The Wizard

by Karen Ranney

  Unfortunately, he was no longer that naive.

  “Is Billy a member of NASACA?”

  “No.”

  Ellie didn’t expand on her answer.

  “What about other employees of the Herald?”

  “Some.”

  “I’m beginning to think everybody I know is part of NASACA, Ellie.”

  She only smiled.

  “How about your brothers and sister? Are they witches, too?”

  “No. I’m the only one.”

  “Out of four children?”

  “It happens that way sometimes. Once in a while magical ability can even skip a generation. In my case, both my parents have some talent, but it’s not strong.”

  “Do you regret being the only one out of your siblings?”

  She shook her head. “No. Magic’s as much a part of me as my green eyes and red hair. I can’t change those, either.”

  He wondered how different his life would have been if he’d known his heritage from birth. He would have acquired more skill every year. Would he have been a reporter? Would he have been as interested in politics? He’d never know the answers to those questions.

  “Are you sure you feel like working?”

  “I do, if you’re sure you’re ready for me.”

  “I am.” He put the cups in the sink and led her down the corridor. They started up the staircase.

  “This place is huge,” she said, looking around. “I mean, I knew it was large when I came here…” Her words trailed off.

  “After the funeral,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “Fifteen thousand square feet. At least I think I remember that from what Breanna said. It’s too damn big.”

  “How many rooms?”

  “Too many. I’ve only been in some of them once.”

  When they reached the second floor he turned to her.

  “What’s your talent?”

  She looked startled by the question.

  “Don’t all witches specialize in something?”

  “Precognition.”

  “That must come in handy.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t.” She glanced down at the sling. “I can’t seem to see incidents involving me. I can’t control it, either. It comes when it wants to.”

  “That hardly seems to be a talent,” he said, leading the way down the hall. “If you don’t know when it’s coming.”

  The glance she gave him was sharp. He had the feeling that if he hadn’t become her boss she would have fired off a comment.

  When he opened the door to the room next to his study her eyes widened.

  He’d had the bed and the rest of the furniture removed and a new desk and set of bookshelves installed. The wood smelled of varnish and sawdust the way new furniture did.

  “Is this all for me?” she asked, entering the room.

  He nodded as she went to the desk and brushed her fingers over the MacBook Pro.

  “If you’d rather have a Windows unit I can arrange that.”

  “No, this is fine. This is great.”

  He sat in one of the two upholstered chairs in front of the desk. To his surprise she joined him there instead of sitting behind the desk. He’d purchased the same type of chair he used in his study, a tall leather, lumbar supported chair that was comfortable if you had to sit for hours.

  “How do you feel about organizing all my notes? It’s a big project.”

  “Whatever you need me to do.”

  Hiring her had been an impulsive gesture. The old adage about keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer probably applied to this situation. The problem was that he wasn’t sure into which category to put Ellie.

  He’d worked with her for years, ever since she graduated from college. He thought of himself as her mentor. She’d come to him numerous times for advice about an article she was writing. She’d sat in on some of his interviews and questioned him about techniques.

  In the past he’d always trusted her. Now? He wasn’t sure about that, either.

  Ellie had a habit of twisting her fingers together when she was nervous. She often did it before interviewing someone who intimidated her. At the beginning of her career that was everyone. She was doing it now.

  “How long have you been following me?”

  “Following you?”

  He heard the change in her voice and hoped she wouldn’t make the mistake of lying to him. If she did, he’d fire her as fast as he’d hired her.

  She stood, walked to the window and remained there a moment studying the view of the lake and the woods. She’d been shot in those woods. Was that the memory keeping her silent? Or was it something else?

  “Did Grace tell you about the Elders?”

  “Yes.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’ve signed something that’s tantamount to a nondisclosure agreement, Derek. If I violate it, I could be in deep trouble.”

  “So you were following me for the Elders?”

  The more he heard of these Elders, the less he liked them. They sounded like a group of seven bullies.

  She didn’t nod or otherwise confirm his guess.

  “Can you tell me how long you were following me?”

  She turned and faced him. “I shouldn’t.”

  She was still twisting her hands. “Since before Breanna’s death.”

  “Why, Ellie?”

  “Oh, Derek, if I knew I couldn’t tell you, but I don’t know.”

  “What about loyalty, Ellie?” he asked, suddenly angry. He was damned tired of other people interfering in his life. “Will you run to the Elders and tell them everything we discuss? Everything that happens here?”

  She came and sat again, this time behind the desk.

  “I felt it the minute I entered your house after Breanna’s funeral. Your house is warded. It’s protected. It’s like a huge blanket has been thrown over it. It could be Breanna’s wards, or because it was Lionel’s home. I think the reason the Elders were so happy you hired me is because they can’t see inside and they desperately want to.”

  “Why?”

