Living with Your Past Selves (Spell Weaver) (21 page)

BOOK: Living with Your Past Selves (Spell Weaver)
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I had also feared the possible menu, but Ms. Winn had the sense not to try anything really exotic, though it would almost have been worth the price of admission to watch Gordy Hayes struggle with lobster. Fortunately, everything was pretty conventional, though superbly prepared. I recognized all the courses—yes, there were several, but mostly light, except for the culminating prime rib, carved to order and certainly the best I had ever tasted. The only problem was figuring out the silverware. Which fork to use when might have been a real ordeal, but instead of getting stressed we ended up laughing at each other and somehow getting the food eaten, wrong fork or no. Then came the dessert, an excellent chocolate soufflé I noticed some of the cheerleaders sent back untouched. I guess fitting into those uniforms on game days took a lot of self-discipline.

Carrie Winn ate at the head table with the coaching staff. Security guards flanked them, as if an assassin lurked among us. I found myself chuckling inwardly about that, too. I’m sure this was all deadly serious for the adults, but I was still a teenager in the present life, and still able to see the humor in a situation like this.

Then came the moment for Ms. Winn to speak, but fortunately, as I had noted at Founders’ Day, she was a charismatic speaker and even managed to keep a mob of teenagers entertained, no mean feat. She talked about the fine tradition of homecoming, the great heights to which our team had risen, the possibility of the state championship. She had an inspiring quality that rivaled the best pep talks I had heard—in this life or any of the others. And it definitely became a feel good moment for the football team. Even Dan seemed more relaxed than I had seen him recently.

Ms. Winn also knew when to stop, perhaps the greatest blessing of all, given what had happened with some of the speakers at Founders’ Day. She invited her teenage guests into the ballroom to dance “just for a little while,” as she had promised the coaches, so the players wouldn’t get home too late. The ballroom, adjacent to the dining room, looked fit for royalty: more glowing chandeliers, a dance floor big enough to get lost on, a massive window on the south side with a romantic sea view. Somehow, I hadn’t really thought about going upstairs when I first came in, but the dining room and ball room were clearly at least a few floors up, judging by that view. I had been so engrossed in sightseeing I hadn’t even noticed the climb.

The cheerleader who had sat next to me at dinner was sidling up next to me with obviously interesting intentions, when someone behind us said, “Mr. Weaver, can I steal you away for a moment?” I jumped a little, not having realized anyone else was so close, turned around, and found myself face-to-face with Ms. Winn again. “I’m sure the young lady will understand.” Judging by her facial expression, I doubted the young lady did understand, but she nodded agreement. Even a teenage girl in Santa Brígida knew enough not to get between Carrie Winn and what she wanted.

I glanced discretely around, decided that Stan was taken care of for the moment—dancing with a cheerleader, God bless him—and no one else seemed likely to need me for a few minutes. “Certainly, Ms. Winn,” I replied.

We exited the ballroom on the north side, went up some stairs—this time I noticed—and ended up on what felt like the top floor of Awen…with two security guards following at a discrete distance. Give me a break!

“A little quick business,” said Ms. Winn, slowing her pace. “I’m giving a little party on Halloween, and I would love for the Bards to play, at least part of the time. Your group would be well-compensated.”

Well, that I could believe.

“I appreciate the offer, Ms. Winn, but I’m a little puzzled. There isn’t that much call for Rock/Celtic fusion bands at adult functions. We’ve played teenage venues, mostly.”

“You’re too modest,” she said, with a little laugh. You got good reviews at the Troubadour, did you not? Oh, did I mention the entertainment editors for several of the local papers will be here? The Bards would get very good exposure.”

The guys would smear me with honey and tie me to an anthill if I said no to an offer like this, and there didn’t seem any reason to refuse. “We’d be honored.”

“Very good, then. You’ll only be playing part of the time. The rest you’ll be invited guests, free to enjoy the party. Ah, here we are. Boys,” she said, turning to her security men. “You can go back down. I don’t think I’m going to be needing much protection from young Taliesin here.” Both men nodded and walked briskly off toward the stairs.

