Prospero Regained

by L. Jagi Lamplighter

  Titus shook his head. “I was a stubborn lad. My tutor despaired of me. Said I could not be taught to read. Erasmus just laughed and took me under his wing. Within a few months, I was reading Aristotle and Chaucer.”

  “I did not know that about him,” I said.

  “His eldest son Sebastian and I were the best of friends.” Gregor paced back and forth to fight the cold. “What a cheerful house they had, Erasmus and Maria. I adored her. They always welcomed me, made me feel at home. I am not surprised he still misses her.” Gregor looked down at his hands, frowning. “He was a fine man when he wanted to be. Unfortunately, he seldom wanted to try. I see now, though, that it was because he had lost heart.”

  “I wish I had realized how hard things were for him.” Theo sat with his head in his hands. “He did such a good job being clever and snide, it never occurred to me that he might be suffering. He did so much: taught, cast spells, investigated medicine.”

  “He drove himself very hard,” Mephisto whispered. He sat on the bare ice, his face wan and dejected. “I used to watch him do things, one after another after another.”

  “It was probably his only way of keeping himself going,” Ulysses said. “Some blokes are like that.” He chafed his cold arms, especially his elbow, where he had bitten a hole in his shirt. “Wish I’d taken the time to get to know him better.”

  I sat still, thinking. Did I have any good memories about Erasmus? Of course I did. He was one of the three who had saved me from the Unicorn Hunters, the day they staked me down during a thunderstorm in an effort to trap my Lady. Three brothers had come to my rescue: Theo, Mephisto, and Erasmus.

  * * *

  FROM across our camp, I saw Mab watching me. A strange tremor traveled up my spine, and I remembered Mab’s suggestion for outwitting Lilith’s trap. For Father, I might have done such a thing. To ask me to make a sacrifice of such proportion to save Erasmus, of all people, was insane. And besides, we could never approach him now. The demons would be gathering to see his death. They would stop us from reaching him.

  A motion in the distance caught my eye. I leaned forward, peering. Suddenly, I knew how to reach Erasmus.

  No. I could not do it.

  Sitting, I pressed my cool hands against my face. My whole body was shaking. It would be a noble gesture, true. One worthy of the “grand compassion” of a Sibyl. “Yet, I could not find within myself the wherewithal to perform such an act of charity. I just did not love Erasmus enough.

  If it were anyone else, even quiet Cornelius or silly wayward Ulysses, I would have done it. But I could not give up the only thing of worth that was left to me to save, of all people, Erasmus.

  Besides, I had no hope of becoming a Sibyl now, so there was no more need for me to live up to such a high standard.

  Only … I lifted my head and gazed across the camp at Caliban’s club, recalling something King Vinae had said to me: So you have lost your rank. Have you turned your back upon your Mistress, as well?… Then, you are still her servant.…

  Was I not still Eurynome’s servant? Did I not love Her as much as I ever had, even if I could not feel Her or hear Her voice? If all demons did was breed lies and deceit, even the darkness that I felt, where once my Lady’s guidance had been, might be a deception. A veil drawn over me by Osae. How could Love, who was everywhere, damn me for being the cacodemon’s victim?

  Slowly, shakily, I rose, and, wiping away tears for the umpteenth time this day, made my way toward Father.

  * * *

  THE wind had shifted direction and was now blowing down from the mountains, bringing with it the scent of rotting flesh. The cries and moans of the creatures trapped in the cages atop the glacier had grown quieter, but the ground still shook whenever the giant banged his great fist. As I crossed our small camp, a lone harpy screamed.

  I walked over to where the rest of my family was huddled. My father sat with a sleeping bag wrapped about his shoulders eating a carrot and a small handful of nuts that had been discovered in Titus’s bag. Theo and Gregor flanked him, while Logistilla sat at his feet. Her dark head rested against his knee as he stroked her hair. My other siblings crowded around as well, except for Cornelius, who sat alone, mourning.

  “Father, I can save Erasmus!” I declared.

