Party Like Its 1969
Somewhere underground––probably––not a hundred percent sure.
Cassie and Cooper approached the light at the end of the tunnel cautiously, pressing their backs against the wall to peer into the cavern beyond. Ice cold water ran down their necks, making them shudder as they studied the bizarre sight that met their eyes.
The underground chamber was about the length of a football pitch but square, at least it appeared to be underground—except for the natural sunlight flooding in from nowhere they could see. A mirror ball ten times bigger than normal hung down from ornate chains anchored to a dozen stalactites, casting a speckled pattern over the large dance floor in the centre of the cavern.
More than a hundred teenagers were doing the twist as the song of the same name blared out of a Dansette record player far louder than the machine was capable of. There was something not quite right about the dancers, but from the distance neither of them could tell what it was.
To one side, a big ceramic cooking pot full of never-ending stew bubbled on top of a wood fire blazing in a pit, the logs crackled furiously but never got any smaller.
Beside it, a five-foot tall, red plastic fountain spewed ale into multicoloured, plastic tumblers in a circle around the base without any of them overflowing.
“Dudes, over here, join the party, it’s a gas!” said a jovial sounding voice as the music dipped to make conversation possible, without anyone touching the record player. It took a second for them to spot where it had come from, the speaker was a big man who clearly loved his food and drink. He had light brown hair in a mop-top Beatles haircut on top of a florid, chubby face. He was beaming with an infectious smile as he waved them over.
Since there was no point in trying to hide any more, Cooper stepped out into the open, striding confidently towards him as Cassie followed sheepishly behind. When they got closer, they could see that he was sitting on a yellow beanbag chair with a smaller one of the same colour to his right and a lava lamp on a glass-topped table to his left. He was wearing a paisley shirt and red velvet, flared trousers. Behind him was a tunnel exactly opposite to the one they’d walked through but when they looked back the original one was gone, leaving only a blank wall.
“Hi,” Cooper said before Cassie caught his attention, mouthing something he didn’t understand.
“What?” he mouthed back, holding his arms out and shrugging in frustration as he looked sideways at her.
“She’s trying to tell you that I’m The Dagda, baby.”
“God of banquets and magick,” she said, embarrassed at being caught out.
“Join the fun, eat, drink, and party on down, “ The Dagda said with a nod of acknowledgement to her.
“No offence, but you don’t sound like a god.”
“I’m not like the others, those dudes and are just squares,” he said, drawing the shape in the air with both index fingers, “I’ve been watching the idiot box and, dude, it’s groovy.”
“By the sounds of it you stopped far too early.”
“Not so, Daddy-O, I got to the party decade, and that was far enough for me.”
“We’ll mingle and enjoy ourselves,” he said, fetching two tumblers of ale from the fountain where they were replaced instantly by two more. He held them up for The Dagda to see, although his plan was actually to look for an escape route that didn’t involve trying to punch out a god.
“Cool, we’ll rap later, dude, like, time’s not even a thing here.”
“If time’s not a thing, how can there be a later?” Cooper said, handing Cassie one of the drinks as they walked away.
“It’s more a case time dilation. ‘Later’ here could be a thousand years but back in the meeting no discernible time will have passed.”
“No discernible time passed in any meeting I ever attended,” Cooper said.
Behind them The Dagda turned his attention back to the dancers, snapping his fingers and tapping his toes to the rhythm as The Twist ended and Twist and Shout started to play.
When they cut across the dance floor, it became obvious that the dancers were characters plucked right out of TV shows and movies made, or set in the 1950s and 60s. Some of them were in black and white and all their performances started over every few seconds, or minutes, depending on how long they’d originally been on screen.
On his way past, he deliberately bumped into a skinny young man who was wearing a herringbone suit and a floral, kipper tie. He was solid and felt perfectly human, but despite being hit hard enough to knock him over, he never budged, looked at them or missed a single dance step.
