The Wizard of Time

by Therese MacFarland

  "I've heard that time heals all wounds. It seems to take care of other things as well. This really is about the best coffee I've ever had, Morgan. Honestly. Hot. Strong. Sweet. Creamy."

  "Please don't say that again, Trevor, you're giving me hives."

  He laughed freely this time; all the tiny lines coming to life again, his eyes sparkling. And Morgan fell in love for the first time in her life.

  Well, she thought, not love. But something close to it.

  Gideon stretched and yawned and climbed up onto Trevor's shoulder. “Trev, I'm tired. Take me home."

  "Thought you were playing ball today?” Trevor ran a long index finger along Gideon's side, but he had already fallen back asleep. Morgan watched Trevor's finger, decorated with a gold and emerald ring, delicately caress the lizard. She was mesmerized, and shut her mouth quickly when she realized it was hanging open.

  "Morgan? Are you all right?” He still wore a sly smile.

  "No, no, I'm fine. I'm not quite sure what to...” She threw her hands up in despair. “Oh, honestly, Trevor, I'm not sure what to say. Welcome home?"

  Trevor snorted and nodded. “Yes, no need to discuss old times, I suppose."

  Morgan nodded back. Get him out of here. This man has something up his sleeve. Besides that strong arm.

  "Well, I have to get back to work, Trevor. Maybe we'll run into one another sometime. I really am looking for an assistant. If you hear of someone, you'll let me know?” Morgan tried not to look pathetic, but felt the tears threaten to take over again.

  "I'm your new partner."

  "Nonsense."

  "I'm a practicing wizard, a very good one, in fact. I don't have clients here—I haven't set foot in this village since we were children. I help you, you help me. Why not try it, at least?"

  She looked up quickly at what seemed like pleading in his voice. No, not this man. He wouldn't have to ask for anything from anyone. Women must simply fall at his feet.

  "Women must simply fall at your feet.” Morgan gasped at the realization she had spoken aloud. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened one to see that devastating smile. “Damn."

  "You're not falling, I see."

  "Trevor, I wish I could help, but I really need a woman."

  She lowered her voice. “You see, one of my clients is in regular need of ... certain potions..."

  "Love potions...” Trevor arched a brow.

  "Sex potions. As you know only women brew those. I don't need to slay armies or monsters or turn trees into worms and such..."

  Trevor snorted. “Oh, that's what I do all day..."

  "You know what I mean. I need to brew potions—a lot of them. By the book. It's a girl thing."

  "Nonsense. I'm a quick study. Teach me.” He looked from beneath his dark brows and she felt trapped.

  Her one applicant. A man. A wizard, with the power to fill her stomach with butterflies and turn her brain to jelly. Little scrawny Trevor Rains. The glorious man who sipped coffee and gazed at her with an expression she didn't understand.

  "What brought you back to Castle Borough, Trevor?"

  "My mother. I buried her a week ago.” His expression was unreadable.

  Morgan sighed and shook her head. A quick memory of white lace and the smell of apple pies flew by.

  "Oh. I liked your mother."

  "I'm not sure she liked you.” His brief smile softened his words. “I'll leave you now, Morgan. I can see you need time to think. You know the house. It hasn't moved. Don't make the wrong decision."

  Trevor rose and walked close to Morgan, examining her face closely. Then he tucked Gideon under his arm, grabbed his cloak, and swept out the door before she could get another word out.

  "Yes, I remember the house.” she whispered. “Help me, Trevor."

  * * * *

  "Did you hear that?” Gideon asked.

  "I did indeed.” Trevor whistled as he made his way down the path towards home. “She'll get all the help she needs."

  I'll win her heart, take her business, ravish her body so she never forgets, and then, when she's at my mercy, I'll let her know just what her teasing did to skinny little Trevor Rains. And she'll beg me for forgiveness. But she'll get none.

  "She's very pretty, Trev. Just your type, I'd think."

  "Hmnn."

  "And she was quite terrified by me, wasn't she?” Gideon ventured hopefully.

  "Seemed near paralyzed with terror."

  Gideon sighed in satisfaction.