With that, she opened the door in front of us, and gestured for me to go in. I countered by gesturing her in—my mom hadn’t raised me to go in before a lady. Ms. Winn smiled and walked in. I followed quickly…

And my jaw hit the ground with a resounding thud.

I had expected her office, but this was obviously the master bedroom.

“Do sit down, Taliesin,” she said, indicating a plush chair against the wall, “and don’t look so scandalized. This is the only room without security cameras. I trust my people, but you never can tell.” I nodded nervously, and sat down. “By the way, you really didn’t need the sword.” Reflexively, I reached down and touched its hilt.

“You can see it?”

“If I really make the effort, but actually it got picked up by the security cameras.”

“Yeah,” I said sadly. “I never have found a way to make it truly invisible.”

“Well, no worries; I convinced my security chief it was just a harmless eccentricity of yours. Anyway, as I was saying, you don’t need it here, just for future reference. This is the safest place west of the Rockies—you can trust me on that.”

“With all due respect, Ms. Winn, some of my friends and I got sucked into Annwn on Founders’ Day when I was standing almost right next to you.”

Ms. Winn chuckled. “I like it that you speak your mind to me. So few people really do, you know. But Founders’ Day was at city hall, not here. I have enough protection here to fend off the entire army of Annwn, if need be—and I am not just talking about my human guards, though they are quite formidable. The protective magic is so thick here that no one, and I mean no one, gets in or out without my consent.”

“Thank you for the protection, and I will keep that in mind next time. But that can’t be the only reason you wanted to talk to me.”

“Ah, yes, very perceptive. Taliesin, I am concerned about the progress of your magic studies.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my progress.”

“I know, nonetheless. You are reluctant to shift, and you still can’t get in or out of Annwn on your own power. You could do all that and more when you were first called Taliesin, correct?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, “there are some types of magic where the memory doesn’t seem to be helping.”

“That’s because knowing how to do something in theory is very different from actually doing it. Let’s say you had been a pro football player in your last life but had never even touched a ball in this one. You would know in theory how to throw the winning touchdown, but your arm muscles wouldn’t be able to actually execute the move without practice.”

“I know. That’s why I fence. That’s why I work out. That’s why I practice my music, and my magic, but practicing the magic doesn’t seem to help in the way I expected.” Since I still didn’t know if Ms. Winn were friend or foe, I probably shouldn’t have been talking to her about my potential weaknesses, but what reason could I have given for refusing? She clearly already knew the areas in which I struggled, anyway.

“Has it occurred to you that in that case, the problem might not be lack of practice, but a blockage of some kind?”

“Interesting, but I’ve never heard of a random magic blockage, in any of my lives. What do you think could cause such a thing?”

Ms. Winn attempted what I think she wanted me to accept as a knowing look. “What makes this life different from your earlier ones?”

“I never thought about it. I’m surrounded by modern technology. I’m living on the other side of the world. There are actually a lot of big differences.”

“Is this perhaps the only life in which you were still a virgin at this age?”

I nearly fell off my chair.

Those of you who are still teenage guys, or at least remember what it was like, will know that, in general, about the last conversation you want to have with your mom is one about sex. True, Carrie Winn was not my mom, but she was about the same age. The conversation had gone from matter-of-fact to incredibly awkward in under sixty seconds.

“I think,” I said, striving for a neutral tone, “there are a lot of cultures that think virginity is apt to give one greater spiritual and supernatural sensitivity.”

“But certainly not the Celts! Was Morgan a virgin? Hardly. But she was one of the most powerful sorceresses who ever lived. Were the ladies of the lake? No? The queens of Avalon? No? Merlin? Obviously not! The first Taliesin? You know differently.”

“Ms. Winn, with respect, you need to let me take care of that in my own way, and in my own time.”

“Well, you are certainly taking your time about it!”

“This isn’t the sixth century. Things were easier then.”

Ms. Winn laughed hard at that. “Taliesin, do you really not know how the girls feel about you? Why, you could have had that brunette tonight. You could probably have had her in the bushes on the way in, if you had wanted. Why, Taliesin, I do believe you’re blushing. You never were such a prude before.”

“Before?” I said, grasping at any possible change of subject. “You knew me in an earlier life?”

