A Calculated Magic

9

“I refuse,” said Freda Collins, a few moments later, as Bryan served their salads, “to let that lout, Loki, spoil our celebration,” She raised her champagne glass. “Drink up. In Valhalla, we never worried about the morrow. We lived only for the moment.”

“Yeah,” said Hugo. “Eat, drink, and be merry. You know the rest. Typical dumb Norse credo.”

“Bird,” said Freda evenly, “I can wring your neck as easily as the frost giant. And Cassandra would probably lend me a hand.”

“Listen,” said Jack, anxious to escape the squabbling, “the band’s playing a slow number,” He pushed back his chair. “Megan and I love to dance. We’ll be back before the main course is served.”

Except for a few older couples, they had the dance floor to themselves. Jack eased Megan about, enjoying the sensation of holding her close. Her head resting on his chest sent his pulse racing.

“Calm down, handsome,” she declared, giggling, “or you’ll get us arrested.”

“Not here,” said Jack. “Morality seems to be one of the few human traits not adopted by the supernaturals. They are totally without shame.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Megan.

“It’s not their fault,” said Jack. “Remember, they’re creations of mankind’s collective subconscious. Thus, they embody all of humanity’s suppressed dreams and desires. A common fantasy among both men and women is a nonviolent encounter with a sexually aggressive partner. The supernaturals can’t help acting the way they do. We’re the ones who programmed them that way.”

“Well, keep your hands to yourself where nymphs are concerned,” said Megan. “Those women are well beyond the aggressive stage. They’ve evolved into predators. And to them, you’re a particularly choice cut of beef.”

“A fact,” said Jack truthfully, “that never ceases to amaze me. I’m neither particularly handsome or exceedingly muscular. Beautiful ladies never treated me like a sex object before.”

“Push your own analysis a step further,” said Megan, snuggling even closer. “Humans have always dreamed about romantic liaisons with legendary characters. Encounters that featured the visionary playing the lead role. Those thoughts were, in turn, embedded in the basic character of supernaturals. The nymphs don’t want rugged barbarians. They want the men whose imaginings created them. In other words, guys like you.”

“Thanks,” said Jack. “I think.”

“Don’t pout,” said Megan. “I find you quite handsome and very desirable. And I’m not pre-programmed.”

“Very desirable?” asked Jack.

“Very,” said Megan, running her fingers slowly along the back of his neck. Her touch sent shivers running down his spine.

The song ended and reluctantly they returned to their table. Fortunately, during their absence, all disagreements had been settled peaceably. Freda and Cassandra were reminiscing about old battles while Hugo regaled Fritz Grondark with bawdy tales about the sex lives of elves. A few moments after Jack and Megan resumed their seats, Bryan arrived with the main course.

The food was superb. As promised, it was a memorable meal. Though Jack found it somewhat disconcerting watching Hugo ripping and swallowing chunks of boar flesh only inches away from his own plate. Nor did it help when halfway through their dinner, the bird belched, then declared loudly, “The only thing lacking is a pint of blood to wash down the grease.”

“There’s Cartaphilus, the Wandering Jew,” said Megan, trying to point out some of the notables to Jack as they ate. “He plays chess with Father once a month. Under a pen name, he writes travel books.”

Hercules, when spotted wandering close to the bandstand, resembled a professional wrestler. The distinguished cut of his tuxedo could not hide the bulging muscles in his chest and arms. He nodded pleasantly to Cassandra when she waved.

“One of the few men I admire,” admitted the Amazon. “He’s always treated me with respect.”

“The good-looking blonde at the front table is Elaine, the Lady of the Lake,” continued Megan. “Father’s known her for hundreds of years,” She lowered her voice so only Jack could hear her. “I think she and Arthur were more than just good friends, if you catch my drift. Dad refuses to discuss the subject. He’s a stick when it comes to gossip.”

Over strong coffee and mints, talk turned from celebrities to more serious topics.

“Loki can’t be trusted,” said Freda, draining her cup in one gulp, “but I doubt if he will interfere in your mission. Though he pretends otherwise, the trickster is a coward by nature. Despite his laughter, you frightened him here tonight, Johnnie. Whatever his involvement with these matters, I believe he will remain inactive until a clear winner emerges.”

“He did mention the Old Man of the Mountain,” said Cassandra. “Which confirms your suspicions. Now we know for sure who our enemy is.”

“Our current enemy,” corrected Jack. “Still lurking somewhere in the background is our primary foe—a demigod from the dawn of civilization. It’s the one we have to defeat to save the world.”

