Spellbound Falls [5] For the Love of Magic (4 page)

“Then what is your concern? Why are we spying on a bunch of hippies?”

“Hippies?” Duncan said in surprise. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong decade. No, the wrong
century
. The only hippies left are wrinkled and bald and have traded in their Birkenstocks for orthopedic shoes.” He gestured at the smoke rising from several chimneys across Bottomless, now that the western shoreline was no longer blocked by the island. “Near as I can tell, this is a good old-fashioned cult, complete with a new charismatic and probably psychotic leader.”

“Have any members of this cult committed any crimes against the good people of Spellbound or Turtleback,” Titus asked, “or against humanity in general?”

Duncan rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, no, not that I’ve heard. And when any of them come to town, they’ve been peaceful and gracious and buy most of their supplies from Ezra at the Trading Post. But rumor has it they’ve started practicing some sort of magic.” He grinned. “And I thought ye might want to check out your competition.”

“We don’t have a monopoly on the magic,” Mac said, lowering his binoculars. “And a practicing cult in the area might serve to keep suspicion off
us
.”

“But that’s exactly why I’m worried,” Duncan said. “If anything that can’t be explained by science happens around here again, it could be the last straw for the townspeople. And panicked people start looking for something or some
one
to blame, and I’m afraid they’ll decide these people are responsible and go after them. A group of protestors has already started gathering at the road leading down to the colony.”

“I don’t recall anyone panicking four years ago,” Titus said. “In fact, it was almost unanimously decided that Maximilian’s little stunt was a blessing.”

“Because it immediately started putting money in everyone’s pockets,” Duncan countered. “But what if the magic these people are practicing,” he said, waving at the western shore, “
isn’t
benevolent? What if they’re worshipping some badass demon?”

“A vegetarian demon?” Mac drawled.

“Titus and Mac can’t stop these people, Duncan, if that’s why you brought us out here today,” Nicholas said. “They
protect
man’s free will—without judgment.”

“And we will not interfere,” Titus added, “even if that will is deemed evil.”

“Even if it wreaks havoc on innocent people?” Duncan growled.

“Theurgists have no control over mankind,” Nicholas explained. “They’re divine agents of human affairs—the operative word being
agents
. They can only broker solutions, not step in and arbitrarily solve the problems men create. That’s why they have us.” He grinned at the highlander’s surprise. “You and I are not bound by such constraints. If we see something that needs fixing, we’re free to fix it.”

“I signed on to protect the
wilderness
,” Duncan said, glaring at Mac, “not people’s right to call up some ancient, obsolete god. For all we know, it could suddenly show up and start rearranging these mountains—
again
.”

Mac merely smiled.

Titus gestured at the island on their starboard side. “This isn’t an ancient deity, Duncan. Though still weak, the energy these people appear to be calling forth is unlike any I’ve felt before.”

“A new god? Can they do that?”

“If one is needed to serve their purpose.”

“Just by making him up?”

“Or her,” Titus said on a chuckle. “How do you suppose I came to exist? Do you think all the deities of the world simply appeared for no reason? Each of us was
imagined
into being, Duncan, by developing cultures wishing to answer the uniquely human question of life’s purpose. Since the dawn of man, people have wondered where they came from, why they are here, and where they are going.”

“We’re
myths
, Duncan,” Mac added.

“Because,” Titus continued at the highlander’s scowl, “long before modern science could explain the seemingly random events that played such defining roles in their lives, mankind decided an unseen entity must be at work. It was the only way they could make sense of fierce storms, the earth shaking and mountains spewing lava, or entire crops dying for no discernable reason. And so mythologies were born, and grew to be as varied and complex as the societies that created them.”

“But why imagine a new god into existence? What’s wrong with the hundreds of old gods already kicking around? Hell, some of them must be begging for a shot at the limelight again.”

“Because for all of its advancements, science still hasn’t answered the question of
purpose
,” Mac interjected. “Man is beginning to grasp how he came to be, but still searches for
why
he exists.”

“Especially,” Titus added, “since you haven’t found any signs of life anywhere else in your universe yet. And none of us
old gods kicking around
appear to be who these people are searching for.”

Duncan gave a muttered curse.

