"Forgot?"

His disbelief touched a nerve, and Serena felt herself stiffen. A bit tautly she said, "It was on Tuesday. You may remember I had a lot on my mind Tuesday."

He leaned back in his chair slowly, still gazing at her with grim eyes, the newspaper lying on the table before him, his plate pushed to the side.

Serena's instincts told her to keep her mouth shut until he calmed down, but this hadn't been her best week, and she needed to let off a little steam. Being Serena, she opened every valve.

Recklessly, she said, "If you're so worried about the damned article, zap it out of the paper. Of course there'll be a rather large blank place, but you can probably fill it with a farm report or something."

"And am I supposed to zap it out of the mind of everyone who's already read it?"

"Why not? I may be no good at mind control, but I'll bet you're terrific at it. Aren't you? It certainly can't be beyond the powers of a Master wizard to create a little amnesia here and there."

"Kane's column," Merlin said evenly, "is syndicated in a hundred newspapers across the country."

"Including one in Chicago, I'll bet. That's it, isn't it? You don't want His Honor to know you're living with a woman he knows damned well isn't your niece."

Ignoring that, Merlin said, "I can hardly influence the minds of a few million people. I'm not all-powerful, Serena, and certainly not infallible."

"I know." She suddenly wanted to cry.

His anger drained away as quickly as hers had, and Merlin looked at her with instant awareness. They were both remembering a blond woman and an all-too-human act, and this time it was Serena who looked away first.

"Sorry I didn't warn you about Kane," she said. "It's obviously a little late to worry about closing the barn door, since the horse is on its way and there doesn't seem to be much we can do about it. Anyway, the article certainly could have been worse, so we're lucky there. And maybe whoever it is you don't want reading it won't."

Merlin didn't say anything for a moment, and when he did speak, his voice was still a bit rough. "Serena, don't judge me before you know all the facts."

Her gaze returned to his face, the green eyes guarded. "Sure. You just tell me when I have them, okay?"

He couldn't blame her for the frustration she clearly felt, nor could he make it easier on her by disclosing a few of those necessary facts. There was far too much he didn't understand himself, and his own emotions were making it more difficult for him to see the situation dearly.

All he could do was try to keep everything, including Serena, under control until he found the answers for which he'd been searching.

Serena pushed back her chair and left the table, every taut line of her body expressing her vexation with him. Merlin rose, as well, and followed her out into the foyer, intending to say something that would allow them to part for the day on fairly amiable terms. He didn't like being at odds with Serena; it made him feel uncharacteristically morose and had a tendency to cause the rest of his day to be miserable.

But before he could say anything, the phone on the hall table rang.

She was getting her raincoat from the tree by the front door, so Merlin answered. And even though he'd been half prepared for it from the moment he had read Kane's article, the matter-of-fact voice on the other end of the line nonetheless caught him by surprise.

"Merlin, this is Jordan."

Unconsciously, Merlin gazed straight at Serena. "Hello, Jordan. How have you been?"

Ignoring the pleasantry, the other man said, "How soon can you get here?"

An interesting question, Merlin reflected. He could, of course, "get there" instantly, and both of them knew it. But the appearance and demands of his normal life made instantaneous transportation an extremely rare thing, used only during the direst of emergencies.

"I can clear my desk by lunchtime," he said.

"Good. Take the first available flight after noon. I'll meet you at the airport."

"I'll be there." Merlin listened to the dial tone for a moment, then cradled the receiver. He was still looking at Serena. She had put on her raincoat but hadn't left the house because his stare and his end of the conversation had caught her attention. So much so, in fact, that she seemed to forget she'd been mad at him.

"Be there?" Her voice was hesitant, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Merlin started to tell her he was going out of town for a day or so, but the memory of what had happened last time forced him to be much more specific. "A meeting of the Council of Elders has been called," he said. "I've been asked to attend." Asked? He'd damned well been ordered.

Serena took a step toward him, still hesitant but probably alerted by some tone in his voice. "Have you done something wrong?"

A bit dryly Merlin replied, "You could say that, yes."

Wizards were born with finite degrees of power, some high and some low. No amount of learning could increase that inherent level of force; instruction and knowledge could only perfect the control, the mastery of what was innately possessed. Merlin was on the high end of that scale, one of the extraordinarily rare beings born with almost unlimited potential.

Jordan was at the low end of the scale.

He was almost as tall as Merlin, but lacked the other man's power in almost every respect. Jordan was fair, thin, pale-eyed, soft-voiced. Born with so little ability that he barely qualified as a wizard, he might have grown to resent those farther up the evolutionary scale than himself; instead, he had chosen to put his stronger talents of organization and efficiency to good use, and so served as a kind of administrative manager for the Council of Elders.

He met Merlin at O'Hare Airport, his cool Nordic looks and placid voice an island of tranquility in a sea of bustling humanity, and led the way briskly to the dark, inconspicuous Lincoln he had left in a no-parking zone. Naturally there was no ticket.

Merlin sat in the front beside Jordan, unwilling to give the appearance of being chauffeured, even though he was. He disliked ceremony and avoided it whenever possible. Especially whenever he was in the company of other wizards.

It was just after six o'clock, and since it was late autumn, it was both dark and chilly outside. A gloomy omen, Merlin thought, and instantly chided himself for the superstition.

"Where's the meeting?" he asked, even though he was fairly sure he already knew.

Jordan didn't turn his attention from the road. "The judge's house, as usual," he replied.

Merlin glanced at his driver, wondering idly and not for the first time why Jordan referred to the Council members by their positions or titles in the "real" world rather than their names. A mania for secrecy perhaps? If so, it was no wonder. The six men he served had in common a secret that would have rocked this technically advanced and cynical world if it had been made public.

The news wouldn't have done wizards much good, either. Though Serena had been flippant when she had described another Salem witch hunt, the truth was that the discovery of wizards in their midst could certainly have the powerless population of the world both frightened and up in arms.

Hardly something anyone wanted to happen.

The remainder of the drive out of the city and into the suburbs was spent in silence. Almost an hour after leaving the airport, Jordan turned the big car into the driveway of a secluded mansion. The gates opened to admit them, and moments later the car drew to a stop near the bottom of wide brick steps leading to a front door.

"They're already waiting for you in the study," Jordan said as the two men got out of the car. "I'll see that your bag is taken up to your room."