Chapter 56
It was almost three weeks after Gareth left before I was ready. I sent him a message via message box when I was close to done, and then I took up the subject of their visit with Penny.
I hadn’t expected any trouble from her quarter, but once again I had underestimated her perceptiveness.
“It would be nice to have them both for a week,” she answered when I brought the subject up, but something in her tone begged the question.
“But, what?” I asked. I should have known better.
She gave me a look that spoke volumes; I just wasn’t sure what language they were written in. Why couldn’t women be simpler?
“But, what?” I repeated, having exhausted my list of clever responses already.
“Nothing,” she said in the special tone she used that quite obviously meant the exact opposite.
Unsure what to do, I growled at her instead. It was a special technique I had learned over the years. When in doubt don’t try to get ‘smart’ with them. They just make you suffer more if you try to be rational. Forget the verbosity, and find your inner savage. They’ll often take pity and explain themselves if you do.
“If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t ask,” she said, giving me enough information to finally realize what she was getting at.
Early in our marriage I might have played dumb, replying with something like, ‘Tell you what?’ I had learned that lesson already, though. Instead I took the bull by the horns, “You’re referring to my special project?”
She nodded. “I’m sure you’ve drawn Gareth into whatever it is, as well as embroiling our children in it. I just wish you’d be more open with me.”
Given the events of the last year, I knew she deserved better, so I explained my idea in its entirety. I gave her the entire thing, hoping that she wouldn’t find something to object to in my scheme. When I had finished I added one caveat, “Please, don’t tell Moira.”
“Our Moira or Gareth’s?”
“Gareth’s,” I clarified.
“So you want to induct me into your secret and then exclude his wife? Is that really fair?” she asked.
“Gareth is uncertain how to approach her on the topic, so I offered to take her aside and explain,” I said.
She frowned, “Why not let me broach the subject?”
“She’s going to have some valid objections,” I explained, “but I think I can persuade her.”
“Alright,” she said without further argument.
I couldn’t quite believe in her easy acceptance, so I waited quietly for a minute or two.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked eventually.
“You aren’t going to try and talk me out of this?” I said narrowing my eyes in suspicion.
“No.”
“This could be dangerous,” I added.
“Mmm hmm,” she murmured, absently polishing some of our dishware. That was a clear sign that she felt the conversation was over, or at the very minimum, it no longer deserved the sort of attention that would slow her progress on her cleaning schedule any further.
“Even if I succeed, there could be far reaching consequences, not just for us, but for future generations,” I told her seriously.
“Very true.”
At that point I was certain she hadn’t really been listening, so I went for the preposterous, “I’m going to sacrifice our children and use their blood to fuel terrible dark magics.”
She raised one eyebrow, “Are you trying to get me to object?”
“Well, it’s what you do,” I admitted. “I don’t feel comfortable going forward if you don’t at least put up a token resistance.”
Penny gave me a long sigh, the kind she reserved for special moments of stupidity. Rolling her eyes upward, she spoke in a monotone, “Oh please, Mort, please don’t do this. For the sake of our children, don’t do this.” Switching back to her normal tone she added, “There, is that what you wanted? May I get back to what I was doing?”
“You didn’t mean that,” I notified her. “Not only that, but you’re undermining the foundations of our relationship. You’ve set me adrift in uncharted waters.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage somehow,” she replied acerbically.
I was agog at the way she dismissed my emotional distress. I let my mouth fall open dramatically to emphasize the feeling, since she clearly wasn’t getting it.
She graced me with another sigh. “If I argue with you, will it change anything?” she asked.
“Probably not,” I conceded.
“But if I just accept your plan, you’ll be riddled by self-doubt and second guess yourself?”
I nodded emphatically.
“Then it’s obviously the best thing I can do. If I argue you’ll do what you want and never look back, but if I don’t, you’ll rethink the whole thing. You might even consider deeper consequences, possibly improve your plan or reduce the risks. At the very least, you’ll be more prudent and less stupid,” she explained.
She had really thought this one through.
“We’ve been married for years now Mort, and one thing I’ve finally learned, is that if I want you to share your secrets, I need to be more accepting. If that also means you’ll think things through more carefully, then it’s a win-win,” she said.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Penny?” I said incredulously.
She smiled and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, dismissing me. “Go back to your work.”
I started to leave, but I stopped for a second, looking back.
“Enjoy second guessing yourself,” she added.
I shook my head and left. I’ll show her, I thought to myself. I’ll recklessly push forward, and to hell with the consequences. I won’t rethink a single thing!
It was empty bravado, though. After I sent the message inviting Gareth and Moira to stay with us, I spent the rest of the afternoon reconsidering my entire plan. Then I began rechecking all the work I had done. Penny really knew how to get under my skin sometimes. Before I was done, I did indeed change a few minor things and decided to add a few extra conditions to make sure my enchantment would continue to work even in the most unlikely situations I could imagine.
