Prospero Regained

by L. Jagi Lamplighter

  He had called me his love, right here, in front of my family. My heart soared with joy, leaping as if it could fly through a skylight, up into the stormy heavens.

  Father, smiling, addressed my brothers. “What do you say, sons? Shall we take up the task before us and free your sister to wander the world with this elf?”

  “I suppose it should be my duty,” Erasmus drawled, “considering all this”—he gestured up and outward, as if to indicate the storm—“happened on my behalf.”

  “But, you can’t!” I cried, watching as all my hard work, over which I had slaved for so many years, was yanked from me. “Prospero, Inc., is mine…”

  Flashes of green merriment darted through Astreus’s eyes as my voice trailed off. Taking my hand, he kissed it without removing his gaze from mine.

  “Oh, so it is to be a Boys Club, is it?” Logistilla turned her back with a huff. “And I thought we had made such progress with the horses!”

  “Do you think you could do better?” Erasmus asked Logistilla.

  “Indeed I could!” Logistilla shot back. “I’ve discovered of late I have rather a head for business. Since Cornelius stopped helping me, I’ve had to run all aspects of my enterprise myself, and I’ve done rather well, thank you!”

  “Then, it has been decided,” Father announced. “Logistilla is to be the new C.E.O. of Prospero, Inc. Among her first tasks will be to provide bodies for Aerie Ones who want them.”

  “But … I…” Logistilla sputtered.

  “You don’t want to be C.E.O. of Prospero, Inc.?” Father asked.

  She rose to her full height. “Certainly, I do!” “So long as we can find room at the Mansion for all my pets.”

  “Your pets will be going back to their former shapes,” growled Titus.

  “Oh, pooh!” Logistilla replied, pouting. More cheerfully, she added, “Surely, there won’t be enough identities yet for all the Aerie Ones who’ll want one. Maybe, I’ll be able to interest a few airy spirits in an internship as a dingo or a vicuna.”

  In the brief span of time it took my family to reach this conclusion, my life was utterly transformed. What had been impossible, suddenly became possible indeed.

  I felt so happy that tears welled up.

  As to my sister, if my memory of her management of her son’s dukedom sufficed, Logistilla was being modest. She had always had a talent for business and management. What she needed was a chance to do something worthwhile—something that would draw her out of herself and away from the little games she had been playing with her pets and the Staff of Transmogrification. She would make a capable leader for the family company. With some chagrin, I realized I would be doing her a favor.

  I realized something else, too. Logistilla, whose great complaint in life was that she went unappreciated by her family, deserved to know that I appreciated her ability.

  Aloud, I said, “You will make a wonderful C.E.O., Logistilla. You’re a natural. You will probably do better than I did.”

  Logistilla was so shocked that she did not know how to respond. She tried to swallow but could not. Eventually, she sputtered, “Why t-thank you, big sister Miranda. That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”

  “Then, it shall be so! Logistilla will run Prospero, Inc., and Erasmus will be her lieutenant,” Father announced. Logistilla crowed with delight and Erasmus sighed.

  “I suppose this is only what I deserve, but … oh, Father, the humiliation!” Erasmus hung his head in mock shame. Father chuckled.

  Rising, Father came toward me and took my hands, giving me a loving, fatherly smile that reminded me of so many wonderful talks we had shared, including our chats upon the bluffs of Prospero Island, where he first told me about my mother and how great love had altered the course of his life.

  “Go, Miranda, with my blessing.” Father said. “The way will be difficult, for not all the faery folk will welcome your news, and all the powers of Hell shall rise to stop you. But if you are brave, and true to each other, you will prevail.”

  He embraced me, kissing my forehead gently. A warm tingle spread through my body. “You are my dearest child. So long have you been beside me, that I hardly know what I shall do without you … and yet,” he stroked my hair and then, drawing me in close, embraced me—“and yet, I would not have it any other way—for now I know that you are finally and truly free!”

  So, it was decided.

  Part of me was petrified, trembling with terror like a leaf in a hurricane, but it was a small part. Far greater was the utter joy of venturing out to see all the wonders I had longed to visit. And, best of all, we would not just be traveling … we would be flying!

