by Kay Hooper
And Varian released another bestial sound, his hands lifting to her throat even as his mouth crushed hers …
As a huge full moon rose between two mountain peaks and beamed down on the valley, the Curtain was abruptly disturbed by wild streams of energy lancing upward from the Old City. With a sound like thunder, the Curtain rolled and snapped, and the earth heaved and groaned with a new violence.
Shrieks and a roar of rage erupted from the Old City, where only the stoic night watched as two figures struggled frenziedly in a lighted window while jagged bolts of raw power emanated from them.
Lashed by the effects of a titanic battle, Atlantis broke under the strain.
PART THREE
Seattle
FIFTEEN
Serena had forgotten the unnerving sounds and sensations of time travel. Like stepping into total darkness with no idea if she would find solid ground beneath her feet or only miles of air … There was a whistling like wind rushing by, yet no sensation of its passing, and colors she couldn’t see and yet sensed were exploding all around her like starbursts. Something yanked at her as powerfully as gravity, but she was weightless, carried along on a raging tide of space and time. What she knew of reality was warped, shaped, and molded into obedience by the skilled and mighty hand of a Master Wizard.
It seemed to last forever, thousands of years … or maybe it was only a few seconds. Then, with jarring abruptness, her foot touched something hard and the silence was almost deafening and there was light.
She blinked away the retinal shock of passing from total darkness into the normal illumination of daylight and lamps, and looked around her at the familiar outlines of Merlin’s study. And it wasn’t until her breath flooded out in a shaky sigh that she realized how afraid she’d been.
“Serena? Are you all right?” His grasp on her hand tightened.
“Fine. I think. We’re back, aren’t we? We’re really back?”
“Yes, we’re back. Did you expect the gate to fail?”
“I don’t know.” Then she shook her head. “No, of course I didn’t. You built the gate, and I trusted it to work. It’s just that …”
Quietly, Merlin said, “You weren’t sure what we’d find here.”
“No,” she confessed. She glanced behind them to find that the gate had vanished; designed for a single trip, its job was done. And she didn’t have to touch the base of her throat or look at Merlin’s hand to know that the marks had vanished, left in the past where they had belonged.
She looked down at herself a bit warily and then at him, finding them dressed as they had been when they had left the present for the past. Jeans and sweaters. So … normal. So modern.
Merlin sent the box containing his staff back to its accustomed place on one of the shelves. Not letting go of Serena’s hand, he waited for her to reacquaint herself with their present.
“It looks the same,” she murmured, gazing around them. There was the handsome but sparse furniture of the room: a few sturdy chairs and small tables, the desk, a bookstand near the window holding an open, very large, leather-bound manual detailing the abilities of wizards—written entirely in a cryptic language that resembled Latin but wasn’t. There were the other heavy dark volumes and neat scrolls on the shelves, a number of them open on his big desk. “Just the same.”
“Of course. We’ve only been gone a few minutes.”
Intellectually, Serena knew that, but physically and emotionally she was just as certain that nearly a month had passed. She shook her head. “I guess … I expected us to find some kind of visible consequences of the trip here when we came through the gate. I mean, we travelled back in time. Way back. Shouldn’t our return be greeted by—by something?”
“Like what?” Merlin was amused.
“Bells and whistles. Fireworks. A siren or two. The wizard police charging in ready to punish us for travelling in time without the proper permission. A layer of dust on the furniture. Something.”
Merlin looked around them at the peaceful study. “No, I don’t think so. Like so many things of consequence, our trip is going to pass unheralded by everyone except us.”
Serena bit her bottom lip as she gazed up at him. “Well … did we do it? Did we change the present for us?”
He answered quietly. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t expect to see anything changed here in the house—or here in Seattle—whether or not we were successful, since only the society of wizards is likely to be different if we were. To help wizards avoid unnecessary conflict with one another, we live scattered over the globe and gather together as infrequently as possible. When we left, you and I were the only wizards in the Northwest, and that may not have changed.”
Serena was a little surprised. She had known they were the only wizards in Seattle, but she hadn’t really thought about why that was so. “The decision to live apart from each other—did that come about after Atlantis?”
“Yes, I think so. And even if we were successful in changing what went wrong, Atlantis was still destroyed, and given the negative influence of the wizards there, it was undoubtedly taken as a grave warning by the other wizards of the time. It would have been prudent to avoid having too many beings of power together in one place; the society of wizards is still likely to be a scattered one no matter what else changed.”
“Then … how do we find out if we were successful?”
“We ask,” Merlin replied simply. “I can call my father. If we failed, and women are still forbidden to be trained as wizards, I’ll know soon enough. He’ll want to know how the procedure is going”
“The procedure … to render me powerless?”
“Yes.”
There was no phone in Merlin’s study; Serena glanced toward the door and thought about the one out in the foyer. Such a simple thing, to make a phone call. Such a simple thing to measure success … or failure.
“Serena?”
“I’m not so sure I want to know just yet.” With effort, she managed to smile up at him.
