The Fire Rose em-1 Read online

  And it will save me endless effort in hiding it all from her. It is worth the risk. "And if I told you that the reason was because all work in this house, on these grounds, is accomplished by what you would refer to as Magick?" he asked, just as flatly.

  She flinched, and did not answer him directly. "I must be mad," she said under her breath. "I cannot be hearing this-or discussing these things. It is not reasonable." She was shivering, though she tried not to show it.

  She's afraid. She's afraid that it might be true, yet at the same time she wants it to be true. If I told her it was because my servants were all working only while she slept, she might believe me ...

  "You could make her believe you," hissed a voice in his ear. "You could make up almost anything and make her believe you."

  He did not have to turn; it was one of his Salamanders, and by the voice and assertiveness, the cleverest one. "I know," he told it, covering the speaking-tube, with one hand. "I could have you cloud her mind again. She has drunk so much wine it would be child's play to make her believe me."

  "But you do not want to do that," the creature said shrewdly. "You want her to believe, because if she believes, she can help you."

  Now how does it know that? The Salamander surprised him more every time it spoke. "If she believes, I will no longer need to waste time and effort concealing your presence from her-and I will not need to depend so much on du Mond for assistance, for she could do some things for me that do not require either experience or her actual presence. "That would be very good," the Salamander said with emphasis. "Show her, Firemaster. Give her facts. Give her the evidence of her own senses. She is practical, and where she might doubt a mere explanation, she will not doubt what she can see and test for herself."

  Show her? Well-why not. She is so annoyingly logical, that just might be the correct approach to take with her "Go collect her supper-dishes," he told the Salamander. "But leave the sweet, and bring coffee. I want the effect of the wine countered. She may need both energy and alertness before the night is out."

  The Salamander spun with joy and uttered a breathy laugh. "Yes!" it said. "Warn her I am coming! Let her test me!"

  "I will," he told it. "Now you be certain of your path and move slowly, so that she doesn't miss anything."

  "I must be mad," Rose muttered again.

  "You are not mad, Miss Hawkins," came the hollow, grating voice from the speaking-tube. "Believe me, you are not mad. And if you will not believe me, then believe the evidence of your own eyes and watch your supper-table."

  The last words were still hanging in the air as she turned again to stare at the table-and at the flickering shape of flame suddenly hovering above it.

  A conjurer's trick, she thought, with disgust-but then the flame took more definite shape, the general aspect of a lizard, which blinked fiery blue eyes at her, and began to spin in place. Then her supper dishes rose gracefully on their tray, levitating above the tabletop. The dish containing the sweet separated from the rest and wafted gently down to rest on the tablecloth and a minute later, a spoon floated down to lie beside it. She hesitantly touched the latter; it was noticeably warm.

  The tray remained above the table.

  "Test it, Rose," the voice urged. "Use your own senses to tell you whether or not this is fakery. Make every test on it that you care to."

  With exquisite care, she waved her hand beneath it, and encountered no resistance, no hidden supports. She reached out further and waved her hand to either side, and finally rose to her feet to circle the table. She tested the air all about the floating tray, and then waved her hand above it. There was nothing, nothing whatsoever. She circled the table again, looking for any means by which the tray could be moved, and still found nothing. The tray was perfectly ordinary, except for the fact that it was floating in midair, about a foot above the table-top.

  No supports, no strings, no wires. And she thought she heard a giggle of delight from the spinning shape, which continued to hover about a foot above the tray. She had even passed her hand repeatedly between the creature and the tray to make certain it was not somehow attached to the tray, and had encountered nothing.

  She sat down again, her eyes wide, biting her lip. The tray and the creature of flame sailed towards the door, which opened obligingly for them, then closed again. But Cameron wasn't done yet, for a moment later, the door opened again, and a coffee service sailed serenely in, below the floating flame, setting itself down on the table. She stared at it. I am seeing this, but I still do not believe it. There must be a way to explain floating trays logically! Surely he's tricking me.

  "I thought perhaps after all that wine you might like something to clear your head," Cameron said, with a touch of amusement. "Then you can be certain that you are not being tricked."

  The coffee-pot lifted into the air and poured a precise and delicate cup. The cream-pitcher followed, and her usual two lumps dropped neatly into the cup, which lifted, saucer and all, and moved towards her. She put out her hand without thinking, and it settled down on her palm like a pet bird. Finally the creature above the table stopped spinning.

  She drank the coffee in silence, glancing obliquely at the little form of flame still hovering in the air, looking down at her. Finally, she put the cup down and addressed it directly.

  "What are you?" she asked it.

  The voice, which came from everywhere, was thin, sibilant, and silvery. "Salamander," it said to her, and blinked benignly.

  She knew the precise meaning of the word in the mystical sense, which had nothing to do with the amphibians in the garden. The Salamander was a creature commonly referred to in the medieval manuscripts she had studied back in Chicago, as well as the more modern book by Dee. She said it aloud. "Salamander-the Elemental of Fire-""Very good. I see your memory is still working." That was Cameron.

