Storm Watch
New Year, Amber time
After dealing with issues in Rebma (with an added smattering of regicide), Wolf and I joined the happy throng going back through to Amber. It had been a successful mission - we'd freed both Dworkin and Erik, and hopefully we'd delivered a knock-out blow which would take Rebma out of the war - but I was cold, wet, tired and felt like I was running on fumes. The trouble was, I knew damned well that there was something else I had to do before I let myself pass out gracefully for the night.
"Wolf, are you up for one last project?"
"Raising a volcano wasn't enough for you today, Mihai?" he answered, with a wry smile.
"If only I had the option of stopping now."
"What do you have in mind?"
"There's a storm coming in. We need to stop it before it hits."
"A storm powered by the Jewel," my son pointed out, "as I understand it, that trumps most Powers."
"Usually," I answered, "but it may be that we can use a ritual to deflect at least some of the efforts."
"You're in no fit state," Wolf said, looking directly at me.
"I'll sleep when I'm dead," I answered with a shrug, "are you game?"
"If it stops you...sleeping," Wolf replied
"I'll give Matthew a call - check how Dworkin is doing and see if he's up for meeting us in about half an hour. I also think a change and wash up is in order, if you'happy to tag along with me."
"I wouldn't object to a change of clothes if you can find something," he answered, and we headed up to the Northwest Wing.
I would have to ask Marcus to get him a place of his own in Amber if we survived the next few days, as by now he was well and truly on the family radar. I let us into my quarters through the warding, and then told him where the bathroom was. Then I gave Matthew a call: hopefully he was game for what I had planned. That organised, I set about digging through closet to see if I had anything which would fit Wolf. I have height on him - he has bulk on me - but I'd managed to find a pair of loose cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt which should fit him by the time he returned. I grabbed the clothes I'd sorted out for myself, and then headed for the bathroom. After all, physical cleanliness is as important as mental strength when working ritual magic.
"I wondered what you'd done with the Pollaiuolo," he commented, as I walked back into the living room ten minutes later . He was standing with his back to the room, hands clasped behind him, looking up at the painting I'd hung over the fireplace, "I always liked it."
Then he turned towards me and gave a wry smile, as he saw my chosen attire.
"Subtle, Mihai."
"It seemed appropriate," I answered, with a chuckle, well aware that I'd selected a pair of black cotton trousers, a long sleeved black silk shirt, and a pair of worn but comfortable black brogues. I clipped my athame to my belt, slipped on both my adept ring and the sapphire ring I'd been given by Oberon, and put my Trump deck in my pocket.
"Do you have what you need?"
"Always," he answered, and I noted his own ring on his finger and the athame tucked in the small of his back.
"Then I guess we're ready."
I locked up behind us and headed downstairs to where we'd agreed to meet Matthew. He'd also taken advantage of a clean-up, and was now in a new pair of khaki shorts and an hunter green polo shirt.
"Ready?" I said to him as we joined him.
"I think so," he replied.
"Good. I'll make a call."
I reached into the pocket of my trousers and dug out my Trump deck, then shuffled the one I wanted to the top. Wolf watched, curious, until he realised who I was proposing calling.
"Are you insane?"
"He's the best other ritual mage in the vicinity."
"Who last I heard wants to kill you on sight."
"We've agreed to a truce within Amber," I answered.
"And you expect him to keep that?"
"Unsere Ehre heisst Treue...isn't that the motto?"
Wolf looked at me in disbelief, knowing damn well what the motto was, then turned to Matthew, who'd reacted to the German phrase about as well as Wolf had. Gods help me, I was banking a lot on Kasimir Ritter living by it.
"When this is over, Matthew, will you help me commit my lunatic father to a sanatorium?"
"Technically, a lunatic would mean he was crazier when the moon was full..." Matthew began, before Wolf gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.
"Never mind," he answered, then turned back to me, "Go ahead Mihai. You've obviously thought about this for a full twenty seconds."
"Believe me, it was longer than that," I answered, more seriously than his expression might have deserved, "you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't approach him for his help without thinking long and hard about it."
"On your head," he said, more soberly.
"I'm the one who isn't that closely related to him," I answered, "if he's going to screw over any of us, it's likely to be me. Blood is all with him, remember."
