Prelude to Magic: The Prequel to Moonlight and Illusions (6 page)

“Y— Oh, look. Mother lost one of her trained
birds.”

Stephen turned toward the stage, but nothing
appeared to be amiss. He frowned. “I don’t see a lost bird. It
appears to me they are all doing just fine.”

The little budgies were lined up on the long perch,
bobbing up and down in time to the tune his wife was playing on her
flute. She was dressed now in a wide-skirted blue gown very unlike
the gown she wore in the mirror trick. Her glorious hair tumbled
freely down her back. Hopefully the audience would not recognize
her as his lost love in the mirror.

The crowd laughed as one little green bird bobbed
out of time and whistled his own tune. “Now, Georgie…” Ruby
scolded.

Cal patted the front of his father’s vest. “I
suppose I was mistaken. You’re all set now.”

“Thanks, son.” He gazed fondly at the boy, no…the
young man in front of him who was grinning affably. Impulsively
Stephen threw his arms around his son’s broad shoulders for a quick
embrace. “I promise to bring you into the act for longer periods
next time, Cal. We’ll work on your tricks next week again.”

The freckled face broke into an even bigger grin.
“I’d like that. Sally knows you pay me well enough, but it is our
hope that I too can hold my own performances so when we marry next
year, I can provide a nice home for us.”

“Of course, Cal—”

Applause reached their ears.

“Time to go, Papa. Make ‘em scratch their
heads.”

With a nod, Stephen turned toward the stage,
watching Ruby carefully place her colorful birds back in the cage.
Opening his arms wide, he stepped back on stage.

“Aren’t Mrs. Elliott’s parakeets wonderful,
folks?”

Ruby curtsied to the crowd, picked up the cage, and
moved toward him. She kissed him on the check quickly whispering,
“Good luck, darling.”

With a big grin, he told her not to worry and took a
deep breath as he walked to center stage. After dazzling them with
sleight of hand coin and card tricks, the time had come for the big
finale.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, for my final act tonight, I
will attempt to defy the laws of gravity and physics in an act my
lovely wife does not like in the least.” Behind him, Ruby shook her
head with obvious disapproval.

In the center of the stage stood a large
cloth-covered object tied to a thick, knurled rope.

Stephen walked over to the free end of the rope and
gave it a hard tug. Nothing happened.

“Here we have a very large, heavy object. This rope,
as you can see, runs over a pulley. What you cannot see above us,”
he tilted his head back and looked up, “is the heavy steel beam
supporting the pulley.”

Reaching over, he grabbed the white sheet and pulled
it off to reveal a black, cast iron blacksmith’s anvil.

“As everyone knows, one of these can weigh as much
as eight hundred pounds or more. This one is, I believe, about that
weight.” Stephen handed the sheet to Ruby. “Can I have three strong
volunteers from the audience come up here, please?”

The audience stirred and five men stood. After a
murmured discussion two resumed their seats and the remaining three
came on stage. They were large, ruddy-complexioned men, dressed
well for the occasion. Two appeared to be young—in their
twenties—but one was closer to Stephen’s age, in his late
forties.

The magician had them introduce themselves and gave
each a turn to tug on the rope. None of the men could move the
anvil alone, although one, particularly beefy man, turned beet red
in the face with the effort.

“Thank you, gentlemen. No need to hurt yourselves.”
Stephen chuckled. “As you can see, this is a very heavy object—one
I will attempt to lift without assistance.”

The small group of musicians struck up a lively
piece of music while he removed his cape and handed it to Ruby. He
did the same with his black frock coat then put a hand on the
velvet pouch hanging inside his shirt. Stephen’s heart skipped a
beat.
The Companion Spirit is gone!

Quickly he schooled his features back into a smile
and continued to remove his vest and shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Ruby whispered, her smile now wooden
and forced.

“The stone is gone,” he responded softly,
unbuttoning the last button and handing her the garments.

“Where?”