  "As Sylphs are of Air, Undines of Water, and Gnomes of Earth-" she continued. Did he control all of these creatures? "What about them? Can you-do you-"

  He anticipated the question before she formed it. "I am a Firemaster, Rose. Only the Salamanders are my servants. The Sylphs and Gnomes might aid me if they felt like doing so or their Master demanded it of them, the Undines would flee me or try to destroy me if their Master willed it. Water is my opposite; Air and Earth my allies. Every sign is the ally of those next to it, and the enemy of the one opposite."

  She remembered that now from the book. Earth and Air were the opposites, and Fire and Water. She recalled the sequence now. Earth supported Fire, Air fed it. Water nurtured Earth, and gave Air substance. Air was transmuted by Fire and Water. Earth received life from Air and Water ...

  But according to Dee's book, a human could only aspire to be a Master of the Element of his own Magickal Nature, and only those few humans who had learned and mastered their Natures could become Masters of Elements and Elementals. It took years, decades, to become the Master of even one Element, but the resulting power-

  "But if you are a Firemaster, why are you confined here-" she stopped herself with a gasp, her hand going to her lips as she flushed. How could she ask such an impertinent question? But he didn't seem to think it impertinent. "I am confined here in my home, as I am, for precisely the reason I told you when you first arrived. An accident, brought upon by hubris. I attempted a Magick for which my Nature was ill-suited. I am as-disfigured-as I told you I was, but in a far different manner than you had been led to believe." The voice was calm, but under the calm was a welter of emotions. "I dismissed my servants, all but Paul du Mond who is aware of my Magickal ability, and have lived here as a recluse since it happened. I dare not permit anyone to see me as I now am. My Salamanders attend to most of my needs, Paul attends to those things which require an intermediary with the outside world."

  "And all of this around me-the books, the reading is this to help you find a way to restore yourself?" There was a logic to this madness that was irresistible, It was all beginning to fall into place in a tight pattern, one she could not easily re
fute. If one simply assumed that magic power was real ... "I take it that Mr. du Mond is no student of languages?"

  "Paul is no student of anything," came the dry retort. "He is competent in modern French, English, and Latin, but as you have seen, most of my books are in other tongues, many of them obscure. I am unable by reason of my deformity to read them for myself. Hence ... the ruse that brought you here."

  She closed her eyes for a moment and digested that, then opened them again and poured herself another cup of coffee. If I had been the meek little bookworm I suspect he wanted, whet then? Would I have been kept mind-clouded and in the dark while I prattled his translations away for him? "And if I had told you I would not stay here in the first place?"

  A dry chuckle, one with a touch of cruelty. "For myself, there were other candidates besides you. As for you-there are many ways for a penniless woman to make a living in San Francisco, but I do not believe that most of them would have appealed to you."

  She felt anger penetrate her bewilderment at that bald statement. "You used me, used my circumstances to put me into a position where I had no choice!"

  "I never claimed to be a gentleman, Miss Hawkins," he countered, his voice even and in fact, indifferent. "I am a businessman. You should be aware what that means by now. It is my nature to use people, and I have no responsibility to those people to guide their steps then, or later. It is up to them to make what they can of the situation, to make it mutually beneficial. You are hardly stupid. Can you say honestly that you are not benefiting by being here?"

  He has me there. Wages, fine food, beautiful lodgings, lovely clothing-I am certainly worlds better off here. Even if I am at the mercy of a madman. Or a magician. If they're not the same thing. "No," she admitted. "I am much better off than I would have been back in Chicago. But I do not like being used!"

  "Then do something about it," he replied, flatly. "Decide to stay or go, decide to be used or decide to use me to get what you want. It is your choice, Miss Hawkins."

  She didn't have to decide; she knew already. "I'm staying, of course!" she snapped-and perhaps the wine was to blame for her runaway tongue and temper. "Do you think I am so foolish as to abandon luxurious surroundings and congenial work just because my employer is suffering from the delusion that he is a feudal overlord with wizardly powers?"

  That made him laugh, as she flushed again. "It is not a delusion, my dear Miss Hawkins! I am a feudal overlord with wizardly powers. The powers you have seen for yourself, and as for the feudalism, why do you think we are referred to as 'rail barons'? But I am glad that your good sense overcomes any fear you might have, knowing your employer is also dabbling in Magick."

  It was her turn to laugh, for once again he had turned the tables on her. But she still had an arrow in her quiver to sting him with. "I am not afraid of your magic; I haven't seen anything but a convenient replacement for gossiping servants. If you were all that powerful, Mr. Cameron, you would not have needed a railway train to bring me here. For that matter, you would not have needed me. Flying dinner trays are all very well, but you obviously are dependent on normal people for a great deal, or you would not need Paul du Mond, either."

  Silence for a moment made her fear she had said too much, and angered him. He could send her away and find someone more tractable.

