Charlotte descends into the underworld, following the streams and currents of energy that surround Atlantis.
Adam has entrusted the remainder of Orion Schema to her. Now she pits the Concordance’s great structure against the wards that surround an entire civilization.
Irresistible force and immovable object collide, with Charlotte Palmer at the center of it. The essence of the Atlantean ward is to forget, and to fight it she inscribes the concealed truths of the ward upon the psychic fabric of the Schema. She watches as Orion Schema’s tattered remnants take up the ghostly form of Atlantises long past, of invasions and subjugations and reformations.
There’s not enough of the Schema to totally defeat the ward, but there’s enough to bore a tunnel to the center. That’s all Charlotte needs.
Surrounded by her own personal wards and shields, she dives into the gap. Power assaults her from every side. But she passes through, and surfaces from the endless ocean of the underworld into a physical cavern.
A circle of men and women are gathered here, intent on a ritual. Around them, hundreds of human beings are caged, and their prisons are marked with arcane sigils.
At a glance, Charlotte understands what’s happening here. This is the keystone of Atlantis’ psychic defense, but one erected by human beings and powered by human souls.
The ritualists cease their work and turn, almost as one. Charlotte can see their faces. She notes the resemblance.
“The Hidden Family of the Vyortovian Throne. Why?” she asks.
“The despair enacted by the Atlanteans on the surface will break through the last of the Concordance’s barriers,” one Family member says, iron-gray hair and blue eyes denoting age and suggesting seniority. “The accumulated despair they’ve heaped upon the earth will break free and wash over the world. Those affected will lose the will to live. This will give us all the souls we’ve ever wanted. We will rule as gods forevermore, in a world beyond life and death.”
“And what if I stop you?” Charlotte asks sweetly.
“To have such power would transform you into the god we desire to be,” the Leader of the Family responds, lips curled into a sneer.
“If I find another way?”
“We will force your hand.” The Leader gives cry. “Aēšma-daēva! Obey your oath!”
Charlotte watches as a creature, tall as the cavern, take shape. A demonic prince, riding a dragon, a powerful and cruel spear clasped in one clawed hand.
“Destroy the Magus!” the Leader commands. “Do not waver from this command under any circumstances!”
I obey, the demon prince’s voice booms out. It urges its draconic mount toward Charlotte, and she instinctively shields herself as flames emanate from the dragon’s mouth to engulf her.
The rest of the ritualists resume their work, closing up the gap that she’s created. If they succeed, she may be unable to leave.
She thinks quickly, about what she knows of such summoned creatures. The tomes of lore provided by Resister were deeply knowledgeable and rich with details. What there could aid her?
Such demons know all things, and wish to answer questions. Lucius calls them “the nuclear weapons of the supernatural world” - knowledge about them is easily spread, difficult to contain, even more difficult to restrain. They obey orders, cleverly but not creatively, in service to their summoners.
Will it work?
She tries it.
“Aēšma-daēva! It will weaken me to know the answer to a question. Will you kill the Magus and only the Magus?”
She is absolutely truthful in what she says. That is key.
The creature does indeed answer, as its spear - longer than a tractor-trailer rig on the highway - thrusts with horrid speed at her position. Yes.
“It will weaken me further to know your vulnerabilities!”
I have none. My prowess in battle is peerless.
The gap in the spiritual ward is closing fast.
“Palamedes!” she calls out. “Son of Nauplius and Clymene! I seek vengeance!”
Palamedes responds to her call almost immediately, hovering in the air nearby. His eyebrow goes up at the magnitude of the opponent. “I’m not fighting that for you,” he says sardonically.
As more dragon’s breath comes in, Charlotte takes to the air. She dodges the spear’s swing again, an act uncomfortably like dodging an oncoming car at full speed.
This will have to be done deftly.
She pulls a coin from her pocket and flips it. The coin tumbles in the air, the light of the cavern and the red fury of the flame reflecting off its cool metal surface. As it comes down, she focuses her power on the Agate Staff–
Charlotte Heads commands Palamedes, “Grant him the garment you wove for me!”
Charlotte Tails commands Palamedes, “Grant him the garment you wove for me!”
In a moment, in two parallel worlds created by the flip of a coin, the office of the Magus is stripped from her. The veteran god, with her permission, unweaves the many spiritual strands. In turn, they begin wrapping themselves around Aēšma-daēva.
“You won’t be getting this back,” two versions of Palamedes tell two versions of Charlotte.
The coin falls into her hand. She clutches it, knowing that she can never see which way it fell.
The magic of the Agate Staff does what she wished. It isolates the demon from the merging of worlds. The cavern is whole again, occupying a singular and unified timeline, with one exception. There are two versions of Aēšma-daēva. Both wear the office of the Magus, adorned upon their souls.
Both recognize the other as their enemy, the Magus. Both begin to attack the other. Both are evenly matched. Neither will give up, though it takes an eternity. And it will.
As the battle rages within the cavern, the Leader of the Family begins to panic. “You - what have you done?” he demands of Charlotte.
“I’m giving up the family business. Godhood isn’t for me.”
“No matter. We ourselves still have enough power to restrain you, now that you’ve surrendered your only shield.”
Charlotte gasps, realizing that her defenses are truly gone.
Smirking, the Leader gestures. Other ritualists begin to chant. Spiritual chains rise from the ground, engulfing Charlotte, and dragging her into a cage ready-made to hold her.
“Hahahahaha!” The Leader laughs maniacally, and picks up the fallen Agate Staff. “Soon it will happen, my fellows, my followers, my family! Soon all our dreams will become reality! Soon our wishes will be made fact!”
The ritualists cheer, and resume their rites, each confident in their heart that if they continue the work, all will become just as they dream. It will be just like waking up from their dream into a grand new world where they rule.
It will be all just like their dream.
Just like their dream.
Just like…
“I’m giving up the family business. Godhood isn’t for me.”
“No matter. We ourselves still have enough power to restrain you, now that you’ve surrendered your only shield.”
“Not my only. I have a crown in shield,” answers Charlotte obliquely.
When Devon Crowninshield attempted to force ascension upon her, parasitic ghosts descended on her, and she’d woven them into the fabric of the Magus’ regalia. Now they float freely in the chamber.
“Palamedes! Grant these benighted souls revenge against the Hidden Family!” she calls.
“With pleasure,” the god snarls.
The ghosts sup upon the greatest source of energy here - the ritual of forgetting and deception that shields Atlantis. And they descend upon the hapless ritualists, attaching themselves like parasites, engulfing each one in a cocoon of dreams.
Charlotte takes stock of what has happened. “They’re dreaming of their victory,” she concludes. “Like the Lotus-eaters in the Odyssey.”
“Just so.”
“Then my invocation of you is over, Palamedes. Thank you.”
“The revenge you enacted was sweet, my dear. Let us hope our next meeting is so mutually fruitful.”
The god vanishes, and Charlotte begins to attend to the vital duty of freeing the human captives and breaking up the ritual circle. It will take time, and must be rushed as the two massive demons engage in their titanic - and highly destructive - struggle. And she is no longer the Magus, but now only Ghost Girl.
But Charlotte Palmer is always Charlotte Palmer, whatever power she may possess. Rescuing the living and the dead alike is what she is on this Earth to do. And by God, she will do it.