Kay Hooper - The Wizard Of Seattle

She cleared the mirror and consulted her list again, knowing it could take her days to work her way through all the names. She couldn't devote all her time to the search, of course, no matter how anxious she was; the city had to be run and its citizens looked after, and that was her responsibility.

But she intended to snatch every moment she could in which to continue her search. She had to find the lover fate was offering to her. Only then could she rule all of Atlantia.

"Show me Wyatt…"

By late afternoon of the second day of their hike, Roxanne and Tremayne had covered very little ground-and she knew it was her fault. The closer they came to the village, the more reluctant she was to continue, partly because she was having doubts about what she meant to do, but mostly because she was-against all odds-enjoying this time with Tremayne.

He seemed perfectly happy to slow their pace to a stroll, and there seemed to be a great deal to talk about. He spoke of his home in Europa, answering her questions with vivid descriptions of a world different from the one to which she was accustomed. And Roxanne found herself listening with a wistfulness she couldn't conceal.

"Is it ugly there, as it is here?" she asked him. "With twisted trees and so much rock-and earthquakes?"

"No, Europa is paradise compared to Atlantia. The trees are tall and straight, the grass grows thick and green, and all the water is pure. As for earthquakes, I've never known one to strike Europa."

"And no Curtain," she murmured.

"No Curtain. It's a beautiful land, Roxanne."

"Male and female wizards don't fight there?"

"No. They do tend to avoid each other," he admitted honestly, "but there's no open hostility. What worries me is the notion that the society of Europa could be heading down the same path Atlantia followed. If something isn't done to create a sense of understanding and unity between men and women of power, the entire society of wizards could be doomed."

"Is that why you-"

"No, it isn't." Tremayne's voice was calm. "My feelings for you are entirely personal, Roxanne."

"You don't know me. How could you feel anything for me?"

"I don't know."

That reply startled her so much that she stopped walking and turned to stare at him. "You don't know?"

He was smiling a bit ruefully, but his eyes held that unnerving hunger she had seen before. "It isn't something I can explain or control, you see. It just happened. I looked at you, and something inside me said, 'There she is!' I didn't question it any more than I question that my heart is beating."

After a moment Roxanne turned and kept walking. "You're a very strange man" was all she could manage to say.

Tremayne's only response was to suggest that they find a place to camp for the night. "The village should be no more than an hour or so away, so we can go in first thing in the morning."

Roxanne agreed they should make camp, and by the time darkness and the Curtain fell, they had settled down in the shelter of the trees just east of a ridge. The moon, a bare sliver of light, was briefly visible before the Curtain intensified.

As she made herself comfortable sitting on her side of the campfire, Roxanne noticed that the ground felt warm to the touch, and it made her uneasy. This time of year, the ground never warmed very much even in the sunlight, and here, underneath the trees, it should have remained decidedly chilled. It was another sign of turmoil in the very ground of Atlantia, she realized, like the strong tremor that rocked the valley not long after dark.

Though it didn't seem to damage the area where their camp lay, both Roxanne and Tremayne were disturbed by the quake; it was always unsettling to feel the ground beneath roll and twitch as if it had no more substance than mist. Even after the ground steadied again and the night sounds of the valley had resumed, neither of them felt much like sleeping.

They ate food neither really tasted and talked rather aimlessly for a while, passing the hours. It was near midnight when Tremayne said suddenly, "You can tell me the truth, you know. Or shall I tell you what I think? Your mother would never ask you to risk yourself by crossing the valley at night, would she, Roxanne?"

She was silent, staring at him across the fire.

"Is she even alive?"

"No. She died when I was small."

He sighed softly. "I was hoping you'd tell me yourself, but it appears you aren't going to. So I'll have to confess. I told Merlin how I felt about you, and out of concern for you, he thought I should know about the attack."

"Out of concern for me?" Her voice was brittle.

"Yes. I was so eager for you, I probably would have been impatient and reckless in trying to persuade you I could be trusted-which would have had the opposite effect, as well as quite possibly harming you. Merlin wanted to warn me that you'd been so badly hurt by men, it would take time for you to heal."

He was able to speak calmly only because he had already grappled with his rage and pain at what had been done to her. But he knew that given the chance, he would kill the men who had hurt her. Slowly.

Roxanne looked away from his intent gaze, filled with the oddest combination of emotions. "Do you… I'm surprised you still find me… acceptable."

"Why would I not?"

"You know very well why."

Tremayne waited patiently until her gaze returned to his, and then he said, "Roxanne, if I could, I would make it so that you had never been hurt in any way by any man. What they did to you was terrible, but it certainly wasn't your fault, and it doesn't change how I feel about you."

She didn't believe him, but didn't protest.

He hadn't expected anything else; she was still too wary. Quietly he said, "You mean to find those men, don't you? To destroy them."

"Yes," she answered flatly.

"Will that give you back whatever you feel you lost?"

"I don't know. All I do know is that I can't live knowing they haven't been punished for what they did to me."

Tremayne was silent for a moment. Did he have any right to tell her what she intended to do was wrong? No, not really, not when he wanted to destroy them himself. He couldn't begin to understand how she felt; perhaps a sense of justice would help her to heal completely. But he was very much afraid that killing her rapists would change Roxanne far more deeply and irrevocably than the attack itself.

"Let me do it," he said at last. "Point them out to me, and let me destroy them."

That was the last thing she had expected. "You? But… but why?"

Because I want to . "Because you shouldn't do it. If you kill them, they'll always be with you. If I do it, you'll have the satisfaction of knowing they were punished for what they did to you without the blood on your hands. Or your soul."

"What about your soul?"

Tremayne never got the chance to answer that, because both of them were frozen by the chilling sound of Kerry's shrieks coming from somewhere in the dark woods to the east.

"Roxanne! Roxanne!"

Their stillness lasted only a second or two. Both of them leaped up and raced off in the direction of the child's hysterical screams. The Curtain provided some light for them to see their way even as it sapped their energy, and both Tremayne and Roxanne were breathless by the time they burst into a clearing.

They saw Kerry struggling in the brutal embrace of two village men, her small face white with terror as they tore at her clothing and began to shove her toward the ground.

Roxanne cried out in anguished protest, and even as she was stretching her hand instinctively toward them, she recognized one of the two men as one of her own attackers. Then everything happened so quickly that afterward she was never sure if her recognition of the man in any way changed what seemed fated to be.