Kay Hooper - The Wizard Of Seattle

At her side Tremayne stretched out his own hand, despite the danger of the Curtain, his only thought to save the child. The pulsing streams of energy that left his hand and Roxanne's met and twined together, forming one stream. With no interference from the Curtain, the energy obliterated first one of the men and then the other-with no sound at all except the sharp pops of air rushing in to fill the voids left by two bodies that were there one instant… and gone the next.

Roxanne rushed to gather Kerry into her arms, holding the sobbing child tightly against her. "It's all right," she murmured. "It's all right."

"I-I just wanted to-to be with you, Roxanne," Kerry wailed, shaking violently. "I didn't mean to do- anything wrong, I p-promise!"

"I know you didn't, sweetheart. It's all right, don't cry. It's over now. You're safe." Roxanne looked at Tremayne as he knelt beside her, both of them only now wondering how and why their power had combined, and how they'd been able to use it despite the Curtain.

Tremayne gazed into Roxanne's wide, darkened eyes for a moment, and then reached out and very gently placed his hand on Kerry's head in a comforting gesture. Roxanne looked at it, large and strong, and remembered how instantly and unhesitatingly he had moved to help the child. Something inside her that had been closed seemed to open up a bit, and she lifted her own hand to cover his.

"It's your fetal charm," Serena said gravely as she followed Merlin up a narrow mountain path.

"I doubt that," he retorted, throwing the words over his shoulder. "What it is, is a power play, pure and simple. Antonia has her own agenda, and my part would have been something like… the mate of a black widow spider."

"Yuk. Don't the females-"

"Yes. They do. That's how they got the name."

Serena thought about that as they climbed, then objected. "But she wouldn't kill her mate, would she? Antonia, I mean. A wizard's power dies with him or her, so she'd need her mate alive if it's power she's after. Wouldn't she?"

"How very prosaic you are."

She couldn't help laughing a little, even as she reflected that he must have found the interview with Antonia distinctly unnerving. She was only grateful that he had emerged apparently without having been dragged back into the struggle between his instincts and his intellect; his attitude toward Antonia seemed more to do with the lady's own personality than any prohibition his ancestors had decreed.

"Well," she said finally, "it's true, isn't it? A dead mate wouldn't be much good to Antonia."

"I suppose not. Though I'm sure she has every intention of being the dominant partner in any… merger. She's for too ambitious to be willing to share power, despite what she said to me."

The sun went down about then, and the first flickering haze of the Curtain began forming over the valley, but they were high enough to escape the effects. They had chosen a mountain at random and were at the east end of the valley above Sanctuary; they could see the scattered lights of the city, though as the night wore on and the Curtain thickened, those would become less visible.

They were heading for a spot halfway up this mountain, where there appeared to be a clearing. They could have covered the distance far more quickly than they had by simply transporting once out of sight of the gates of Sanctuary, but both enjoyed walking, and they had gotten used to more primitive means of travel in Atlantis.

"I won't know how to drive when we get back," Serena had commented somewhat ruefully. "Has it only been two weeks?"

Now, glancing across the valley, she saw the moon rise between two peaks and shivered slightly. Just a sliver now, but within a few days it would be a quarter, then a half… and eventually, in barely two weeks, the moon would be round and full-the final warning of the destruction of Atlantis.

"Serena?"

Realizing she had come to a stop, she turned her back to the valley and quickly caught up with him. "Sorry."

Merlin had stopped to wait for her, and looked down at her with a slight frown. "What's wrong?"

With forced lightness she replied, "I was just thinking how soon the fireworks are due to start around here."

Steadily he said, "It happened a long, long time ago. Try to think of it that way."

As they began climbing again, this time side by side, she said, "I've tried, but I can't help it when that doesn't always work. I think of Roxanne as my friend, you know, and we can't be certain she'll leave here with Tremayne. And then there's little Kerry…"

"Is that the child whose mother was looking for her as we left Roxanne's house?" Merlin asked, trying to distract her thoughts from the coming devastation.

"Um. She's a little imp, always sneaking off and worrying people, according to Roxanne. Between them, she and Felice-who's more of a foster mother, by the way-have their hands full watching Kerry." With a slight grimace Serena added, "I'm not surprised the kid made herself scarce, though; with Roxanne leaving the city yesterday afternoon and Felice preoccupied because she's trying to get pregnant, I imagine Kerry found herself at loose ends. And she's a doer."

"Do you want children?" Merlin startled himself as much as Serena with the question.

"I don't know. Yes, I think so." She cleared her throat. "To be honest, I haven't thought a lot about it. There didn't seem to be much use in it."

They had reached the clearing that was their goal, and Merlin stopped, looking down at Serena. It was getting dark rapidly, but he could still see her lovely, solemn face. "Why not?" he asked her curiously.

"Because I thought you were beyond reach," she answered candidly. "I couldn't see myself getting married or making a baby with anyone else, not when I loved you. So it seemed… less painful to just not think about it."

Merlin felt a strange sensation in his chest, as if his heart had turned over. Slowly he said, "You've gone out with dozens of men over the years."

"And you've gone out with dozens of women," she reminded him. "All a part of the social pretense of being just like everyone else instead of wizards." Turning away and shrugging off her backpack, she added dryly, "Of course, I didn't have a bordello to go to."

He followed her slowly, grappling with what she seemed to be telling him. As he shrugged out of his backpack, he said a bit absently, "I'm never going to live that down with you, am I?"

"Not on your life. Shall I put the fire here?"

"Yes-and be careful."

"Something I'll never be able to live down," she murmured, recalling her youthful attempt to create fire back in Seattle that had nearly resulted in a four-alarm blaze.

The clearing was tucked back several yards away from a sharp diff overlooking the valley, with trees climbing the slopes. It was as if someone had carved a large step from the mountain. Behind Serena and beginning some feet away was a rock-strewn gradient that eventually grew steeper and became dotted with trees farther up the mountain.

Merlin watched her, critical out of habit because he'd been her teacher for so long.

After dropping her backpack to the ground and pushing the edges of her cloak back over her shoulders, Serena created a small basin in the ground by circling her hand above it, and then prepared to make a campfire. But before she could begin, a deep, angry rumble signaled yet another tremor, and she found herself completely occupied in trying to keep her balance on ground that was suddenly no more solid than quicksand.

It seemed to get darker as the earth heaved and moaned underneath them; even the sliver of moon hid behind scudding clouds. Over the unholy racket of a continent trying to wrench itself apart, Merlin heard a different sound, and he sensed the threat hidden by darkness. Without thought and out of an instinct born of man rather than wizard, he leaped toward Serena.