  Father raised his head and regarded me with his fierce penetrating gaze. Joy illuminated his features. “Can you?” Then, his face became inscrutable, as if a hood had been put over a candle. “And how many children am I going to lose in the process?”

  “No children, Father. Just…” I bit my lip. “No children.”

  “How many demons will be released?”

  “None!”

  “Indeed?” Father arched a bushy eyebrow. “And yet, one never receives something for nothing. What, then, is the price?”

  I swallowed. “Human lives.”

  Father frowned. “How many?”

  “I don’t know,” I faltered. “A few dozen. A hundred? Maybe millions. It depends upon how quickly my brothers can act afterwards. But if we have everyone working together…”

  Father pressed his fingertips against each other, clearly divided in how he wished to answer. He closed his eyes for a time, though whether praying, contemplating, or merely resting, I could not tell.

  Standing, he paced back and forth, his steps firm and vigorous, despite his weakened state. Several times, he stopped and turned toward us, but each time he shook his head and began pacing again, as if hoping to come to a different conclusion.

  Finally, he joined us again. Taking my hands in his own, he spoke to me gently: “Child, no one loves Erasmus more than I! And no one shall miss him as dearly. But the price is too high.”

  Cornelius tapped his way forward. “Father, how many men has Erasmus saved down through the years? How many more will die if Erasmus is not around to protect them?”

  Father stroked his tangled beard. “That is a good point, Cornelius.” He turned and addressed the club, “Vinae, what is the time?”

  “Eleven thirty-six. You have twenty-four minutes until midnight,” came the voice from the Club.

  “Do not volunteer information,” Father replied tersely. Turning back to me, he took my hands in his. “It is nearly midnight. Nothing you can do could help him in time. Recasting the spell Erasmus cast might take longer than twenty minutes, and I certainly do not want to switch one lost child for another.”

  “But Father, I can do it!” I insisted.

  My father smiled sadly, “What a tangled world we live in that you, of all people, are arguing to save Erasmus, and I am counseling abandoning him.” He touched my face, and I gave him a wan smile.

  “Child, do not think that this decision is a frivolous one on my part,” Father continued. “It is no easy thing to lose a son, especially when there is still a shadow of hope.” Father held out his arm and moved it as if he hefted an invisible weight. “I remember when Erasmus was so small that he could fit in my hand, and when I lifted him, he would open his tiny mouth and laugh—such a cheerful noise as I have never heard before or since.

  “I worried during his awkward years, when he wanted to be like his eldest brother but could not competently compete with Mephisto in any area. I watched with pride as he grew into a fine man, talented and quick of mind. And then, I watched with sorrow and more pride, as his confidence gave way to despair, and yet he did not allow himself to surrender to hopelessness but continued to fulfill his duties, regardless. I do not know how I can do without Erasmus, any more than I could do without you, Miranda.

  “Erasmus is the one who thinks like me, who dreams the dreams I dream and seeks the secrets I seek. He has long been my right hand on my most important projects—the only magician among my children willing to put in the long hours of work and study it takes to accomplish our work. I do not know how I can continue without him.”

  Father lowered his head. I squeezed his hand. He smiled and, pulling me close, embraced me, laying his cheek against my hair. Then, putting me gentl
y aside, he gestured to the others until they came together before him.

  Father addressed us all. “Listen, My Children, and I will share with you what little wisdom my recent trials have taught me. I have learned a great deal from my stay here in Hell. Along with all the harm, some small good has come from my internment. Those terrible thorns chipped away a bit of the hubris under which I labor. Perhaps because of my regret at the schism that developed between myself and my brother Antonio, I have put family loyalty before all other things. I have stressed this, and I have taught it to all of you, feeding it to you along with your mother’s milk. It took this terrible chapter of my life to teach me that even family loyalty must be tempered by wisdom.

  “All that you have endured, all the hardships you have suffered upon my behalf, all this has happened because I could not leave well enough alone when one of my children was lost. And what did it gain me? Nothing. Gregor lives, but Erasmus shall die. No. I have learned my lesson. We will return home and pray for Erasmus’s soul until the angels assure us they have rescued it from this terrible place and taken him home to Heaven.”

