"Yeah? Let's hear it."

"Seeing it might be more convincing." Smiling, Merlin straightened away from the desk and made a slight, graceful gesture with both hands. Instantly, he was wearing his midnight-blue Master's robe.

Kane's mouth dropped open, and he had to try twice before he could speak. "How'd you do that?"

"I'm a wizard," Merlin replied simply.

"A Master wizard," Serena contributed. "That's top of the line, Kane. It means he's the best. Your first due probably should have been his name."

"Serena."

"Well, it should have."

Gripping with white fingers the arms of his chair he had sat in, Kane muttered, "It's a trick. Just a cheap magician's trick."

Merlin shrugged. "If you think that, then obviously there's no story, is there? You were simply overly suspicious and misinformed. All the experts were wrong, and those planes were quite able to land safely. Those curious little fires in my childhood have a logical and reasonable explanation. And all the other mysteries you've uncovered in my past are really not mysteries at all."

Kane found himself caught in the unenviable position of having been handed a possible answer to all his questions and uneasy suspicions-and finding it so incredible it defied belief. Yet all his instincts were screaming at him, urging him to believe the impossible. He stared at the man before him, at the curiously alien, shimmering robe and that easy, confident smile… and those eyes. Those eyes.

"And if I believe you?" he asked in a thick voice that was hardly more than a whisper.

Merlin was matter of fact. "Then you have one hell of a story, Kane. Just think of it. There are wizards in modern society, beings of power, something the public is hardly aware of. We can create fire and water and control the weather. We can, for the most part, heal the sick and injured, repair damage to virtually anything, and fly without a plane… or a broomstick. We can rearrange matter-meaning that I could turn your chair into a rock or a tiger, and you into a toad if I were so inclined. We can harness and use our own electrical energy as a weapon, precise and deadly as a laser beam. And we can travel through time."

Kane laughed, harshly but shakily. "You expect me to buy all that? Then turn my chair into a tiger, mighty wizard! Show me your power."

With no more than a flick of his fingers, Merlin did, and Kane jerked away from the large, warm, reclining body he found himself sitting on just as it turned its striped face toward him and growled softly.

"Jesus!"

The tiger rose to its feet and snarled again, yellow eyes fierce-and then reformed smoothly into a sturdy, inanimate chair. Kane backed away from it and from Merlin until he was pressed against crowded bookshelves. His face was very pale, but he was managing to control his panic.

"You asked," Merlin reminded him dryly.

"I thought we couldn't do that," Serena said in an aggrieved tone. "Create living beings."

"Some of us can," Merlin told her. "But animals only, and the higher orders are extremely difficult."

"You lied to me!"

"Not at all. I merely withheld the truth. Besides, you won't be able to do it until you're a Master."

"Oh. Well, in that case, you're forgiven."

Ignoring this exchange, the reporter darted his gaze around the room as if looking for an escape, and fixed on Serena. The realization seemed to dismay him almost comically. "You too?"

"Afraid so. I'm Richard's Apprentice. I came to him at sixteen to learn how to be a wizard."

Kane glared at her. "Bigfoot and Elvis sightings, huh?"

A low laugh escaped her. "Touché. But we are different, you know. We aren't tacky."

Kane grappled a moment in silence, trying to work things out in his mind, then said, "That announcement about the grant. You did take it from my apartment."

It took Serena a moment to remember, and then she nodded. "Yeah, I did. I wanted to know if Seth got the grant. So I sent for it to come to your pocket. And then I just put you to sleep before you could pass out."

"I don't believe this. Any of it."

Merlin, able to sense as well as see the reporter's rising agitation, spoke calmly. "We're no threat to you, Kane. To any of you. I'll tell you another little secret. Our kind has walked the earth as long as yours has; there have always been beings of power-and there always will be. With very few exceptions, we've learned to pass unnoticed in society."

"Exceptions?"

"Some of us have been careless from time to time, which is why there are stories about witches and sorcerers and the like. And some born wizards don't realize what they are, which is why they make a living performing parlor tricks like bending spoons and taking photographs with their minds."

Kane felt oddly relieved when Merlin-Was he the wizard Merlin? But how was that possible?-made another of those supple gestures that apparently caused his blue robe to vanish and leave him dressed normally again in jeans and a thick sweater. Then he leaned back against the desk again while Kane tried to make himself think clearly.

"If you don't want this to get out, then why the hell are you admitting it to me?" he demanded finally.

"Mostly because I knew very well you weren't going to give up." Merlin smiled faintly. "That was obvious. I could have removed any interest in myself and Serena from your mind, but that's an intrusion I'd rather not have to make."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. You see, we don't toy with people, Kane. It's against our laws. At the same time, we have no intention of going public just yet; it's a human trait to always fear what you don't understand, and that could cause us a great deal of unnecessary trouble… as it has in the past."

"These are hardly the Dark Ages," Kane scoffed. "We're not afraid of things that go bump in the night."

"Oh? Then why are you backed up against a shelf?"

Embarrassed, the reporter straightened his shoulders and stepped forward toward the desk-and Merlin. But his bravado didn't hide his wariness when he said, "If you're not threatening to do something to my mind, then what makes you think I'm not going to take this story public?"

"They wouldn't believe you," Serena murmured. "You'd sound like a raving lunatic. And in a contest of your word against Richard's, he'd win hands down."

Kane thought she was probably right. Keeping his gaze on the Master wizard, he said, "Maybe that's true, but I wouldn't be the first reporter to face disbelief- and if you yell long enough, people start to listen. And believe."

Merlin looked at him steadily. "I want to make something very dear, Kane. I have the ability to make very sure you never say a word about this to anyone. I can place a spell on you that's rather like a post-hypnotic suggestion, so that all you would have to do is simply decide to tell someone-and you'd lose it. You would instantly have no memory of this conversation or any interest in us whatsoever. In other words, you would lose, for all time, a part of your experience. A piece of your being."

Kane found that unexpectedly sobering and not a little chilling. He swallowed hard. "And you don't toy with us, huh?"

"I'm not toying with you, I'm merely telling you what I'm capable of."

"Then we're back to square one," the reporter said. "If you have no intention of going public, why the hell did you tell me about this? To torture me?"

"No. To make a point, I suppose."

"Which is?"

Merlin's wide shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug, and he smiled. "That there are more things in heaven and earth than even a jaded investigative reporter could imagine. You had talent, Kane, and you let it trickle through your fingers; I think that was a shame. I think that, somewhere along the way-and please forgive the maudlin phrase-you gave up on life. It's a waste, and I hate waste."