Prelude to Magic: The Prequel to Moonlight and Illusions

by Diane Wylie

  “Fit as a fiddle, right sweetheart?” he responded, reaching over to give Ruby a pat on her skirt-covered knee.

  She too looked him up and down. “You do appear to be well now, Stephen, but I must be honest with you. I fear for your health each night when you are out in your workshop.”

  For a few seconds he considered refuting her claims, but decided to let this little drama proceed.

  “Ruby tells me you’ve been working yourself to exhaustion each night,” Michael accused.

  “Are you really so worried, Ruby?” Stephen took her hand in his. He was sincerely touched by her concern.

  “Yes, I am.” She met his gaze and held it, in her determination to bring him to task.

  “If it will help ease your mind, I promise to reduce my time there. I just want to perfect a few new tricks before we go back on stage.”

  “Are you thinking of performing again so soon?” Michael took a sip of his tea as he settled back to continue the conversation. Stephen noticed the prominent veins and dark spots on the back of his brother’s hands…the hands of an aging man.

  As Michael continued to ask questions about whether they would be performing the Omega act and asked about other specific tricks, Stephen gave the answers his brother sought. He withdrew his hand from Ruby’s, glancing down at the back of his own hand. The skin looked the same as always…smooth and unblemished. He raised his head to answer another question.

  “Oh, I really doubt the audience in Philadelphia will react as badly to the Omega trick as the Mexicans. I made a new cabinet for Omega. It is larger so we don’t have to worry about the size of the actor we use.”

  There were only five years difference between him and Michael. Would he have old hands in only five more years? His brother had turned forty a month ago. While growing up they had looked quite similar, but now Michael’s hair was liberally sprinkled with gray.

  With effort Stephen forced himself to concentrate on the conversation, and the next hour passed pleasantly enough.

  Later, as he listened to Calvin reading from his school book before bed, he wondered if tonight would be the night he learned to control the power given to him through the Companion Spirit stone.

  Stephen looked past his son to the window. The moon was round and bright tonight. A full moon was the most powerful time for magic…ancient Mayan magic.

  Ruby slipped into the room quietly, but Stephen knew she was there, as he always sensed her presence. The ties between them were very strong. From the minute he knew she was the woman for him, he had given a part of himself over.

  He turned his head and gave her a smile, only partially listening to the story Calvin was reading.

  “P-pre-kis-ee.”

  “Precise, Cal,” he corrected.

  “Precise is the way of the…” the boy continued.

  A full year of courtship and twelve wonderful years of marriage. He still remembered very well the day she and her father walked into the cabinet shop where he worked before becoming The Illusionist.

  Her dark shining hair caught his eye first. He had been carrying a large pine table into the front of the shop. When he lowered it to the floor, he had locked eyes with a vision dressed in blue, which perfectly complimented her beautiful blue eyes. She had stolen his heart and possessed it still.

  “Time for bed, Calvin,” she said.

  “Yes, Mama.” The book shut with a snap. Stephen suspected his son was all too willing to stop reading. “Good night, Papa and Mama.”

  Ruby leaned down and kissed her son on the cheek. “I’ll be upstairs in a few minutes to tuck you in. I need to speak to your father first.”

  When Cal had thumped his way up the stairs and into his room, Stephen rose and poked the logs in the fireplace apart to allow the fire to cool. Behind him Ruby was snuffing the candles one by one, throwing the room into increasing darkness until only one candle glowed.

  When he turned, she stood in a puddle of moonlight so bright he dared not join her for fear of stimulating the stone hidden in his pocket. He took a seat on the sofa, deep in the shadows and patted the spot beside him. When she settled her skirts, he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss on her pert little nose.

  “What is it you wish to discuss, my dear?” He slid his hand down until he was able to reach around and cup her breast. The weight of it in his hand was satisfying and arousing at once. He was very, very glad Ruby avoided corsets on most days.

  “Oooh. You are distracting me, husband, when we have something serious to discuss.”

