Opening Salvo - Amanda, Saturday morning
Apr. 29th, 2006 12:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsOn the train to Lancashire, Amanda has a breakthrough.
Train travel had benefits to driving, that was for sure. The trip was about three and a half hours from Euston Station to Preston in Lancashire and Amanda had put the time and the compartment to good use, going through the files Doug had dumped onto her PDA. She could have done this in a car, but not without getting carsick. Besides, this way she could stretch out along the seats, PDA in hand, a battered notebook on her lap and socked feet (she'd had to take the boots off after the conductor had passed by and complained about them being on the seat) tapping out an absent rhythm of concentration. Which just happened to be in time with the Pixies, who was blasting through her headphones at that moment.
Wanda was somewhat uncomfortably curled in the set of seats opposite, asleep and not easily so - Amanda couldn't tell what exactly, but something had happened to the older woman during Amanda's time away from the school. Something that had taken a hell of a lot out of her. Something not natural. Doug and Marie-Ange had wandered down to the snack bar one carriage down, to discuss prom plans, whatever that actually entailed. It was essentially just Amanda, the Pixies, and a hell of a lot of spell files.
'...bynd us not to thys plane byt make us undetectabyle to all who may seek us out...' Amanda sighed and scribbled down "invisibility charm" in her notebook, adding it to the ones she'd already identified. Binding spells, invisibility spells, protection spells, glamours, ... none of them worked in conjunction with the other except in very specialised cases and all of them at one time was impossible. Except that was what seemed to be the intention - a large-scale disappearance from all magical and mundane means of detection. It made sense, she supposed, except for the fact it couldn't be done.
'Anything's possible if you have enough raw power to shove it through...
The memory-voice was familiar and she opened another file on her PDA, this one marked 'Charlie'. Her throat still got a bit tight when she read his notes, the dry humour and the passion for magic so evident even in the obscure language. Miss you, mate. There, an old email with his thoughts on Amanda's magic. '...even contradicting spells can be combined with enough raw power, which is what you do. Your mutation combines several different sources of mystic energy into one. Of course, it means your brain starts trying to crawl out your ears because it wasn't meant to channel that kind of power...'
Combining several different sources of mystic energy. That was the key. Rom was one - a lot of what she did was sheer front and personality, but she did have power of her own. Not enough for the spells listed... Amanda's eye fell on the pile of tourist pamphlets Doug had collected at Euston Station. Lancashire, Blackpool, Bronte Country... A pointy hat poked out from under the Blackpool one and she leaned forward to snag it. Pendle Witch Country, she read. Tours of Pendle Hill and its surrounds, site of some of England's most infamous witch trials. The hill was still considered a sacred pagan site... Amanda didn't believe in coincidence; it had to be it.
Two. Rom and Pendle Hill.
A nasty feeling was growing in her gut, the shape of just what sort of ritual would be required to achieve all this. Blood is power, her mind reminded her, bringing up memories of Rack and his binding spell, Manuel in Berlin, Selene and Jubilee. Blood ritual then, on a site of power, but when? Timing would be crucial, they'd have to pick the most auspicious moment... wait, what day was it? Amanda checked her PDA - April 29. Nothing special about that at all, just another day, but there was something coming up, something big.
Fairies are Marxists. One of Charlie's jokes.
May Day. May 1st. Moving Day. Even if the legends of Faerie were complete and utter bollocks, it was still a significant date. A day of power, the walls between dimensions growing thin, influence bleeding through... If there was ever a day for performing a reality-warping spell, that would be one. The only better date would be All Hallows Eve, and she doubted they'd wait five months.
Rom. Pendle Hill. May Day. Who and where and when. There was no question.
Setting aside the PDA and swinging her legs off the seat in a shower of pamphlets and notes, Amanda reached for her jacket, stuffed in the luggage rack and pulled her phone out of the pocket. It rang only once before it was picked up, Pete's voice gravelly and tight with tension.