And I started concentrating on the card.
"Herr Cushing," Ritter said as he answered.
"Herr Ritter."
"Ready?"
"Let me pass a couple of other people through."
He nodded and offered his hand, and I helped first Wolf and then Matthew through to him, before stepping through myself. We arrived in a well-appointed lounge, with a roaring fire to one side. The furniture had a wood and leather theme, and there were bookshelves lining the wall opposite the big picture window in the south wall, which looked onto the sea. Our host was dressed simply in dark grey trousers, a claret cotton long-sleeved shirt, and comfortable looking suede slippers. As I arrived, he appraised me thoroughly, and I had no doubt that he hadn't missed the symbolism of my choice of clothing. He chuckled to himself, then looked at my companions.
"Wolfgang," he said, nodding almost civilly to his grandson, "I trust you're well. Although I can't say I approve of the darker hair. And couldn't you have shaved this morning?"
"I didn't do it for your approval," Wolf answered, with a shrug, and as he spoke, I could see him absently rubbing his left wrist with his right hand, and then vice versa. If I'd talked to Ritter, it would have sounded bitter; from Wolf it almost sounded like a running joke.
"Always wilful, like your father," Ritter answered, mildly, then looked quizzically at Matthew, and back at me.
"Dieter, this is your brother Matthew. Matthew...Dieter, son of Brand and Dybele."
Matthew weighed him up for a moment, then offered his hand. Ritter took it with a sharp nod of his head and a click of his heels, before turning back to me. Once his brother's attention was otherwise diverted, Matthew plonked himself down in one of the comfortable looking green leather chairs and started taking in his surroundings.
"I would offer you all refreshments," Ritter said with a shrug which might have even been apologetic, "but that might not be conducive to whatever you have in mind."
He was right, of course, although just then I could have eaten a small horse, and I could almost hear Matthew's stomach rumbling from where I was standing.
"In my tradition...and Dieter's...you usually fast before a major Working," I explained to him, trying to deflect the inevitable request for food, "and for this one, I'm going to need every edge I can get."
He grumbled quietly to himself, but at least he didn't argue for too long.
"The volcano was impressive," Ritter commented, with grudging respect.
"It seems to be my day for messing with the natural world," I answered, with a shrug.
"So what do you require of me?"
"We have a hurricane coming in, courtesy of uncle bloody Random. We need some kind of large-scale protection around Amber City and as many of the islands as we can."
"I'm not sure a ward of that size would be possible using any method you would be willing to use," he commented, "although if you'd like to use one of mine, we might be able to generate enough energy for what you want. I have...volunteers...we could use, and I know you're familiar with my school of magic..."
"I'd say over my dead body," I commented, "but..."
"Tush, Herr Cushing. Necromancy can be so effective," he answered, with a wicked smile, "the perfect choice for raw power and extensive devastation."
I glanced over at Matthew, and saw that he looked somewhat uncomfortable. I didn't think it was the chair. I could almost hear the mental "Eeewww" as Ritter blandly discussed human sacrifice as if it was a favourite piece of music. Wolf stood quietly to one side, standing at parade rest and watching his grandfather with an expression which was perfectly neutral, but I could all but feel him remembering his last meeting with Ritter, when he had come home in a pine box.
"Devastation is what I'm trying to avoid," I answered, evenly.
"So do tell...Ian. What happens now?"
"All four of us are Pattern initiates. I propose channelling that into a more neutral ritual, based on a four quarters principal. I assume you're familiar with non-Thulist forms, Dieter."
"Of course," he answered, slightly tersely, "as long as you aren't proposing calling upon the Christian Archangels. That might not end well."
"They are important in more than just the Christian faith, and are beings worthy of respect for any ritual magician," I answered, "but as I'm planning to do the invoking, and I need your help, I'll take that on advisement, and hopefully they won't smite you out of hand. What I need from the three of you is power and support."
"You have mine," Wolf answered, "but I hope you know what you're doing."
"This is not the time to even consider that I don't," I answered, with a wry grin.
He gave an exaggerated sigh and mouthed the word "lunatic" at Matthew, who gave him a weak smile in response.
"You're confident, that's for certain," Ritter commented, "it sounds as if you've been studying since last you and I crossed blades. I'm curious to see the results."
