Daddy Warlock (15 page)

She emerged onto the street feeling giddy. “Thank you,” she told Chance as he guided her back to the car. “That was very generous.”

“Pure selfishness,” he assured her. “I'm the one who
gets the pleasure of looking at you. Now we'd better hurry. We just have time to pick up Harry.”

Usually Rajeev handled that responsibility. “Why? Are we going somewhere?”

“Well, it
is
Friday.” Chance unlocked the car and held the door for her. “And we have been invited to a special event.”

Today seemed to be Chance's day for surprises. Tara doubted he could top their visit to Fleur's, but she was willing to play along.

C
HANCE KNEW
he was driving the sports car a shade too fast on the way to pick up Harry, but he needed to take the edge off. He'd been stretched thin ever since he saw Tara in those sensuous clothes.

The impulse to buy her a fabulous outfit had seemed innocuous at the time. But the air between them had been charged from the moment they entered the salon.

This past week had turned into a mixture of joy and agony. Being close to Tara and yet unable to touch her had left Chance with energy so tightly bottled, he feared he might explode.

At least he'd had the distraction of helping Harry explore his gifts. Practicing mind control to prevent squirrels from running into the street had amused them both, and saved at least one creature's life.

It was too bad there existed no aptitude test for wizardry. Chance suspected his son would score off the top of the chart. Fortunately the boy had been raised with a strong sense of values.

Now, in front of the school, Harry waited beside a thin boy wearing glasses, whom Chance recognized as his friend, Al. They were grinning and joking with other children.

Harry's eyes brightened at the sight of the sports car, and he ran over. Tara barely had a chance to lean her seat forward as he scrambled pell-mell into the back.

“Can we go by the video store and see if there are any new games?” he demanded. “Can we stop at the bookstore and see if they have the new
Goosebumps?”

“I've got a better idea,” said Chance. “How about going to a carnival?”

“A carnival?” Tara asked.

“My old school is a few miles away,” he explained. “It's a private school, and this is the annual fund-raiser. It occurred to me we could swing by there and maybe catch a ride on the Ferris wheel.”

“It occurred to you?” said the car. Since undergoing a tune-up and oil change the previous week, it had quit nagging, but now it apparently felt free to inject its whiny voice into the conversation. “Excuse me, but didn't you program the directions into my map two days ago?”

“I wish Al and Sammi could hear this!” Harry leaned over the seat back. “I bet they've never been in a talking car!”

“And with luck they never will be, either.” Chance switched off the computer's voice. “The reason I wanted to drop by is that my great-aunt Cynda has volunteered to staff the fortune-telling booth. I thought it would be fun to see her in action. Besides, she's dying to meet Harry.”

“The fortune-telling booth? I thought she didn't have much success at seeing the future,” Tara observed.

“She doesn't. That's what makes her perfect for a school fair,” Chance pointed out. “She can tell people what they want to hear, and they'll go away happy.”

“But it isn't honest,” said Harry.

“Everybody knows fortune-telling isn't real.” Tara
stopped with her mouth ajar. “I mean—things like that
usually
aren't real. And even Chance can't foresee the future, can you?”

“Thank goodness, no.”

“I think it would be neat!” cried Harry.

Both his parents reacted at the same time.

“You haven't—” began Tara.

“Don't tell me you've started to—” said Chance.

They exchanged glances. “You can't see the future, can you?” Tara finished for them both.

“Me?” said their son. “I wish I knew what was going to be on the math test next week! But I don't”

The school, tucked away on a quiet street, looked much as Chance recalled it. Stucco buildings dating to the 1920s sprawled across a tree-shaded campus, which, this afternoon, had turned into a riot of color and motion.

In addition to the Ferris wheel, he spotted a roller coaster and half a dozen other high-speed rides, along with a carousel and a small railroad that wound its way about the grounds.

Booths sold food and souvenirs, while one tented section was set aside for games. Shooting galleries and ring tosses never seemed to lose their appeal, even in the age of computers.

As Harry led the way, skipping onto the grounds, Chance wondered if he should consider transferring his son here. Not only Chance, but his cousin Lois and several other relatives had attended West Oak Academy.

He decided a decision could wait, perhaps until junior high. After all, the boy had made friends and begun putting down roots at his current location.

It would be useless to try to temper Harry's high spirits until they'd sampled a few rides, so for the next hour the
three of them flew, bounced, zoomed and shrieked their way around the grounds.

Finally, after downing pizza and com on the cob, they headed toward the booth area. Signs advertised an astrologer, a palm reader and Madame Lucynda and her crystal ball.

“Does she really have a crystal ball?” demanded Harry.

“Well, yes.” Tara had worn a faintly amused expression since they arrived. To Chance's surprise, she hadn't even objected to riding on the roller coaster. “At least, it's a ball, and it appears to be made of glass, so I suppose it qualifies.”

