morganna had never fought fair, so when her followers lay broken on the field, she decided to try banishing me to a limbo-realm where I would be no threat to her, knowing that I didn't have the strength to block or dispel her magic. Instead, I fed my remaining power into her spell, expanding it to envelop her as well, bringing her with me. There we remained until the Fell brought her out, weakening the seal so I could call out for release as well."

She sighed, and accepted a glass of iced tea from Charlie's father. When she was able to speak again, Charlie asked what Morganna looked like. Marilyn conjured an image of a woman with straight blood-colored hair, her bangs rigidly straight above her eyebrows. She wore the familiar attire of the Fell Order M'rdread over form-fitting black armor with spiked nipples. The armor wasn't the sexy kind found in role-playing games, but actually covered her from the neck down. Her face would have been pretty if she wasn't scowling.

"I need a place to rest." Marilyn said tiredly, dissipating her illusion. "It will be some time before I'm ready to fight again."

"I'll check my wife's real estate portfolio." Charlie said.

"Are you sure that's wise?" his father asked. "These guys know you, so they might have your wife's houses watched."

"Good thinking." Charlie conceded. "Marilyn, you'll probably be safer with other Myrdhynns nearby to back you up until we can arrange another safehouse." Marilyn nodded, and sagged. Charlie was feeling pretty saggy himself, but he managed to get back home without incident.

Venna, Sheena and Albina were cleaning. He got them to help him upstairs. Albina nuzzled his hand lovingly. Her mind had broken under the onslaught of pleasure and her own amplified magic when she had worn Charlie's enchanted robe. Her resistance had broken so suddenly that her sense of self had shattered. It had taken time to gather enough shards of her mind so she could live a useful life. She still had memories of her old self, but they had no more personal connection to her than a historical figure she'd read about in some dusty book. Charlie had done nothing to discourage Albina's dissociation from her past, and had even started calling her Ivory instead of Albina. "Ivory," for her part, disliked what she knew of the Albina persona, since it was so different from her new self. Sanna had suggested removing the Albina memory-remnants and storing them elsewhere for the Myrdhynns to sift through at leisure--a procedure Ivory was eager for, if it would get rid of "the evil ghost in her mind."

"Master." she purred.

"I'm tired, Ivory-doll. Go finish your chores and we'll see if I feel better later." She genuflected before leaving.

"I exist only for your desire, Master." she said as she backed out. He saw the other ex-M'rdread out before he flopped backward onto his bed and fell asleep.

Thomas watched Joannie fighting with her boyfriend from across the courtyard. She was in his class, and way out of her boyfriend's league. Looking at him, it was easy to believe that humans and Neanderthals had inter-bred, because this specimen was definitely from knuckle-dragging stock. The problem was that there was intense pressure for the prettiest girl in school to date the football hero--as if she was a fish to be tossed to a performing bear. This particular bear liked to play with his food.

Thomas intended to put a stop to that. Armed with the jeweled pendant he'd been given at Charlie's wedding, he thought he had a good chance of succeeding. The fight ended with Joannie running into the girls' bathroom, streaming tears like a lawn sprinkler. Thomas tailed her boyfriend, putting on the mirrored "alien eyes" sunglasses he'd bought at Wal-Mart.

"What do you want, shrimp?" the Neanderthal grunted when he noticed he was being followed. There was nobody around, so Thomas figured this was as good a place as any.

"That's like a blue whale calling a humpback 'shrimp.'" Thomas responded. "I may not be as big as you, but that's no reason to call names, tard." His foe whirled and launched into his intimidation routine. Thomas held up the crystal, spinning it slightly. The bully's face slackened as his eyes locked on the crystal held just outside of Thomas' field of vision. He put it away. "You will not go near Joannie again, nor will you make any attempt to contact her, nor will you make any attempt to have anyone else contact her or do anything to her on your behalf. If you don't understand any of the words I've said to you, you will look them up. You will not consciously remember anything that's happened since you noticed I was here, but you will do everything I've told you anyway. Now, turn around and wake up." Thomas made himself scarce. He didn't see Joannie again until it was time to go home. In fact, it was because of his little "talk" with her now-ex-boyfriend that she was there at all--he had been her ride to school. "Joannie! Hi! Problem?"

"Oh, Thomas! Um, I'm ... just waiting on ... my parents." she stammered--which she only did when she was lying.