  “Oh, yes? Would that topic include heading up to bed with me now?”

  “In a few minutes—” She squeaked and batted his hand away when he gently squeezed her breast. “First I want to know if you meant what you said about spending less time in the workshop?”

  “If it will ease your mind.” But even as he spoke, he knew it would not hold true. The lure of magic was calling him now, second only to the desire to make love to his wife.

  “Good.” Ruby stood and took his hand to urge him up as well. “I know you will be honest with me.” She smiled, her teeth shining in the dim candlelight. “Shall we retire to our room?”

  “Most definitely,” he agreed.

  A few hours later he lay beside Ruby on their fine new feather bed, hearing the creak of the bed ropes as he rolled onto his side. His body was relaxed and satiated, and he hoped his wife’s was as well. Their lovemaking had seemed more intense since they had come home again. Every sensation was magnified and multiplied as if his faculties were sharper and sense of touch more receptive.

  Stephen pressed his naked body against her bare back and bottom, wrapped his arms around her stomach, and pulled her close. She gave a little sigh and snuggled her face into the crook of his arm. Lifting his head, he looked out of the window beyond the bed. Clouds were gathering, blocking out the moon.

  Tonight he would keep his word to Ruby. Without the light from Old Man Moon, the Companion Spirit had no powers to give. It would take time, patience, and plenty of trial and error, but he would harness the power of the stone. Then The Illusionist would draw people from all over the country!

  Chapter Three

  For months he had been working on a new act. The coin and card tricks were practiced with Calvin and Ruby as his audience. His young son was particularly fond of coin tricks, especially if he got to keep the money pulled from behind his ears. After much trial and error, Stephen fashioned a special retractable birdcage and table for the third act. He gave the hinge for the new Omega cabinet another few drops of oil so the door opened and closed without a sound.

  Rag in hand; he polished the wood one last time. Tomorrow he and Jacob would begin packing up the new set of props for his first show in Philadelphia since their return from touring. With the light outside fading as the days grew shorter, Stephen took a few minutes to light the oil lamp and candles. He tossed the last few pieces of wood into the pot bellied stove to ward off the dropping temperatures. To finish reviewing the checklist tonight he would need more wood to keep the heat going for another hour or two.

  Opening the door, he stepped out into the yard and glanced toward the main house. Candlelight glowed in the upstairs windows. Ruby was getting Calvin ready for bed. Stephen smiled into the darkness as he made his way to the stack of firewood near the edge of the yard. As soon as the weather turned cold enough he would teach his son how to ice skate, just as he promised. He and Ruby were pretty good skaters, and had spent many a winter day engaged in this pleasant sport. The smell of burning wood from the fireplace drifted in on a breeze.

  Stephen inhaled a lungful of crisp cool air and pulled his old coat a little tighter before bending to gather up an armload of wood. The wind picked up, blowing the clouds clear of the full moon, allowing bright pale yellow light to reflect off the gold of his wedding ring.

  Moonlight! Stephen’s blood surged through his veins and his heart beat a little faster. Tonight the conditions would be perfe
ct to experience with the Mayan stone again. He kept his promise to Ruby and had not stayed late in the workshop for weeks. The show was booked and everything was ready—except he still didn’t have a special closing act—the one designed to leave them gasping with surprise and talking for days. The disembodied Omega head was good, but it would not compare to a real levitation. Perhaps tonight he could conquer the mystery of the Mayan charm. If he could harness and control its power, oh the wonders he could perform!

  Eager to get started, he hurried back into the one-room workshop, stoked the fire, shed his coat, and prepared the room. He snuffed out all of the candles and turned the wick on the oil lamp down low, plunging the room into near total darkness. Winding around mirrors, cabinets, cartons of props, and cages filled with doves, Stephen made his way to the middle of the room then stretched up and grasped the window cover lever. He had arranged the construction of a special window, built into the slanted roof of the workshop ostensibly to let in daylight, but actually intended to let in magical moonlight as well.