  She looked toward the window again. Was he asking her to violate her NDA? Probably, but he didn’t withdraw the question.

  “They want to know how powerful you are. If one of them calls me and asks me anything about you, I can’t lie to him, Derek.”

  She stood, came around the desk and grabbed her purse. A moment later she was heading for the open door.

  “I’m sorry. I would have really liked to work with you again.”

  “Sit down, Ellie.”

  She glanced at him.

  “I mean it. Sit down. We’ll figure this out.”

  “How? I can’t disobey the Elders, Derek.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  She abruptly sat beside him again, putting her purse in front of her like a shield.

  “Okay, let’s assume that you tell them everything they ask. Do you have to volunteer information?”

  “No,” she said slowly, “I guess I don’t. Unless they say something like: tell us everything you know.”

  “Have they ever done that?”

  She shook her head.

  “Can we make that agreement, then? You tell them what they ask. Be honest and don’t hide anything so you won’t be lying.”

  “I just don’t volunteer anything.”

  “Right. And if they do ask anything odd, will you be able to tell me that or would that be like snitching on the Elders?”

  She smiled. “I guess I could tell you.”

  It was like agreeing to trust a snake. Not Ellie, but the Elders. He would just have to go along with it for now, until he acquired more power and knew what he was doing.

  “Can you tell me anything about NASACA? Or is that forbidden?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Who are the members? I can’t find anything on the internet.”

  Her smile broadened. “You won’t, ever. There’s a who
le IT team whose only job is to scrub any mention of us.”

  “Why, because people don’t believe in magic?”

  “More like some people do. We’d be deluged with requests. Find this, make this guy fall in love with me, change my job, get even with my sister-in-law, tell me what my future is. That sort of thing.”

  He sat back. “Do you do that sort of thing?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t. Some witches do. NASACA doesn’t have a lot of strict rules about how we conduct magic. But the ones we have are important. If someone violates them, they would be punished.”

  “If your talent is precognition, did you know about Breanna?”

  This time she wasn’t as open or as quick with her answer.

  “Yes,” she finally said, “but only an hour or so before.”

  “What did you see?”

  She looked stricken. Her eyes darted from him to the doorway as if she was gauging her escape route.

  “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

  Slowly, she shook her head.

  “Were the Elders involved?”

  “I don’t know, Derek. I really don’t know.”

  “What do you think?”

  She looked away again, this time toward the window.

  “I think they could have been involved. If they were we’d never find out. They’re that good.”

  “Not wizard good, though.”

  She glanced back at him. “No.”

  He sat back. “Will you help me?”

  She nodded, but he knew she didn’t understand.

  “I’m taking lessons from Grace. I’d be more than happy to learn anything you could teach me, too. God knows I need a lot of education.”

  “All right.”

  He stood and showed her his study, then sent her an email with all the passwords and sign ons to the various databases she would need. He added his login to Dropbox and Evernote so she could access the folders he’d set up with his research.

  For now he’d let Ellie think he was focused on a book about politics. The real subject of his book would be closer to home, though. Something along the lines of his transition from reporter to wizard. Let the Elders do something about that expose.

  The jet touched down on the runway of Terloff Airport, specially designed for this one moment in time. Ostensibly, the airport was for non-commercial aircraft, single engine planes flown by doctors and lawyers to either impress their clients or please their families. In actuality, there were few flights ever recorded in logs kept for that purpose. Civilians were discouraged from using Terloff. If they were too curious or given to publicizing their grievances they were allowed to utilize the facilities, but only under strict observation and grudging consent.

  Seven other small airports throughout the United States were similarly equipped, ready at an instant’s notice to accommodate the man who had just arrived.

  Jeffrey nodded to Samuelson, his personal assistant and the individual responsible for keeping at bay those people he didn’t want to see. That meant most of the people who wanted to see him.

  He’d lived most of his life in a single-minded pursuit of power and once he’d acquired that level of skill and influence he went into what he considered maintenance mode.

  No one was going to take what he’d acquired from him.

  He wasn’t known for his compassion or his empathy, which was fine with him. No sorrowful tale or story of bad luck would compel him to do what he did not wish to do.

  That was why he was so annoyed now.

  The bomb should have worked. It was a non-magical solution to a growing problem. Despite Donald’s assurances, the second attempt on McPherson’s life hadn’t proved to be any more successful.

  Jeffrey would not allow another botched effort.

  He didn’t doubt that McPherson’s abilities had somehow prevented his man from succeeding, which was why he had to step in and finish the job. McPherson would be no match for the man who’d acted as wizard for decades.

  Samuelson looked away, but his curiosity was trembling on the surface. Jeffrey could feel it. Samuelson knew better, however, then to question him, especially on a matter this urgent.