“If a new deity is being called forth,” Mac continued quietly, nodding toward the colony’s campsite several miles away on the western shoreline, “then we have no choice but to accept the will of the people who are creating it.”

“Even if whatever they’re creating is evil?” Duncan repeated through gritted teeth.

“One man’s demon is another man’s god,” Mac said softly, “and the very reason Dad built Atlantis on which to cultivate his Trees of Life. We protect free will by ensuring mankind’s
knowledge
is protected, and will only act if the Trees themselves are threatened—by god or demon
or
mortal.”

Apparently deciding he wasn’t getting anywhere with the two wizards he’d brought out here today, Duncan folded his arms over his chest and looked at Nicholas. “But you and I can do something about this new demon?”

Nicholas sat down on the bench. “We’ve decided it’s a demon?”

Duncan turned back to the steering wheel with a snort. “They sure as hell aren’t reinventing the tooth fairy.” He sent the boat surging through the swells, but suddenly turned to Nicholas again. “Wait,” he said over the loud hum of the engine. “I thought your father was
Odin
.”

Nicholas dropped his head—to hide his grin, Titus suspected—and shrugged.

“Then if you’re the son of one of these mythical deities like Mac is,” Duncan continued, “how come
you
can help me?”

“I never vowed to protect man’s free will,” Nicholas said as he looked up—indeed grinning. “In fact, I’ve made a career of bending many a man’s will to mine.”

Duncan stared at him for several heartbeats before glancing at Titus and then Mac, then made sure he wasn’t running over any boats or navigational buoys before looking at Nicholas again. “What about your man, Rowan? Did he make any vows?”

Nicholas stiffened. “Why?”

“Because I’ve finally talked the councilmen of both Turtleback and Spellbound into pooling our resources and hiring a chief of police and a couple of officers.”

“Why?” Mac echoed as he also sat back down.

“Because the population of both towns has almost doubled in four years, and it can take over an hour for a sheriff’s deputy to arrive from the other side of the county.”

“Installing your own police force sounds sensible,” Titus said, stepping to the wheel to angle the boat past a distant group of kayakers.

“That’s what we did in Pine Creek several years ago,” Duncan continued as he walked over and sat on the bench. “The townships of Frog Cove and Lost Gore joined up with us. In fact, Greylen MacKeage’s daughter, Megan, is married to the chief of police, Jack Stone.” Duncan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees to see Nicholas. “So what about Rowan? Do ye think he’d be interested in being our chief of police? We’ll give him a truck instead of a resort cart, and I talked the councilmen into adding an apartment over the storefront we intend to remodel into a police station.”

Nicholas was already shaking his head. “You’re not getting my man. Rowan is content being second in command of Nova Mare’s security force.”

“What about Dante then? Or Micah?”

“They’re overseeing Inglenook’s security,” Nicholas growled.

“Why not hire a local?” Mac asked.

“Because I want an Atlantean warrior,” Duncan said. “I need someone I can trust not to shoot first and
then
ask questions when one of your time-traveling guests gets drunk and starts busting up one of the towns’ bars.”

Nicholas leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Would this chief of police not be required to have graduated from your state’s law enforcement academy?” Titus asked.

Duncan snorted. “Even I can conjure up a diploma.”

“No,” Nicholas repeated, this time directing his dissent at Titus. “I’m not giving up one of my men.” He leaned forward to glare at Duncan. “Offer the position to Alec or another one of your MacKeage or MacBain cousins. All the men in your clans have served in the military and they’re familiar with the magic.”

“Jane’s not going to let Alec strap on a gun,” Duncan countered, using his nephew’s pet name for Carolina. “Assuming I could even talk him into it,” he added with a shake of his head. “I’m not sure what happened, but Alec came home from his last tour of duty a friggin’ pacifist.”

“He must have forgotten that a year ago last September,” Mac drawled as he rubbed his jaw, referring to his heated little encounter with the man who was about to become his brother-in-law—hopefully
before
he became a father.

Apparently deciding he wasn’t getting anywhere with Nicholas this time, Duncan looked up at Titus. “Give me one of your Atlantean warriors.”

