Lamma's Night (anthology)

'Always happy to aid and abet,' said Jemuel, but by then Miranda was already on her way out.

Miranda heard the ducks at the pond and placed her hands on the well. Her mind burrowed down deep, down the slimy bricks into the dank water far below. She gasped as she made contact and finally spoke, 'Stephen.'

There was something like the drawing of breath, ethereal. 'Miranda.'

'I thought it was you in your house; I was going to set this wizard free.'

'To do so... would accomplish my life's work.'

She saw images then: Dervish and Stephen at the well; Dervish revealed, discovering Stephen's plan; Dervish banishing Stephen to the well; Stephen banishing Dervish to Stephen's spell; the cold water mocking Stephen, and both of them reaching out for just the right wizard, who would surely come along in time.

'But how did you know I would find you?'

'I did not,' said the spirit in the well. 'Things have worked out better than I had planned in that regard. The choice is still yours, Miranda. Say the words, as I have prepared them.'

'I don't want to set Dervish free.'

'But so much more will be set free if you do so. What is he, after all, compared to our revolution?'

'A hypocrite, a liar. He preached your philosophy to get himself flesh.'

Silence. 'I understand.'

'I want you, Stephen, not this revolution, not if it means losing you.'

'You do not know me.'

'But I do. The words he spoke were culled from your books. He learned your arguments, but I read them in your hand.'

'Then you know what you have to do.'

'Why did you do this?'

'To punish him. To break him, to force him to speak that which he did not believe. To make him my servant, if you will. Cast the spell.'

Miranda stepped back from the well. The ground was damp against her feet. 'If I cast the spell of banishment, your spell of Opening, taking down all the safeguards, all of that is lost?'

'Yes.'

Miranda turned back to the house. Lammas in a fortnight. She had to think.

It was Lammas Night. The circle smoked on the floor where Miranda had drawn it, and in its center she sat, her palms held up, and she felt the spirit near by:

Yes, now....

'With the word Kadbin, formed with care by Alexander, who died to make it, I call.'

Kadbin, by Alexander....

'With the word Nednal, formed by Roderick, who died to deliver it, I call.'

Nednal, by Roderick....

'With the word Cyphertan, formed in his last breath by Cedrick, I call.'

Cyphertan, by Cedrick, yes, spoke the spirit, bring me and our new world!

'With the word Lanhadruf, formed by James, who carried it leagues before he succumbed, and delivered at last by his son Hal, I call.'

Lanhadruf, by James!

'With the word Mannivandal, formed by Edmond, I call.'

Mannivandal, yes....

Miranda stopped for a second and breathed.

Nartedti, by Lucas.

'All these things I speak in remembrance of the formers, but now cast I the word Gremfhel, by Stephen.'

What?

'And all the work of Stephen's comrades remembered, I banish this resident spirit.'

But they can only be spoken once! This is...

'Be gone, Dervish,' Miranda whispered, and the spirit howled and Miranda saw images of a dream disappear with him, gone, and she was alone.

And when morning came, Miranda rose and went to the well. For she had another spell to cast, and years and years of work before her.