Prelude to Magic: The Prequel to Moonlight and Illusions (4 page)

Stephen looked past his son to the window. The moon
was round and bright tonight. A full moon was the most powerful
time for magic…ancient Mayan magic.

Ruby slipped into the room quietly, but Stephen knew
she was there, as he always sensed her presence. The ties between
them were very strong. From the minute he knew she was the woman
for him, he had given a part of himself over.

He turned his head and gave her a smile, only
partially listening to the story Calvin was reading.

“P-pre-kis-ee.”

“Precise, Cal,” he corrected.

“Precise is the way of the…” the boy continued.

A full year of courtship and twelve wonderful years
of marriage. He still remembered very well the day she and her
father walked into the cabinet shop where he worked before becoming
The Illusionist.

Her dark shining hair caught his eye first. He had
been carrying a large pine table into the front of the shop. When
he lowered it to the floor, he had locked eyes with a vision
dressed in blue, which perfectly complimented her beautiful blue
eyes. She had stolen his heart and possessed it still.

“Time for bed, Calvin,” she said.

“Yes, Mama.” The book shut with a snap. Stephen
suspected his son was all too willing to stop reading. “Good night,
Papa and Mama.”

Ruby leaned down and kissed her son on the cheek.
“I’ll be upstairs in a few minutes to tuck you in. I need to speak
to your father first.”

When Cal had thumped his way up the stairs and into
his room, Stephen rose and poked the logs in the fireplace apart to
allow the fire to cool. Behind him Ruby was snuffing the candles
one by one, throwing the room into increasing darkness until only
one candle glowed.

When he turned, she stood in a puddle of moonlight
so bright he dared not join her for fear of stimulating the stone
hidden in his pocket. He took a seat on the sofa, deep in the
shadows and patted the spot beside him. When she settled her
skirts, he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and
pressing a kiss on her pert little nose.

“What is it you wish to discuss, my dear?” He slid
his hand down until he was able to reach around and cup her breast.
The weight of it in his hand was satisfying and arousing at once.
He was very, very glad Ruby avoided corsets on most days.

“Oooh. You are distracting me, husband, when we have
something serious to discuss.”

“Oh, yes? Would that topic include heading up to bed
with me now?”

“In a few minutes—” She squeaked and batted his hand
away when he gently squeezed her breast. “First I want to know if
you meant what you said about spending less time in the
workshop?”

“If it will ease your mind.” But even as he spoke,
he knew it would not hold true. The lure of magic was calling him
now, second only to the desire to make love to his wife.

“Good.” Ruby stood and took his hand to urge him up
as well. “I know you will be honest with me.” She smiled, her teeth
shining in the dim candlelight. “Shall we retire to our room?”

“Most definitely,” he agreed.

A few hours later he lay beside Ruby on their fine
new feather bed, hearing the creak of the bed ropes as he rolled
onto his side. His body was relaxed and satiated, and he hoped his
wife’s was as well. Their lovemaking had seemed more intense since
they had come home again. Every sensation was magnified and
multiplied as if his faculties were sharper and sense of touch more
receptive.

Stephen pressed his naked body against her bare back
and bottom, wrapped his arms around her stomach, and pulled her
close. She gave a little sigh and snuggled her face into the crook
of his arm. Lifting his head, he looked out of the window beyond
the bed. Clouds were gathering, blocking out the moon.

Tonight he would keep his word to Ruby. Without the
light from Old Man Moon, the
Companion
Spirit
had no
powers to give. It would take time, patience, and plenty of trial
and error, but he would harness the power of the stone. Then The
Illusionist would draw people from all over the country!

Chapter Three

For months he had been working on a new act. The
coin and card tricks were practiced with Calvin and Ruby as his
audience. His young son was particularly fond of coin tricks,
especially if he got to keep the money pulled from behind his ears.
After much trial and error, Stephen fashioned a special retractable
birdcage and table for the third act. He gave the hinge for the new
Omega cabinet another few drops of oil so the door opened and
closed without a sound.

