Chapter Five: Unshackled Power
On his knees with Morgana gripping the back of his neck and her power wrapped around his body, Greg Parker fought to maintain his composure. The last time her magic had been this close… Panic welled, right along with a vivid flash of fighting with all his might – and losing miserably. His friends, forced into their Animagus forms for the first time. Robbed of their very humanity. The only good thing was that the 'team sense' was down and he was reasonably confident that not even Morgana could heal the damage caused by dragonfire. His team was safe – she wouldn't be able to control them, not like before.
Outlined by Emilia's red-gold, Marina's eyes were fixed on him, terror writ large, but he could sense her trust in him. Her faith that he would – could – protect her, no matter what happened. He wished it were true.
The emerald power loosened its band around his chest and he worked his jaw for an instant. Seizing his chance, he locked his attention on Morgana's sister. "Emilia, wasn't it?" Not waiting for her reply, he forged ahead. "You made one demand of Marina. Bring me to you. She did that."
The blonde sorceress hissed, lifting her left hand; as her fingers curled, he jerked against Morgana's restraints, pain erupting as Emilia's magic bore down on his mind. Crushing his head in a vice grip. "Silence, peasant."
"I would hear him, Sister."
Emilia glanced up, fingers relaxing as her brown eyes widened. "You would hear the words of a miserable scut desperate to save his own skin?"
He shuddered as Morgana's hand tightened on the back of his neck. "Speak, little knight. We are listening."
Hazel found Marina's eyes, gathering strength. "Marina did what you wanted. You have me and you didn't even have to wait for the end of today to get me. If you let her go without hurting her or her family, I won't try to escape. I won't fight whatever you do to me."
Emilia sneered, but Morgana spoke before she could. "You would bow to us in return for releasing one who betrayed you? One who attacked your own?"
"Yes, she did that," Parker acknowledged. "She betrayed my trust and did everything she could to drive mio nipotes away. And when that didn't work, she willingly brought mio nipote to your sister." He shifted his gaze up to Emilia. "My job is to protect the citizens of Toronto. All the citizens of Toronto, regardless of my personal feelings." Hazel narrowed. "You threatened Marina's parents. Her sister, brother-in-law, and their children. All of them are under my protection as an officer of the Toronto Police Department."
"Enough," Emilia shrieked, fingers curling; he bit back a scream as razor-sharp talons dug into his mind. "You defy the Goddess with your very existence, little Wild Mage. How dare you spurn Her Judgment!"
Every word sent a fresh stab of pain driving deep into his skull, but he forced them out regardless. "I follow the Lion." A breath, gathering all his remaining strength. "I believe in a Free Narnia."
Scarlet blazed, inside and out; emerald restraints shattered as if made of glass. The lion rampant on his shoulder let out a roar that echoed in the enclosed space as every piece of his armor reacted to his declaration. Even Marina's restraints of red-gold collapsed with a shriek of metal being ripped apart. He lunged, reaching his ex-fiancé even as the witches reeled, and one hand hovered over his gun as he whipped around to face them, but he hesitated to draw. That would cross a line he wasn't sure he and Marina would survive.
Even so, he lifted his chin, letting the gryphon in his soul emerge, scarlet dappling his native hazel. The officer's stance was solid, wide enough to guard the frightened woman at his back, but tight enough that he could control every move he made. Maybe he couldn't save himself or Marina, but he'd bloody well avenge them.
He was trying to protect her. She'd dragged him right into the middle of her mess, again, and he was trying to protect her! No hesitation, no regret. Only the fierce determination overlaid with gentle persistence that had drawn her to him in the first place. Marina fought back tears as realization dawned. He was fighting so very hard for her, but…these women. These witches, they didn't care. They just wanted blood.
Emilia's eyes were alight with that awful red-gold light, almost joyful as she curled her fingers to silence her Greg with magic. Hurting him – he didn't scream, but his expression twisted and she knew. And still, her Greg wouldn't stop. Instead, he threw out words she heard, but didn't understand. Who was the lion? What did C.S. Lewis's Narnia have to do with anything?
There was a sound. Two sounds. A screech of warping metal; the high, tinkling sound of delicate glass shattering on the ground. And her Greg, glowing scarlet. No, not him, not entirely. It was the oddly medieval armor he'd changed into. Every piece of it shone with a layer of scarlet magic, shimmering as it coated his arms, chest, and legs. Even the holster of his gun was lit up with that sheen of scarlet magic. At his belt, the buckle shaped like a leaf had come to life, forest-emerald twining around silver leaf-veins.
Greg surged up, launching for her and whirling to face their attackers as soon as he reached her. His right hand rested on his gun, though he didn't draw it, and his left arm was outstretched, as though holding an invisible shield. She could feel his protective spirit, focusing on guarding her no matter what the cost and nearly wept for relief.