They stopped in a seating area surrounded by apple trees that grew out of the stone floor and rustled in a wind that wasn’t there, sitting on opposite sides of a white, plastic, U-shaped table on plastic stools of the same colour. He pretended to take a sip of the ale without taking his eyes off of The Dagda, as he couldn’t be sure the drink wasn’t spiked.
Monochrome and colour TV and movie characters sat at the other tables repeating full or fragmented conversations. Some of them, who’d been extras, spoke with no sound coming out. They spent several minutes pointing out younger versions of big stars to each other. He still couldn’t find the light source, but the sunlight illuminated every corner, confirming that the only way out was behind The Dagda.
After a short pause, he looked puzzled, tried to speak, studied his staff, which lay dormant by his side, and fell silent.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
“I can’t think of a single spell, and I think I need to change the batteries in my staff.”
“None of it will work here, if he doesn’t want it to.”
“Why not?”
“He’s the god of magick and you’re just a warlock, he decides who does or doesn’t wield power in his domain.”
“So he’s my boss? Excellent, is this a good time to mention that I haven’t been paid yet for all the sorcery stuff I’ve being doing lately?”
“It’s no laughing matter, he took away our only hope of escape.”
“You’re right, but, well,” he said, looking grimly serious, “I’m just trying to put a positive spin on things, can you believe that it’s only been eight days, since we first met and you told me you felt partially responsible for me being here? I think you were wrong about that, and now,” he put his hand gently on top of hers, “before I die all I want is for you to say those three, little words I long to hear.”
“What words?” she said, blushing.
He held up his other hand to count them off on his fingers, “All… My… Fault...”
“You’re a dick!” she said, pulling her hand away.
“Boy, I don’t think you were paying attention, at all, those three were not even close.”
She sat silently glaring hatred at him through hurt eyes for a few long seconds before he spoke, “Sorry,” he said, realising he’d gone too far, “you know, even if I could snap my fingers and make all magick disappear tomorrow I’d still have two very dangerous groups of people trying to jail me for life or torture me to death to get money it turns out I never had in the first place. All my resources are gone and for the first time in my life I don’t have any backup plans, so I’m terrified that if I stop making stupid jokes I’m going to start obsessing over the fact that, since I’ll never work for a despot, being fifty percent lucky right now means the best I can hope for is a painless death. But we’re a team and I shouldn’t take any of that out on you.”
“You’re right, we are a team and if anybody deserves to be there when they kill you, it’s definitely me,” she said with a smile.
“See, now you’re getting the hang of it!” He said, grinning widely, “Let’s go and see what the party animal wants, like it wasn’t obvious.”
“I never introduced myself, I’m Callum Cooper,” he said to The Dagda a minute later, as Peppermint Twist played, and he wondered how many more twist songs there were.
“I know who you are, dude, you’re the most powerful of my bairns, slap some skin,” he said, holding his hand out palm up.
Cooper turned it around and shook it firmly, “I’m one of your children?”
“All cantrip casters are my bairns.”
He looked at Cassie, puzzled on hearing that word for a second time in recents days.
“Cantrip is an old Scots word for a trick, but it originally meant magick spell,” she said.
“So how are you going to try to force me to work for Morrigan?”
“Hey, don’t harsh my mellow, dude, I do rewards not punishments, baby. Listen, is your old lady cool?” he whispered the last part conspiratorially, pointing to Cassie who didn’t know which to be more offended by, being called old or his lady.
“She’s not my old lady, in fact she kind of hates my guts right now.”
“Then take the weight off your winkle-pickers and let me lay something far out on you,” he said pointing behind them, where suddenly there was a single, tan, swivel armchair on four black legs extending out from a central post. He sat down, leaving Cassie standing, “Rude,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
He had barely settled when the theme from Bewitched started playing and seven young women paraded out of a corner they’d never been in and lined-up facing him.
They were all achingly gorgeous, their diaphanous gowns leaving little to the imagination, Cassie looked away in embarrassment but, to be fair, Cooper was doing more than enough looking for both of them.