Women are evil, and my wife was chief among them.
***
Moira and Gareth arrived a few days later. In the past, Moira had been almost a member of the household, she was around so often, but since marrying we had only seen her twice, and only briefly on those occasions.
Penny set them up in the one guest bedroom we kept in our, no longer quite so secret, mountain cottage. We had a nice dinner and drinks afterward, indulging in small talk and letting the children entertain us with their antics.
It wasn’t until the next morning after breakfast that I took Moira Centyr aside and asked her if she would join me in my workshop. I chose that time of day since it gave us lots of time. Gareth had taken our older children out on the mountain to give them a lesson on the wildlife that lived in such areas. He had a unique perspective on it, since at one time or another he had actually transformed into many of the animals they could see out there.
The reality though, was that he wanted to be nowhere nearby when I broached the subject of my latest project with his wife.
“Penny mentioned last night that you’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time in here,” noted Moira as I let her in through the main door.
“That’s true,” I confessed, “but I actually have two reasons for bringing you here.”
“I could tell you had a lot on your mind,” she answered mildly. “What are those boxes?”
I took her closer, letting her examine the runes. “They should be somewhat familiar to you,” I said.
“Stasis boxes, why would you need so many, and why so small?” She looked confused.
“Let me start at the beginning,” I said and then I took my time explaining my plan. Her face grew darker as my plan unfolded, but she held her tongue until the end.
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“Did you learn nothing?! This is immoral, dangerous, and possibly the very definition of evil! You’re just repeating my mistake! You even have his memories, why would you do this?!” Her voice rose with each phrase.
By ‘his memories’, I knew she was referring to the first Mordecai, the one she had loved a thousand years before, the actual father of my daughter. He had been the one who had originally designed the ‘god-enchantment’ that they used to create the Shining Gods. “There are some substantial differences here,” I began, but she interrupted me.
“Yes!” she broke in, “Differences of scale. What you plan is even larger and more dangerous. Twenty-three! Why would you even consider such a thing?!”
“I’ve altered the enchantment in numerous ways, to create a system of safeguards, both for them and for us,” I explained. “Look here, do you see this part?”
“None of that makes sense,” she spat out angrily. “But it hardly matters, think of the suffering! Even if you thought this was safe for the people of this world, think of what you’re condemning them to endure. You were a victim of this sort of thing for a year; didn’t you learn anything from that?”
“It won’t be like that,” I reassured her. “They will be alive, in every sense of the word. They’ll grow and learn, just like…”
Her eyes grew wide. “You’re using her aren’t you? My daughter—your daughter, have you no shame? Do you think she has the slightest inkling what any of this means?”
In her anger, the forty-plus Celiors worth of aythar that Moira Centyr had stored within her began to leak out, creating an almost unbearable pressure. It was becoming an effort simply to breathe while standing in the same room with her.
“And when you say, ‘alive’, does that mean what I think it does? Have you dragged my own husband into this?!”
I couldn’t take much more. Even shielding my mind as strongly as possible, her aythar was crushing my will, and she was still containing most of it. I was no longer immortal as I had been when I faced Mal’goroth, nor did I have the sort of power to protect myself that I had had then. Thankfully, I had alternatives now.
As I had done with Celior long ago, I let my mind slip partly into the earth, gaining some respite from the unbearable power I was standing beside. Once I was able to think clearly, I uttered the words that would reinstate my control over Moira Centyr’s enchantment, binding her to my will once more.
“You dare!” she shouted, swelling until she threatened to destroy my small shop.
“Resume your normal size, and reign in your strength, you’re making it difficult to breathe,” I commanded. “You will do nothing else until I give you leave to act on your own again. Until then you will listen carefully to all that I say.”
She shrank back to her normal size, staring at me with fury in her eyes.
“First,” I told her, “We need to remove some of that power. It isn’t safe to store it in one location like that.”
Using short terse commands. I directed her to channel the aythar into the first of my temporary holding ‘cells’. In reality, it was the first of my new creations, but the power wouldn’t remain there permanently. I had a multitude of plans for how it would be divided up later.
It was a process that would take quite a while, considering how much aythar she had within her, so I used the time to explain the finer points of my plan. I hoped that once she understood the full depth of it, she might rethink her opposition to it.
I talked for over an hour and even went so far as to illustrate my words with visible illusions, so that she could see what I intended. When I had finished her fury was diminished, but she was still unhappy.
“Go ahead and talk,” I said, returning her power of speech.
“It is still wrong. You’ve done much to alleviate the worst of it, but it still isn’t right,” she said. “Look at me now, bound and helpless. This alone is proof.”
“I didn’t intend to do that,” I said honestly, “but you started leaking aythar when you got angry. I’m not sure if you realize how much power you were putting out a little while ago. It was enough that I feared for the safety of everyone in the house.”
“I would never hurt your family. That was unintentional,” she stopped, looking down before returning her gaze to me. “Do you think I am unstable now?”