Greg would save them. He would get them out and then… Then she could throw herself at his feet and beg him to forgive her. To give her another chance.
This. This was not how Morgana had envisioned her sister's plan going. And yet, she was intrigued. True, Morgause had been correct – Parker's dedication to being a hero had made it inevitable that he would follow his little mouse right back to their trap. However…
She had expected that when reminded of the little mouse's treachery, Parker would react much as her half-brother did. Hurt, perhaps even arguing against the obvious, but ultimately turning on the one who'd betrayed him. A calm acceptance of her statement, coupled with a brief recitation of the mouse's crimes, and then recommitting to protecting her – that wasn't how these things worked. She was almost offended – how dare Parker upend a basic tenant of her reality? How dare he offer that little mouse forgiveness she hadn't earned?
In front of her, Morgause was puffing up in indignation of her own – how dare the peasant reinforce his defiance of the Triple Goddess by swearing allegiance to that mewling cat and his so-called nation of Talking Beasts? Didn't he know that all magicals, by their very nature, were sworn to the Old Religion's service? There were no exceptions – the Goddess laid claim to every witch, wizard, warlock, magician, sorcerer, and sorceress that had ever walked the Earth. Magic was Her Gift – to possess it was to be beholden to Her.
The blonde sorceress stepped forward, lifting her right hand. Parker tensed, but didn't draw his weapon. "Impressive," she purred, a hint of malice interlaced with her tone. "Perhaps you are a worthy opponent, peasant."
"Funny how you didn't think that till you got a good look at my magic," Parker snapped, no longer bothering to conceal his contempt.
Morgause snorted. "Even the mightiest have no defense against magic, peasant."
"I think you'd be surprised what we Muggles can do," the stocky man hissed.
How very interesting. He had embraced his magic, yet still saw himself as a Muggle. Perhaps a deliberate way to identify himself with his non-magical subordinates? Curious, curious indeed.
Her sister eyed their captives, not responding immediately. When she did, her voice had turned conciliatory. "Your bravery has not gone unmarked, peasant. Perhaps we may bargain for the woman's freedom." She let that ring in the air. "Swear allegiance to the Triple Goddess and Her High Priestesses and I vow that we shall not touch the woman, her family, or your own."
One brow rose above hazel dappled scarlet. "So. You're willing to let us go so long as I forfeit my soul." He shook his head slowly. "Not much of a deal from my perspective, 'specially since the first thing you'd do is demand I attack my own in the name of your goddess."
Oh, very good. Very good. Morgana applauded lightly, ignoring Morgause's disgruntlement that she'd been so easily seen through. It was so fun to see the befuddlement on Parker's face, the squint to his eyes as he tried to figure out what she was up to. "Sister," she cried, malicious delight ringing loud. "You cannot sway this one. He is most intent upon his own destruction."
"So I see," Morgause agreed. A shadowy fireball erupted above her fingers. "Draw that weapon, peasant, and I shall not hesitate."
For an instant, Morgana saw Parker battle with himself. Weigh the odds. Then he sighed and let his right hand slip away from his sidearm. He remained where he was, but his stance changed from challenging to at-ease. The closest he could get to surrendering without removing what little protection he could offer his mouse.
"Excellent." The fireball flexed wider in unspoken threat. "Sister."
Morgana smirked and gestured, conjuring her Patronus. The elegant high-class mare appeared with a snort, emerald outlining pure white hooves, delicate legs, and perfectly sculpted ears. The white muzzle turned towards Parker, whuffling gently into the palm he stretched out. Humph. He'd clearly been studying up on equines – he had the wide-eyed look of a novice beneath the forced calm. Then he reached up and stroked the Patronus' head. Morgana felt her jaw give way as her Patronus leaned into the petting, whickering. By the Triple Goddess, how was this possible? Patroni were magical conjurations, no more substantial than ghosts. You couldn't pet them! But clearly, Parker had missed the memo, as the modern-day peasants were apt to say.
She wiped away her astonishment before Morgause could turn and sniffed loudly in disdain. "How very typical of you, Lieutenant. Petting a Patronus." Inwardly, she flinched at the wounded expression her mare managed to affect. Flicking a finger, she sent the mare trotting towards a door that led out of the sisters' private area into the larger building. "Follow."
The stocky officer shot her a fulsome glare, but obeyed, ushering his mouse alongside him until they reached the doorway. A beat before the door, he nudged her in front, acting as her rearguard, though his stance made it plain he expected a dagger in the back at any moment. Morgana frowned, tapping one fingernail against her bottom lip. It had to be an act – no one was that selfless, that willing to overlook past offences.
And yet, doubt niggled at her. An unfamiliar emotion was burgeoning in her chest, one she refused to acknowledge even as it lightened the darkness that had been her faithful companion for centuries upon centuries.
It is time, little guardian. Let us see your quality.