“How does it work?” the boy pressed.

“That all depends on Cynda,” Chance said.

“It's a way to help her focus?” In their practice sessions, his son had quickly grasped the usefulness of specific exercises and objects as an aid to concentration. “I get it.”

A teenage couple emerged from the blue-and-graystriped tent as they approached. “She's terrific!” the boy said. “She told us we were meant for each other!” The kids walked off beaming, arm in arm.

Chance felt a twinge of envy for such uncomplicated happiness. But then, he had nothing to complain about, he reflected as he slipped one arm around his son's shoulders and, taking Tara's elbow, guided her inside.

Red light from a scarlet-shaded lamp gave a cheesy air of mystery to the interior, where the crystal ball sat atop a paisley-covered card table. Behind it perched Aunt Cynda, forming an exotic picture with her sharp black eyes, long Gypsy dress and oversize turban.

“Wow!” said Harry.

“Impressive,” murmured Chance.

“Oh, bosh,”said his great-aunt. “I look like a refugee from Halloween. Lois found this getup at a costume shop. You'd think a woman who works for a special-effects company could do better than this, wouldn't you?”

“It's a pleasure to see you again,” said Tara.

“And you, too, of course.” The woman fixed her gaze on Harry. “This little urchin would be your son, I take it? Fine young fellow. I think I'll take him back to my cottage in the woods and fatten him up, shall I?”

“That's from
Hansel and Gretel!”
Harry didn't look in the least intimidated. “That's make-believe! Can't you do anything real?”

“I'm sure Aunt Cynda tells very good fortunes,” reproved his mother.

“Did you buy tickets?” asked the lady, adjusting her turban. “It's for a good cause, you know. The library needs new computers. I remember when children read books, don't you? Now it's all CD-ROM and bits and bytes and the Internet”.

“I like to read,” said Harry. “But I like the Internet, too.”

“That's the gift of youth,” said his great-great-aunt. “To put complex truths in a nutshell. Well, boy? Step up and let us see what the future holds.”

Tara peeled a ticket from her roll and handed it over. As Harry plopped into a chair and stared at the crystal ball, Chance noticed Tara stiffening.

He wasn't aware of letting down the guard between them, but he sensed her thoughts. What if tragedy lay ahead? What if they learned something they didn't want to know?

Aunt Cynda had never seen anything accurate yet, but it didn't seem polite to say so in front of her. Besides,
she
had
figured out their past lives as Valdemar and Ardath.

Maybe that was why Chance, too, felt a tremor of apprehension as his great-aunt began to speak.

“You like baseball”, said the fortune-teller.

As Harry nodded, Tara nearly laughed at her own misgivings. It was a safe bet that any six-going-on-sevenyear-old boy would fit that statement.

“And squirrels”, Cynda added.

Tara's amusement evaporated. She remembered her son chattering about keeping a squirrel from running in front of a truck, and wondered if anyone had mentioned the incident to Cynda.

“An important event will occur soon”. The older woman frowned into the glass, which had turned from clear to milky. Tara wondered what had made it do that.

“My birthday!” said Harry. “It's in July”.

“No. Sooner.” Cynda tapped the ball. “It's on the fritz again, darn it. Ah, there we go. I see people dancing. Do you like to dance?”

“No, but Rajeev and Vareena do,” said the boy.

Behind them, Tara heard someone slip into the tent Glancing back, she glimpsed a short young woman with glossy dark hair, chic pearl earrings and a suit trimmed in braid. Before she could ask what Lois was doing here, Tara noticed a name tag that said Organizing Committee Chairwoman.

“Rajeev and Vareena?”

“They've got this dance competition the same night as Chance's company dinner,” Harry said. “You really saw them?”

“More or less,” murmured Cynda.

“Who's going to win?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” The older woman peered at him dubiously.

“Are Rajeev and Vareena going to win the trophy?” Harry persisted.

Cynda's forehead puckered. “I don't see any trophy. Just smoke.”

“Maybe you've got a short circuit”. Releasing Tara's arm, Chance looked around for a plug.

“It's not electrical.” The fortune-teller drew herself up. “It's merely tired from a long day's work. And so am I.”

“I came to suggest you take a break,” explained Lois. “You've been here three hours, and we're open until eleven. You ought to take a walk and eat some dinner, Gram.”

Standing, the fortune-teller yawned and stretched. As she came around the table, Tara could see trouser cuffs peeping from beneath the black robe.

“If you don't mind, I'll take my little nephew with me so we can get to know each other. You young people can reminisce about your favorite teachers and that one everybody hated—what was his name? The economics teacher.” Without waiting for an answer, Cynda took Harry's hand and out they walked, discussing what to purchase for dessert.

Tara wasn't used to letting her son wander off with other people, but, she reminded herself, Aunt Cynda was
a relative. So was Lois, she mused as she greeted the younger woman.