Merlin leaned down and kissed her, gently but with his strong desire for her unhidden and barely restrained. “Waiting won’t change anything,” he reminded her.
Serena didn’t know how she would have responded to the truth of that, and before she could think about it, the sudden peal of the doorbell nearly made her jump out of her skin. The sound was both alien and familiar, and definitely disconcerting.
“Was it always that shrill?” she muttered.
“You’ve just forgotten,” Merlin replied, gazing thoughtfully toward the front of the house.
Because he was still holding her hand, Serena was immediately aware of his probing, and also of the results. She was pleased that the physical contact enabled her to share a portion of his considerable abilities, but the knowledge of just who had come calling on this already unsettling Friday morning put a damper on her pleasure.
“Kane.”
“Mmmm.” Merlin looked down at her with a slightly rueful smile. “We didn’t have the time to do anything about Mr. Kane before we left—but he does have to be dealt with.”
“You don’t think he’ll stop digging into our lives if we just ignore him?”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Merlin squeezed her hand and then released it. “Let him in, Serena. Let’s find out what he has on his mind.”
Serena was curious herself, so she went out into the foyer and opened the heavy front door. Studying the reporter—who, as usual, looked rumpled and slightly hung-over—she said mildly, “Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite former journalist. Good morning, Kane. What can I do for you?”
Jeremy Kane’s attempt at a pleasant smile was rather appalling. “Good morning, Serena. What did you think of my article?”
It took Serena a moment to remember—God, had it only been last week?—the details of the malicious article that had proven to be such a powerful catalyst. Gazing at Kane, she wondered if he could possibly imagine what an incredible chain of events he had set into motion.
; Still smiling amiably, she said, “I thought the article belonged in a supermarket rag, Kane. It had all the journalistic class of a story about the latest sighting of Bigfoot or Elvis.”
Kane flushed an angry red. Harshly, he said, “I went to Merlin’s office, but it was closed. Is he here?”
Bring him into the study, Serena.
She stepped back and opened the door wider, thinking how nice it was to hear that calm, resonant voice in her head. She felt very much connected to Merlin, and her awareness of that bond made her certain as his voice. Whether or not they had been successful in changing the society of wizards, together they definitely had found personal triumph.
Kane came into the foyer, looking around and then eyeing her warily as she shut the door behind him. “Where is he?”
“This way.” She strolled into Merlin’s study and took up a position near the desk as she leaned against the back of a leather wingback chair. She was situated perfectly to watch both men.
Merlin was in front of his desk and leaning back against it, with his arms crossed over his chest. His black eyes fixed on Kane as the older man entered the room—and there was a brilliance in them that Serena had never seen Merlin show to anyone in Seattle. It was the somewhat disconcerting look of a Master wizard: an almost hypnotic, unshuttered power.
Kane jolted to a stop a few feet from the desk, one hand reaching for his loosened tie in nervous gesture. He wore a slight frown and was clearly unsettled.
“Hello, Kane,” Merlin said coolly. Even his voice was subtly different, so deep and vibrant it almost seemed to echo in the quiet room. “Is there something I can do for you?”
After a glance at Serena, the reporter said, “You might want to hear this in private, Merlin.” His voice was blustery, the attempt to verbally dominate the younger man completely transparent and hardly successful.
“No, I don’t think so. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Serena. She knows most of my secrets.”
“Most?” Serena queried with interest. “You mean, I don’t know them all?”
“Allow me to preserve some hint of mystery,” Merlin said, turning his head to look at her. “I don’t want to bore you.”
“Somehow, I doubt that could ever happen.”
“Perhaps not, but I’d rather be cautious.”
“Well … if you insist. But you know, of course, that now I’m very curious. In spite of myself, I’ll have to do my best to uncover your secrets.”
Merlin smiled. “I think I’ll enjoy that.”
“Excuse me,” Kane sputtered.
Looking back at their guest, Merlin said politely, “Do forgive us. You were saying?”
“I knew there was something between you two,” Kane said victoriously, allowing himself to be led off on a slight tangent.
Merlin lifted an eyebrow with faint mockery. “Congratulations on your intuition.”
“You aren’t going to deny it?”
“Why on earth should I? What you see before you, Kane, are two—I believe the phrase is consenting adults—who are breaking no laws and harming no one. If there’s a story in that, I’d like to know what it is.”
“She was a minor when she came to live with you,” Kane pointed out nastily.
“Which was nine years ago. Whatever may have happened between us then is definitely old news. In point of fact, I acted as Serena’s guardian until she came of age, and there was nothing sexual between us. If you think you can prove otherwise, go right ahead.”
Kane wasn’t quite willing to wallow in the gutter to the extent of threatening to ruin Merlin’s reputation with veiled accusations of impropriety, and his frustration was as visible as a cloud of steam.
Serena had to hide a smile. She was thoroughly enjoying the little scene, mostly because it was a striking indication of how much Merlin had changed since their trip through time. He was having fun with Kane, and that relaxed, nonchalant attitude was incredibly sexy; it made him seem very human, even as the vivid radiance of his black eyes was a reminder of the vast power under his control.