In the back of his mind was a litany from every SRU handbook he'd ever read and every course on negotiation he'd ever taken. All of them pointing out the one-million-and-one ways he'd screwed up the negotiation with the le Fay sisters from the get-go. On the opposite side were his instincts and prior encounters – direct and indirect – with said sisters. That side was adamant that negotiation had been so laughably futile that he'd gained more by taking a strong stance and refusing to bend. Not to mention the fact that magic was involved and when magic was in play, words mattered far more than they did in your standard every day negotiating.
He let the debate go on for a good minute or so – just long enough for Morgana's equine Patronus to guide himself and Marina to their destination. Then he shut down the debate in favor of eyeing the medieval cell built into the building's outer wall. Hmmm…a corner cell, too. Far roomier than the last cell Morgana had shoved him into. Must be coming up in the world to rate a cell large enough to move around in.
Greg swallowed down the acid sarcasm and turned around, continuing to keep himself between Marina and the le Fay sisters as Morgana used her magic to herd them into the cage. Beside her, Emilia allowed her fireball to dissipate in favor of snapping her fingers; the cell door banged shut only inches from the end of his nose and he jumped involuntarily. Judging by the matching smiles, he had a nasty feeling he was about to regret getting out of bed in the morning.
Morgana swooped in close, emerald sparkling as she stretched an arm through the bars towards his chin; he backed away, out of reach. Briefly, she pouted at him, then eased back. "As you will, little knight." Stroking the bars, she smiled, malicious delight oozing off her. "You have my deepest condolences on the forthcoming death of your fiancé, little knight."
Marina squeaked and he widened his stance, hazel hardening towards topaz. He would not let them hurt her. Not while he still had breath in his body.
"Just so," Emilia drawled. "We shall give the two of you a moment to farewell."
"You'll have to go through me, first," he growled.
The sorceress laughed, a haughty, sneering laugh that grated against hearing and nerves alike. "Do you imagine that I would sully myself with such an insignificant mouse?" Glee spread across her face, along with an eager anticipation of the events at hand. "Oh, no, peasant. 'Tis not I who will harm your mouse. No, no, no – it shall be at your hand alone that she falls."
"Never," he vowed.
Her smile never faltered. "No?" she inquired, coy with knowledge that sent a thrill of fear up his spine. "Let us see if your magic agrees, peasant."
Before he could react – do or say anything – she flung out a hand. Red-gold picked him up, yanking him forward and flipping him around in mid-air so his back struck the bars and he was facing a petrified Marina.
"Greg!"
Even as she cried his name, emerald power forced her backwards to the cell's outer wall, forming a shield that stretched across the center of the enclosure. Fear morphed into dread as he inspected the magical barrier keeping him from Marina. He knew how protective his gryphon side was of his Flock. How it reacted to threats against his Pride. He'd seen it all before, back when he'd been at the mercy of his own magic and animal instincts.
Part of him wanted to beg – he didn't want to go back to that! To living in fear of himself. Wondering how long he could hold out against the darkest part of his soul. The nightmares of the chaos he could – would – unleash if the feral gryphon inside him ever got loose.
But he knew – they were going to do it, no matter what he said. Begging would only bring him right back to the same offer he'd already rejected. So he fixed his eyes on Marina and prayed the Lion's protection would be enough to stop them.
"Déor heortscræf cwicast eorðcynn ġeþanc. Hwara cynehláford āsēcþ, swá āsēċaþ allan, oþþæt Þrifildan Gydenu drífeþ. (1)"
Power erupted, striking him with all the force of a lightning bolt; he couldn't have cried out if his life depended on it as every nerve from head to toe went wild. He felt his heart thrashing in his chest, beating so rapidly that he feared it would explode and his eyes burned.
He struggled, the depths of his soul begging for help. For the Lion to stop what was happening. Keep him from whatever hell the le Fay sisters had planned. But the power spreading through mind, heart, and soul was unstoppable. Fingers and toes went numb, followed by hands and feet. The numbness spread inwards, through arms and legs, hips and shoulders, and into his chest. He gasped as the feeling in his heart, lungs, and magical core vanished, throwing his head back in futile resistance. In between one gulp and the next, he realized he couldn't feel his throat. His jaw or tongue or nose. Then the spell hit his brain and his mind screamed an instant before his whole body went slack, pure scarlet blazing in place of hazel.
[1] Old English for 'Animal heart becomes human mind. Where liege-lord-king goes, so go all, until the Triple Goddess speaks.'
Author Note: I have officially finished my first week on the new team. So far so good, but the real work will come in a week (and a few days) when I come back from my vacation to Chicago.
In other news, I will be posting another Art Commission from Makangeni over on Archive of Our Own. The Art Commission will be going up on Thursday, September 14th, my birthday. I invite all my readers here to wander on over and check it out! Just not today. Wait until the 14th - the only thing today is this chapter. *wink, wink*