"We live to learn," I said, with a shrug, "Matthew, are you in? I'll try and set this into a tradition you understand."
Matthew looked a little nervous, but he nodded.
"Blood would still strengthen our endeavours, cousin, and you know it," Ritter said, mildly.
"Perhaps, but not from your...volunteers. Any blood involved is going to be ours: four descendants of Clarissa and Oberon should pack quite a punch. But hopefully it won't come to that."
"What do you need?"
"Do you have a Working space which doesn't reek of black magic?"
"Yes," he answered, a trace of annoyance in his tone, "do you need anything to Work with?"
"Symbols for the quarters."
"Sword, wand, cup and mirror?" Matthew said and I nodded.
"I have those," Ritter confirmed, "Anything else?"
"Chalk, salt...the usual," I answered.
"I'll take you to the chapel...you can familiarise yourselves with it while I get what we need."
Ritter led us out of the lounge, into the hallway and opened the door down into wine cellar under the house. As we headed downstairs, I could feel old magic in the air. It had a darker tinge to what I was used to, but at least it wasn't completely black. He led us to the left, and into a barrel-vaulted room, roughly fifteen feet square, with stone walls and a dark wooden floor which showed signs of frequent scuffing and cleaning, There was a small stone altar to one side, devoid of any paraphernalia, although the inevitable lighting runes were graven in the stone above it.
He then left us, returning a short while later with the various items I had requested. In his absence, I oriented myself, figuring out where the cardinal points were and began planning the symbols I needed to draw in my head, explaining my thinking to my companions and accepting suggestions where offered. Once Ritter was back, he threw up a ward around the room while I completed my deliberations.
"What now?" Matthew asked.
"What element would you say best represents you?"
"Air," he said immediately.
"Take west. Wolf, will you stand at east. I know it isn't ideal, but with Matthew at west..."
He looked at me and nodded, and then I turned to Ritter.
"I'll take north," he answered to my unspoken question, "it seems appropriate for a Samhain child."
I nodded as his decision suited me. The fact that I had come into the world on Beltane's night put me firmly in the element of earth, which aligned me with the south. Still, I hadn't realised before that my old adversary had been born exactly six months apart from myself.
"You and I lead; Matthew and Wolf support...so mote it be?"
"So mote it be," he answered, echoed by the others.
Then I commended what I was going to do to the gods I reverence and started to work.
First, I built the relevant circle, placing the symbols of each quarter in their rightful places. I was very proud of myself not invoking the names of the Archangels aloud as I worked, although in my mind I gave them the respect they were due. Once the framework was set up, we sat and linked hands. Then I began to invoke a Working trance where we would be equal participants. It took a few minutes, but at least no-one was fighting me, although I was well aware that Ritter had only allowed me as far within his mental wards as I had to be to make this work. Then, link established, I commenced the ritual proper.
On my mark, we simultaneously brought up the Pattern as a foundation for what we were going to do, and then I began to invoke the gods and the elements in a way to call them to guard us, and the land we were trying to protect. Next, with Ritter's help, I started extending the energy we were generating outwards, slowly and steadily, reaching for the incoming hurricane and trying to read its pattern. When we found it, what struck me was the sheer power of it, backed as it was by the Jewel, and for the first time I doubted whether this could work. However, as I met Ritter's gaze, he smiled.
"Faith, Ian," he said quietly, "you may not bear Brand's blood, but you are Bleys's son, and that is a reasonable substitute. But trust me when I say that right now, spilling some of it would help."
The trouble was, I knew he was right.
I reached for the athame at my belt and brought it to my left palm, slicing fast and deep. As I did, he mirrored me and then I clasped his bleeding hand in mine.
"Do you need us as well?" Wolf asked, calmly.
"Not yet," I answered, "but be ready in case."
"I'm not sure I like this," Matthew said, quietly. He seemed more than a little nervous at the prospect. I would have liked to give him a categorical no, as he'd shown squeamishness about such things on previous occasions, but I knew damned well that I couldn't guarantee it.
"Hopefully it won't be necessary," I answered, and then turned my concentration back to Ritter.
"This is where we trust each other," Ritter said, quietly, and I felt him reach out to me to firm up the link between us.
