But I could see (since I could look every direction at once, even with my eyes closed) the puzzled frown beginning to form on the face of Victor, the sternly repressed gleam of pain in his eyes.
Doors and Corridors Unseen
Quentin, hovering, still within the swirled darkness of shadow and power, said quietly but sternly to the nymphs, 'Surrender, and swear not to attack any of the five of us again, in person or by proxy, in word or deed.'
One of the nymphs, Lara, said quietly, 'Do you threaten us, Lord of Chaos? We helpless women?
Cruel Olympians impressed us to these evil deeds; we are enspelled by Trismegistus, the God of Magic, Father of Lies.'
Quentin raised his shadowy hand, and dark flame seemed to cling to his fingers. He spoke a Word of Power, and the stones rang underfoot as if a gong had rung, moaning, echoing, and vibrating.
'Swear!' he said in a soft voice, deadly with menace, 'Swear, or I, Eidotheia, put upon you a curse as swift and bloody as that which you conspired to put on us!'
Lara held up her hands. 'Our hands are clean of blood!'
He said, 'As are mine, if the Amazon shoots you through the brainpan. Amelia... ? If you will do the honors... ?'
Hey. Wasn't I supposed to be in charge? On the other hand, all I was doing right now was pressing my shaking body up to Colin's, so I guess a little insubordination among the ranks was to be expected.
I manipulated the atoms in the Amazon's brain. She chambered an anti-psychic round and raised the weapon to her shoulder, aiming at Lara.
Lara said softly, 'Shoot. I do not know fear.'
The other nymphs looked at each other. The one with the broken nose, Sagaritis, murmured, 'The maenads are trapped, motionless and paralyzed,, imprisoned in forms alien to their wild freedom, but forms natural and dear to us. What is the worst this child might do to us? Turn us into trees?'
Another nymph murmured, 'What is death to us? The guide of the dead has vowed to guide our shades astray, and lead us to the light again, where we never can belong.'
It was Victor who interrupted, saying coldly to Quentin: 'Call Hades.'
Vanity-the real Vanity, who had come up through one of the trapdoors in the clearing just at that moment-put her hands in front of her mouth, and screamed in utmost panic. 'Don't say that name! He heard! He's coming!'
Her eyes were rolling and starting with fear: Her voice and limbs shook.
The nymphs, so defiant a moment before, threw themselves on their faces, groveling, begging, and crying. The change from self-possessed enchantresses to quaking shapes of utter panic was too quick to be believed.
The shadow of Quentin casually moved over to where Vanity was. She had elevated his empty body into place through her trapdoor of grass. He shrank and resumed his flesh and stood. He put out his hand and called: From among the trees came flying a length of white wood, his wand, and it fell lightly into his palm. I suppressed a giggle: He looked so like a stage magician in his tuxedo.
Only now did he deign to turn and notice the groveling, pleading forms of the lovely nymphs.
Their tresses, once crowned with flowers, were now tangled in the trampled mud and wine of the grass.
Quentin raised his white wand, saying, 'There is but one world where the Lord of Death has no reign, and but one people beyond the power of his laws, beyond the power of all laws! I am a Prince of Chaos, the realm where time, and space, and order are jarred and confounded together in roaring tumult-what is death to me?'
There was more screaming from the nymphs, calls of 'Save me!' 'I'll swear!' 'Master, spare me!' while he spoke sharply at them, demanding their oaths.
It was confusing, but Quentin pointed his stick at them, one after another, and exacted the wording of the vows he wanted.
Quentin waved his wand over them and demanded them to be silent. With a little whimpering and weeping, the girls fell quiet.
Victor seemed pleased. The nymphs had not seen what I saw when he spoke. I had seen the inner nature of the words coming from his mouth. When Victor spoke the dread true name of the Lord of Hell, it was merely air-compression waves forming an arbitrary symbol. He could not say magic words. His voice would never call up gods, no matter what forbidden names he spoke.
I had also seen the utility shining from Vanity's playacted panic, and had seen the deceptive inner nature of her frantic words.
Unlike me, Vanity was a good actress.
And unlike Victor, Vanity could not restrain herself from a mild gloat. She smiled archly at the prone women, and she made a little curtsy-pantomime. 'Thank you for swearing, ladies. Now, Leader, can we get out of here?'