  With a bit of effort, he released the mechanism securing the panel of wood covering the window. The design should keep his young son from opening the panel at an inopportune time. Still holding the handle, Stephen slid the panel into its pocket just like the doors they had in the house. Silvery moonlight poured in through the glass panes, creating a bright square on the hard wood floor.

  First, he planned a simple exercise for practice. Stephen took out three brightly painted wooden balls from a wooden box. After doing a little juggling with them just for fun, he went to a table outside the square of light and placed the red, blue, and yellow balls carefully on the table, making sure they didn’t roll off.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the center of the moonlight, flipped open the top button of his shirt, and pulled out the velvet pouch hanging from a leather thong around his neck.

  “Time to come and play, little Companion Spirit,” he murmured then plunged his fingers inside the thick bag, wrapped them tightly around the square stone, and drew it out. Bracing himself for the consequences, Stephen turned his hand palm up and opened his fingers.

  The silvery beam of moonlight coalesced at the stone. Almost immediately the Companion Spirit glowed. For a few seconds he just watched, amazed again at the unexplainable reaction to the light. When the brilliance became too intense, he had to avert his gaze. Warmth grew in the Mayan stone, but he didn’t drop it. The stone never burned his skin, no matter how hot it felt. As expected, the tingling sensation grew and radiated up his arm.

  Turning his head, he raised his opposite hand and pointed his finger at the red ball on the left side of the table. A concentrated beam of yellow-green light shot from his fingertip and struck the wooden ball with so much force the ball flew backwards and hit the wall. Too strong.

  Perspiration broke out all over his body and trickled down his back. The pain was starting. Hurry now. He pointed at the blue ball. The light hit the ball and rolled the sphere backwards.

  Concentrate. The ball stopped right on the edge of the table.

  Lift. Trembling as he struggled to control the power, Stephen gradually raised his arm. The ball wobbled as it rose an inch, then two and three until it hovered six inches off the table.

  Pain and heat spread down his torso to his legs. His muscles quivered and he gasped for breath.

  “Enough!”

  Slamming his fingers over the ancient stone, Stephen stumbled out of the moonlight, falling to his knees, panting for air. He fumbled until he got the black velvet pouch opened and dropped the Companion Spirit inside.

  Still gulping air with the now familiar exhaustion dragging at his limbs, he crawled to the wooden bench by the stove and pulled his body onto it. He had left a pillow there for just this eventuality and lay down, stretching out as best he could to recover a bit.

  I did it! I made the ball levitate!

  It had taken months of periodic trials to reach this minor victory. He had to harness and tolerate the energy channeled by the stone to present an act to an audience. How much longer he would need to practice, he had no idea, but the trick would surpass all others!

  “You promised me, Stephen Elliott!”

  “W-wha?” Wrenching his eyes open, he gazed blearily into the angry face of his wife. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and her Irish temper was obviously riled as she shook him by the shoulders.

  Grabbing his arm, she gave it a yank and dragged him off the narrow bench. He hit the floor with a loud thump. Rolling onto his back, he splayed out both arms and legs and closed his eyes.

  “Go ahead. Do your worst, woman.”

  Silence ensued, broken only by angry-sounding breathing coming from Ruby. Stephen began to drift off to sleep again.

  “Oooh! You stubborn, bull-headed, loveable man!”

  Opening his eyes reluctantly, he gazed up at the fiery woman and grinned. “It will be a good show on Saturday. Maybe we can get Calvin the Latin tutor he needs.”

  She looked a tad less angry after hearing this. Finally, her face relaxed. Standing next to him she held both hands out, the long, belled sleeves of her white dressing gown fell over her slender wrists.

  “Come on.”

  Stephen took her hands and instead of rising as she expected, he pulled his wife on top of his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck as she giggled like a school girl. Visions of his triumph this night replayed in his head. Real levitation. He had done it once and knew he could do it again. The success made him feel wonderful…and amorous. Out here they could make all the noise they wanted without disturbing their young son. Rolling Ruby onto her back, he kissed his way into her gown. Tonight he would make her cry out with pleasure.

