Robert Weinberg - A Calculated Magic

Over strong coffee and mints, talk turned from celebrities to more serious topics.

“Loki can’t be trusted,” said Freda, draining her cup in one gulp, “but I doubt if he will interfere in your mission. Though he pretends otherwise, the trickster is a coward by nature. Despite his laughter, you frightened him here tonight, Johnnie. Whatever his involvement with these matters, I believe he will remain inactive until a clear winner emerges.”

“He did mention the Old Man of the Mountain,” said Cassandra. “Which confirms your suspicions. Now we know for sure who our enemy is.”

“Our current enemy,” corrected Jack. “Still lurking somewhere in the background is our primary foe—a demigod from the dawn of civilization. It’s the one we have to defeat to save the world.”

’The Ancient Ones were created without weaknesses,” said Cassandra, a note of apprehension in her voice. Supremely confident in her own abilities, the Amazon feared no mortal or supernatural opponent. However, an actual god presented a unique challenge. “Their worshipers believed them immortal and indestructible.”

“As was the All-Father,” said Freda Collins. “Under one name or another, he existed from the end of the ice age till the coming of the White Christ. Yet, in the end, the priests vanquished Odin and the Aesir without engaging in a single battle.”

“They were disbelieved out of existence,” said Jack. “The first commandment specified ‘Thou shall have no other gods before me.’ As Christianity spread across half the world, the passionate beliefs of its worshipers wiped out the pagan gods. With so many people believing they did not exist, they couldn’t. They vanished into the outer darkness.”

“Until some imbecile summoned one back to our world,” said Megan. “Forcing us to battle a pagan demigod intent on reestablishing its rule over mankind.”

“But why doesn’t this first commandment still work?” asked Hugo. “Nobody believes in the Ancient Ones these days.”

“Exactly,” said Jack. “Nobody believes and hasn’t in hundreds of years. The first commandment lost its power once the last of the pagan gods disappeared. Ordinary people stopped disbelieving because there were no longer any false gods to deny. That’s our problem. Understand?”

“No,” said Hugo. “Call me a birdbrain, but I’m still lost.”

“The Ancient One returned to our world not through belief but by magic. As a god, ordinary sorcery doesn’t work against it. It can be banished only through disbelief. But we’re the only ones who know it exists. And it takes thousands if not millions of people to disbelieve it to limbo.”

“So you first gotta convince a bunch of bozos to believe in this god,” said Hugo, “then persuade them to not believe in it any longer.” The bird paused, then shook its head in a very humanlike gesture. “Good luck.”

“Now you understand why Loki laughed,” said Jack. “It’s a complicated situation.”

“You’ll find the solution, honey,” said Megan, patting Jack’s hand. “Father has complete faith in you. And so do I.”

“Whatever happens,” said Cassandra, “you can count on me. An Amazon’s loyalty never wavers.”

“I don’t make friends easy,” declared Fritz Grondark, “but like Cassandra here, when I make them, I stick with them. That’s the dwarven code.”

“With friends like these,” said Jack’s mother, “how can you fail.” She grinned. “Of course, being your mother, I have to say that.”

“You guys talk too much,” said Hugo. “That’s why I liked the All-Father. He never spoke without a purpose.”

“He was a rather taciturn individual,” said Freda. “I never once recall hearing him laugh, Ragnarok weighed heavily on his mind. And it was hard for him to concentrate in Valhalla, considering the hall was always filled with a noisy bunch of drunken heroes.”

“It wasn’t his style,” said Hugo. “Odin disliked senseless chatter.”

Glancing at Megan, Jack raised his eyebrows in mock astonishment. His fiancée giggled. One thing they agreed upon was that all supernaturals loved to talk. Dream creations, they were brash, impulsive, melodramatic, and bold. And rarely silent for more than a few seconds. It was part of their nature.

“I could talk all night,” said Freda Collins, as if reading her son’s mind, “but I have an early flight to catch tomorrow morning. Mr. Weissman placed a big order with the company. I need to return home to supervise its delivery.”

“Damn and double damn,” said Hugo. “Just when things were getting interesting here.”

“Don’t worry, bird,” said Freda, signaling Bryan for the check. “I’ve decided to leave you and Mongo here with Jack. He needs all the help he can get.”

“Hey, great news,” the bird said, and hopped onto Jack’s shoulder. “I love a good fight. Especially the mop-up afterward. You know, examining the bodies…”

“Stop,” said Jack, “before you get started.” He looked at his mother. “I appreciate the offer of the ravens, but are you sure you can manage without them?”

“Manage?” said Freda with a laugh. “After centuries of listening to their advice, a few weeks without their croaking will be like returning to Valhalla.”

“It’s settled then,” said Hugo. “We’re part of the team.” Flapping its wings, the blackbird launched itself into the air. “Wait till I tell Mongo.”

Staring at his mother as she counted out money for the bill, Jack wondered if the whole dinner hadn’t been planned to reach this exact conclusion. Knowing his mom, it seemed quite possible. Mentally, he shrugged his shoulders. Though Hugo had a bloodthirsty streak equal to Cassandra’s, he found the bird otherwise entertaining company. And Mongo as well. Working with them should prove to be an interesting, if not unique, experience.

Sitting on the sofa in the living room of Megan’s apartment, Jack felt free for the first time in weeks. Tonight, the world would survive without him. The Logical Magician was taking a break.

Using the TV remote control, he casually channel-surfed, looking for an old movie to watch. He didn’t particularly care what, as his mind was on other things. Specifically, Megan, indulging in a bubble bath, after which she promised to change into something “comfortable.” The way she pronounced the word when they returned to her dwelling curled Jack’s toes.

To his surprise, upon leaving the restaurant, Cassandra insisted that he spend the night in Megan’s apartment. She felt he would be much safer there. Normally quite Victorian in her attitudes, the Amazon was more concerned about possible Assassin ambushes at the campgrounds than Jack’s moral responsibilities. Megan, slightly tipsy from the champagne, had enthusiastically agreed it was a good plan. Her hand, resting on Jack’s thigh the entire ride back to the building, made it quite clear that she liked the scheme for several reasons.

Merlin owned the entire apartment complex. Megan occupied the penthouse on the roof, which could be reached only by a private elevator. With Cassandra stationed in an empty apartment directly across from the building entrance, Jack seemed absolutely safe from attack—other than one planned by an amorous young lady.

Sighing, then sipping on a can of Coke, he decided that life wasn’t so bad. He was young; in good health; engaged to a stunning, sexy, wonderful woman; and defending the world against the powers of darkness. He was definitely, as the ancient Chinese curse decreed, living in interesting times.

“Oh, Jack,” cooed Megan, from the far side of the room, “time to turn off the TV.”

Slapping the set’s power button, Jack turned and froze. Megan stood by the sliding door leading to the outdoor patio of the penthouse. The bright moonlight shone like a spotlight on her stunning figure. She was dressed in a long, flowing red silk dressing gown. The material was so fine and thin that it was almost transparent in the light. Beads of sweat exploded across Jack’s forehead and his mouth turned incredibly dry.