everything is, but I don't like to use it unless I have to. When I raise my gift, the sheer power involved means I blaze like a beacon in the dark, and my Enemies can see where I am. And then they send terrible agents like the Harrowing, to kill me. They've been trying to kill me for as long as I can remember.
But needs must, when the devil drives ...
Tommy leaned in beside me. 'It's a paradox,' he said urgently. 'Just their being here, mutually exclusive futures in a time-line that couldn't possibly produce them. Use that against them.'
So I reached deep inside my mind and powered up my gift, and found how unlikely it was that Eamonn 50 and Eamonn 60 should be there, in that place and in that time. And having found that tiny, precarious chance, it was the easiest thing in the world for me to blow it out like a
candle. Both men vanished in a moment, because it was impossible for them to be there.
I shut down my gift, and quickly re-established all my mental defences. My Enemies were usually wary of attacking me on Merlin's territory, but they'd been growing increasingly desperate of late. It was all very quiet in the bar. Patrons slowly emerged from their hiding places, looking around rather confusedly. Since the two older Eamonns had never been there, the attack had never happened, but all the changes enforced by the probability wands remained. Magic trumps logic every time. We all took turns kicking the crap out of the released demon, until Alex reactivated the old spell that put it back under the floor-boards again, then we set about extinguishing the various fires that were still burning. Betty and Lucy Coltrarie gathered up all the scattered parts of the Frankenstein creation and stacked them behind the bar, until one of the Baron's descendants should drop in for a drink again.
All in all, we'd got off pretty lightly. Playing around with probability magic is always dangerous. Time doesn't like being messed around with, and it plays dirty. That's why Time travel is so very carefully regulated.
Alex looked at what had been done to all the bottles behind his bar and tugged bitterly at tufts of his hair. 'Those bastards! I'm going to have to check every bottle individually to find out what's in them now. Could be anything from demon's urine to designer water. And I could probably sell demon's urine ... You're a jinx, Taylor, you know that? If I had any sense, I'd have shot you on sight the moment you walked in.'
Eamonn looked at me worriedly, but I smiled at him reassuringly. 'Don't worry; that's just Alex being Alex. He doesn't really mean it.'
'Yes I bloody do!'
'All right, he probably does really mean it, but he'll get over it. He's a friend.'
'Then I'd hate to meet one of your enemies,' muttered Eamonn.
'I think some of you already have,' I said. 'I think someone's using you, in all your many versions, to get at me.'
'But why use me?' said Eamonn plaintively.
'Good question,' I said.
I led him over to a table in the furthest corner of the bar, and we sat down. Tommy Oblivion sat down with us. I gave him a thoughtful look, and he laughed a little nervously.
'We did seem to work rather well together, old man. I thought perhaps I could help you out on this case of yours. It does seem to be my sort of thing. For a reasonable percentage of the fee, of course.'
'Oh, of course,' I said. 'This is business, after all. Tell you what; you can have half of what I'm getting. How's that?'
'More than reasonable, my dear sir! Never let it be said that John Taylor is not a prince among men!'
Since I wasn't expecting to make a penny out of this case, I was quite happy to share the penny I wasn't getting with Tommy Oblivion. I could be existential, too, when it suited me. He smiled happily at me, and I smiled back.
'Look, is it over now?' said Eamonn. 'Can I go home now? I really don't like it here.'
'I'm afraid not,' I said. 'I could escort you safely out of the Nightside, but the odds are our mutual enemy would find some way to bring you back and start this up all over again.'
'Oh God ...' Eamonn sat slumped in his chair, a small ordinary man struggling to cope with problems he should never have had to face. I felt sorry for him. The Nightside is hard enough to deal with when you choose to come here.
'Don't worry,' I said. 'I'm on the case. I will find out who's doing this to you, and I will make them stop.'
'And if Taylor says that, you can take it to the bank,' said Tommy, unexpectedly.
'Talk to me, Eamonn,' I said. 'Tell me about yourself, about your life. There must be a clue in it somewhere.'
But Eamonn was already shaking his head. 'I'm nobody. Or at least, nobody important. Just a minor cog in the great machinery of a big corporation. I do the necessary, everyday work that keeps the wheels turning.'
'All right,' I said. 'Who do you work for?'
'The Widow's Mite Investment Corporation. It's a big company, with branches and offices worldwide. I've worked in the London branch almost twenty years now, man and boy. It's interesting work. We're a fund-raising company, persuading other companies to invest their money in worthy and charitable ventures. That's organized charities, of course, along with small start-up businesses that show promise, and some lobbying groups, for recognized Good Causes. We raise a lot of money, and take a reasonable percentage for ourselves along the way. I say ourselves, but of course I don't see any of the money. It's just when you work for a company for twenty years ... Anyway, mine may not be a particularly challenging job, not what I expected my life would be, but... that's life. Few people ever really achieve their dreams or ambitions. We also serve, who keep the wheels of civilization turning. Because the world couldn't get by without us. And anyway, all I've ever cared about is providing for my family. They are my dreams and ambitions now.'
And nothing would do but that he get his photos of the wife and children out again, to show to Tommy. He made all the correct polite noises while I frowned, thinking. I was still pretty sure Eamonn was bait in a trap for me, but I was beginning to think there was rather more to it than that.
'What made you come to John Taylor for help?' said Tommy, as Eamonn carefully put away his photos again.
'I found his business card in my hand when I arrived in the Nightside.'
'That's how I knew someone had to be playing us,' I said. 'I don't have a business card. Never saw the need. Everyone here knows who I am.'
'I have a card,' said Tommy. 'Or, at least sometimes I do. It depends.'
I knew better than to pursue that. 'What matters,' I said firmly, 'is that someone is interfering in Eamonn's life, and mine. And I won't have that. Anyone wants to come after me, they can do it to my face. I'm used to it. I won't have them attacking me through innocents.'
'I've heard of the Widow's Mite company,' said Tommy. 'They have a branch here in the Nightside.'
Eamonn looked at us with something very like horror. 'My company has a branch in this ... hellhole?'
I shrugged. 'Most big companies do. Can't say I've heard anything particularly good or bad about the Widow's Mite ... What say we go and pay them a visit?'
'What if they won't let us in?' said Eamonn.
Tommy and I shared a smile. 'We'll get in,' I said.
'They couldn't have anything to do with ... all this,' said Eamonn. 'They just couldn't. They've always treated me well. Offered me promotions ... though of course I could never take them. It would mean leaving my family for long periods. You can't really believe a reputable company like the Widow's Mite is behind this!'
'Sure I can,' I said. 'Big corporations aren't always the bad guys; but it's the sensible way to bet.'
Four -
We left Strangefellows and went walking through the Nightside, with Eamonn in the middle. He felt safer that way. He was taking more notice of his surroundings, but it was clear he didn't approve of anything he saw. The inhuman elements scared him, and, if anything, the temptations available scared him even more. There was nothing in the Nightside he wanted, and what might have seemed magical or fantastical to others just disturbed