  “If Erasmus is welcome in Heaven…” Gregor murmured under his breath.

  Father gave him a sharp look, frowning.

  Cornelius came to join us, his cane tapping on the rocks as he walked. “Father, what of your staff? If we somehow retrieved it, could we resurrect Erasmus?”

  “Only if we had his body,” Father replied. “Unfortunately, Lilith knows this and will not return his corpse. Speaking of my staff, though…”

  He raised his hand. From the distance, there came a whistling. The whistling grew louder and louder. Then, a length of bare wood, with leaves and dogwood flowers growing from it, fell out of the sky and landed on his outstretched palm.

  “Now, that’s a staff!” Father smiled. “I should have made them all able to do that.”

  “Mine does,” Titus smiled proudly. Then, he frowned. “Only it’s not mine anymore. I gave it to Gregor.”

  “Interesting!” Father glanced from Titus to Gregor. Then, he peered more closely at his own staff. “Hmm! Look at this! These flowers are new! Last time I saw it, it was bare. Seems to be resurrecting itself.” Leaning on the staff, he lowered himself, until he was seated on the sleeping bag again. He laid the length of wood down beside him.

  A cheering warmth radiated from the flowering staff. We all moved closer.

  “Father, what are we to do?” asked Logistilla. “We’ll never make it home in this condition. No food. No water, and you can hardly walk.”

  “We will wait a time, until we are certain Erasmus is dead, and then we will use Ulysses’s staff,” Father replied. “It is pointless to consider trekking out of here without the staffs to help us. We would never make it.”

  “Father, won’t you even consider Miranda’s plan?” Cornelius pleaded.

  Father furrowed his bushy brow and fixed his keen eyes upon me. “Without telling me the details—Lilith may have set spies—what would your plan require?”

  “I would need some help to pull it off,” I replied. “We have to go to where Erasmus is, use a plan of Mab’s devising to free Erasmus and then come back safely. I would need Ulysses for that last part, since we’d be free to use our staffs the moment Erasmus was released.”

  Mab’s head shot up as I spoke, unexpected hope kindling in his dark eyes.

  Father considered my words, his hands resting on his thighs. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not worth the risk, Daughter. I would rather lose one child than several. As it is, we need only wait half an hour, and everyone who is still here will make it home alive. I am sorry, Cornelius. I love Erasmus, too, and I will miss him terribly. Yet, my final answer must be: No.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down next to Father, who leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Father was back. He was in charge again. I did not need to worry any longer. If he did not want me to save Erasmus, I need not feel guilty about not making the sacrifice.

  Cornelius slowly tapped his way across the snow until he found a ledge of ice, some dozen feet from the rest of us. He sat down there and bowed his head, weeping bitterly.

  * * *

  I CANNOT describe the battle that then raged within me. All my logic, all my reason, all my sanity screamed to listen to Father and obey his pronouncement. But, I now knew the truth. The part of me that wished to obey Father so blindly could do nothing else but obey Father’s will.

  I could not go to it for counsel.

  What my heart said was very different. It said the pain Cornelius felt at the loss of Erasmus was even greater than what I would have felt had Theo died. For I merely loved Theo as a brother. I did not need him to live a decent life. Cornelius loved Erasmus, but he also depended upon him. Cornelius was so quiet, so subtle in his dealings, that he had made himself nearly invisible. Father and Titus and Theo all loved him, but how often did they stop to take thought for him? How often did they phone him or drop by his house to visit? Mephisto might check up on him, but only Erasmus actually cared about Cornelius. Only Erasmus led him through the dark paths of his life.

  For years now, I had not particularly liked Cornelius, but compassion is a strange thing. Once I knew how he felt, I could not pretend otherwise. All I could think was: how would I have felt if someone else in the family could have saved Theo, and they had chose not to?