  Chapter Two

  Morgan spent one of the worst weeks of her life alone, frightened, and falling in lust with a man she had seen for fifteen minutes and who in all probability hated her guts. The complaints and returns had slowed to a trickle, but business had stopped completely.

  She held the royal letter to her forehead, hoping to intuit the contents. Nothing. The simplest magic now eluded her. Morgan pulled her cloak around her against the chill of the May air.

  "It's cold.” Morgan wondered if perhaps she was getting sick from the stress. No, something was ... off. The tulips looked a little worried, and she thought she could hear some grumbling from the rest of her garden as well. She watched in wonder as a few squirrels buried nuts, furtively glancing around to ensure their hiding places remained secret. In the late spring, when it should be warm. This is simply weird. She shut the window and sat.

  "I'm losing my mind,” she thought.

  An unfamiliar voice slipped into her mind. You need help, Morgan. Go to him.

  Morgan dismissed the voice as further proof of oncoming insanity. She broke open the royal seal and blew into the envelope, pretty sure what it contained. In fact, the young page delivering the note had told her in no uncertain terms that “King Artimer wants your ass at the Castle immediately."

  Morgan spread the paper on her table and put on her glasses. Yep, there it was.

  Morgan, get your ass up to the castle immediately. Art.

  Morgan felt the tension in her stomach climb to clutch at her heart. This was it. Curtains. Whatever that means. She brushed away a tear, grabbed her basket, and left her cottage, desperately searching for a way to tell Trevor what was happening to her without putting her life into his hands. Because she was pretty sure that's where he wanted her. But why?

  Morgan picked ripe apples along the road to town, to Trevor's house. A blustery day threw new tree buds to the ground like fat raindrops. Morgan felt increasingly uneasy as she watched more squirrels gather huge mouthfuls of leaves for nest building. She looked down at her basket—full of beautiful ripe apples. But the fall apples. She shuddered as understanding took hold. And she began running.

  The seasons! The seasons were ... moving the wrong way! She was losing her magic and the seasons were moving the wrong way!

  "Trevor!” She was panting by the time she reached Trevor's house. She pounded on his door until her hand felt bruised. She heard a hiss and looked down.

  Gideon stuck his head through the swinging pet door and looked up. “Hiiissss! Who goes there?"

  "Gideon, let me in! Where's Trevor?"

  "He's in the shower. Who goes there, I said?” Gideon looked like he'd tear up again.

  Morgan sighed impatiently and stomped her foot. “Oh come on, Gideon! All right, then. Oh, please, don't hurt me, dragon! I come to ask a boon of your master, the great wizard. What must I do to get past you and gain entrance?"

  "Give me some candy and I'll let you in."

  "I don't have any candy. I thought dragons wanted coins and jewels and such. How about a nice crunchy apple?"

  "I'll take those sparkly earrings you have on.” Gideon raised the area of his face where an eyebrow would be if he were human.

  Morgan heard Trevor's curse and watched Gideon frantically scratch the threshold as Trevor pulled him into the house by his back legs.

  Trevor opened the door and Morgan rushed past him, heart racing. “Something's horribly, horribly wrong. The squirrels are burying nuts for the winter and the flowers are freezin
g and the fall apples are ripe ... and, and everything seems to be preparing for winter instead of summer..."

  Morgan looked at Trevor and dropped her basket. The apples rolled across the gleaming wooden floor. They seemed to be moving in slow motion.

  "And?” Trevor smirked.

  "You don't have very many clothes on."

  His voice got syrupy again. “No, I don't. I just showered. Still a little wet and soapy.” But he didn't bother drying off his glistening chest and stomach, his strong arms, the ridges of muscle that rimmed his hips, the trail of hair that started at his navel and pointed downwards. Morgan felt as if time had slowed to a crawl as she watched a drop of water fall from a strand of his long chestnut hair. It hit his chest, making a lazy path onto his nipple and down his stomach until it disappeared in that mysterious dark hair.

  Morgan reached into her pocket and pulled out her glasses. “Oh. My. Stars.” Wet white underwear. All the mysteries of the universe unfolding before her very eyes. He was magnificent, and she felt the burning of moist heat threaten to make her squirm out of her clothes.

  Trevor laughed at her expression and began rubbing a towel across his back.

  Morgan flopped onto the damask couch and continued to stare.