  * * *

  The first performance back in Philadelphia was a rousing success for The Illusionist. People came from miles around to see the disembodied Omega talk. His countrymen were less superstitious than the Mexicans had been, so he didn’t have to repeat his trip to jail. Instead, the applause had been wonderful music to his ears. Pleasing folks in foreign countries had been good, but making people from America happy was even better. A new and exciting time had come for the Elliotts.

  After the last well-wisher left backstage, Stephen, Ruby, and Michael went back to the little dressing room for a celebratory glass of wine. They had started the custom while touring in France, and it turned out to be a great way to relax after a stressful night.

  “Hello, folks.” Jacob waited for them with four glasses of wine already sitting on the table. The young man had not objected in the least, nor had the owners of the Walnut Street Theater, when the Elliotts moved in the furniture from their previous house. They had even donated their old bed for Jacob’s third floor flat in the building.

  Handing his cape to Ruby, Stephen sank into the over-stuffed sofa with a sigh. He really preferred this old furniture to the stylish new pieces, but he would never upset his wife by saying so.

  “It went well tonight,” Michael said, folding his lanky frame into the wing-back chair. “I must tell you, I was quite impressed by the act you did with the two chairs.”

  Ruby, the little tease, gave Stephen a wink. She had been the one to suggest the trick.

  “Thank you. The credit belongs to my wife. This was her idea.”

  She gave him a glass and settled her skirts as she sat beside him. “I thought it was terrific, Stephen. Taking off your shirt was a little gift for the women in the audience, darling. We all love a muscular physique. Stretching your body out straight between the two chairs was a test of strength to impress the men in attendance.” With a smile, she gave his arm a squeeze.

  “You’ve changed since you’ve come back from touring, Mr. Elliott.” Jacob’s young face radiated enthusiasm.

  “I’d have to agree with you, Jacob,” Michael said. “Our magician has never looked more fit, and you were worried about his health, Ruby.”

  “I still think you work too hard, Stephen.” Ruby’s voi
ce held a hint of a pout. She knew he would not stop working, no matter how much she fussed.

  “This is my dream, sweetheart. Most men never realize their true ambition. I intend to make the most of this success while it lasts.”

  Michael held up his glass. “To a long and magical dream.”

  “Cheers!” They chorused, clinking glasses.

  * * *

  His performances were growing stale and Stephen knew it. Despite taking the show to various cities around the United States, the crowds had been slowly dwindling over the past few months. They needed to make a change.

  Tonight was perfect for engaging in some intense practice, he decided as he crossed the back yard to the small, whitewashed workshop. A full moon smiled down on Pennsylvania, casting the shrubs and spring flowers into glowing silvery light. Even ensconced in the thick velvet pouch around his neck, he could feel the Companion Spirit’s warmth begin to grow.

  Other magicians had been performing so called “levitations,” but Stephen knew they had been using wires to suspend their assistants and objects. They didn’t possess what he did. Only he had the ancient Mayan artifact, which truly held the power of magic.

  The corners of his mouth tugged upward as he darkened the room, opened the ceiling panel, and positioned himself facing six colored balls sitting on a table. He took out the stone and held it in the palm of one hand, exposing it to the strong moonlight.

  Power surged through his body and radiated to his opposite hand. By now Stephen’s tolerance to the energy had grown to where the pain was negligible. His control had also increased. Through concentration and positioning of his fingers to guide the beams of light, he was able to get all six balls to lift off the table, and he could command them to spin one by one.

  This trick was sure to impress The Illusionist’s fans.

  Bang!

  The door to the workshop opened violently, letting in a gust of moist spring air. Stephen cut his eyes to the door finding Michael standing there, his eyes wide as he beheld the rotating balls hanging suspended in the air. “My God, Stephen! You are a sorcerer!”