“Are they not all breathtaking?” The Dagda said, temporarily abandoning his 60s lingo, “Seven virgins for the seven ley lines beneath the seven hills of power. Is each one not more beautiful than the last?” which was true, although it very much depended on how they were lined-up.
“Lovely,” he squeaked, suddenly suffering from high blood pressure in inappropriate places.
“They are all yours, to do with as you please, in exchange for swearing undying fealty to Morrigan.”
“Seven virgins you say?” he said, regaining his composure, “See, here’s the thing, since my divorce I’ve been pretty rusty in the bedroom department, given my trust issues, and the last thing I need is for eight of us to be milling around with no idea what we’re doing.”
For a moment something dark and monstrous flickered angrily behind The Dagda’s eyes, then he blinked and they returned to normal, “An old dude once said that every man has his price. What’s yours?”
“Nothing, you can’t bribe me and I’ll die screaming in agony before I ever help that murdering bitch,” he said, jumping to his feet and taking a fighting stance.
“Dude, you’re so overdramatic, and such a buzzkill. But,” he said with a smile that Cooper found very unsettling, “like I said, time’s not a thing here and even if it takes ten thousand years for you to change your mind, less than a second will have passed where you came from.”
“Thousands of years with nothing but stew, ale, twist songs and not a bathroom in sight,” he said to Cassie with a sigh as they turned to walk away, “I’m definitely going to crack.”
Despite time not being a thing there, over fifteen hours had passed since they arrived, according to Cassie’s phone before the battery died, and they realised that neither one of them was tired, hungry or in need of a bathroom break, which explained the lack of toilet facilities but not the abundance of food.
He was sitting opposite Cassie at the same table as before, unsuccessfully attempting to get drunk, having decided that drugging wasn’t The Dagda’s style.
It should have been easy as he wasn’t used to alcohol, having spent most of his life sleeping light, keeping alert and always expecting trouble, relaxation was a luxury he could rarely afford, but despite his best efforts he remained stone cold sober, “Tell me everything you know about The Dagda,” he said.
“He settled in Ireland at the time of Morrigan’s great retreat and ultimate defeat,” she said, grateful for the distraction, “he’s the patriarch of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a tribe of gods, and is very approachable, he also has a soft spot for women,” she paused to take a sip of ale, the way she screwed her face up showing she instantly regretted it.
“Amongst his titles were god of life, war and death,” she continued, “but he passed the last two onto his bride as part of the wedding ceremony. He’s fathered at least half-a-dozen children, and... Here’s the shocker, he moved to Scotland to be near his wife––Morrigan!”
“He actually got her pregnant?” he said emitting a low whistle, “You weren’t kidding when you said he had a soft spot for women.”
“Six times, by my count, one quite recently, and by recently I mean about eleven hundred years ago.”
“Wow, if those drawings you showed me were accurate, that hole in her face where her nose used to be is not a sexy look and it’s not like she can compensate for it with a good personality.”
“So, what are you thinking?” she said.
“Not sure, yet, do you think it’s possible to get past him by force, to get to the tunnel behind?”
“No,” she said with a shake of the head, “you’re a warlock, do you think someone without magick powers could do that to you?”
“Then, since I’ve only spent a few days as a, what did he call it… a cantrip caster? And I’ve been a conman since the age of ten, I think it’s time to go back to doing what I know best,”
“You can’t really mean that,” she snapped disapprovingly, “that was the old you, I’ve spent a lot of time with you and you’re better than that now.”
“I was married to a woman who spent thirteen years trying to change me and left when she finally realised that she couldn’t, so don’t waste your time making the same mistake as she did.”
Cassie muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath as she stormed off to a different table where she sat next to Elvis Presley as he repeatedly chatted up Barbara Stanwyck.
Without a clock in sight he was losing track of time, but however long it had been, the constant daylight and never-ending music was slowly driving him insane and when a song from the record player changed from Let’s Twist Again to declare that, “They’re coming to take me away ho-ho hee-haw ha-haaa,” it was obvious that The Dagda was playing mind games.