“I think Cal has it. Get Michael. Go home and stop
him, Ruby,” he whispered then turned toward the audience.

“Can you—”

“Yes. Go. Quickly.” With a bow to the prince,
Stephen walked over to the waiting men as he saw Ruby hurrying to
where Michael stood leaning against the wall watching the show. The
two of them departed immediately after a brief conversation. He was
left to finish the show and worry.
Everything will be fine. No
good can come of worrying about Calvin right now.

“Gentlemen, will the three of you raise the anvil,
please?” he asked, loud enough for the audience to hear. “As you
can see,” he held out his arms and turned, showing them his
half-naked torso, “I have nothing up my sleeve.”

A small ripple of laughter ran through the
assemblage. He bowed deeply and gave them a big, confident smile.
One pretty woman in a white dress had her hand over her mouth,
looking shocked at his state of undress, but he could see the
amusement and, perhaps, appreciation in her eyes.

“Up a tiny bit more, please,” he directed the men.
They grunted and strained on the ropes. Stephen lay down on the
floor and wiggled until he was directly under the huge iron object,
his hands were open and relaxed at his sides.

“Lower the rope!” He saw the men hesitate apparently
fearing he would be crushed. “Please, gentlemen, let it down. I
assure you, I will be unharmed.”

Closer and closer the flat, black bottom of the
anvil came to his chest. The rope creaked and the crowd became
still. The men were good people and didn’t want to hurt him. The
thought brought another smile to his face.

Concentrate. Don’t think about Cal and the Mayan
charm.

Summoning the power inside was tricky without the
Companion
Spirit
in his hand. After a second or two
of reaching deep, the force began to build deep inside Stephen.

Beams of light emerged from his upturned palms,
directed at the anvil. The anvil stopped its downward descent.
Cries of astonishment came from the three men on stage.

“No one is holding it!” One man said.

This was the most dangerous point of the trick. If
anything broke his concentration now, he would be crushed. “S-step
away, gentlemen,” he commanded tightly.

Their footfalls on the stage told him they had
obliged. The free end of the rope dangled at the edge of his field
of vision. Sweat broke out all over his body as the heat inside him
increased.
Rise.
Stephen lifted his hands. The anvil moved
up a bit at a time then hung suspended in the air with no support.
Perspiration stung his eyes.

Then, almost imperceptively, his body temperature
began decreasing. The power was dissipating.

“Please t-take hold of the ropes again, gentlemen,”
he asked hoarsely. After a moment he added, “Ready?”

“Yessir,” came a deep voice.

“Complete!” In one quick moment the magician rolled
out from under the lethal object and jumped to his feet in time to
watch his volunteers struggle to keep the anvil from crashing to
the floor. They managed to control it only inches from the boards.
It settled down with a loud thump.

After a moment of silence, someone clapped then
another person followed suit until the whole room, including the
prince were applauding.

But this time Stephen had no desire to bask in it.
He had to find out what was happening with his son. Quickly
wrapping up his parting comments, he bowed to the crowd, grabbed
his clothes, and dressed as he made his way to the back door,
almost running headlong into Jacob moving in the opposite
direction. His assistant would oversee the crew packing up the
props.

“Have Michael and Ruby returned?”

“No, Stephen. I haven’t seen them.” Jacob’s brows
drew together. “What’s wrong?”

“No time. I’ll explain later!” Stephen ran out of
the back door. Minutes later he had the single horse carriage
rumbling down the street.

The night was clear and cool. Moonlight filtered
through the trees lining the street in front of his house when he
pulled to a stop. Jumping out, he skirted the house and headed
straight for the workshop. Light in the windows showed someone in
there.

Panic had him by the throat now. He could hardly
breathe. Had Calvin used the stone? Flinging open the door, he let
out a sob at the scene greeting his eyes.

Calvin lay on the floor with his head in his
mother’s lap. The young man’s red hair contrasted starkly with his
white face. Michael stood beside them.

Stephen dropped to his knees next to his son. “Send
for the doctor!”