  Even if the price was high, even if there was a chance that others would die. My own opinion aside, Cornelius was right. In the long run, Erasmus would save more people than might be harmed.

  I stood up and planted my feet squarely on the ice. “YES!”

  Father looked up at me, quite astonished. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I am going to save Erasmus.”

  Father frowned. “No, Miranda, you are not.”

  Every fiber in my body yearned to obey him. I actually started to sit down. Gritting my teeth, I held my ground. “I can save Erasmus! But we have to hurry, and I cannot do it alone!”

  “Miranda, I order you to sit down!”

  In all my long life, the hardest thing I have ever done was to remain standing when Father told me to sit.

  Instead, I stared back at Father. “No!”

  Father stood, his tattered robes flowing, his hair billowing like Moses’. With his stern visage and outstretched, pointing finger, he looked like a Renaissance painter’s idea of God himself.

  “You will obey me!” he roared.

  Father was right! If I tried this, people would die. Was Erasmus worth the lives of so many humans? No! Maybe, my plan to have Theo and Titus help me would turn out well in the long run, but if I did this, men, women and even children would die in the interim.

  What if those people ended up here? What if even one of them might have been redeemed in years to come but ended up here instead because my action cut off his life?

  On the other hand, was I to abandon my brother to be tormented in Hell, perhaps eternally, because of what might happen?

  No, that was not right, either.

  Rejoice and fear not, for it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom.

  My memory of my mother’s voice resounded in my ears. My mother. My eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of joy. What had she said? As the heirs of Solomon, we were the guardians of mankind. The earth had been given into our hands.

  I turned to Mephisto to ask for his support, then paused. Why? Would I abandon Erasmus if he said no? The decision was mine. I could slay Erasmus or save him. I had to decide.

  I had let Erasmus down so many times during our long life, inspired by Uncle Antonio–induced hate. I would not fail him again.

  “No, Father,” I struggled to get the words out of my mouth. “I will not obey you.”

  Father rubbed his temples and leaned upon his staff. “Miranda, I have waited all your life for the day you would disobey me, and I cannot deny that I am delighted to see you assert your independence. But this is neither the place
nor the time.”

  He had been waiting for me to disobey him? Waiting? Why had he not told me … oh.

  I wanted to laugh or cry. Instead, I crossed my arms and raised my chin. “Nonetheless, I am going to save Erasmus!”

  “I am with Miranda, Father!” Cornelius rose to his feet.

  “And I!” Theo leapt up as well, unlimbering his staff.

  “And I,” echoed Gregor.

  “And me, oh pick me!” cried Mephisto, raising his hand. “Pick me!”

  Theo stepped forward, his staff humming. “I’m coming with you!”

  I hugged him but shook my head. “Thank you, Theo! But you had better not. If we should not return, the rest of the family will need you and your staff to have any chance of getting home alive.”

  His internal struggle showed in his eyes. The thought of me running off into danger without him seemed unthinkable. Yet, he could see the wisdom of my position. Finally, he slung his staff back in its holster and said fiercely, “They also serve who only stand and wait.”

  “Only Brother Theo could make waiting sound daring,” Logistilla laughed. She sat up and put her arms about her knees. “So, let me guess the plan. Miranda and the boys run along, while I stay here with Father and Theo and pretend to hold horses?”

  “You know”—Mephisto turned on her suddenly—“I’m fed up with that complaint! I’ve heard it one too many times. Logistilla, the reason you were holding the horses was because no one but you could have done the job! Pyroeis and Xanthos would not have stood still for anyone else. They liked you!”

  “Finally!” Logistilla threw up her arms in a gesture of victory. “At last, somebody has noticed. At long last, someone has given me my due!”

  Titus rolled his eyes. “Woman, do you mean all your complaining all these years has just been an attempt to have us acknowledge how important your part was?”

  “Yes!” Logistilla exulted.

  Mephisto stuck out his tongue. “If Erasmus were here, he’d tell you,” Mephisto lowered his voice to sound more like Erasmus, “‘Logistilla, you are truly pathetic!’”