Her question wasn’t rhetorical. Her expression told me she truly worried about it. My magical clone, Brexus, had shown every sign of slowly coming apart mentally, and he had barely been a year old. Moira Centyr, or rather the version of her in my home, was over a thousand years old. She had told me before that her creator had had unparalleled talent in making stable personalities, but the recently unmade Shining Gods were proof enough that her skills weren’t perfect.
“No more than I am, Moira. You were just angry.” I said, hoping to reassure her.
“Yet what you intend to do will only compound the risk that I represent,” she insisted.
“I believe it will work this way. They’ll remain stable.”
“You can’t know that,” she responded.
I walked closer, until we were almost nose to nose. “Moira, you trusted me enough to give me the care of your daughter. I lived a year as one of them, trapped within a monster that I thought was me, but wasn’t. I learned a lot, about both myself and the true nature of the god-enchantment. This will work, and if it doesn’t, I have the means to undo it, and so will the generations that follow.”
“You’re so much like him,” she said then, and I knew she was referring to the first Mordecai, the one she had loved so long ago. “He was arrogant and self-confident, and he turned out to be completely wrong.”
“I’ve learned from his mistakes,” I told her. “I can remember it. This time will be different.”
“It isn’t as though I have a choice,” she said bitterly.
She had finished transferring all but a small fraction of the power now, though she still held perhaps a half-Celior worth of aythar.
“You can stop now. Keep the power that remains,” I commanded.
“Whatever power I have, it doesn’t matter. I’m still your slave.”
“No,” I said then, “I give you your freedom. I only bound you to give you time to calm down. You can do as you wish now.”
“You can re-bind me with only a few words,” she challenged.
“I won’t,” I said again, “I just needed a chance to explain. If you insist, I’ll drop this project. I leave it in your hands.”
“Do you really mean that?” she asked, stepping close to the first stasis box. “You’d let me destroy this one?”
I was sweating now. She still had a half-Celior worth of power in her. There was no way I could prevent her from doing what she wished, short of rebinding her. I was betting she would see my side of it, but I couldn’t be sure. “I hope you won’t, but I’ll respect your wishes.”
She tensed for a moment, and then her shoulders sagged. “Fine, do as you will, but I want no part of it.”
I didn’t need her help for any of it, just her permission, otherwise Gareth would have refused to finish his portion of it. “I just wanted to ensure you would understand.”
“No,” she added, “That’s not what I mean. When I say I want no part in this, I mean I don’t want to know.”
“What?”
“I’ve been through this before, and my complicity then still fills me with guilt. I want no part in this. If you insist on going forward, I don’t want to know. Take the knowledge from me, leave me innocent,” she explained.
Technically, if you agree now, you’re still an accomplice, even if you don’t remember later, my sarcastic inner voice noted. I decided it wasn’t being helpful, so I kept that thought to myself. “I don’t think I can create a spell specific enough to clear just that knowledge from your mind.”
“You don’t have to,” she said carefully, “you can order it, remember?”
I understood immediately. The enchantment that bound her con
trolled her mind just as absolutely as it did her body. Though I had never considered using it in such a way, I knew she was right. “You’re sure?” I asked again, to clarify.
“I’ll give you the words. You just have to repeat them and make it an order.”
After a short discussion I gave her a pen and some parchment to be sure I got the order precisely as she wanted it. When she had finished writing I browsed it quickly before asking, “You really want this last part in there?”
“Yes.”
“Very well,” I said. “Moira Centyr, by the enchantment that binds you, I command you to forget what you have seen and heard in this room today. You will not think to be suspicious of our time together later, nor will you question me or anyone else on it. When the truth emerges at some point in the future, you will assume that I was the only one involved. You will never suspect Gareth’s involvement. If you become angry with me for it at that time, you will forgive me after a few days.”
I walked her out into the hall, watching her carefully for she seemed dazed.
“That’s odd,” she said. “I feel different. What happened to the aythar?” She looked around in confusion.
“I had you channel it into a storage vessel I had prepared,” I said, dancing around the truth. “You went too quickly I think. You passed out at the end. Don’t you remember?”
“Not really,” she replied. “It’s possible the rapid loss of aythar could cause memory loss,” she added, supplying her own excuse.
“You may be right,” I agreed. On the inside though I mourned, for it was as though a part of her had died, even if it was just an hour of her life gone. More than ever, that convinced me that my plan would work. Memories are at the heart of what we are made of, losing them is the same as dying.
Chapter 57
“It’s Sir Harold Simmons, my lady,” announced Rose Thornbear’s senior maid.
“Thank you, Angela. I have been expecting him,” answered Rose. “Please show him to the sitting room.”
Angela pursed her lips disapprovingly. She never liked to see Lady Rose meet with a man alone, even one of Sir Harold’s stature, but she knew better than to voice her opinion. “Very well, my lady.”