The three of them strolled out of the tent together. “How's the carnival going?” Tara asked.

“Even better than we expected!” Lois waved to a passing couple. “We've set a goal of raising ten thousand dollars, but I think we'll surpass that. And of course we'll be open tomorrow, as well.”

“This must have been a lot of work,” Chance said. “I'm surprised you found the time.”

“Oh, I've always wanted to give something back to my school.” Lois sounded sincere, and Tara realized it was unfair to assume the young woman was always calculating her own advantage. She might work for Raymond and even admire him, but that didn't make her his clone. “Please tell Denise I've had lots of compliments on my hair. That lotion really works!”

“She'll be glad to hear it.”

They reached the midway, which was growing more crowded by the minute. Over the music of the carousel, Chance asked, “How's Dad's acquisition going, of the software gaming company? Everything under control?”

“‘Under control'?” repeated Lois. “Now, there's a phrase Ray would appreciate! Every time we meet with their board, they bring up a new demand. We're setting up a session to see if we can iron out our differences.”

“Good luck,” Chance said, and nearly collided with Cynda and Harry, who were consuming huge snow cones.

“Gram! That's not a very healthy dinner,” Lois scolded.

“It's my appetizer,” said Cynda, deadpan.

Harry grinned, displaying a face smeared with snowcone
coloring. In the shifting lights, it might have been either red or green.

Lois smiled. “You two make a charming pair. A couple of scamps!”

The five of them joined company as Lois made sure her grandmother followed the snow cone with a sandwich. Banter flew, and Harry and his older cousin seemed to hit it off.

“Maybe she's finally developing a maternal instinct,”. Cynda observed after her granddaughter excused herself to see to her duties. “Let's hope she eases up on her ambitions. Not that I'm a keep-'em-in-the-kitchen type, but there's more to life than making money.”

Tara agreed. She'd enjoyed tonight's merriment and the comforting sense of being with family. She knew Harry had, too.

As for Chance, he was smiling as he guided them toward the car. Maybe, she thought, they'd finally hit on a comfortable balance that they could maintain, working and playing together without the risk of deeper involvement.

If she ached to put her arms around him, and if sensuous memories of their Halloween encounter still tormented her sometimes, that was an issue she could learn to deal with.

B
Y THE NIGHT
of the annual dinner, Chance felt more like an orchestra conductor than a businessman. Although he had paid scrupulous attention to his clients' affairs these past weeks, he had also spent long hours making sure every part of tonight's presentation would hit the right note and rise to a crescendo of goodwill.

Thank goodness for the assistance of his staff, and for Tara, who proved invaluable when the work threatened
to overload him. Hundreds of details had been arranged, surprises planned and a multimedia presentation honed to pulse-pounding entertainment.

In a way, the heavy work schedule had proved a blessing. It enabled him to keep his attraction to Tara pushed to the back of his mind.

Chance's only regret was that he hadn't spent enough time with Harry. Now that school had ended for the summer, the boy was chafing to use his magic, and a few hours a week failed to satisfy him. Once tonight was past, Chance vowed as he adjusted his cummerbund in front of the mirror, he would make time every day for his son.

“Excuse me,” said the house. “Isn't anyone eating at home tonight? The fridge is full of leftovers”.

Chance was so startled, he nearly dropped the slim wallet he was tucking into one pocket “Did somebody call you or are you speaking on your own these days?”

“It's my duty to point out that some of the food is likely to spoil,” sniffed the computer from an all-butinvisible speaker in the wall. “Really, couldn't you address me as something other than ‘you'? I know I haven't yet chosen a name, but it seems demeaning.”

Chance had more important things to do this evening than pacify his house, but he couldn't resist. “Abode?” he suggested. “Dwelling unit? Maybe I could call you by our address.”

“Too impersonal,” said the house.

“I'll give it some thought,” said Chance. “Later.”

After one more check in the mirror, he strode from the room. Behind him, the lights turned themselves off with a sigh.

Rajeev and Vareena had left for the competition an hour ago with Harry in tow. Chance had gotten so used
to them twirling around that the courtyard lay strangely empty without them.

A smog-enhanced sunset filled the sky with a rosy glow. Chance hesitated in midstride, forming an image of that long-ago Halloween when he'd stood in the tower, peering down at the costumed guests.

That night, he'd been trying to figure out what direction to take with his life. He'd realized he couldn't stay with his father's firm and follow Raymond's wishes, but he'd been apprehensive about striking out on his own.

His mood had been far from festive. Noting that the revelers below were mostly casual acquaintances attracted by his flyers, he'd nearly decided not to bother making an appearance.

He hadn't so much glimpsed Tara's presence as sensed it. Struggling to reconstruct the experience, Chance decided it had been like catching a whiff of fragrance. He closed his eyes, wanting to retain these memories to treasure later, no matter what might come.