  I hugged my father tighty, pressing my cheek against his chest, my eyes brimming with tears. He squeezed me back for a time. When we finally parted, Father turned and pointed his staff at Astreus, fixing him with his fierce gaze.

  “But you, elf lord,” he declared. “Know this: you shall not keep my daughter under a roof with you or under the sky for so much as a single night until full and holy rites of marriage have been performed, and she is your lawful wife!”

  I blushed and started to object, but my brothers were already reaching for their staffs. Erasmus slipped on his Urim glove, and Theo’s began its rising hum. Even Caliban was hefting his club. They closed in upon Astreus, menacingly, ringing him, except for Mephisto, who stepped beside him, staff in hand, as if to guard him. When Astreus threw Mephisto a grateful look, the latter leaned toward the elf lord, whispering, “Psst, remember? You promised.”

  The Elf Lord threw up his hands, pleading, “No objection do I make to your geas, Dread Prospero, and yet when I did question Mephistopheles about matrimony, so long ago, he assured me that this blessed state takes time to achieve, involving kneeling and three years of affianced bliss.”

  “Nonsense.” Gregor stood, his robes swishing about his legs. “I can marry you immediately. Am I not a priest?”

  Astreus spread his wings, forcing my brothers to retreat or be struck in the face with feathers. He held out his hand to me again. “Then, come, Fair Miranda! Let our love be sanctified by this holy ceremony, that we might be made one before the eyes of the Most High, our hearts intertwined and our purposes forever united! From our loins shall spring a race of terrestrial angels, like unto nothing that yet walks or breathes. They shall be a new race, born of the union of Heaven and earth, from which shall spring saints, poets, and heroes who, by dint of their fierce spirit, shall change the face of the world, even as the Family Prospero has done!”

  My family cheered and thumped the floor with their staffs. Even Father clapped. Mephisto, who was particularly ecstatic, cartwheeled back and forth across the chamber.

  Rising, I placed my hand in Astreus’s.

  * * *

  THE wedding ceremony was short but sweet. Logistilla stood up with me and Mephisto stood up with Astreus, alternating between hat-on and hat-off. Astreus pulled matching rings from his indigo cloak, bands of sapphire with a tiny star burning upon each. Mine fit perfectly. After slipping it on, Astreus taught me how to hide the light, should I want to move about stealthily. Then, he kissed me, and for a time, we danced in dreams amidst bonfires and starlight.

  * * *

  AFTERWARD, Father sent Gregor and Erasmus to fetch bottles from the wine cellar. When they came, I held up the bottles and let Life flow from my forehead into the liquid. A familiar pearly golden-white spread throughout the dark red of the wine. When I pulled the cork and the smell of it escaped the bottle, a chorus of “oohs” sounded throughout the chamber. I poured out a glass for each of us.

  “That scent!” Cornelius cried, half-rising. “So beautiful.”

  “Dear God!” cried Theo. “Miranda, you really did it! You made Water of Life! Or Wine of Life, in this case.”

  “We are saved!” breathed Erasmus. “Mankind is saved! And you can make an infinite supply. We could make all mankind immortal!”

  “One thing at a time, Son,” Father chided. �
��One thing at a time. Let us free the elves first. Heaven may have other plans for mankind than eternal life trapped on earth.”

  “Could you see but a glimpse of Heaven,” laughed Astreus, “you would not yearn for immortal life on earth, and yet”—he swirled the iridescent liquid in his glass—“with this, mankind’s days upon the earth could be healthy and whole. No need for him to sweat with fever or suffer crippling wounds. Those ills are Hell’s invention. We elves do not suffer them. They are not part of Heaven’s greater plan. Had illness been the work of the Most High, would not your White Christ have refused to heal it?”

  “Interesting…” Gregor frowned. “Though I’m not sure that is theologically sound.”

  “Perhaps.” Erasmus gazed into his wine. “But, ah, the possibilities!”

  And, of course, Erasmus was right.

  We were immortal again. We Prosperos would be around to see that the spirits did not break their oaths and escape their bonds. Mankind would not lose their modern marvels and be plunged back into the Dark Ages—a time of torment and misery. Hell would not win after all.