"Well, I'm sure glad I caught you." Thomas said. "I think you dropped this." She looked, and was ensnared by the crystal. "Follow me." he said. She did, shambling helplessly behind him. He led her to the lab and jimmied the door open with his library card. He led her inside and closed the door behind them. There was a thick, heavy blanket for smothering fires that fire extinguishers would only spread, and he laid this out on the floor, folded in half to enhance what little softness there was, out of sight of the door's little window. "Take your clothes off and lie on the blanket, Joannie." he said. Helplessly, she obeyed. He sat down on the cold floor next to her, then kissed her unresponding lips. Under the crystal's influence, she had a peaceful, open and trusting look on her face. Her ex had merely looked like a moron. He pushed that thought out of his mind and went on. "Joannie, you no longer have to be trapped in a relationship with an abusive man. The other girls in school no longer have any control over who you date. You do not obey them. You obey me. You desire me. I am your sexual ideal. Nothing I tell you to do will or can seem wrong or strange to you. You love me totally and completely, and you will do anything I want. You will give yourself to me, and let me guide you. You will be my adoring love-slave, and love every moment of it. In private, you may call me Master, but if there is a chance we may be overheard, you will keep our secret, because you know that if anyone knew, they would take me away and you would be alone. Now, when I snap my fingers, you will awaken." He snapped his fingers, and she blinked for the first time since he'd shown her the crystal.

"Master?" she asked. He kissed her on the mouth, and she moaned. His lips migrated over her body, kissing every inch of her, even on her pussy lips. His eyes drank in her form, from her soft brown hair and eyes, over her small but pert breasts and shapely hips, down her long, smooth legs to her toes, and his hands caressed her, exciting her and making her tremble--or was she just cold? "Master..." she moaned. Thomas took his clothes off, putting them on the opposite side of the pallet from hers. His penis slid into her very wet opening, and she gripped the fire blanket beneath her while she clenched in orgasm. "Yes! Yes, Master! Take me, claim me, I'm yours!" she exclaimed. He sucked her nipples one at a time while she rode the roller coaster of pleasure beneath him, his cock pumping into her strongly. He could feel his balls queuing up a load of sperm and tried to hold back, to prolong this encounter as long as possible, but her vaginal muscles were doing wonderful things to his cock, and his breath caught in his throat as he went off, his hips shoving him as far into her as possible to fire his seed deep into her womb. Joannie came again, ecstatic that she had pleased him. He lay down on top of her and nodded off, still inside her.

Joannie lay under her new Master and wept happily. Without saying a word, Master had made her feel beautiful and loved. Her heart drank in his affection and attention like a desert flower soaking up the meager rains. Even as his love-slave and sexual plaything, she had value in his eyes. She basked in the joy of her new reality, vowing silently to be the best slave-girl any hypnotist ever had. Strange that she knew her feelings were artificial--at least partially--but didn't care in the slightest. She heard something--the opening of one of the outside doors. She kissed her Master adoringly and gently shook him awake. He mumbled sleepily.

"Master!" she whispered. "Master, someone's coming! We'll be caught!" He came awake just then. They both shivered as his cock emerged from her depths. They hurried to get dressed and put the blanket back. She led him to the other side of the lab from where the noise had come, and they slipped out just as the janitor's key rasped in the lock.

"There you are! Where have you been?" his mother asked when they got to the parking lot.

"Helping Joannie." Thomas said. Joannie smiled shyly. "She's just been through a nasty break-up, and her so-called 'friends' are no help at all." Thomas added. His mother, noticing the moisture on Joannie's cheeks, sighed.

"I'm sorry I got angry." she said.

"It's all right." Joannie replied.

"Is it okay if we drop her off at her house, Mom?" Thomas asked. "Her ... ex ... was her ride, and the busses are already gone."

"All right, this time." his mother said.

"Thanks, Mom!" Thomas said, hugging her. He and Joannie got into the back and rolled the windows down, which they both hoped would keep any untoward smells from reaching the older woman--they'd been fortunate enough to stand downwind during the initial confrontation, but Charlie had given everyone in the family a necklace with the symbol from his tattoo on it as a protection, so Thomas couldn't use the crystal to get out of trouble.

