The exciting rock number was ending. After a halt of a few beats, the tempo changed to the challenging rhythm of Green Fire's diatribe against hostile occupation of one country by another. The plaintive wail of the uilleann pipe began to snake in and out of the melody.
The music itself began to sound sinister to Liz. During rehearsal she had put it off to the subject matter of the song. It was a violent protest against partisan hatred, a touchy subject to one of her nationality, yet there was more to it than the theme itself. Something was wrong in the fundamental sound of it. A destructive force seemed to be taking hold within the Superdome, but how was it happening? The girl was not there, had never entered the building at all. Every security guard there had her picture and was on the lookout. Ken Lewis hadn't been seen either. Neither one was on site, yet it was undeniable that the feeling of the concert had changed. No matter how benevolent the meaning of the lyrics, it was being perverted somehow into bad magic. The figure of a rampant lion etched in green lasers leaped up out of the steam and roared at the crowd.
"Cor! Effects are getting better all the time!" Laura Manning said, wonderingly. "I didn't know they could do anything like that."
"They're not," Liz said. Cupping her hands around an imaginary bubble of air, she strengthened the ring of protective energy around Fionna. Who was at that moment launching herself forward, toward the front of the stage, step by step, following the lyrics of the song. Liz felt as though she wanted to race out there and pull her back.
It was too late. One more lunging step, and Fee kept moving, right off the end of the stage. Instead of falling into the crowd, she was hoisted up into the air by invisible hands. Her singing turned into more of a scream than usual. The dangling white fringes of her dress went into frenzied shimmying as Fee kicked at the air. Rockets began to blast off again, practically going up her skirts.
The question of how Roberta Unterburger was doing this, with or without Ken Lewis, would have to wait. Other things, like saving Fionna and the band, were more important. The singer was floating higher and higher, until Liz feared she would crash into the Jumbotron. Four gigantic images of her frantic face were being projected on the screens, thanks to the roving cameras in the crowd.
Liz sent an alarmed glance toward Boo-Boo. She couldn't stop the protection charm. He nodded and stepped forward with his arms outstretched.
"Spirits of the air, release. Let your hold on this one cease," he recited. He tossed out a pinch of the feathers he always carried in his pockets. They were caught up in the maelstrom that engulfed the singer and whisked out of sight in a twinkling. "To earth softly let her feet return..."
"Oh, my God, she'll crash and burn!" Laura Manning cried, wringing her hands.
"Do y'all mind?" Boo-Boo asked mildly, with a look of reproof at the makeup artist. "I'm chantin' here... and let her then in peace sojourn!" Boo-Boo threw a handful of energy up towards Fionna. Sparks engulfed the woman in white and settled around her waist like a celestial belt. The crowd oohed, thinking it was part of the special effects.
"Technically this here spell doesn't work, y'know," Boo said to Liz, hauling an invisible cable down hand over hand. Fionna dropped toward him with a shrill cry that echoed out of every speaker in the hall. Boo resumed pulling, but more gently. "But in point of fact it does, in the hands of real magical folks like ourselves. It's about as close to telekinesis as departmental regulations go. I'll show you how if you like."
"I'd enjoy that," Liz said, watching with admiration. "Can I help?"
"Just hang on in there protectin'," he said.
Liz redoubled her chants. When Fionna looked about frantically for them, Liz caught her eye and mouthed, "Keep singing!" Fionna responded like a champion, putting everything she had into her lyrics. Liz felt a rush of affection for her old school chum. She was showing the stuff St. Hilda's girls were made of.
The pipes hissed, producing a huge cloud of steam. A dragon etched in laser fire stretched up from it and spread gigantic wings that extended beyond the wisps of steam. Uh-oh, thought Liz. The energy here was beginning to take on a life of its own.
The line-drawing dragon nipped at Fionna's heels. Descending toward the floor through Beauray's efforts, she was being drawn right into its jaws, bubble and all. It shot out a line drawing of red fire that licked around her legs, causing the fringe on her dress to singe. She kicked at the dragon. Her foot disrupted some of the lines, kicking up sparks. The dragon roared an angry protest. It leaped up, reared back its head, and closed its jaws around her. The protective shell cast by Liz reacted to the attack, blazing up like a light bulb. The dragon burst noisily into a thousand flecks of fire. Tiny flames hissed down onto the stage. The audience, thinking it was all part of the show, screamed with delight. Liz sighed, relieved. Her spell had held. Fionna was safe. Soon, this would be all over, and the concert could proceed uninterrupted.
Fionna kept singing gamely while Beauray continued to haul her down from the air. When she was only a few feet from the floor, there came an audible snap! Fee squawked as the invisible cord broke. She shot up, stopping herself from banging into the Jumbotron with her outstretched hands.
"For pity's sake," she shouted, shoving herself away from the multiple grimacing images of herself and the band. "Get me down from here! I'm not a bleedin' kite!"
"Well, I'll be," said Boo, shaking his head. "It's not strong enough. Whatever that Robbie is pumpin', it is some powerful mojo."
"Do somethin', you sufferin' fools!" Fionna shouted, her accent thickening. "I can't do me dance steps up here!"
The band stopped playing to stare at their lead singer hovering over their heads. When the music died away, the crowd let out cries of protest. In the upper stands a few people started to chant.
"No! No! No! No!"
"Oh, no, we can't have that," Liz said in alarm. "They'll start a riot." She leaned out of the shelter of the speakers, heedless of whether the audience could see her. "Start playing!" she ordered the band. Voe and Eddie looked at each other uncertainly, but Michael strode forward into the center of the round stage, and struck a forceful chord on his guitar.
Bless him, Liz thought.
Automatically, the other musicians followed suit and began to play. Fionna, still hovering above them, started singing again. As the positive side of the energy began to reassert itself, Fionna dropped slightly, lowering to within twenty feet of the stage. The audience, or most of it, cheered.
Not all the protesters stopped complaining. In the area around the apron of the stage, some of the fans began to fight. A skinny man in a T-shirt yelled as he was hoisted up and tossed onto a crowd of bystanders. They threw him off and went to beat up the people who had flung him at them. Up in the stands, more fights were breaking out.
Fed by the anger building in the arena, monsters leaped forth from the steam pipes. Each new creation was larger and more fearsome-looking than before. Each pulled angrily at its roots, achieving a little more distance from the curtain of vapor. It looked like soon they would be able to sustain their reality without touching it. The crowd's own energy was making the threat worse. These new creatures were drawn in multiple colors, disgusting hues of sickly green, blood red, decay brown. Fans near the stage retreated, shrieking, as the beasts struck out at them. The creatures were still insubstantial, but that could change any moment.
"What's going on?" Lloyd demanded, appearing at their shoulder. "Make it stop! Get her down from there!"
"We are trying to," Liz said. "Robbie is employing an astonishing amount of psychic energy."
"What? I thought she couldn't do anything if she wasn't here."