  And, in time, maybe even the spirits themselves could be set free—with souls!

  Theophrastus propped his feet upon the end table and raised his glass, proposing a toast to our future happiness, which was quickly echoed by the others. My heart expanded with joy every time I saw him looking so young and strong. He met my eyes and smiled in return.

  “Was it really only a month ago when you came looking for Father, Miranda?” Theo asked. “It seems like a lifetime!”

  “God works in mysterious ways.” Gregor took a sip from his glass. “In a matter of days, we have gone from elation to desperation and back to elation. Who would have thought, when Miranda lost her Handmaidenship, the night you all rescued me, that six days later our lives would be so much grander than they had previously been?”

  “Who knows what the future may bring?” Father’s fierce blue eyes glanced from Astreus to Erasmus. “Free elves no longer bound to Hell? Mankind no longer prey to disease and famine? Or things more wondrous still?”

  “I sense an apropos moment for our favorite Miranda quote,” offered Erasmus, raising his glass.

  “Say it! Oh! Oh! Say it!” Mephisto jumped up and down. The others soon joined in the chant.

  Raising my own glass, I recited the immortal words the Bard had written for my namesake: “‘O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in ’t.’”

  EPILOGUE

  I rose the next morning from my marriage bed, feeling both refreshed and giddy with wonder, and—after kissing my elvish husband with all the sweetness I could muster—went to gather my things. Coming down the hallway, I ran into Erasmus, who carried his travel bags upon his staff, which rested over his shoulder, so that he looked like a medieval vagabond taking off for a journey with suitcases hanging from his bindle stick.

  “Well, I’m off to Poland. Ulysses’s bringing me as far as Warsaw. After all,” Erasmus said with a smirk and patted his staff, “what does ‘sixty-three years’ matter to me?”

  “And you think you can find Maria in a reincarnated body with only the instructions, ‘She’s in Poland’?”

  “Father let me talk to the Club O’ Wisdom. He gave me an address.”

  “Oh, Erasmus, that’s wonderful!” I cried. “I wish you all the luck in the world winning her back!”

  I took his free hand and pressed it fondly, thinking how strange it was to feel so charitably toward Erasmus. That alone attested to the tremendous difference between the present me and myself of a month ago!

  Of all of us, Erasmus had suffered the most during this last week. Like me, he had seen all his comfortable illusions ripped away, but unlike me, he had not found something of worth waiting on the far side. That he had undergone so much and still kept his spirits up, resisting the despair that accompanied his staff, showed tremendous strength of character. I hoped the demon in his staff—the Great Duke Vepar if I recalled Baelor correctly—had taken note and was duly impressed. With such determination, Erasmus could not fail to win back the woman he so loved, even if he had to learn Polish first.

  “I never got to thank you properly, Miranda. You—of all people!” Erasmus shook his head wryly. “You saved my life and at such a terrible cost.” He laid his free hand upon his staff and shuddered. “I would not have done the same for you.”

  “I don’t know.” I laughed. “I remember a certain brother who jumped into the Swamp of Uncleanness without a second thought. Besides,” I added, “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Cornelius.”

  “Cornelius? I didn’t know you even liked Cornelius.”

  I brushed aside escaped strands of my raven black hair, which still seemed jarring and unfamiliar to me. “It’s a long story.” I looked him in the face a moment and suddenly thought of something. “Erasmus! Wait here, just a moment!”

  I ran off and came back with an old tin canteen wrapped in a MacLaren plaid. I thrust it at him.

  “What is this?” He opened it and sniffed the wondrous aroma that escaped from the bottle. His breath caught in his throat, and his face went slack. He stared at the canteen for a time, as if he was afraid to trust his senses. Finally, he looked up at me, his face agog with joy. “Water of Life! A whole canteen!”

  “I thought you might need some. It’s not a Urim container, so the holy essence will eventually leak out, but—”

  “It’s all right.” He cut me off, his dark eyes dancing with an inner light. “I know how to make it last long enough to serve my purposes. I’ll ward the canteen with that black cloth we prepared to keep Paimon quiet during our trip.”

