The Wizard

by Karen Ranney

  “Yes, Ms. Hunt,” he said, his tone decidedly irritated now. Gone was the avuncular demeanor. This version of Woods was all business.

  The six other men at the table were watching her like she was prey. Even the guy who looked like he was used to smiling most of the time had a decidedly predatory glint in his eye.

  “I don’t know what you mean about being protective, sir. I’ve worked with Derek for a few years. He’s helped me at work and I’ve been assigned to a few of his projects. We know each other as coworkers. I don’t know if that qualifies as protective.”

  She didn’t know what was worse: Woods frowning at her or the smile that suddenly cracked his face.

  “We would like you to become more, Ms. Hunt.”

  More?

  “We want you to establish a closer relationship with Derek.”

  Shocked, she could only stare at him. “He’s just lost his wife, sir.”

  His smile disappeared and in its place was an even more censorious frown. She’d screwed up by making a statement that was close to criticism. One did not criticize an Elder.

  “What I meant, sir, is that he’s not likely to want any kind of relationship at the moment.”

  “Then it’s your task to change his mind.”

  He had the right to ask questions of her, but surely he knew that she wasn’t as talented as some of the members. They’d recently welcomed a thirteen-year-old girl into NASACA. She had a strong ability to command the elements. If you wanted it to rain in your neck of the woods Denise could make it happen. The weather in your vicinity would be delightful if she liked you. If she didn’t, you’d better prepare yourself for high winds and sleet.

  Ellie didn’t have that strong of a talent. She worked hard and that counted for something, but her only native ability was precognition and she couldn’t even control that. It came when it wanted, showing her scenes that could happen in a minute or a month from now.

  “Am I wrong in understanding that one of your abilities is persuasion?”

  She had been practicing, but it was a nascent skill. However, she was smart enough not to screw up for the second time and say something that could be construed as criticism.

  Instead, she nodded, wondering what the punishment for lying to an Elder was.

  “Time is of the essence, Ms. Hunt. We need someone close to him.”

  He glanced at the other men as if asking for their approval. One by one they nodded.

  “We have reason to believe that Derek has begun to use his powers. We need confirmation.”

  In other words, she’d been given an order and expected to obey. One way or another.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He smiled again, an expression that didn’t fit well on his long face.

  The other Elders didn’t speak. Was she dismissed? Should she ask? After five uncomfortable silent minutes she stood, grabbed her purse, and forced a smile to her face.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He inclined his head almost regally, a gesture of dismissal.

  She knew an escape when she saw it and left the room without a backward glance or a bow. It took her another few minutes before she was out of the building, but once she was in the car again she let out a sigh of relief.

  What the hell did they expect from her? In any other situation she might’ve taken this assignment and been delighted. Derek was a great guy, but right now he was grieving and she suspected that the Elders were responsible for that.

  Somehow, she was going to have to do what they wanted. Either that or she was going to suffer Breanna’s fate.

  18

  At eight o’clock Derek called the Herald, but Billy wasn’t there yet. He never got in on time, but the owner of the paper didn’t seem to mind as long as Billy continued to be a Grade A suck up.

  Billy didn’t call back until nine thirty and by that time Derek was pulling up in front of Grace’s house. Bubbles was in the passenger seat of the Porsche. Since he didn’t have a cat carrier or anything resembling a collar or leash, he’d turned a plastic laundry basket over Bubbles. The basket had plenty of holes and Bubbles had yowled her displeasure the whole way.

  When the phone rang he was just putting the car into park.

  “Yeah, Derek, what’s up, man?”

  Billy always spoke like a stoner. Some of the recent decisions he made caused Derek to think that he was using weed just a little too often. Texas wasn’t Colorado. Weed was still illegal here, but that didn’t seem to bother Billy.

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” Derek said. “I think I’m going to take a sabbatical.”

  Billy didn’t say anything.

  “There are things I need to do right now.”

  “I understand, man. Take your time. However long you need.”

  Thankfully, Billy didn’t pin him down to a timeframe. At this point, he wasn’t even sure he was going back to the Herald.

  He loved his job, loved the challenge of it, enjoyed the fact that he had some kind of following, people who believed he was a straight shooter, and that he told them the truth. At the same time he resented the bureaucracy of the Herald and even the fact that he had to report to an idiot like Billy.

  Breanna’s legacy to him was freedom beyond his wildest dreams. At the same time it came laden with confusion and more than one puzzle. He wanted to solve those before he returned to work.

  He unfolded himself out of the Porsche and went around to the passenger side. He’d already figured out the logistics of carrying Bubbles, but he wasn’t sure how annoyed the cat would be. To his surprise, Bubbles went limp in his arms, looked up at him with an adoring sigh, and began to purr.

  “She likes you.”

  He glanced over to find Grace standing on the sidewalk smiling at him. Today she had on a bright yellow top with black pants and reminded him of a bumblebee.

  “I have no idea how your cat got into my house.”

  “Bubbles has a way of appearing where she wants, regardless of anyone’s wishes. She’s a determined feline.”