Knowing Nicholas wasn’t budging, Titus offered an alternative. “What about your ancestor, Niall MacKeage? He’s had a year and a half to acclimate to this century.”

Duncan stilled in surprise, then suddenly shook his head. “The guy’s wrecked two trucks, a snowmobile,
and
a jet boat, and last fall he somehow managed to bury one of my excavators under ten feet of dirt
while
he was in it.” His eyes turned pained. “Niall also has a love-hate relationship with firearms, and his solution to most problems is bludgeoning them to death.”

“He sounds perfect,” Nicholas snapped.

Duncan shot to his feet. “He’s a loose cannon,” the highlander snapped back. “Jack’s already hauled Niall into jail twice; once for tossing some guy out of Pete’s Bar and Grill
without
opening the door first, then another time for asking a young girl on a date.”

“Dating is a crime?” Mac said in surprise.

“She was
sixteen
.”

“Then why hasn’t de Gairn sent Niall back to his original time?” Mac asked, referring to Matt Gregor—who was married to Greylen MacKeage’s youngest daughter—by his drùidh name.

Duncan dropped his head with a sigh. “Because Niall is old Uncle Ian’s eldest son, and apparently after Ian returned home, he secretly told Niall all about living in this time and that his dying wish was for his son to live in this century.”

“How accommodating of us to invite him here to court Carolina,” Mac muttered.

“Has no one considered that Niall might simply be bored?” Titus asked. “The man was laird of the clan MacKeage back in the twelfth century, after all, and is likely having trouble adjusting to a society where his skills are outdated. Perhaps he merely needs something on which to focus his passion and energy.”

“I agree,” Nicholas interjected, leaning back again and folding his arms with a smug smile. “Niall MacKeage would make a perfect chief of police.”

“Not as perfect as an Atlantean warrior,” Duncan returned tightly. “This place is crawling with foreign tourists, and Niall doesn’t speak all the languages like your men.”

“Neither do you, Duncan,” Titus quietly pointed out.

“God dammit, the guy’s likely to shoot somebody his first day on the job!”

“Clans don’t elect stupid men as their lairds,” Maximilian calmly interjected. “Could you not at least think about offering the position to Niall?”

Duncan narrowed his eyes at him. “You want
another
MacKeage moving to Spellbound Falls?”

Mac grinned. “I have no more sisters to protect from your clansmen.”

Not that he’d succeeded in protecting Carolina from falling in love with Alec, Titus thought with a silent chuckle as he handed the wheel back over to Duncan. But then, being very much her mother’s daughter, once Carolina made up her mind on a matter, the gods themselves couldn’t alter her course.

“What in hell is that?” Duncan asked, leaning out of the wheelhouse. “When are people going to realize that a sea with strong currents and friggin’ whales is no place for bathtubs posing as boats,” he muttered, changing course to avoid the small sailboat entering the choppy swells in front of the point of land separating the fiord from the main body of Bottomless.

Yes, Maximilian’s little epic stunt four years ago, when he’d sent an underground river surging inland from the Gulf of Maine and moved mountains to create a fiord that extended Bottomless another twelve miles northward, had turned Spellbound Falls and Turtleback Station from forgotten dots on a wilderness road into tourist boomtowns.

“Maybe what the idiot needs is a good scare,” Duncan continued, adjusting their course again to cut across the sailboat’s bow. He blew out a heavy sigh. “I’m thinking we probably need a marine patrol more than we need a police force.”

“That’s well and good, Duncan,” Titus said with a chuckle, realizing Rana had discovered he’d unlocked her boathouse. “But I prefer you not teach this particular idiot a lesson, as I do believe that’s my wife.”

“Mother?” Mac said, shooting to his feet as Duncan immediately brought the boat back to an idle.

“What in Hades is she doing in that barnacle-infested old scow?” Nicholas asked, also standing to lean against the rail. He looked at Titus. “You can’t mean to let her on Bottomless in that tub. The water is barely above freezing and that boat’s not safe in anything over a breeze.”

Titus brushed at nothing on his jacket. “I apparently no longer have any say over what Rana does.” He met Nicholas’s glare with one of his own. “You think you can fare any better, then by all means you try talking some sense into her.”