Interesting how casually he thought of using the crystal now, after just two uses. He'd avoided doing it until now, but he thought he could handle it. Joannie put her hand on his, below the level where his mother would see in the rear view mirror. She gave directions, and they were at Joannie's place all too soon. It was a quaint little house, probably two-bedroom. Joannie invited them in, but Thomas' mother demurred, saying that she had to get Thomas home so she could go to work. Joannie gave Thomas her cell number so he could call her.

"Front seat, kiddo." his mother said as Joannie went into the house. Thomas obeyed, fastening his seatbelt even though he hated the way it rubbed his neck. She backed out of the driveway and turned the car homeward. "She likes you, and you like her. Neither one of you is enough of an actor to hide it from anyone but yourselves." she said bluntly.

"You don't miss much." Thomas responded, knowing better than to argue.

"Damn right." she said. She pulled into a small drug store and told him to wait there. When she came out again, she tossed a white plastic bag into his lap. A rectangular shape inside poked him square in the crotch. He peered inside and his face burned with a fiery blush.

"MOM!" he squeaked, staring in horror at the box of condoms inside ("ribbed for her pleasure" written in one corner). His mother had a wicked glint in her eye.

"What? I know what kind of self-control you kids have. I raised you, didn't I? No preaching, just wait till she's eighteen before you knock her up, that's all I ask." With that, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home. Once there, Thomas took the box, wrapped up as tightly in the bag as possible, and hid it in his sock drawer.

Morganna was well pleased with herself. Despite the lingering aftereffects of her long imprisonment--a shame that rankled even now--she had managed to resist the attempts of the fool who had taken over the Order to take her over as well, and now she stretched luxuriously in the quarters reserved for the Master of the M'rdread. Albina's belongings had been spirited away not long after she had been, so the contents were all contributed by her so-called successor, who now licked Morganna's armored boots, his white, empty eyes seeing nothing.

Her enemy's descendant was prospering. That rankled even more than the imprisonment. For someone who had started his magical training in his twenties, he was learning quickly and growing stronger. The incompetents that made up the present Order had failed to stop him before, afraid of his vindictive imagination. If he wasn't so tainted by foolish notions of "right" and "wrong," he might make a good apprentice--with the proper protections placed in his mind against rebellion. It was a shame to waste such talent, but a talented enemy was not to be tolerated.

Perhaps his niece, though ... the child Akiko was young enough to be twisted to her ends, and carried even more potential than Charlie. The potential wasn't present in similar magnitude in her brother Jounochi, but Kumoko's latest pregnancy showed great promise--and there was a completely virgin mind to be darkened, should her efforts with Akiko fail. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a feral smile. She shifted position, her boot catching her slave's nose and bloodying it.

"Go get that fixed." she snarled. "I won't have your blood on my carpet!" The mindless male crawled away to obey. She sighed and tried to cast her vision to the future, but it was hard to see.

"I see that you are still the same as ever, Morganna." a familiar voice said from the shadows. Morganna whirled on the intruder, dark magic crackling at her fingertips. "Temper, temper. Is that the way to greet an old friend?" Morganna glared, her eyes flicking a measuring glance over her "guest." He was much the same as the last time she'd seen him, centuries ago. The body was that of a Drow, an Elf tainted by dark powers, who increase those powers by spreading evil and suffering. The soul, however, was that of the infamous Mordred, who had mortally wounded King Arthur and been slain by him. Refusing to relinquish his hold on the Earth plane, he had wandered bodiless until he had met a tribe of Drow, who resurrected him in a Drow's body.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Dear Morganna, where is your subtlety? Your patience?"

"Your 'gifts' always come with a price, Mordred. I would know it before I agree to anything, especially after the last time."

"You're the one with the Sight, my pet." Mordred purred, his lips peeling back from piranha-like teeth. "I have never laid claim to such gifts as that. But even you failed to foresee that she would increase the power of your own spell when she perceived that she couldn't defeat it. You can't blame me for your imprisonment. I merely provided you with information that your, heh, beloved stepsister had blocked off her own powers to hide from the Church. I certainly had nothing to gain by your absence these many, many years. Albina was not your equal."

"And what were you doing all this time? Not working to free me, I take it."

"For such as I, there is always work to do." Mordred said. "Remember that our power comes from the misery of mortals. There's always someone whose power needs to be twisted for our use. A politician, a wealthy businessman, a religious authority, or even just a charismatic man people will follow. Conquest-based religions are our bread and butter." Morganna glared at him. He chuckled and untied the pouch from his belt, tossing it to her. She caught it automatically, and peered inside.