“Oh, yes, very early indeed. But don’t change the subject. You do not lack for opportunities, Taliesin. You just don’t take them.”

Well, she had me there. I knew on some level that I probably could find a willing girl. Yet, for all my joking about scripting porno movies in my head—actually, I guess I did do that sometimes—I felt differently about sex than I had in some of my earlier lives. Oh, I’m no saint, and I suppose if a beautiful girl threw herself at me—murderous Kelpies excepted—I would probably succumb. But I had a deep-seated aversion to the idea of having sex just to have it. Oh, I know, some of you are snickering, but it’s true—and it didn’t make me any less of a man, just a more sensible one. Actually, I was heartily sick of the way teenage society tries to measure a guy’s masculinity by how early and how often he’s had sex. I guess one of the advantages of having all those past life memories was being able to avoid some of the mistakes of the past. I have had lives in which I was an animal about sex, rutting with everything that moved, and lives in which I had made love only with those I loved. The latter ended up much better. So no, I wasn’t going to do it for the sake of doing it. My hormones wanted it for sure. There were days I felt racked with desire for it. But the one girl I would feel right about doing it with was the one girl I couldn’t have. Yeah, I still loved Eva, even having seen how cruel she could be to Dan. But nothing was ever going to happen there. I was not going to be Lancelot to her Guinevere and Dan’s Arthur, and not just because I needed Dan.

Ms. Winn gave me a penetrating stare, as if trying to plumb the depths of my soul.

“I am your protector, Taliesin. Am I also your friend?”

“I…I guess. I don’t really know you.”

“I understand your resistance to losing your virginity with some random girl. Would you feel the same way about losing it with a friend?”

Was she going where I thought she was going?

I started to get up, but she pushed me back into the chair with some force.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“And I’m not going to. I don’t mean to be rude, but…oh, hell, did you mean…”

“Taliesin, you are blushing again. At least give it some thought. I know many ways of pleasuring a man…”

Oh, my God! Way too much information!

Ms. Winn was an attractive woman…for someone of my mom’s generation. Maybe if I’d had a really massive Oedipus complex…no, probably not even then.

“I’ve upset you. That wasn’t what I wanted. Listen, I know what the problem is. I’m too old for you…in this lifetime, anyway.”

Ya think?

“But,” she said, none too subtly positioning herself between me and door, “you ought to have guessed that I can be whoever you want. You want your first time to be with a particular young lady; so be it!”

In the next few seconds, I learned three things.

First, Carrie Winn could shape shift.

Second, Carrie Winn could read minds.

Third, Carrie Winn was not above fighting incredibly dirty to get what she wanted.

Carrie Winn was no longer in front of me. Instead, I saw Eva, and every nerve in my body was on fire. I wanted to throw her on Ms. Winn’s enormous bed, undress her and love her until dawn, until every ounce of my strength and hers was spent. I wanted to become one with her and never let go.

Ms. Winn almost had me. Caught off guard, I actually moved in the direction of “Eva,” who was falling back toward the bed, her smile inviting.

The problem was, this wasn’t really Eva. True, precisely because it wasn’t Eva, I could theoretically have had sex without feeling as if I were betraying Dan, but I could not help thinking of Morgan, pretending a wasteland was Avalon and making it more of a wasteland in the process, setting up empty suits of armor for knights, giving orders to Sir Accolon, who had been dust for centuries, waiting for a Lancelot who had never loved her and would never love her. She went mad trying to remake the world in a way reality could not accommodate. Some problems can’t be fixed by magic, and all she had done was drive herself mad trying. I might be many things, but I would not be her. Making love to an imitation Eva, though, would have been a big step in that direction.

Maybe that was what was wrong with Carrie Winn. Perhaps she too longed for something she couldn’t have. Perhaps I had become tangled into her delusion, since it was pretty hard to believe that it was present life me she wanted, for all her talk about how women desired me.

I doubted I would ever know the answer to that question, but I did know what needed to happen now. I needed to make an exit, graceful hopefully, but an exit one way or the other.

BOOK: Living with Your Past Selves (Spell Weaver)
4.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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