curtains on the windows were of Spanish lace. There were a number of western bronze sculptures placed

here and there about the room and bookshelves crammed with old, leather-bound volumes. The floor

outside the living room was dark red ceramic tile and the stairs leading to the second floor had log railings

and banisters. It was a graceful and attractive New Mexican home, very traditional, and only the titles of

the volumes in the bookshelves gave any clue that an adept was living here.

curtains on the windows were of Spanish lace. There were a number of western bronze sculptures placed

here and there about the room and bookshelves crammed with old, leather-bound volumes. The floor

outside the living room was dark red ceramic tile and the stairs leading to the second floor had log railings

and banisters. It was a graceful and attractive New Mexican home, very traditional, and only the titles of

the volumes in the bookshelves gave any clue that an adept was living here.

"It's good to see you again, Paul," said Merlin, stepping forward and offering his hand.

Ramirez looked baffled as he stared at Billy. "Merlin?"

"I told you that you wouldn't recognize me," Merlin said with a smile. "But go ahead and use your gift.

This time, I won't toss you halfway across the room, I promise."

Ramirez stared at him for a moment, a slight frown of concentration on his face.

"My God. But . . . I sense someone else, as well!"

"I'd like you to meet my descendant, Billy Slade," said Merlin, and suddenly his facial expression shifted.

The lower lip dropped down at the corner, the eyes took on a somewhat sleepy cast, and the body

language changed completely, displaying a swaggering, cocky attitude.

"'Allo, Professor."

Paul shook Billy's hand. "You're . . . adescendant of Merlin's? But . . . I never knew he had any

children!"

"Neither did 'e," replied Billy with a grin. "It seems that bird 'e 'ad it off with back in ole Arthur's time,

before 'e went to sleep, got 'erself in a family way. Not bad for an old bleeder 'is age, eh? 'E's me

great-great-granddad, twenty-seven times removed or some such thing."

Wyrdrune cleared his throat.

"Oh, sorry. Where's me manners? This 'ere's Wyrdrune. 'E's another former student of ole Merlin's,

'cept 'e never quite finished 'is education. Got 'imself thrown outta school on account of—"

"We don't have to go into that," said Wyrdrune quickly.

"You're the one I spoke with on the phone," said Paul.

"That's right," said Wyrdrune. "I'm sorry about the deception, Professor, but I needed to get past your

secretary."

"It's quite all right. You're wearing a warlock's cassock. Am I to take it that you are not a registered

adept?"