  He put down his staff and bags and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. I squeezed him back, laying my head against his shoulder. I searched my memory, but could not recall that he had ever willingly embraced me before, except in Limbo, when he thanked me for saving him.

  Stepping back, he smiled at me sideways though his dark hair, which, as always, hung in his face. He picked up his staff again, leaving the bags on the floor. “I’m not entirely certain this Elf Boy is good enough for you, though. If any part of him gives you trouble, you tell me.” He hefted his staff. “I’ll see it won’t bother you in the future!”

  I started to smile then blushed furiously as possible implications of his threat occurred to me.

  “You need not fear having Osae’s bastard for a nephew,” I replied in a rush. “My Lady assures me I have escaped that doom.”

  “Wonderful news!” Erasmus exclaimed. “I shall look forward to the pitter-patter of little elvish feet, Madam Stormwind.”

  His use of my new title caught me by surprise and caused me to blush all the more. For he was right. I was now Miranda Stormwind. I put my hands over my mouth to suppress a girlish giggle.

  Erasmus shook his head, chuckling. “Nothing makes a bride giddier than to remind her of the gravity of her new position.” Lowering his staff through the handles, he picked up his bags again. “A Sibyl. After all these years. And now you can talk to Eurynome directly, can’t you?”

  I smiled. “Yes. Which is wonderful … but not as important as I once thought it was.”

  “How so?”

  “I have learned how to make my own decisions.”

  “How glorious, Sister,” Erasmus bowed, smiling though his hair.

  As he turned to go, I watched him fondly. I realized that I now had trouble recalling why I had so disliked him.

  “Erasmus!” I called as he walked away. He paused and arched an eyebrow. I hesitated and then blurted out, “My hair, can you … would you turn it back to silver?”

  Erasmus threw his head back and laughed. “Certainly, Sister,” he replied when he could speak again. “Always happy to wither a family member.”

  * * *

  I WENT down to the Eridanus and, after showering the life and love that poured from my forehead upon a still pool, washed my new
ly withered hair in Water of Life until it shone like spun silver. It was a pleasure to see my reflection match my mental image of myself, and an even greater joy to see the spiral ivory mark upon my brow. I hoped Astreus would like my pale locks.

  The little feylings gathered around the Water, sipping it and dancing, until the whole glade sparkled with tiny lights. Several Aerie Ones who were still on the island swooped down to drink as well, caressing me with gentle gusts to show their gratitude.

  When I came back to the house, I found my family gathered in the music room. An Aerie One—who had accepted my offer of employment—stood by, muting the tremendous roar of the waterfall. Beyond the sheet of falling water, I could see Astreus soaring above the island, laughing as he glided and dove. Closer at hand, Logistilla and Titus talked with their children. Teleron had put his book aside, and Typhon leaned his head happily against Logistilla, who was stroking his hair. Gregor and Ulysses sat at the small table in the center of the room, sipping wine and playing cards with Father’s antique tarocco deck.

  Theo stood beside the piano with a cavalier-hat-wearing Mephisto, who was trying to master modern language. Near them, Schrödinger, in her new, Logistilla-designed, brindle cat body, batted playfully at Tybalt, Prince of Cats. Ulysses had fetched my familiar from Prospero’s Mansion, along with the gem that held Mab’s “cousin” in it, which I had found on my breakfast tray.

  On the far side of the room, Father, Cornelius, and Caliban listened as the Staff of Wisdom conversed with the Staff of Persuasion. Cornelius’s shoulders still slumped dejectedly, but Caliban’s face had a calmer, more steady quality: more like a professor, less like a servant.

  “Where’s Mab?” I asked.

  * * *

  I FOUND him in Father’s workroom amidst swirling sawdust. He had my flute in a vise and was slicing it into slim rings with the electric saw. My stomach clenched, and I had to look away.

  “Won’t be enough for us all,” he commented over the whirr of the saw, “but, heck, at least some of us can enjoy ’em. Maybe we can take turns. Thought I’d keep the mouthpiece myself. Seems fitting, somehow. Kind of like the idea of dancing to my own tune for a change.”