  When he approached her, she stretched out her arms and Bubbles allowed herself to be transferred. She immediately climbed onto Grace’s shoulder, and sent him a look he interpreted as, Eat your heart out, sailor. I’m already spoken for.

  “Will you have some coffee?” she asked.

  He accepted, since he needed to ask her a few questions.

  She led the way through the living room and into a surprisingly large kitchen. A kitchen easily the size of the oil tycoon’s complete with stainless steel appliances, two ovens, granite countertops, and a kitchen island with a sink and glass cooktop.

  He stopped in the doorway and looked at her. “Your house doesn’t look very big from the outside, Grace. Eleven hundred, maybe twelve hundred square feet.”

  “It’s somewhat larger,” she said with a smile.

  He walked back down the hall to the archway where he’d been trapped the day before. The living room wasn’t the same size. He estimated that it was twice as large as it had been the first time he’d come to Grace’s home.

  When he returned to the kitchen she was making coffee, that half smile still on her face.

  “Okay, explain. Why does everything look different?”

  “Does it?” She only smiled at him. She had a habit of doing that, especially when she didn’t want to answer a question.

  This time, he decided to press her. “What’s real, Grace? What I saw yesterday or what I’m seeing today? What about your appearance? Do you really look as young as you do?”

  “What a lovely compliment. Thank you.”

  She poured two cups of coffee, then took them to a large round table on the other side of the room. The wall curved here, with a window overlooking a lush garden.

  “We’ve found that it’s better, all in all, to make our houses appears slightly smaller than what they are. Otherwise, our property taxes are too high.”

  “You mean all your neighbors are witches, too?”

  “They�
�re not all witches, but they’re all members of the NASACA.”

  He sat where she indicated, opposite him at the round table. For a moment he concentrated on his coffee which was perfect, just as it had been yesterday.

  Every time he saw her she stripped him of words and maybe reason. Her and her damn cat. Bubbles was nowhere to be found. She was probably hiding in the Porsche. The Chihuahua hadn’t made an appearance, either. Had he been real?

  “Can you manipulate anything else? Like the weather?”

  He wasn’t sure when he’d started to believe her. Maybe it was when she’d spun the web. Or when he’d sent the beer bottle flying. Or it could have been discovering Breanna’s secret room. Somehow he’d not only fallen down the rabbit hole; he’d become a card carrying member of Wonderland.

  “Just my environment. I haven’t any talent in weather. I’m a scryer.”

  He knew the word, but not the context.

  “I can see what’s happening in the world. Some people call it remote viewing. Some of my fellow witches use crystal balls or they have the capacity to look inward for their visions. I use water.”

  “Can you tell the future?”

  “No, thank God,” she said, her fervor surprising him. “The present — and sometimes the past — is fraught with enough drama.”

  He stared down into his cup.

  “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

  He didn’t answer her directly. “Tell me about Breanna.”

  Her smile disappeared. “I met her a year ago and liked her immediately. I knew who she was, of course, and perhaps part of my initial compassion for her was based on my knowledge.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because of her father,” Grace said.

  “What about her father?”

  She stared out at the garden for a minute or two. When she turned to him again her eyes were troubled.

  “Let’s talk about Brianna for now.”

  He nodded. He needed information and he would have stood on his head and sung The Yellow Rose of Texas if that’s what Grace wanted.

  “Breanna always sat where you’re sitting now. Whenever she came we had a lovely visit.”

  “Did she come often?”

  She nodded. “A few times a week.” She glanced at him. “She was very worried about you, you know. She knew all of the forces arrayed against you and wanted to protect you.”

  “My father, you mean. The great warlock of the universe.”

  She took a sip of her coffee, placed the cup down on the table and concentrated on it for a moment. Without looking at him she said, “He’s a wizard and you can ridicule the situation all you like, Derek. It doesn’t make it less serious.”

  “Look at it from my point of view. Two weeks ago my life was almost Nirvana. I was married to a woman I loved, someone who was funny and smart and who loved me back. My past, for the most part, was uneventful. I had a great childhood with parents who loved me. And suddenly it’s all gone or it’s different. I’m supposed to accept that I am this great warlock — wizard — in training.”

  “What do you object to the most, Derek, finding out that your life was a sham or that your future could be anything you want?”

  He made his living with words, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything to say in response to her comment.

  “Breanna wasn’t a sham,” he finally said.

  “No, she wasn’t.”

  She stood and went to the counter beside the refrigerator where she retrieved something from a covered container. When she returned and placed it on the table he wasn’t unduly surprised to discover that she’d made him lemon meringue pie.

  He picked up the fork, grateful for something to do other than sit there and stare at her and took a bite. It was the best pie he’d ever tasted. Eating occupied him for several moments. When he was done he put the fork down on the plate, stood, and put the plate and the fork in the sink, earning a smile from Grace.

  “Why did Breanna come to you?”

  “Because I’m your mother. If you can involve a blood relative in a spell it’s more impactful.”

  “She wanted you to give her a spell?”