She didn’t know what he had in mind for Kane, but Serena had the distinct impression that Merlin’s solution for the problem the inquisitive reporter posed was going to be much more playful than it would have been before their visit to Atlantis.
“I’ve been digging into your background,” Kane told the Master wizard finally in a defiant voice.
“Why?” Merlin inquired, nothing in his tone but courteous interest.
“It’s full of weird things, that’s why. Name me somebody else who was involved—to put it politely—in half a dozen mysterious cases of fire before he was out of elementary school.”
“Richard, you didn’t.”
“You weren’t the only one who had trouble with fire, I’m afraid,” Merlin confessed to Serena gravely.
“And you had the nerve to rag me about it!”
“I was much younger at the time than you were, Serena. Much younger. And they were very small fires.”
She sniffed disdainfully. “Yeah, sure.”
Kane, clearly baffled, was scowling, and his voice broke a bit when he said, “There were other odd things too. I managed to track down a few of your schoolmates—”
“Who remembered me clearly after twenty-five years?” Merlin interrupted sardonically.
“Oh, they remembered you, all right. Most of them just said what they recalled was how incredibly lucky you were.”
Serena looked at Kane with lifted brows, and asked in astonishment, “Are you going to hang him for that?”
“No, not for that! But I want to know how he’s going to answer questions that have baffled quite a few experts for twenty-five years.” Kane glared at Merlin. “Questions like—how was it possible that during the several years you lived in Chicago, three planes that should have crashed, didn’t? Those planes were mechanically damaged to the point that all the experts agree they should have gone down. Even the pilots didn’t know what the hell had saved them. And it’s a funny thing. You were there all three times. Twice on field trips with a science class, and the third time about to leave on vacation with your parents.”
Serena gazed at Merlin’s calm face, thinking of a boy not knowledgeable enough to repair damaged planes in such a way that there would be no mystery for the experts, and yet powerful enough to bring the crippled aircraft down safely. Softly, she said, “So we can’t repair the ills of mankind?”
He looked at her and smiled. “No … just a few engines here and there.”
Kane was more than a little disconcerted by the exchange. He looked from one to the other, then blurted, “There were some other things—”
“Never mind.” Merlin studied the visitor briefly, then sighed. “Have a seat, Kane.”
Serena had a premonition. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked.
“Why not?” Merlin shrugged. “After all, we really owe him a debt. If it hadn’t been for his article …”
She agreed with a nod. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we have to go overboard with gratitude. It wasn’t like he had a positive motive for writing that piece.”
“It’s all right, Serena. Trust me.”
She matched his smile, thinking about how both of them had come to value those two simple words. And since she had utter faith in Merlin’s abilities, it was easy to accept his assurances.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kane demanded, frowning. “I came here for a few answers—”
“You came here,” Merlin told him pleasantly, “for a story. I don’t know what you expected to find, and I doubt you were very clear on that point, but what you’re going to get is the truth.”
“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”
“Seeing it might be more convincing.” Smiling, Merlin straightened away from the desk and made a slight, graceful gesture with both hands. Instantly, he was wearing his midnight-blue Master’s robe.
Kane’s mouth dropped open, and he had to try twice before
he could speak. “How’d you do that?”
“I’m a wizard,” Merlin replied simply.
“A Master wizard,” Serena contributed. “That’s top of the line, Kane. It means he’s the best. Your first clue probably should have been his name.”
“Serena.”
“Well, it should have.”
Gripping with white fingers the arms of his chair he had sat in, Kane muttered, “It’s a trick. Just a cheap magician’s trick.”
Merlin shrugged. “If you think that, then obviously there’s no story, is there? You were simply overly suspicious and misinformed. All the experts were wrong, and those planes were quite able to land safely. Those curious little fires in my childhood have a logical and reasonable explanation. And all the other mysteries you’ve uncovered in my past are really not mysteries at all.”
Kane found himself caught in the unenviable position of having been handed a possible answer to all his questions and uneasy suspicions—and finding it so incredible it defied belief. Yet all his instincts were screaming at him, urging him to believe the impossible. He stared at the man before him, at the curiously alien, shimmering robe and that easy, confident smile … and those eyes. Those eyes.
“And if I believe you?” he asked in a thick voice that was hardly more than a whisper.
Merlin was matter of fact. “Then you have one hell of a story, Kane. Just think of it. There are wizards in modern society, beings of power, something the public is hardly aware of. We can create fire and water and control the weather. We can, for the most part, heal the sick and injured, repair damage to virtually anything, and fly without a plane … or a broomstick. We can rearrange matter—meaning that I could turn your chair into a rock or a tiger, and you into a toad if I were so inclined. We can harness and use our own electrical energy as a weapon, precise and deadly as a laser beam. And we can travel through time.”
Kane laughed, harshly but shakily. “You expect me to buy all that? Then turn my chair into a tiger, mighty wizard! Show me your power.”