The joining of his blood and mine gave us a boost, perhaps helped by the fact that I still had white gold in my system: I felt the power redouble and my confidence slowly returned. One day, I'd actually figure out what it was about "redhead" blood which was so conducive to working magic, but just then, I was merely thankful that it was the case. Then we began drawing on the Pattern to further fuel our actions, our mutual enmity towards Random and what he was trying to do to Amber giving us strength. We reached out towards the storm and threw everything we had into trying to push it back. It was almost too much, and in the end we did need for Wolf and Matthew to join the blood link, but Wolf was surprisingly gentle with the lad when it became necessary to bring him in.
Finally, after only the gods know how long, we felt the hurricane break, leaving in its wake little more than heavy rain and stronger than usual winds. As the remaining effects finally passed overhead and off over the sea, we all but collapsed, breathing a collective sigh of relief. We were exhausted, and for my part I'd used up all the fumes. In fact, truth be told, I was still awake pretty much through strength of will and nothing else.
"Nicely done, Ian," Ritter said finally, as we looked at each other with a newfound respect, "for something I suspect you made up on the spur of the moment. Hopefully we've given that Untermensch Random a migraine to remember."
"It wasn't perfect, but it did the trick," I answered, and attempted to get to my feet. I failed dismally, but with a smooth movement my son succeeded, and then offered me his hand. I gratefully took it and he pulled me upright. In the meantime, Matthew and Ritter also achieved the vertical, and we stood in silence for a few moments, centring and regulating our breathing.
"I need to close this down," I said, finally.
"No..." Wolf said, surprisingly firmly, and I looked at him in surprise, "neither you nor Dieter are in a fit state. Matthew, will you give me a hand?"
"Of course," the younger man answered, and quickly and efficiently, they closed down the ritual and made sure everything was metaphysically clean. They made a very good team, as they had back in Amber Palace when they'd sealed the room before the volcano ritual. I couldn't help being amused that they were great uncle and great nephew, though, as well as first cousins once removed.
"Shall we?" Ritter offered, once everything was in order, and indicated the door. Slowly and carefully, I followed him out., the others a little more energetic behind me. He took us back upstairs, although the effort nearly did for me once and for all, and soon we were back in the lounge.
"I would offer you rest and refreshments," he said, calmly, looking at each of us in turn, "but I rather suspect cousin Ian would prefer it if you went elsewhere for that. I imagine that his natural mistrust of me will discount my observance of the rules of hospitality."
"The offer is appreciated," I answered, "but we really should probably be going. And I'd rather not impose on you any longer."
"What I would have expected," he said, with a shrug.
"Thank you, Dieter," I said, offering him my still bloody hand, and he took it in his.
"It was interesting working with you, Ian. I'd say we should do it again, but..."
"But I suspect it would be unwise, except in case of a similarly dire emergency," I answered.
He looked at me and sighed.
"You're probably right. Our natural inclinations are far too far apart. Go in peace, cousin...brother...grandson."
Matthew shook his hand while I drew a Trump of Amber out of my deck. Wolf just watched in silence. However, as I activated the card and took us home, I saw Ritter look at him with a slightly wistful expression on his face.
Getting us back to the castle was pretty much the final straw for me, and as we arrived, I sagged to my knees. Wolf grabbed me before I hit the ground, and hauled me upright.
"Thanks, Wolf," I said, then turned to my cousin, "and my thanks to you, Matthew. We've done good work today."
"And it was all very informative," he answered, "I need to head back to the Observatory and make notes."
"And have a slurpee and a large meal, no doubt."
His expression indicated 'guilty as charged', then he smiled as he realised I was teasing him, and moments later he was gone, leaving me with Wolf.
"You're bloody lucky that Ritter was playing nice with you, Mihai," he said to me, "what the fuck were you thinking?"
"Please, Wolf...not now," I said, quietly, "you can yell at me tomorrow, but right now if I don't find a warm bed in the next thirty seconds, I'll be flat on the floor."
I reached into my pocket, restored the Amber Trump to the deck and shuffled out Carmichael's card, then handed it to my son.
"Can you do the honours?"
He nodded, and began concentrating on the card. A short while later the link opened, and we went on through to Tenterden. The act of racking up the time relative to Amber was the last thing I remembered before collapsing in an undignified heap on the floor.