  "She is right, Jason," the Salamander said merrily, making her turn her head so suddenly to look at it that she nearly overset her coffee-cup. "I know she's right, damn it!" Cameron growled. The Salamander laughed.

  Rose smiled triumphantly. "Can I take it then, that this is about to become less a relationship of overlord and serf, and enter a stage of cooperation? Or-at least let it be an arrangement of lord and knight!"

  "Only if you are willing to abide by some rules," Cameron countered swiftly. "If you wish to be my knight, you must obey my decrees, true? I did not show you all this only to have you flout my authority in Magick. I am the authority there. If I am occasionally terse with you, it is because I do not have the time or the leisure to be otherwise. If I give you a direct order, I expect it to be obeyed."

  She nodded, primly. "Of course. You are still my employer, and these are deep waters. I may have the rudder, but you are both the navigator and the captain."

  "Very well." He sounded calmer, more satisfied. "I shall accelerate your Magickal education, and I shall not trouble to hide the activities of my servants from you. In fact, I shall assign one to you to tend to your needs, the same one that has been cleaning and picking up after you. Simply speak what you want aloud if you have any request, and it will tend to the task."

  As unnerving as the floating fire-lizards were, she actually was relieved. At least now she could see the presence in her rooms. And now she knew it wasn't du Mond. That was reassuring all by itself.

  Is there a grudging admiration in his voice? At least he won't be tempted to take me for granted now.

  "I will still be attending to the matters of my business during ordinary office hours, so you will still have your afternoons free," Cameron continued. "However, I must ask you not to discuss any of this with du Mond. I believe that Paul may be jealous of you, and this would only confirm that jealousy. He wishes more from me than he deserves-or than I intend to give him."

  Interesting. What is he to du Mond, or du Mond to him? Master and Apprentice? Or prisoner and keeper? On the other hand, she would really rather not discuss anything with Paul du Mond if she could help it.

  This entire situation had an air of such unreality that it should have been a dream. That must have been why she felt bold enough to say incredible things.

  I will wake up in the morning, and this will never have happened. This is all a dream; I fell asleep over that book by Dee, and I am dreaming all this.

  "I would just as soon see as little of Mr. du Mond as possible," she said slowly. "If it is all the same to you."

  "That will suit me perfectly," came the reply, which only made her wonder. Was there something that du Mond might tell her that Cameron did not want her to know? But what could it be? Were there still more secrets to be revealed?

  "So, I take it that our schedule is still the same?" she said, vaguely aware that she should say something. It was trivial, but at least it was something. "Exactly the same," Cameron told her, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice, as if now he had decided that he had accomplished something that he was very pleased with. "The only difference will be that now I will not have to wait for you to be conveniently absent or asleep to send my servants about. And now that you have recalled the schedule, may I assume that you are prepared to resume that schedule?"

  "I am not so frail that I am in need of a bottle of smelling salts after all this," she said sharply. She pinched herself sharply. She did not wake up.

  All right. This is no dream. And I am reasonably certain neither of us is insane. Well, I'm sure I'm not. This is not medieval moonshine; it is only a new kind of science. Surely, if I had never seen an electric light before, I would find it just as magical as the Salamander "Send me your book, sir, and I shall resume my duties this very instant!"

  He laughed; he was very pleased with himself. He sounded just like one of her father's cronies who had soundly trounced another in debate. "You may relax and enjoy your sweet, Miss Hawkins," he said indulgently, as one would to a child. "The events of tonight prevented my selecting your books, and it will take a moment before they appear."

  The Salamander giggled again, and vanished soundlessly. Rosalind Hawkins was alone again in her sitting-room, torn between fuming with anger and shaking with emotions she couldn't quite define. Surely Lewis Carroll's Alice had never found herself in quite so strange a situation!

  Certainly she had never encountered a male creature quite so infuriating!

  Caught between conflicting emotions, she finally did what any sensible person would do.

  She ate her dessert, and sat back to wait for the books to appear.

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN
<
br />   So now we embark on the real undertaking. Cameron sent his Salamander down to Rose Hawkins with the night's set of books, and sat back in his chair. My hands are shaking. When was the last time that happened? He regarded the his trembling hands with bemusement. He had negotiated deals that could have broken his fortune if they had gone wrong, he had faced dreadful ordeals in the course of attaining his Mastery, he had endured trials of his strength and nerve that few other men could have survived, and none of that had left him feeling like this. He had been tempted to tell the girl that the evening's duties were canceled, but if she could sit there calmly and insist on carrying them out, he was not about to admit to weakness.

  I feel as if I have run for miles, as if I have faced a ravenous tiger with nothing but my bare hands and my will, and convinced it to go eat something else.

  The Salamander-which seemed very pleased with the evening's events-opened her door and brought the pile of books inside. She concentrated every bit of her attention on it, exactly as a bird of prey would concentrate on a rodent, as if she was still trying to spot some evidence of trickery. But when the books were on the table beside the speaking-tube, and the Salamander had transported itself to its customary position at his elbow, she stood up and walked slowly over to her accustomed seat.