Half-an-hour later he was standing in front of the god who was tapping his toes to Twist Fever, “Hi, again,” Cooper said, leaning on his staff, “sorry about the ‘murdering bitch’ comment earlier, I didn’t know she was your wife at the time.”
“Thanks, dude, but you’re not wrong,” he said, sadness flickering across his face.
“If you feel like that, why help her?”
“She always had the power to make people believe in her, which means they’ll believe in magic and so they believe in me. Without her I’m just so many atoms blowing in the wind, as Dylan would have put it.”
“People are seeing witches and fairies flying overhead with monsters roaming the streets, if they don’t believe in magick own their own now they soon will, with or without her.”
“Maybe,” The Dagda said thoughtfully, “but why take the chance?”
Cooper thought about that for a moment, sighed and sat awkwardly on the small beanbag at the god’s side, using his staff to balance himself, “True, all that noble posturing crap isn’t the real me, I can be a warlock and destroy my enemies or risk dying at their hands. Screw them all, I’ll look after number one, like I always do, and let them do the same.”
The Dagda smiled delightedly, “I knew it was only a matter of time until you came around to my way of thinking,” he said.
“Don’t listen to him!” Cassie shouted, running up.
“What the hell?” Cooper said, falling off of the beanbag before leaping to his feet.
“He’s nothing but a dirty conman,” she said, a single tear trickling down one cheek as she stood, eyes fixed on Cooper.
“You stupid bitch, he was falling for it! I was going to take you with me, we could have been on the other side of the world in a couple of days!” He said, as he leapt at her, grabbing her by the wrist.
“Thou didst deceiveth me?” The god boomed, the monstrous shapes flooding back into his eyes as all the people and music stopped dead, as if he’d pressed a pause button.
“You’re better than this,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes “I don’t want to live if I have to be as bad as they are.”
“That’s good because I’m going to kill you!” He said, pulling her towards him as he tripped over the beanbag and staggered sideways.
They were suddenly behind The Dagda who had to spin around to face them, “Leaveth her be!” he said. Thrusting one arm out, an unseen force hit Cooper in the chest, throwing him back several feet, as he dragged Cassie by the arm after him.
He shook his head, knelt up rubbing his chest and wheezing, as he leant on his staff; Cassie lay sprawled, unmoving, beside him.
As The Dagda stood shaking with rage at being betrayed by one of his bairns, especially one he was growing to like, Cooper croaked, “Now!” Cassie sprung to her feet and sprinted towards the corridor a few yards ahead like a gazelle with him following close behind, holding his bruised chest.
The Dagda roared, his wordless fury becoming sonic pulses too high-pitched to hear that hit the wall above them as they ran into the tunnel. They were barely clear before a cave-in cut them off, leaving them in the pitch black.
The ground heaved and shook, throwing them down as rocks started falling. Cooper dived on top of Cassie, covering her body with his as he held he staff out sideways, hoping his magick was back, and yelled, “Copan!” runes flared as a dome-shaped shield of pulsing red light appeared over them a millisecond before the first chuck of ceiling hit it.
The roar of falling rock was deafening as the ground bucked and cracked like a force ten earthquake. After a few seconds, the quakes subsided and the sound slowly faded away into the distance as the shield flickered and died. When he opened his eyes, they were lying in the office corridor where they’d started from without as much as a pebble in sight. He stood up and smiled at her, brushing the dust off of his clothes, “Well done, the tears were a nice touch,” he said as he helped her to her feet.
“I hated every second of it, if there’d been any other way I wouldn’t have done it,” she said.
“That’s a pity, I was about to suggest that we team up once this is all over, you’re a natural con artist.”
“Am not! Take that back or I’ll fire you.”
“For the umpteenth time, I don’t work for you.”
“Then I’ll offer you a job, interview you, call you back for a final interview, hire you, THEN I’ll fire you!”
“If you could pull that off that would be a great con trick. See, I told you that you were a natural.”
“Aargh!” she screamed in frustration as she followed him, thinking this was getting to be a habit.