  Over the years Jeffrey had devised a method of controlling his subordinates by never giving one more information than another. They were spokes on a wheel, nothing more. He allowed them just enough data to do their jobs and that was all. Therefore, none of his upper management were aware of this trip. Only Samuelson knew that he owned the house that was their destination.

  Twenty years ago he’d set up a base of operations outside Austin and had kept it running ever since. He wanted to know what NASACA was up to in America and it was the only way to eavesdrop on their plans and activities.

  Fortunately, this branch of NASACA was controlled by a rigid group of traditionalists, men without any imagination whatsoever, who preferred to operate as if this was the nineteenth century and not the twenty-first. Their attitude was a boon to him, since it meant that his organization had been able to spy on them without being discovered.

  He’d made a mistake in one regard, however. Grace Colson had been allowed to live. He hadn’t deemed her important enough to be a danger. Now it seemed that he’d been wrong, but it wasn’t an admission he would make to anyone. She’d kept Derek a secret all these years. Jeffrey hadn’t known about him until a few years ago, when one of his spies here in Austin put the pieces of the puzzle together.

  The Elders of NASACA had been idiotic to pair Derek romantically with a witch. They should have stayed out of his life and observed him from afar. Whoever he married wouldn’t have mattered. But, no, they had to interfere and, in doing so, they’d created this entire situation.

  At the same time they eliminated McPherson’s wife they should have eliminated McPherson. It would have saved Jeffrey a great deal of bother.

  Jeffrey couldn’t help but wonder if the Americans had kept McPherson alive to act as a bargaining chip. If he hadn’t been so irritated about the entire situation he might have been willing to trade. Not now. The danger was too great. From what he’d learned, McPherson’s power was rising. The man could easily become more powerful than all of them. Where would they be then? In thrall to one man.

  The idea didn’t sit well with him.

  Not one of the Elders had thought to communicate with him, to ask his advice in the matter. If they had, none of this would have had to happen.

  Fools.

  28

  In the next month Derek balanced his time between Grace’s house and his office at the Crow’s Nest.

  He learned that the book in his possession was called a grimoire, essentially a book of spells and incantations. The discussion came up when Grace spoke about the origins of all the Meriduar groups, specifically dating back to a book called the Arbatel, written in 1575.

  Unlike the Arbatel, which focused on the practitioner of magic leading a good and decent life, the grimoire in Lionel Adams’ possession dealt with the darker side of magic or what Grace called alchemy.

  His skills advanced, as fast as Grace wanted. She was becoming, like it or not, his lodestone, the one constant in his life. He didn’t doubt that he was putting her in danger just by his presence, but whenever he mentioned that she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “I’m the match of any Elder or your father, too, Derek.”

  “He’s a wizard. You’re a witch.”

  “In this case, it’s not that simple a formula.”

  He couldn’t help but wonder what she meant, but she wouldn’t explain further.

  Back at the Crow’s Nest Ellie was settling in well and was just as he remembered: conscientious, punctual, curious, and dedicated. She was going through all the files he’d put together over the years and sorting through his notebooks. When they’d worked together at the Herald she’d learned his shorthand so that was a plus, too.

  Perhaps she was deliberately allaying his suspicions, but whenever she had contact with the Elders she told hi
m. The most recent was a phone call she received at 4:30 AM this morning from Michael Woods.

  “I don’t think he sleeps,” she said. “Or if he does, it’s not very much.”

  “What did he want?”

  “To know what you’re learning from Grace.”

  He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. “What did you tell them?”

  “That I didn’t know everything you’ve learned. It’s not something we talk about.”

  That was true enough.

  “But they did want to know the layout of the house.”

  He felt the first stirrings of alarm. “Did they?”

  She nodded. “I told them about the second floor, the kitchen, and the other rooms I knew about, like your study, but I haven’t seen the whole house.”

  “Do they want you to?”

  “Yes. They want a floor plan.”

  He was going to have to keep Ellie from providing that, especially any information about the third floor and the secret room.

  “Did they ask you what I’m doing every day?”

  She shook her head. “No, which probably means that someone else has the assignment to watch you.”

  He should probably warn Grace. Or maybe she’d already figured it out. Not much escaped his mother.

  “Did they want to know anything else?”

  She shook her head again.

  Her answer should’ve reassured him. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Why push Ellie to establish a relationship with him and then not be curious about the target?

  He wasn’t certain what seven powerful practitioners of magic could do, but he wasn’t about to sell them short.

  For the past two days he’d been practicing remote viewing with Grace. Now he had another thought.

  “Could they be using you? Could they see with your eyes?”

  She stared at him, unblinking. He didn’t know if it was because the idea was preposterous or that it had never occurred to her. He’d already learned that almost anything was possible in magic. If the human mind could imagine it, nine times out of ten it could be achieved.

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly.

  “What would it take for them to do that?”

  “I guess they would have to spell me.”