"Pete? 'S me." Amanda's heart was pounding like a trip hammer. "I've got her."
Train travel had benefits to driving, that was for sure. The trip was about three and a half hours from Euston Station to Preston in Lancashire and Amanda had put the time and the compartment to good use, going through the files Doug had dumped onto her PDA. She could have done this in a car, but not without getting carsick. Besides, this way she could stretch out along the seats, PDA in hand, a battered notebook on her lap and socked feet (she'd had to take the boots off after the conductor had passed by and complained about them being on the seat) tapping out an absent rhythm of concentration. Which just happened to be in time with the Pixies, who was blasting through her headphones at that moment.
Wanda was somewhat uncomfortably curled in the set of seats opposite, asleep and not easily so - Amanda couldn't tell what exactly, but something had happened to the older woman during Amanda's time away from the school. Something that had taken a hell of a lot out of her. Something not natural. Doug and Marie-Ange had wandered down to the snack bar one carriage down, to discuss prom plans, whatever that actually entailed. It was essentially just Amanda, the Pixies, and a hell of a lot of spell files.
'...bynd us not to thys plane byt make us undetectabyle to all who may seek us out...' Amanda sighed and scribbled down "invisibility charm" in her notebook, adding it to the ones she'd already identified. Binding spells, invisibility spells, protection spells, glamours, ... none of them worked in conjunction with the other except in very specialised cases and all of them at one time was impossible. Except that was what seemed to be the intention - a large-scale disappearance from all magical and mundane means of detection. It made sense, she supposed, except for the fact it couldn't be done.
'Anything's possible if you have enough raw power to shove it through...
The memory-voice was familiar and she opened another file on her PDA, this one marked 'Charlie'. Her throat still got a bit tight when she read his notes, the dry humour and the passion for magic so evident even in the obscure language. Miss you, mate. There, an old email with his thoughts on Amanda's magic. '...even contradicting spells can be combined with enough raw power, which is what you do. Your mutation combines several different sources of mystic energy into one. Of course, it means your brain starts trying to crawl out your ears because it wasn't meant to channel that kind of power...'
Combining several different sources of mystic energy. That was the key. Rom was one - a lot of what she did was sheer front and personality, but she did have power of her own. Not enough for the spells listed... Amanda's eye fell on the pile of tourist pamphlets Doug had collected at Euston Station. Lancashire, Blackpool, Bronte Country... A pointy hat poked out from under the Blackpool one and she leaned forward to snag it. Pendle Witch Country, she read. Tours of Pendle Hill and its surrounds, site of some of England's most infamous witch trials. The hill was still considered a sacred pagan site... Amanda didn't believe in coincidence; it had to be it.
Two. Rom and Pendle Hill.
A nasty feeling was growing in her gut, the shape of just what sort of ritual would be required to achieve all this. Blood is power, her mind reminded her, bringing up memories of Rack and his binding spell, Manuel in Berlin, Selene and Jubilee. Blood ritual then, on a site of power, but when? Timing would be crucial, they'd have to pick the most auspicious moment... wait, what day was it? Amanda checked her PDA - April 29. Nothing special about that at all, just another day, but there was something coming up, something big.
Fairies are Marxists. One of Charlie's jokes.
May Day. May 1st. Moving Day. Even if the legends of Faerie were complete and utter bollocks, it was still a significant date. A day of power, the walls between dimensions growing thin, influence bleeding through... If there was ever a day for performing a reality-warping spell, that would be one. The only better date would be All Hallows Eve, and she doubted they'd wait five months.
Rom. Pendle Hill. May Day. Who and where and when. There was no question.
Setting aside the PDA and swinging her legs off the seat in a shower of pamphlets and notes, Amanda reached for her jacket, stuffed in the luggage rack and pulled her phone out of the pocket. It rang only once before it was picked up, Pete's voice gravelly and tight with tension.
"Pete? 'S me." Amanda's heart was pounding like a trip hammer. "I've got her."