  "Why are you staring like that, Morgan? Surely you've seen a man before? Braxton? I'm no match for Braxton, is that it?"

  "You're spectacular.” Her words were barely audible, but she instantly wanted them back.

  Trevor suddenly looked different. The smile faded and another expression took over, making his eyes darker and his jaw tighten. He bent his head forward and stared into her eyes as he rubbed the towel slowly on his chest and stomach. He slowly inched the towel down beneath the waistband of his shorts. Morgan felt her legs quiver and heat roll around in her stomach like a tornado, only to touch down at her core.

  "What ... what are you doing, Trevor?"

  "I'm drying myself, Morgan. Want to help?” Trevor bit his lip and took in a quick breath as he brushed the towel against his hard shaft.

  Morgan felt the throbbing pick up in intensity, a steady pulse that made her squirm on the couch. Her nipples ached and her breasts seemed to have a mind of their own. As she moved and breathed deeply, they poked further out of her dress until she was nearly topless. Trevor looked at them, caressing himself a little harder with the towel, and Morgan squeezed her eyes shut, unable to take any more.

  "Stop that! You're a tease!” she hissed in reprimand.

  "Not interested, then? All right, I'll change."

  Trevor walked to his bedroom, but left the door open. Morgan watched as, back towards her, he stepped out of his wet underwear and finished toweling himself dry. He was glorious. Trevor looked over his shoulder briefly and Morgan flushed furiously, realizing she had brought her hand to her chest and was moving her fingers to her nipple. Trevor wrapped the towel around his waist and turned to face her. He leaned against the doorframe and whispered, “Go ahead."

  She shook her head, but didn't move her hand away.

  "That wasn't a request. Like this.” He ran his palm across his chest and found his dark nipple, pinching it and twisting it with a grin. “Go ahead.” He moved a few steps towards her. His hazel eyes glimmered and shone like sparkling jewels.

  Morgan barely realized what she was doing as she locked eyes with him. As in a trance, she unlaced her bodice, which was barely necessary, and exposed one full breast to his examination. He clutched the furniture as he worked his way into the living room and back to the couch, where he sat close to her.

  "You know you want to,” he whispered, biting his lower lip, then blowing gently on her breast.

  She pinched her nipple and moaned lightly. His nearness and the smell of his soap and skin and maleness and magic pounded through her.

  Kiss me, Trevor. Kiss all of me. You own me.

  "Nice knockers!” Gideon snickered from the corner of the room.

  Morgan sat up quickly and pulled her bodice closed. You own me? No! Not again. This one can have anyone. And probably does, regularly.

  "You're using magic on me, Trevor, I can feel it. Can't you get laid without magic?"

  Trevor groaned in frustration, sending Gideon a scathing look.

  "Have it your own way, Morgan. But it's not magic, and we're not finished.” He pulled the towel from around his waist and rubbed his hair dry, exposing his enormous erection. Morgan saw a glimmer of moisture on the swollen tip and closed her eyes, trying desperately to shut out the vision that she suspected would last her a lifetime.

  She kept her eyes closed. “I have to get to the castle, and you have to come with me. Art's orders."

  "So I'm your new assistant?"

  "Yes, my partner! Please put clothes on, Trevor, I can't take this. I'll explain on the way."

  "Someone's screwing with time and you've lost your magic?"

  "Yes, how did you know?” She glimpsed down and quickly shut her eyes again.

  Trevor nodded and stood. “I came to the same conclusion today. It's going to ruin all our lives if we can't stop it."

  "Do you understand it?"

  "Not yet.” He walked towards the bedroom and then stopped in his tracks and turned towards her.

  "You do realize I'm quite serious? I rarely take ‘no’ for an answer these days Morgan. I'm not a shy thirteen-year-old anymore."

  "That is, without a doubt, one of the biggest understatements I've ever heard."

  Trevor grinned and Morgan's heart lurched. Lust, yes indeed, it's lust. And if you aren't very, very careful, this man will break your heart, too.

  Chapter Three

  Gideon scurried back and forth along the road to the Castle, jabbering excitedly the whole way. Morgan watched in amazement as the lizard boinged straight up in the air several times while yelling “Yippeeeee!"