Rag in hand; he polished the wood one last time.
Tomorrow he and Jacob would begin packing up the new set of props
for his first show in Philadelphia since their return from touring.
With the light outside fading as the days grew shorter, Stephen
took a few minutes to light the oil lamp and candles. He tossed the
last few pieces of wood into the pot bellied stove to ward off the
dropping temperatures. To finish reviewing the checklist tonight he
would need more wood to keep the heat going for another hour or
two.

Opening the door, he stepped out into the yard and
glanced toward the main house. Candlelight glowed in the upstairs
windows. Ruby was getting Calvin ready for bed. Stephen smiled into
the darkness as he made his way to the stack of firewood near the
edge of the yard. As soon as the weather turned cold enough he
would teach his son how to ice skate, just as he promised. He and
Ruby were pretty good skaters, and had spent many a winter day
engaged in this pleasant sport. The smell of burning wood from the
fireplace drifted in on a breeze.

Stephen inhaled a lungful of crisp cool air and
pulled his old coat a little tighter before bending to gather up an
armload of wood. The wind picked up, blowing the clouds clear of
the full moon, allowing bright pale yellow light to reflect off the
gold of his wedding ring.

Moonlight! Stephen’s blood surged through his veins
and his heart beat a little faster. Tonight the conditions would be
perfect to experience with the Mayan stone again. He kept his
promise to Ruby and had not stayed late in the workshop for weeks.
The show was booked and everything was ready—except he still didn’t
have a special closing act—the one designed to leave them gasping
with surprise and talking for days. The disembodied Omega head was
good, but it would not compare to a
real
levitation. Perhaps
tonight he could conquer the mystery of the Mayan charm. If he
could harness and control its power, oh the wonders he could
perform!

Eager to get started, he hurried back into the
one-room workshop, stoked the fire, shed his coat, and prepared the
room. He snuffed out all of the candles and turned the wick on the
oil lamp down low, plunging the room into near total darkness.
Winding around mirrors, cabinets, cartons of props, and cages
filled with doves, Stephen made his way to the middle of the room
then stretched up and grasped the window cover lever. He had
arranged the construction of a special window, built into the
slanted roof of the workshop ostensibly to let in daylight, but
actually intended to let in magical moonlight as well.

With a bit of effort, he released the mechanism
securing the panel of wood covering the window. The design should
keep his young son from opening the panel at an inopportune time.
Still holding the handle, Stephen slid the panel into its pocket
just like the doors they had in the house. Silvery moonlight poured
in through the glass panes, creating a bright square on the hard
wood floor.

First, he planned a simple exercise for practice.
Stephen took out three brightly painted wooden balls from a wooden
box. After doing a little juggling with them just for fun, he went
to a table outside the square of light and placed the red, blue,
and yellow balls carefully on the table, making sure they didn’t
roll off.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the center of
the moonlight, flipped open the top button of his shirt, and pulled
out the velvet pouch hanging from a leather thong around his
neck.

“Time to come and play, little
Companion
Spirit
,” he murmured then plunged his fingers inside the
thick bag, wrapped them tightly around the square stone, and drew
it out. Bracing himself for the consequences, Stephen turned his
hand palm up and opened his fingers.

The silvery beam of moonlight coalesced at the
stone. Almost immediately the
Companion
Spirit
glowed. For a few seconds he just watched, amazed again at the
unexplainable reaction to the light. When the brilliance became too
intense, he had to avert his gaze. Warmth grew in the Mayan stone,
but he didn’t drop it. The stone never burned his skin, no matter
how hot it felt. As expected, the tingling sensation grew and
radiated up his arm.

Turning his head, he raised his opposite hand and
pointed his finger at the red ball on the left side of the table. A
concentrated beam of yellow-green light shot from his fingertip and
struck the wooden ball with so much force the ball flew backwards
and hit the wall.
Too strong.

Perspiration broke out all over his body and
trickled down his back. The pain was starting.
Hurry now.
He
pointed at the blue ball. The light hit the ball and rolled the
sphere backwards.

