Any Man So Daring (39 page)

Even if Will had already lost his son, as such, he wished he could restore this new Hamnet to freedom and the sane world of men.

To free Hamnet from here, to give him a chance at happiness, Will would gladly sacrifice himself.

Alas, he had already sacrificed himself in vain, without fighting.

The girl on the ground opened her eyes, and now Proteus hissed close to Will’s ear, “Miranda, protect me, or the mortal dies.”

The woman looked on with uncomprehending blue eyes. “But he will die anyway,” she said slowly as though speaking out of dreams. Then, with blazing fury, “You’ll let him die. Kill him now, villain, kill him swiftly if you will, for I will not help you.”

Will closed his eyes. He would die.

On the darkness of his closed eyelids, Marlowe’s ghost appeared, and Marlowe’s voice spoke clearly in Will’s head.
You think, Will, that like Doctor Faustus, you shall trade your soul for magic. And yet, you need not. Without magic is your soul forfeit as is that son you claim to love more than your own soul.
 

This was said in mockery, and Will
felt
Marlowe doubt Will’s affection for Hamnet.

Will opened his eyes and saw Miranda and Quicksilver, both helpless, lying side by side on the ground and staring up at him.

He felt the cold edge of Proteus's weapon, heard Proteus say, “I mock not, so trifle not with me. Obey me, or he dies.”

Will thought of how desperate he himself had been when he’d tried the like gambit on the witch.

Would he have killed the woman? Perhaps not, but then Proteus was no Will.

Will knew he’d die if he allowed this to go on.

But how to stop it?

There was only magic. Could Will, even if he dared, summon that magic he’d disdained till now? Would it damn his immortal soul if he did? Or if it didn’t, prove all Will had been taught wrong?

At that moment, fearing to destroy his own beliefs, Will remembered what Miranda had believed and how, without those beliefs had led her to here, to this near death. Perhaps Will’s beliefs were just as wrong. He must dare test them.

His fear, his fury, his love for his son -- all in a bundle -- pressed in on his brain, and with all his might he willed the gag to tear and give around his mouth.

The cloth ripped as though cut by knife.

As the pieces fell away from around his mouth, Will spoke, “Back,” he told Proteus. “Back, dread creature, and touch me not, nor dare harm these elves whom I protect.”
 

Thus speaking, he stood before Quicksilver and Miranda. The assault of Proteus's power hit him like a breath-robbing pain-- blow upon blow, as though Proteus and the centaurs were punching him, enough to fell a man in a tavern brawl. Such a tavern brawl as poor Marlowe was rumored to have died in.

But Will, who’d never brawled in his life, stood under the blows, legs wide apart for balance, and threw back blow for blow and punch for punch, magically willing the villains to be crushed.

He saw his enemies flinch and duck.

But Proteus and the centaurs looked one at the other, as though coordinating their attack, and returned to the fray with redoubled force.

A magical punch, then quickly another, fell on Will, punches so strong Will tasted his own blood in his mouth.

He stood and defended himself as he could. And yet he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

Scene Forty Three

Quicksilver, staring from the ground, while light and power fly in a battle between Will and Proteus.

O
h, what might Will has, what power,
Quicksilver thought. No wonder Silver had loved him.

In that moment, he understood Silver’s love. The guilt and shame Quicksilver hadn’t even known he felt at her preference for Will, now fled from him. A mortal Will might be, a lowly mortal. But how could anyone be ashamed of loving him?

For Will, mortal — and male — though he was, must be a rare creature, engendered from the womb of nature on a singular day. How he battled the magical ones with no fear. With what strength he opposed what he didn’t understand.

Yet Quicksilver, long an adept at these duels, knew that Will would lose, for the centaurs pressed in upon him also, increasing Proteus's might.

Will, unschooled in magic, could not stand the trained might of his enemies.

Quicksilver thought of the centaurs’ just complaints and felt guilty, but the time was not for guilt. From his throne could he address the foreigners' just complaints. Not now.

Now must he help Will save them all.

“Lady,” he asked the girl who, on the ground beside him, sobbed like the child she was. “Lady, I know you fear me, but you must untie me, so that I can help the mortal and free us all.”

Miranda looked at him, her eyes wide, and stared like a blind woman who, suddenly given sight, cannot interpret what she sees.

“Lady, you must help me,” Quicksilver said. “And you can have my throne, or yet my life, or my riches or anything of mine you crave. Only let me save Will and all of us with him.”

He looked at Miranda and wished her strength.

And he wished he could be Silver again. Her follies were his follies and together they were less foolish than apart.

Scene Forty Four

The same scene seen through Miranda’s eyes.

N
ow, what should she do, and whom should she believe? Her uncle, whom she’d learned to consider evil, had asked her help.

Was he telling the truth? Did villains beg?

Miranda stared at him, her eyes wide.