  He felt like he was tiptoeing through a minefield with these questions. She’d been remarkably open about her answers, but one false step and she might see him to the door.

  She shook her head. “No. She wanted me to join her in enforcing a protection spell around you. I did so willingly, but I should have considered that she needed her own spell, too.”

  “I’ve tried to research NASACA and the Meriduar. I can’t find anything on the internet about it.”

  “You won’t. What do you want to know?”

  “Anything. Everything.”

  “A few people, pathetically small numbers when measured against the whole, banded together to form the Meriduar, a name floating down from history. I’ve been told it meant truth seeker, but I’ve never been able to verify that.

  “As our numbers grew globally, the powers that be divided the world into four sections, each about two billion people. The NASACA Meriduar for North America, South America, and Central Africa, the European Meriduar, the South Asian Meriduar, and the SACO Meriduar, which represents Southeast Asia, China, and Oceania.”

  “It isn’t a democratic organization, but that doesn’t matter. Any member can simply leave if he wishes. They’re not obligated to remain.”

  “It sounds like AAA for witches.”

  She smiled.

  “Just how many people believe in witches, warlocks, or wizards?”

  “How many people believe?”

  The question seemed to startle her. “There are millions of members in NASACA. Even more in other Meriduar divisions.”

  “How do you join?”

  “You don’t. Magic is bestowed at birth. Magic isn’t something you learn from a box. Nor do you ever see it at a Vegas show. You don’t pull rabbits from hats or cut people in half. Each person who has a touch of magic in them knows it in childhood. We each have a talent. Some of us more than others.”

  “I didn’t know. If I’m supposed to be this super duper wizard, I didn’t know anything in my childhood. I didn’t feel weird or strange or special. I was just myself.”

  “But you’re different. You don’t just practice magic. You command it.”

  He didn’t understand that either, but rather than get lost in minutia he went back to something she’d said earlier.

  “Who ordered Breanna to meet me?”

  She took another sip of her coffee, evidently in no hurry to answer him. He pretended a patience he wasn’t feeling.

  “The Elders,” she said, putting her cup down. She laced her fingers together, staring at her joined hands as if they were of infinite importance. Perhaps that was easier than looking at him.

  “The Elders? Who the hell are they?”

  Her smile was swift. “Seven very self-important men, Derek. Men who believe they hold the destiny of the world at their fingertips.”

  “I don’t understand any of this, Grace.”

  “And why should you? You were born to this world, but you’re not part of it.”

  No, he was born to command it, at least according to Grace.

  “The Elders are the most powerful among us. They aren’t elected to their office. They achieve it through their abilities. They govern not in a representative fashion as much as a paternal one. They see the members of the NASACA as their flock to be protected.”

  He didn’t comment, waiting for Grace to finish her point.

  “They thought that Breanna was the perfect person to approach you. She was single, attractive, and needing to prove herself to the Elders.”

  When he would have asked a question she shook her head.

  “Because of her father,” she added, as if she’d heard his thoughts. “Lionel had been essentially excommunicated by the Elders. If she wanted to remain in NASACA she had to demonstrate that she could obey orders and tha
t she wasn’t anything like her father.”

  “Why was Lionel excommunicated?” he asked before she could silence him.

  She stood and walked back to the coffee machine. She didn’t pour herself more coffee. Nor did she ask if he wanted any. She just stood there staring out at the garden.

  “Lionel did something terrible, bringing shame to all of us. Breanna was the only family he had left, the one person to bear the brunt of what he’d done. She spent years trying to make up for her father’s sin.”

  Another tempting detour. He kept to the main road.

  “They had the power to force her to do what they wanted?”

  That didn’t match what he knew of Breanna. She was her own woman with a temper if she was sufficiently annoyed. He couldn’t see her as someone who would willingly do another’s bidding without a good reason.

  “She would have been asked to leave NASACA if she hadn’t. Even worse, her banishment would have given rise to even more rumors about Lionel. She loved her father enough to obey them. Besides, being banished from NASACA is no light punishment. All of us want to surround ourselves with people who are like us, people who understand. If she’d been forced to leave, she would have been all alone.”

  No, not alone. He would have been with her.

  19

  Derek had the impression that Grace’s calm was just a facade, that talking about Breanna disturbed her.

  She was staring out into the backyard, her focus on a beautiful terra-cotta fountain. The plumes of water into the air were almost hypnotic.

  Finally, she returned to the table.

  “Only one man leads the European Meriduar. Your father. Jeffrey’s been in power for decades and I doubt he’s ready to relinquish that position any time soon.”

  He didn’t want to talk about his father.

  “You said that Breanna was commanded to meet me. Was she supposed to marry me, too?”

  “No, I don’t think any of the Elders expected that. They must have been pleasantly surprised by that development. Everything changed, however, Derek. She fell in love with you. I hope you believe that. Despite the pressure she was under to keep up the pretense she wanted to tell you the truth. That’s another reason she came to see me. She thought that since I’d been an Elder I might have some influence over the others.” She shook her head as if to negate that idea.