’The Ancient Ones were created without weaknesses,” said Cassandra, a note of apprehension in her voice. Supremely confident in her own abilities, the Amazon feared no mortal or supernatural opponent. However, an actual god presented a unique challenge. “Their worshipers believed them immortal and indestructible.”

“As was the All-Father,” said Freda Collins. “Under one name or another, he existed from the end of the ice age till the coming of the White Christ. Yet, in the end, the priests vanquished Odin and the Aesir without engaging in a single battle.”

“They were disbelieved out of existence,” said Jack. “The first commandment specified ‘Thou shall have no other gods before me.’ As Christianity spread across half the world, the passionate beliefs of its worshipers wiped out the pagan gods. With so many people believing they did not exist, they couldn’t. They vanished into the outer darkness.”

“Until some imbecile summoned one back to our world,” said Megan. “Forcing us to battle a pagan demigod intent on reestablishing its rule over mankind.”

“But why doesn’t this first commandment still work?” asked Hugo. “Nobody believes in the Ancient Ones these days.”

“Exactly,” said Jack. “Nobody believes and hasn’t in hundreds of years. The first commandment lost its power once the last of the pagan gods disappeared. Ordinary people stopped disbelieving because there were no longer any false gods to deny. That’s our problem. Understand?”

“No,” said Hugo. “Call me a birdbrain, but I’m still lost.”

“The Ancient One returned to our world not through belief but by magic. As a god, ordinary sorcery doesn’t work against it. It can be banished only through disbelief. But we’re the only ones who know it exists. And it takes thousands if not millions of people to disbelieve it to limbo.”

“So you first gotta convince a bunch of bozos to believe in this god,” said Hugo, “then persuade them to not believe in it any longer.” The bird paused, then shook its head in a very humanlike gesture. “Good luck.”

“Now you understand why Loki laughed,” said Jack. “It’s a complicated situation.”

“You’ll find the solution, honey,” said Megan, patting Jack’s hand. “Father has complete faith in you. And so do I.”

“Whatever happens,” said Cassandra, “you can count on me. An Amazon’s loyalty never wavers.”

“I don’t make friends easy,” declared Fritz Grondark, “but like Cassandra here, when I make them, I stick with them. That’s the dwarven code.”

“With friends like these,” said Jack’s mother, “how can you fail.” She grinned. “Of course, being your mother, I have to say that.”

“You guys talk too much,” said Hugo. “That’s why I liked the All-Father. He never spoke without a purpose.”

“He was a rather taciturn individual,” said Freda. “I never once recall hearing him laugh, Ragnarok weighed heavily on his mind. And it was hard for him to concentrate in Valhalla, considering the hall was always filled with a noisy bunch of drunken heroes.”

“It wasn’t his style,” said Hugo. “Odin disliked senseless chatter.”

Glancing at Megan, Jack raised his eyebrows in mock astonishment. His fiancée giggled. One thing they agreed upon was that all supernaturals loved to talk. Dream creations, they were brash, impulsive, melodramatic, and bold. And rarely silent for more than a few seconds. It was part of their nature.

“I could talk all night,” said Freda Collins, as if reading her son’s mind, “but I have an early flight to catch tomorrow morning. Mr. Weissman placed a big order with the company. I need to return home to supervise its delivery.”

“Damn and double damn,” said Hugo. “Just when things were getting interesting here.”

“Don’t worry, bird,” said Freda, signaling Bryan for the check. “I’ve decided to leave you and Mongo here with Jack. He needs all the help he can get.”

“Hey, great news,” the bird said, and hopped onto Jack’s shoulder. “I love a good fight. Especially the mop-up afterward. You know, examining the bodies…”

“Stop,” said Jack, “before you get started.” He looked at his mother. “I appreciate the offer of the ravens, but are you sure you can manage without them?”

“Manage?” said Freda with a laugh. “After centuries of listening to their advice, a few weeks without their croaking will be like returning to Valhalla.”

“It’s settled then,” said Hugo. “We’re part of the team.” Flapping its wings, the blackbird launched itself into the air. “Wait till I tell Mongo.”

Staring at his mother as she counted out money for the bill, Jack wondered if the whole dinner hadn’t been planned to reach this exact conclusion. Knowing his mom, it seemed quite possible. Mentally, he shrugged his shoulders. Though Hugo had a bloodthirsty streak equal to Cassandra’s, he found the bird otherwise entertaining company. And Mongo as well. Working with them should prove to be an interesting, if not unique, experience.