Kay Hooper - The Wizard Of Seattle

Serena had forgotten the other wizard so completely that it took her several moments to remember the acquisitiveness in the eyes that had stripped her naked. "Oh, him," she said finally. "Do you really think he could be watching?"

"No, because I've hidden our camp. If he's near, he won't be able to see us. But I'd rather stay alert for a while just to be sure."

She nodded and climbed to her feet. Then a thought occurred to her, and she gazed down at Merlin with a slight frown. "You said that I'd be a Master wizard one day, and I know that's assuming we do change our present and change the attitudes of male wizards in our time-but what about us? When we step back through the gate, won't we be changed, too?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. If we're successful, we will have created a slightly different reality for ourselves, but because we were in this time when it happened, we'll remember our lives as we lived them."

"What about other people? The other wizards in our time, let's say. If we're successful, they will be different, won't they?"

"Yes, very likely, and they may well have different memories than we do. For instance, since the Council will, presumably, have no ban against females to enforce, they won't remember that I was ever called to explain myself on that topic. But that memory still exists for me because I lived through it."

"So… we'll retain our own experiences. But will the other wizards have memories of us that we don't? I mean, say they had a wizard gathering for Christmas or something and we came because I wouldn't have been forbidden. Is that possible?"

"Serena-"

"But we won't remember that because we were here . So who was there singing 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' with all the other cheerful wizards? Our doppelgangers? And are those two impostors banished to some weird twilight zone because we return to our proper time?"

"Stop scaring yourself."

Serena heard herself laugh a little. "It's not hard. Please tell me we don't have doubles."

"We don't have doubles. Serena, you and I have been very isolated from other wizards, and I don't see why that would change even if the society of wizards has. You would still have come looking for me when you were sixteen, and since wizards have always learned their craft with a single Master away from others, I would have trained you virtually the way I did. The other wizards won't remember ever seeing you because they didn't -though they'll likely know about you."

"Yeah, but-"

"Remember what we discussed before we left Seattle? The theory is, we can't change our pasts because if we did, the reasons we had for coming back in time would no longer exist. Paradox. Satisfied?"

"No. I think there's a hole in there somewhere, but I guess we'll find out when we go back to Seattle." She only hoped she didn't have nightmares. She was halfway to the lean-to when another question caught her interest, but she didn't ask until she was comfortably wrapped in blankets against the night chill and turned on her side to gaze toward the fire and Merlin. "Richard?"

"Hmmm?"

"While we're being so honest with each other…"

He turned his head toward her, his profile sharply outlined by the leaping flames. "Yes?"

"How old are you?"

A little chuckle escaped him. "Judging by the questions you asked when you first came to me, quite a bit younger than you think. Wizards aren't ageless, though we do tend to live quite a bit longer than our powerless counterparts."

"You didn't answer the question."

"I'm thirty-six, Serena. Now get some rest." She was smiling. "All right. Good night."

"Good night. Sleep well."

Serena thought she probably would, even if she did dream about doppelgangers.

Disgusted, Varian finally conjured himself a warm fire and hunkered down beside it, wrapping his coat around him for added warmth as the chill of the night increased.

Goddamn that Merlin! The younger wizard had somehow managed to elude Varian despite all his efforts, taking his redheaded bitch and going to ground with her somewhere up here. Not that Varian could blame him for being selfish by keeping her to himself, but it was terribly frustrating nevertheless.

He considered making his way to Justin's palace and spending the rest of the night there, but discarded the thought quickly; he was never at ease around other male wizards except in the fortress of his own palace. He also considered conjuring a shelter for himself, but decided against that, as well, because he preferred not to alert Justin to his presence by expending that amount of energy.

So he was condemned to spending an uncomfortably chilly night up here, an indignity he laid at Merlin's door. Still, he felt a certain amount of respect. The wizard of Seattle was dearly both canny and skilled, and he obviously intended to protect his concubine however it was necessary.

Couldn't blame him for that, either, Varian acknowledged silently. One look at that vibrant red hair, luscious, ripe body, and beautiful face, and most any man would be caught even before he got close enough to meet those snapping green eyes and hear her pleasing voice…

He shifted on the hard ground, suddenly uncomfortable as his manly parts swelled and throbbed and protested the constriction of his trousers. God rot the bitch, just the thought of her was enough to have him randy and ready to ride her! He wanted her, and he intended to have her-no matter how vigilantly Merlin protected her.

In the meantime a long and decidedly chilly night lay ahead of him.

It was just after dawn when Serena woke and crawled out of her lean-to. The fire was still burning, and Merlin was asleep on a pallet nearby, his coat wrapped around him and his lean face peaceful. Serena crept close and knelt down, careful not to disturb him. He was incredibly handsome, she thought, admiring the perfection of his strong features. The liquid dark eyes were hidden from her by thick lashes, but even those were sexy in a way she couldn't define.

Compulsively she reached out a hand and very softly touched his tumbled black hair-and her senses nearly went into overload. Soft, thick, a bit damp from the morning dew. Alive under her fingers. All of him was so alive. Even without his intense black eyes radiating power, his strength was obvious. Serena brushed a curl off his wide forehead and wondered if she could heal him.

The vague thoughts coalesced, and her fingers stilled, lightly touching his hair. Could she heal him? He hadn't said no, she remembered. In fact, he hadn't commented at all when she had asked him to let her try.

The problem was, Serena didn't know how to try. This wasn't a relatively simple case of healing a burn or mending a broken bone or sealing a tear in the flesh. Nor was it as exacting as the deft manipulation of a virus. This was something almost abstract. Merlin's wound was emotional, maybe even psychic-as that word pertained to the soul. His deepest instincts had been… maimed, his natural responses curbed and repressed.

There was no way she could repair all that damage; much of it he would simply have to do himself through the natural course of time and positive experience, the way humans had always cured their inner wounds. But perhaps she could make a start, she thought. Drive a gentle wedge to prop open a door-just a small door, carefully chosen.

She tried to focus, tried to single out one thing on which she could concentrate all her ability, and when she found it, she directed a narrow, careful flow of positive energy and healing wishes.

She wanted him to heal, wanted it desperately, and that determination infused the brief stream of energy with a strength that made it even more positive.

Was it successful? Serena didn't know. She sat back on her heels at last and gazed down at him, still sleeping deeply, his handsome face relaxed. If she had done it, then the door was open now for him to begin trusting her; the inclination toward mistrust that had been seared into his instincts would be softened, blurred a bit, more receptive to his intellect's desire to change. A beginning, no more.