"I think you're wrong. I know you're wrong. Roxanne, I'm no boy to be deceived by hopeless fantasies-"

"No," she cut him off flatly. "You're a wizard. Wherever you're from and whatever you call yourself, we both know that your kind has the power here. At night you can escape above the Curtain. You can escape Atlantia. You have no reason to be afraid."

Tremayne wanted so badly to touch her, but he dared not; he knew he was under observation, probably from at least one of the windows on the street, because that was the way of Sanctuary, and he knew that if he broke any of their laws, he'd be lucky to get out of the city with his life. All he could do to sway her was to use his words, his voice, his intensity.

"You're wrong, Roxanne, when you say I have no reason to be afraid. This valley scares the hell out of me, because the very earth groans of power misused and hatred and violence. Do you think I find it pleasant to walk the streets of Sanctuary knowing I'm loathed?" He held up his right hand, the back toward her, and the mark of power was an ugly red against his tanned flesh. "If I were like those of the mountains, bent on conquering, do you really think I would allow myself to wear a mark of shame?"

"It isn't-"

"Of course it is." He let his hand fall to his side.

"Roxanne, if you haven't realized yet that the society within these walls is as unnatural as the one high in the mountains, then it's time you did."

"And whose fault is it?" she demanded. "Who started the war that destroyed the Old City and scattered the women of power throughout the valley? Who made the powerless men believe they had only to rape a female wizard to gain her power? Who steals powerless women to be their concubines and slaughters their female children?"

"Not I," he said quietly.

That stopped her, but only for an instant. "Perhaps not. Perhaps outside Atlantia things are different. I-I hear that's so. But it doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does matter, Roxanne, because knowing there's a possibility that the society of wizards is different outside Atlantia should tell you there's another possibility-that male wizards are different, too. I'm not your enemy. I could never be your enemy."

"You can never be anything else."

"I have to be. There isn't much time for me to make you believe I speak the truth, because I'm due to leave Atlantia in a few weeks, but I have to find some way of convincing you I'm not your enemy."

She shook her head a little helplessly. "I don't know what you want of me."

Tremayne spoke slowly and carefully, trying to weigh each word. "What I want… is anything and everything you'll give me, Roxanne. I knew that the instant I laid eyes on you."

Through stiff lips she said, "I know one thing of the male wizards outside Atlantia. They're mad. You're mad. If you want a concubine, go steal some unfortunate powerless woman to satisfy your needs."

"I don't want a concubine." He hesitated, but the sense he had of time slipping from his grasp made him uncharacteristically terse and utterly graceless. "I want a mate."

Shock wiped the color from her face and made her eyes huge with incredulity. "You are mad," she whispered, and without another word she backed away from him, turned, and went into the house, closing the door with a thud.

Tremayne stood there for a moment, silently cursing himself. He glanced up and down the street. It looked deserted, but he could feel eyes on him. If he pounded on the door or, God forbid, tried to get in, he wouldn't last two minutes.

After coming to that realization, he marked the location of the house in his mind and then walked away, automatically heading for the cafe and his meeting with Merlin. He had invited the Master wizard to meet Varian, which meant he'd be in the mountains for the next few days. And away from Roxanne.

His natural impatience urged him to change those plans, to remain in or near Sanctuary and seize every opportunity to see her again, talk to her again. But the voice of reason prevailed eventually. If he tried to persuade her now, he would be fighting her instinctive shock; far better to give her a few days to think about what he'd said. She would see the sense in his contention that he was different from the male wizards she had known.

Surely she would…

An early-morning rain tapped on the roof tiles as Antonia stood gazing out the window of her study. It was possible to see almost all of Sanctuary from here, a sight she enjoyed. She preferred this view to the others her house offered, and because of that she left the window without glass. Since the Curtain invariably warped glass, it was simpler to do without than to have to replace her windowpanes every morning.

"Excuse me, Leader."

Antonia turned to find one of her best-but least imaginative-agents in the doorway awaiting permission to enter. "Come in, Dorcas. You have a report today?"

Dorcas went to stand near the desk in the center of the room. "Yes, Leader. The woman called Serena is most often in the company of Roxanne. She no longer asks so many questions as she did the first day or two, but she continues to explore the city and watch our activities intently."

"Anything more suspicious?"

"No… but she does not behave like a powerless woman-or like a concubine, though she bears the mark of the wizard of Seattle, the one called Merlin."

"Perhaps the powerless women of Seattle behave differently. After all, we've long known that the Curtain has affected powerless women here, making them docile and simple-minded. If Seattle has no Curtain, then the women there might well be drastically unlike ours."

"Perhaps."

"What does Roxanne say?"

"She says the pair is unusual, nothing more. There may be a question of loyalty."

Antonia looked slightly surprised. "Roxanne's loyalty?"

"She knows more than she is willing to say, Leader."

"Is that a proven fact?"

Dorcas stiffened. "My impression, Leader."

"As good as a proven fact then."

Pleased, Dorcas relaxed. "Thank you, Leader."

Antonia turned to gaze out of the window once more, but continued to speak to her agent. "I would like to know more of this Seattle, but I am not yet ready to summon the woman Serena. Keep her under observation as long as she's within the city walls, but don't make it obvious."

"Yes, Leader."

"What of the wizard Merlin?"

"I spoke to the Healer who examined Roxanne. If Roxanne described her injuries accurately, then Merlin's skill as a Healer is far beyond our abilities."

That brought Antonia around to face her agent, her strange, pale eyes brilliant. "Is the Healer certain of this?"

"Yes, Leader. She reports that she would be unable to duplicate his success."

"What else?" Antonia demanded sharply.

"Very little, I'm afraid, Leader. He has spent the last several days in Varian's palace, so we have been unable to observe him. He was unthreatening enough the short time he spent in Sanctuary."

After a moment Antonia turned back to the window. Her voice was calm again when she said, "When he returns to the city, watch him. And report to me immediately."

Dorcas knew a dismissal when she heard one. "Yes, Leader."

Alone again, Antonia gazed down upon the city she had created. Merlin… Was he the one she had waited for so long, the one who would show her the way to triumph?

Some time later she left the window and went into the adjoining room, which was her bedchamber. There was a mirror hanging on the wall by the door, which Antonia automatically cleared of the flaws left by the Curtain during the previous night. When the polished oval was unblemished again, she studied her reflection, turning her head this way and that.

Flawless. She might easily be mistaken for a woman half her age, no more than twenty or so. Her red hair was still bright and rich in color, her skin creamy, her pale blue eyes vivid. And her figure was excellent, slender but seductive.