The Wizard of Seattle (15 page)

Had she missed it until now because her senses had never been open? Was the strange box one of the things
in a wizard’s world that had no substance until it was seen? She lifted it down; it was about two feet long, eight inches wide, and eight inches deep. It was heavy, and she could see no seam, no hinge or lid of any kind.

She carried it to the desk and set it down, then studied the box intently. The symbols were vaguely familiar to her, and she thought she might have seen them somewhere else, in a different combination, perhaps in one of Merlin’s spellbooks. She felt along the edges of the box very carefully with just the tips of her fingers, but could still distinguish no seam or opening of any kind.

“Damn,” she muttered.

“Ever heard of Pandora’s box?”

With a guilty start she looked up to find Merlin leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look angry—but then, she hadn’t had much luck in interpreting his expressions lately, so she couldn’t be sure.

Sighing, she said, “Yes, I’ve heard of it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop. Well, I did, actually, but I shouldn’t have, so I’m sorry.”

Merlin inclined his head slightly, as if accepting the apology, but his eyes were speculative. “Open the box, Serena.”

She started to say she could see no way to open it, but then she realized. If there was no apparent seam, no hinges or handles or obvious lock, then clearly it was meant to be opened by less-conventional means.

This was not something Serena had been taught to do. And since she hadn’t been able to open the study door when Merlin had barred it, she wasn’t at all sure she would have much luck with the sealed box. But given his permission and urged on by her own curiosity, she gave it her best shot.

Without actually touching the wood, she glided her fingers along the edges very slowly, allowing her senses to probe. She could feel something inside the box, something that radiated the warmth of power, and her fascination grew. She focused her concentration even more, using her energies to delicately explore the box. Searching … searching …

The lid of the box silently lifted.

Serena caught her breath, staring. Inside, cradled on a bed of black silk, lay the most curious-looking thing she had ever seen in her life. It was a staff about twenty inches long and made of carved wood that was heavily inlaid with gold and crusted with numerous jewels. At one end, obviously the top, was a large round crystal, polished to a flawless finish and about the size of a man’s fist. Below the crystal, a narrow band of gold encircled the staff, and below that were diamond-shaped bits of inlaid gold, each set with a marquise diamond of several karats.

The handgrip, about halfway down the staff, was made of brushed gold; immediately above and below the grip was a heavy ridge of large rubies encircling the staff, the stones a brilliant scarlet. Below the handgrip, the staff began to narrow, finishing almost at a point. Along the lower section were three inlaid bands of gold, each set with several radiant sapphires.

Serena understood the significance of the various stones. The crystal was the most obvious; from ancient times it had been used by wizards, seers, and other beings of power to divine the future. Diamonds were known as the “king-gems” and symbolized fearlessness and invincibility, as well as conferring superior strength, fortitude, and courage on one who possessed them. Rubies symbolized command, nobility, and lordship, as well as vengeance. Sapphires, particularly blue ones, represented wisdom, high and magnanimous thoughts, and vigilance.

Gold, in the society of wizards, denoted absolute truth—and absolute power.

Tearing her eyes away from the incredibly beautiful staff, Serena looked across the room at Merlin and almost whispered, “What is it?”

For a moment he didn’t move or answer, merely looking back at her with a slight frown and narrowed eyes. But then he left the open doorway and came to the desk, halting to the left of Serena so that no more than a foot of space separated them.

He wasn’t looking at her now, but at the staff. With
his left hand he lifted it from its box, holding it horizontally, then turning his wrist so that the staff came upright, the crystal at the top gleaming and every gem catching the light and reflecting it in white, red, and blue fire. The gold handgrip fit his hand perfectly.

“The staff of a Master wizard,” Merlin said slowly. “Made by his hand, without power. The stones have to be gathered from all over the world, and the gold has to be mined. Everything borrowed from the earth, from the wood of the staff to the crystal crowning it.”

Serena turned her head to stare up at him. “You made it? Without any of your powers?”

He met her gaze, his own grave. “With my powers, it would have been easy. But the final step from Advanced wizard to Master is the learning of a very simple lesson. Nothing should be too easy, Serena. We can never forget that we were meant to work at life.”

Gazing into his black eyes, she felt … caught. Had they been this close before? Yes, when they danced. But dances were public, and this felt very, very private.

“If you made it without power,” she managed to say, “then why can I feel power emanating from it?”

“What you feel is my power.” He spoke as quietly as she had, his low voice a little husky. “The staff is a conduit, channeling and focusing energies. In ancient times, it was used like a wand to direct the current of a wizard’s energy in a specific direction; now it’s more a symbol. But a Master’s staff always absorbs and holds a part of his power. A part of himself.”

From the corner of her eye, Serena caught movement and realized that he was returning the staff to its box, but she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. She had the curious idea that she had never looked at him before.

Merlin half turned toward her and lifted one hand as if to touch her. But then his face changed subtly and he was moving away from her, around to the other side of the desk. Serena was left feeling bereft, struggling silently against the urge to reach out to him or say his name—anything to recapture that instant of closeness.

But she knew it was gone, gone because he had
pushed it away. Gone because there were boundaries they weren’t supposed to cross, that was what he’d said.

Serena drew a breath. “Do you want me to put the box back on the shelf?”

“No, leave it.” He was opening one of several books on the big desk, frowning down at it. “We’ll need the copy of Gray’s
Spells and Incantations
. Could you get it, please?”

