John Wright - Fugitives of Chaos

And he cracked the distaff in half over his knee.

He threw the two halves of the distaff spinning into the waters far below, calling out, "This gift I give to the Sons of Danu, who dwell in the waters of the West, in memory of promises kept."

He reached over with his foot and rubbed out part of the line he had drawn in the snow around Colin.

"The wall around you is broken. Be free."

Colin clutched his head, rolling his eyes like a maddened horse, and doubled over, groaning.

Quentin stepped forward, looking worried. Victor said, "Did it work? Are your memories coming back?"

Colin straightened up, brushing his hands through his hair. "Naw. Just joking around. But that was a damn impressive ceremony, Big Q. Thanks for trying, at least."

Vanity said softly to me, "Permission to whack him with a snowball again, O my Queen?"

"Denied." I raised my voice. "Next step. We fly to the Great Hall. We have two fliers in the group and three walkers. Which one of you two boys can carry two people?"

Quentin, who was rather short, looked up at Victor. Quentin pointed at Victor. "Him."

Victor said, "I should take the two lightest people."

Quentin snorted and said, "I'm not carrying Colin."

Victor said, "Amelia? Colin? How much do you each weigh?"

Quentin suddenly got a funny look on his face. He said, "Amelia. I have to carry Amelia."

Vanity looked at him oddly.

He said, "There are reasons which are hard to explain. According to the signs, she flew with me before.

The sympathies might be more favorable if I do not introduce any novel parameters into the demonstration."

I said, "Vanity, if you sense anyone watching us, break off. If we get scattered, we'll… meet back here, at the Kissing Well. Okay?"

Quentin said, "It will take me a moment to prepare."

Victor said, "Should I wait?"

Quentin looked at me. "Leader makes the call."

I said, "Let me think. If you meet Miss Daw, Colin can stop her, if he can make himself want to. Fell and Victor are at least evenly matched; so are Grendel and Colin."

Vanity said, "Who is Grendel?"

"Mr. Glum's first name. He's planning on kidnapping you and marrying you, so be careful of him. If you meet Mrs. Wren, Victor can neutralize her magic. Um. The same goes for me and Quentin running into anybody. We are either going to be equal to or be able to trump any paradigm we come across. I do not know how Olympians and Phaeacians fit into the chart, though. You guys take off; Quentin and I will join you."

Quentin said, "I have to make a preparatory lemma. I'm going uphill to that grove of trees. Follow me when I call."

He walked away from the Kissing Well to where some clumps of trees clung to the grass that broke through the rocky soil. As he approached the grove, he put out his hand.

A long stick of pale wood came felling out of the grove toward him. It was as if an unseen stagehand, hidden just beyond the tree, had tossed him a prop. He caught the stick and walked into the trees.

We waited a moment or two, until Quentin called out that he was ready. I waved at the others to take off.

Victor, without any further ado, put one arm around Colin's waist, and told him to loop his belt through the chain links of his jerkin. But Victor simply picked up Vanity and hoisted her over his shoulder, like Tarzan picking up Jane, so her head was dangling down his back and her bottom was high in the air.

With no noise and no fuss, the invisible chessmaster picked up his Victor piece and swept him off the board and out of sight.

I climbed the rocky slope and entered the small grove of trees. There was no visible sign that Quentin had done anything in particular; no cut-open goats or candles floating in midair or anything like that. If he had made any scratches on the ground or the trees, it was too dim, in the moonlight, with the twigs and branches overhead, to see.

He said, "Um, Amelia, I hope you won't get mad, but…"

I pulled off my scarf and handed it to him. "You have to blindfold me. I've been through this before."

I had my aviatrix cap (which I take along on all my es-cape attempts) folded into a bulky wad in my outer coat pocket. I put it on and began tucking my hair up.

He wrapped the scarf fabric around my head, and I donned the goggles atop them.

He said, "Now open your mouth."

I hooked a thumb under the blindfold and goggles and raised one corner to turn and give him a cold, one-eyed stare.

"Why exactly am I opening my mouth?"

He said, "I thought you said we did this before… ?"

"Blindfold, yes. Gagged, absolutely not. I cannot go a week around here without someone trying to tie me up. Why the hell do you need me with a scarf in my mouth to fly?"

He pointed at the trees. Or maybe he was pointing at unseen things in the air around us. "The long-lived ones say you tried to talk last time. They don't trust you to keep your mouth shut."

"What if I promise?"

He cocked his head, looking thoughtful. "Um, Amelia. Rumor has been set against you. Someone has been spreading the story that you are an oath-breaker."

"Boggin."

"Well, whoever did it, the long-lived ones won't carry us without some clear sign that you won't talk.

Look. I'll just tie it loosely. It's not going to hurt you, or choke you. It's a symbol. It's only symbolic.

Well… ? The others are going to be waiting for us. We are being chased, you know."

"Okay. Okay, fine. But you don't tell anyone, anyone , that I let you do this."

I put the blindfold back in place. Quentin moved around behind me, reached up over my shoulders. I felt soft fabric come up toward my mouth, touch my lips.

The gag was just for show. He draped a strip of fabric—maybe it was his scarf—over my mouth and tied it in back of my head. It would not actually stop me from talking, any more than the veil of a harem girl would have. But it would remind me not to talk.

He said, "Ready? Don't talk." He stooped and swept me off my feet. He held me very close to his chest, a husband carrying a bride over the threshold. His arms were much stronger than those a boy his height should have. I had my arms around his neck.

I spoke through the so-called gag. "Uh, Quentin, can I ask you a question before we take off?"

His left hand relaxed, and he dropped my feet to the ground again. I felt the stones and leaves under my boots.

He said, "What is it?"

I said, "Why me? I thought you would have jumped at the chance to pick up Vanity and fly around with her."

He straightened his right arm, and I was standing upright again. "I did not want to have to blindfold her.

She would have thought I was being kinky, or something. Here, hold still. I am going to have to make this more realistic-looking. Open wide."

This time he put a wad of silk fabric, maybe it was his pocket handkerchief, into my mouth, and tucked the scarf between my teeth. That tickled my throat, and I coughed, and I put up my hands to adjust the gag, but he grabbed my arms.

"Stop that." His voice sounded alarmed. "There is one of them standing next to me. If they think you are about to give them away, they kill me. This is serious business, Amelia! I am trying to get them to break the laws of nature for me. Those laws have police. These are like Mafia people. Do you understand? We were a mile up in the air and halfway there when you spoke before. They don't like it when you talk and attract attention. I don't like it. Now hold still. I can adjust the gag, but you can't touch it while they are watching. Put your hands behind you or something. This has to look real. Okay? Be careful."

Seething with indignation, I put my hands down while he fussed with the scarf and loosened it. I sort of had to bite down to keep the thing from falling out.