“My kingdom,” he said. “My life if you believe yourself wronged--all of mine is yours if only you will free me. For if you do not, then will my friend be killed, and you, and your troll also.”

Should Miranda trust again, when she’d been most cruelly deceived?

Yet, if she trusted not....

She looked on Caliban, who had after all not been a deceiver--or not of her, but lying in wait till he could avenge her. Was Caliban alive still?
 

Looking close at the furry body, it seemed to Miranda that she saw him breathe. His head upon her ankles still trickled blood.

She looked at the mortal, arms wide, sparks of magic flying, his hair -- possessed of a life of its own -- standing around his head.

If she said no, if she did not help her uncle, all this would be lost. Well she knew that neither she nor the mortal nor the both combined could oppose the might of these beings trained in magic.

Yet if her uncle lied, what would he do? What could happen that was worse than what awaited them already? Miranda would die, but
maybe
Caliban would be saved. And the mortal would be rescued, if Quicksilver had any say in the outcome of this.

She’d risk her life in saving Caliban because her uncle — like Proteus — might not wish to have competition for ruling in elvenland. Once the game was won, he might have her killed.

Yet her life was already forfeit if she didn’t help Quicksilver.

Besides, was Miranda’s life worth all that much?

She’d stolen from her father and she’d left her home, all in pursuit of a false, foolish love.

If she died now, redeeming the mortal and Caliban, what was she doing more than what she
must
do? Her duty was to redeem herself now and, in so doing, to save all these others.

Trembling, she sat up, afraid that Proteus would notice her and kill her with a magical blow before she could free Quicksilver.

But Proteus and the centaurs, in close, hot battle with the mortal, looked not at her.

Trembling with nervousness and fatigue, Miranda reached for her uncle.

Gambling her life to save those she prized, she reached over and, with nimble fingers, pulled Circe’s net away from Quicksilver and threw it wide.

Scene Forty Five

The scene through Will’s eyes. Behind him, the door of the castle flies open.

W
ill felt another magic strengthening his shields, putting extra force in his punches. Had Quicksilver freed himself?

Turning to where he felt that magic, Will met the eye of — he opened his mouth in shock and, for a moment, almost lost control -- Quicksilver stood, free, behind Will; but even as Will watched, Quicksilver melted and changed, and the Lady Silver smiled at him.

Naked as the day she’d seen light, she was pale and beautiful, cloaked only in her silken black hair. Her silver eyes shone impishly, and she said. “You are gifted in magic use, Will, for a beginner.”

And in saying it, she took hold of his newfound power and threw it at their enemy.

Will felt his stomach churn and his teeth rattle with the force of his own punch.

“I’m too old for this,” he said, looking at the lady and at Miranda who, behind her, seemed to hesitate still.

But Silver grinned and said, “To me, my friend, you shall never be old.”

Their gazes locked, and Will realized with a shock that Silver did mean what she said. She didn’t see him as old or unattractive.

He felt a blush of gratified pride warm his cheeks.

The lady loved him still, who had so adored him in his youth.

In her eyes, he saw himself as young and, dazzled by her affection, he failed to feel the magical punch from Proteus that threw him to the ground.

“Will,” Silver screamed.

His face hurt. His eyes fogged in pain. Will said, “Care not for me, for you must defend us all.”

Silver turned. Will felt her shield go up, but feared it would be too little too late. Then he felt another power yet join their conjoined powers.

This power was stronger than all of theirs.

The door of the magical white castle flew open wide.

“Father,” a man’s voice called.

Down the steps a man came running, a young man of maybe twenty attired in red and blue silk. It took Will a few seconds and a hasty breath to recognize Hamnet. But he could feel Hamnet’s power touching his, shoring his, like soothing water upon abraded skin.

“Father,” Hamnet said, and smiled at Will. Sparks flew around them. The centaurs neighed and screamed as fireballs singed their hair. The Lady Silver, naked and noble like a goddess of old, stood with hands raised and shaped the crackling magic to righteous assault of the unrighteous foe.

Now Miranda also rose and, looking very oddly at Hamnet, drew herself to stand behind the Lady, supporting Silver’s magic with her own.

Under their conjoined command, flames of magic fire erupted round the centaurs’ hooves.

Miranda, looking dazed, still held in her hand the net of Circe.

Proteus, pale, his lips white and trembling, stood his ground despite the flames that licked at his broad shoulders, his noble features. Hamnet threw himself into Will’s open arms. “I’ve been raised by the Hunter these long years, but I knew you’d come and rescue me; I was sure of it.”

Will felt his eyes burn with tears but turned away. “Let us first be safe,” he said. “And then shall we talk of all the years wasted.”

Speaking thus, he turned towards the enemy who, in a disarrayed group, stood facing them.

Hamnet’s power, and -- Will realized -- Hamnet’s knowledge of magic, had joined in had given them victory.