Now that the intense work of the past weeks was finished, he doubted he and Tara could continue as they were. The undercurrent between them grew more powerful every day. Yet he hadn't forgotten Aunt Cynda's warning about their union awakening danger.

For once, the Magician had no tricks, the Warlock no spells, the Wizard no wisdom that could protect them. Fate had woven an unseen tapestry, and Chance was as caught up in it as Valdemar had been in his long-ago quest to free his true love from a tyrant.

I just wish I knew who the enemy was. I hope it isn't some part of myself.

“Oh, you're out here!” Tara emerged from the far wing of the house. The rainbow hues of her suit blended
into the sunset-tinged light, making her appear almost translucent. “We're going to have to hurry.”

They'd planned to arrive well in advance, but a glance at his watch showed Chance he would barely beat his guests to the scene. “Let's go, then”, he said, and offered his arm.

H
ARRY KNEW A COUPLE
of the other kids; he'd met them while watching Rajeev and Vareena's dance classes. They were sitting on the floor in front of the folding chairs.

He plopped down between an African-American girl with long braids, and a boy whose frizzy blond hair made him look as if he'd stuck his finger in a light socket.

“My mom and dad made the semifinals,” said the little girl, whose name was Marika. “How about yours?”

There'd been a preliminary competition the previous weekend at the dance school. Rajeev had told him something about it, although Harry hadn't paid much attention. “Yeah, they're competing tonight, too.”

“Standard or Latin?” asked the little boy. Harry thought his name was Dag or Tag.

He didn't know, so he said, “Both.” The other kids looked impressed.

From what Vareena had told him in the car, Harry gathered that this wasn't exactly the Olympics of ballroom dancing. It was more like a high school game between a couple of schools.

But the row of shining trophies sitting on a table at the end of the ballroom looked big-time to him. And grownups were filling the chairs around the dance floor, their voices abuzz with excitement.

The room was as big as a school gym, with banners stuck on the walls and clusters of balloons floating near
the ceiling. Harry wondered whether the kids got to take the balloons home afterward.

He shifted, trying to get comfortable. The floor was made of wood instead of linoleum or tile. Probably that was because the Green Friars Country Club used to be a private mansion. From the outside, it resembled the Haunted House at Disneyland.

Harry hoped he could talk Chance into coming here with him sometime to explore. A big old house like this ought to have secret rooms and maybe even a treasure.

Static rumbled over the sound system, followed by a man's voice. “One, two, three, testing.”

He saw the man and a woman, both in fancy clothes, standing at a microphone behind the trophy table. “Welcome to the second annual Kick Up Your Heels competition for beginning and intermediate dancers!” said the man.

“We want to build enthusiasm in the students from both our schools, and prepare them for competitions to come!” added the woman.

“The main point is to have fun!” said the man, and began talking about the semifinals and then the finals that would be held that evening.

When he finished, music blared and a bunch of dancers came galloping into the room. The guys had on tight pants and glittery jackets; the women wore floaty dresses with flounces and spangles, and one had pink feathers. Harry figured they must have been plucked from parrots, because what other kind of birds were that color?

The women were spinning and jumping, and the men stamped their feet the way Rajeev did when he was pretending to be a matador. Some of the ladies got tossed into the air and one rode around upside down on her partner's shoulders.

Harry got a not-so-happy feeling. Rajeev and Vareena were clapping and making little twirls, but some of these other people didn't look like beginners to him. They were really good.

For the first time, it occurred to him that his friends might not win. It didn't seem fair, not when they'd practiced so hard.

Maybe they needed a little help.

S
ET TO ROCK MUSIC
and animated via computer, the year's investment highlights made a great show. While images danced on an array of screens and Chance's voice boomed over the music, the guests finished dessert and applauded lustily.

It was after eight o'clock and the dinner had gone perfectly. Everyone raved about the food—”Shrimp and salmon! Thank goodness it's not chicken like every other banquet!—and the decor proved equally popular, with sections of the room decorated to suggest the gondolas of hot-air balloons.

Generally, Chance didn't believe in superstitions. But things were going a little
too
well.

As he acknowledged the applause, he wondered how Harry was getting along at the dance competition. The boy had enjoyed watching Rajeev's classes, but this might prove a long evening. He was glad he and Tara would be arriving later.

Tara. It took Chance's full concentration not to keep staring at her. The flowing suit with its delicate shadings brought out her innate grace. Tonight she was so radiant, he suspected she could light up the room all by herself.

But with the applause fading, he needed to collect his thoughts and resume his duties as master of ceremonies. “Now we've got a diversion for you folks,” he said into
the microphone. “In keeping with our theme of Up, Up and Away, and my reputation as a wizard of Wall Street, we've got a pair of uniquely talented entertainers. They're jugglers, they're magicians, they're comedians. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Lee and Lew!”