“Yes, of course.” She left the study without another word. Obviously he wanted to be alone for a couple of minutes, she decided. Not a bad idea; she could use a little time to pull herself together.

When she’d gone, Merlin looked after her for a moment and then turned his gaze to the staff in its box. The lid of the box closed silently when he directed it to, and it returned to the shelf where Serena had found it.

He sat down in the chair behind the desk and drew a deep breath. This time the tightness in his chest didn’t ease at all. Once again Serena had jarred him with an unprecedented ability. Only a Master wizard could open the box containing his staff, and her ability to open his had caught him completely off guard despite his invitation for her to do it.

What else could she do? Three times now she had gotten closer to him than anyone ever had, twice inside his very consciousness and now this.

The urge to protect himself was almost overwhelming, and his struggle to master that instinctive alarm was a fierce inner battle. In the end all he could do was reach a truce with the primitive emotions Serena had awakened inside him—a momentary peace, but no resolution.

It was enough, he thought as he heard Serena’s light step on the stairs. It would have to be enough.

“It doesn’t look like a gate,” Serena said, contemplating one corner of Merlin’s study.

The corner did indeed look quite innocent on this Friday morning, with nothing to mark its importance except for a very slight shimmer in the air—like heat radiating off pavement on a summer’s day—which seemed to hold the shape of an arch.

“Why that corner?” she asked. “I mean, why not one of the other corners?”

Merlin leaned back against his desk, one hand resting lightly on the box containing his staff, and shook his head. “We’re about to journey back in time to a lost continent—a lost
world
—and you’re worried about why I chose a particular corner among four of them in which to build the gate?”

Serena sighed. “Okay, so I’m nervous. I’ve never traveled through time before. What do I expect?”

“It won’t be like stepping through a doorway,” he told her. “There will be a period of … unusual sensation. Darkness probably, and sounds.”

She didn’t have the nerve to question him for more specifics. “Oh.”

Merlin smiled slightly, but went on in the same matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve set the gate to help us blend into our surroundings once we reach Atlantis. We’ll hear the people there speak in English, and they’ll hear us respond to them in their own language; that way, if the language is completely unfamiliar to us, we won’t be at a disadvantage. And our clothing will be whatever is suitable.”

Serena looked down at her sweater and jeans. “Suitable? What if they’re nudists?”

“Then we’ll be naked.”

She wasn’t particularly shy, but found that idea appalling. “I hope you aren’t serious.”

Still smiling faintly, Merlin said, “Serena, communal nudity isn’t at all likely. In fact, you’ll no doubt think they wear far too many clothes—especially since you’ll presumably be in some kind of skirt.”

She winced. “Great. Something guaranteed to get in my way for sure. Can’t I keep my jeans and call it a new style?”

“No.”

She watched him pick up the box containing his staff and tuck it underneath one arm, and felt a wave of panic. They were going. They were really going, right now. “Um … are you sure I’m ready for this?”

“Certain. Your mask of powerlessness is perfect, Serena.
No wizard we encounter will be able to sense anything else.”

“Maybe, but I could always use another lesson. For instance, I’m not quite sure—”

“Serena.”

She looked at him, then drew a breath.

“All right. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

He held out his free hand to her, and when she took it, twined their fingers together securely. “Hold on,” he instructed.

That was something Serena didn’t need to be told. She wasn’t about to let go of him. The reality of what they were about to do had hit her only last night when she was supposed to be resting for the trip, and now only her trust in Merlin enabled her to walk to the gate beside him.

They paused for an instant, their glances meeting briefly, green eyes and black both holding glimmers of wariness and uncertainty—and then stepped through the gate together.

She knew the village men had finally left her even though there was no respite from the pain they had inflicted. It washed over her in glittering white-hot waves, causing her muscles to jerk feebly in a response far beyond her control. But her mind was clear and calm, her thoughts almost peaceful and detached from the pain of her poor, tortured body
.

She was dying. Roxanne knew that, but it didn’t seem to matter very much to her. She wished idly that they hadn’t left her naked, but the coldness of the ground beneath her no longer disturbed her, and she fancied she could feel the first warmth of the rising sun and sense its light
.

She heard a faint sound and, untroubled and vaguely curious, considered what it might be. Footsteps? Perhaps. Coming toward her, she thought. It was morning now, and the village men wouldn’t hurt her anymore. Couldn’t hurt her anymore
.

No one in Atlantia could hurt her now
.

I
t was like stepping into total darkness with no idea if you would find solid ground beneath your feet or only miles of air. Serena could feel Merlin’s hand gripping hers, but nothing else. There was a whistling sound like wind rushing by, yet she felt no sensation of its passing, and there were colors she couldn’t see. It seemed to last a long time, or maybe it was only seconds. Then, with jarring abruptness, her foot touched something hard, night sounds flooded her ears, and there was light.

She realized that she was breathing in a jerky rhythm, that her heart was pounding. “You didn’t warn me,” she muttered, blinking because her eyes were tearing.

“I’ve never gone this far before,” Merlin replied, his own voice a little breathless.

Neither of them moved for several moments, both concentrating on catching breath and balance, adjusting to an atmosphere that felt thickened, humid, and chilly and held a faint smell like sulfur. Their body weight seemed greater, and they had the skin-prickling perception of energy in the very air around them.

“God, it’s like an alien planet,” Serena murmured as her senses began coping. “Are you sure it isn’t?”

“I’m sure,” Merlin replied. “We’re in Atlantis.”