  "I'm sorry about this,” Trevor whispered. “He really, really likes the castle and we've never been invited inside."

  "Well, actually, I'm not sure Art expects a ... dragon. He certainly isn't expecting you—and he's a little frightened of wizards. Now, follow my lead when we speak to him, all right, Trevor?"

  "Why would the King be afraid of wizards? Has he even met one?"

  "No, I don't think so. You'll see what I mean. He's afraid of a lot of things—clowns, heights, rabbits ... women. But Art does pretty well with fierce enemies and giants, stuff like that."

  Trevor stopped walking and regarded Morgan with a smile. “You're kidding, of course. He lives on the highest precipice in town and he's afraid of heights? And women? Clowns, okay, I can see that, but women?"

  "You'd better lose that derisive look when you meet him. Art won't hesitate to have your head chopped off, you know."

  Trevor felt a tiny wave of something familiar, yet unfamiliar sweep through his system as Morgan looked at him. He groaned, pushing down the burning that started every time they made eye contact.

  You'll enjoy taking advantage of her, Trevor. Stop feeling sorry for her—she deserves everything she gets. Revenge is sweet. Savor it.

  "I'm a wizard, Morgan. I'm not going to let him chop off my head.” Trevor rolled his eyes and squatted to let Gideon jump on his arm.

  Morgan shook her head uncertainly, sighed, and resumed the walk, pulling her cloak around her as a breeze picked up.

  Gideon counted aloud as they took the Thousand Steps to the Castle. In silent agreement, the trio took the traditional rest at five hundred, peering out at the Scenic Lookout over Castle Borough. Smoke curled in tiny loose spirals from hundreds of grey stone chimneys. The lazy Squoog River snaked its way through the forest and appeared here and there to make a green clearing glimmer with sunlight as it reflected off the water. And, in the distance, they could even see the barest outline of the low, ancient Zog Mountains.

  Morgan sighed and pointed to the Zogs. “You're so lucky, Trevor. You got out of Castle Borough. What's it like? The Upper Territory? Are you going back soon?” She turned her wistful blue eyes to him and he
snapped into a thousand little pieces.

  "Trevor?"

  "Yes, I'll leave eventually, I suppose. They'd like me to settle in at the Academy, teach and such. I've been offered a seat on the High Council of Wizards.” He pulled himself away from her eyes and followed her gaze out over the town.

  "Oh."

  Trevor snuck a glance as Morgan looked down at the ground and kicked at a pebble.

  "After we solve this mystery, get time back in order and such."

  Morgan brightened up a bit. “Oh, well, that could take a while, right? And you just took the position as my assistant..."

  "Partner,” Gideon corrected.

  "Yes, partner."

  They took in the view in silence for a while, watching an iridescent blue dragon as he made slow lazy circles over the treetops. Gideon sighed.

  Trevor took in a deep breath. “Morgan, do you remember our school trip to the castle?” And how I tried to kiss you here when the others had gone on ahead, you standing right where you are now, daydreaming of the Upper Territory?

  "No, not much of it, really. Were you there?"

  Her words pierced Trevor's chest like a hot poker and he felt his cheeks flare up in fury. If his powers were in order, sparks would be flying from his hands. He merely felt a tremor in each fingertip.

  "You don't remember standing here next to me?” Trevor heard the bitterness in his own voice.

  "Not really, Trevor.” Morgan looked at him innocently.

  "You don't remember when I moved very close to you like this?” Trevor moved sideways against the marble railing until his hip and shoulder touched hers. The contact ran through his body like lightening.

  "No ... I would ... I would have remembered that, I think.” She looked up at him, her gaze falling to his lips. He looked at hers.

  She wants you to kiss her. How perfect! Look at it, written all over her stunning face.

  "And you don't remember when I tried to sneak a little kiss? Because that's all I wanted, Morgan. One lousy kiss."

  "Oh, I think I'd remember that. But if you say so, I suppose it happened."

  Trevor backed up a step. She doesn't remember at all! He backed up another step and nearly stumbled as he fell to the marble bench. His mind screamed in confusion. It was impossible to have this many feelings at once, wasn't it? And then to have your cock throbbing and your heart aching in the midst of it all at the sight of her, the smell of her...