Concentrate.
The ball stopped right on the
edge of the table.

Lift.
Trembling as he struggled to control
the power, Stephen gradually raised his arm. The ball wobbled as it
rose an inch, then two and three until it hovered six inches off
the table.

Pain and heat spread down his torso to his legs. His
muscles quivered and he gasped for breath.

“Enough!”

Slamming his fingers over the ancient stone, Stephen
stumbled out of the moonlight, falling to his knees, panting for
air. He fumbled until he got the black velvet pouch opened and
dropped the
Companion
Spirit
inside.

Still gulping air with the now familiar exhaustion
dragging at his limbs, he crawled to the wooden bench by the stove
and pulled his body onto it. He had left a pillow there for just
this eventuality and lay down, stretching out as best he could to
recover a bit.

I did it! I made the ball levitate!

It had taken months of periodic trials to reach this
minor victory. He had to harness and tolerate the energy channeled
by the stone to present an act to an audience. How much longer he
would need to practice, he had no idea, but the trick would surpass
all others!

“You promised me, Stephen Elliott!”

“W-wha?” Wrenching his eyes open, he gazed blearily
into the angry face of his wife. Her hair hung loose around her
shoulders and her Irish temper was obviously riled as she shook him
by the shoulders.

Grabbing his arm, she gave it a yank and dragged him
off the narrow bench. He hit the floor with a loud thump. Rolling
onto his back, he splayed out both arms and legs and closed his
eyes.

“Go ahead. Do your worst, woman.”

Silence ensued, broken only by angry-sounding
breathing coming from Ruby. Stephen began to drift off to sleep
again.

“Oooh! You stubborn, bull-headed, loveable man!”

Opening his eyes reluctantly, he gazed up at the
fiery woman and grinned. “It will be a good show on Saturday. Maybe
we can get Calvin the Latin tutor he needs.”

She looked a tad less angry after hearing this.
Finally, her face relaxed. Standing next to him she held both hands
out, the long, belled sleeves of her white dressing gown fell over
her slender wrists.

“Come on.”

Stephen took her hands and instead of rising as she
expected, he pulled his wife on top of his chest. He wrapped his
arms around her, kissing her neck as she giggled like a school
girl. Visions of his triumph this night replayed in his head. Real
levitation. He had done it once and knew he could do it again. The
success made him feel wonderful…and amorous. Out here they could
make all the noise they wanted without disturbing their young son.
Rolling Ruby onto her back, he kissed his way into her gown.
Tonight he would make her cry out with pleasure.

* * *

The first performance back in Philadelphia was a
rousing success for The Illusionist. People came from miles around
to see the disembodied Omega talk. His countrymen were less
superstitious than the Mexicans had been, so he didn’t have to
repeat his trip to jail. Instead, the applause had been wonderful
music to his ears. Pleasing folks in foreign countries had been
good, but making people from America happy was even better. A new
and exciting time had come for the Elliotts.

After the last well-wisher left backstage, Stephen,
Ruby, and Michael went back to the little dressing room for a
celebratory glass of wine. They had started the custom while
touring in France, and it turned out to be a great way to relax
after a stressful night.

“Hello, folks.” Jacob waited for them with four
glasses of wine already sitting on the table. The young man had not
objected in the least, nor had the owners of the Walnut Street
Theater, when the Elliotts moved in the furniture from their
previous house. They had even donated their old bed for Jacob’s
third floor flat in the building.

Handing his cape to Ruby, Stephen sank into the
over-stuffed sofa with a sigh. He really preferred this old
furniture to the stylish new pieces, but he would never upset his
wife by saying so.

“It went well tonight,” Michael said, folding his
lanky frame into the wing-back chair. “I must tell you, I was quite
impressed by the act you did with the two chairs.”

Ruby, the little tease, gave Stephen a wink. She had
been the one to suggest the trick.

“Thank you. The credit belongs to my wife. This was
her idea.”