Ruby lifted her head, tears streaming down her face.
“It’s too late!” she screamed. “He’s gone! It’s your fault,
Stephen. You and your magic killed him.” Bending low over Calvin,
she hugged his body close rocking back and forth, moaning noises
coming from deep inside.

Bewildered, Stephen looked to his brother. “What is
God’s name happened, Michael?”

Grimly his brother related how he and Ruby had
dashed home from the theater. They rushed into the house calling
for Calvin. Upon receiving no answer, they went to the workshop. As
they crossed the lawn a bright flash lit up the windows of the
little building. Inside Cal was immobilized, standing in the
moonlight with the Mayan charm in his palm, just as they had seen
Stephen hold it. The young man’s entire body had glowed with the
same yellow-green light Stephen could channel from his
fingertips.

Michael had shouldered his nephew out of the
moonlight, releasing him from the force. But the power must have
been too great for him to withstand.

“Cal was only able to tell his mother g-goodbye
before he died,” Michael said hoarsely. “His last words were, ‘I’m
sorry, M-mama. Don’t blame Papa. I just wanted to be like
him.’”

“Oh, God!” Stephen sobbed and reached to touch his
son.

Ruby reacted instantly. “Don’t you touch him! You
have no right. My s-son is dead because of you! Get out! I don’t
ever want to see you again!”

Pain stabbed through Stephen’s wounded heart like a
knife. He backed away a few inches. “Please, Ruby. Please! Dear
God. Cal!” Tears poured down his face as he watched his wife
rocking their son’s body as she had rocked him when he was a
baby.

Stephen crawled over to her and reached out a hand.
“Ruby…”

“No!” The loathing on her face was plain to see.
“Get out and don’t come back again. Ever!”

Never in his life had Stephen felt such waves of
sorrow and hurt crash over him. He might be sick.

“Stephen—” Michael started.

He got to his feet.

“—
It’s just the shock.” Michael’s
voice sounded far away.

The
Companion
Spirit
lay on the floor
beside the dusty old apple tree prop. Stephen stumbled over, picked
up the little stone and pocketed it, though he was not sure
why.

Somehow he found the door.

“Don’t go,” Michael said imploringly, “she needs
you.”

He looked back at Ruby to see if this was true. One
last kernel of hope still lingered there in his heart.

“No. I do not. Go!” Her voice was shrill,
hysterical. He accepted her words.

* * *

For hours Stephen walked blindly through the
deserted streets of Philadelphia, not caring where he went. He was
vaguely aware the weather had turned nasty at some point, but the
cold rain just blended with the tears on his face.

He found himself staring out at a black expanse of
water stretching out to his left and right. The Schuylkill River.
Throw the
Companion
Spirit
into the liquid
blackness.
The stone caused this grief. Plunging his hand into
his coat pocket, he pulled it out. The pleasant little face was a
mere shadow in the darkness. Running a finger over the surface, he
could feel the irregularities making up the design.

Calvin was gone.
Why couldn’t he listen when I
told him not to experiment with the powers of the stone?
The
boy’s curiosity had killed him.
Why didn’t it kill me
too?

No answer came. Rain pattered on the leaves of the
trees lining the river bank. Water trickled down Stephen’s neck,
soaking his collar. Somewhere a dog barked, an impatient sort of
noise, set to the river’s music.

The pad of his thumb repeatedly caressed the stone,
the source of real magic powers. Its secrets could be far greater
than mere levitation. Stephen was only beginning to tap its
resources. Suppose it held other powers? What good would it do to
throw the charm into the river now? It wouldn’t bring back his son
or make his wife forgive him. Only God could do those things and
Stephen was fairly certain God would not restore Calvin to life. He
might, however, help with Ruby.

Stephen turned away from the river and walked back
in the direction he had come. The slightest hint of dawn could be
seen in the eastern sky.

Black sorrow still blanketed his soul, but running
away was not the answer. Even if Ruby still rejected him, he would
not abandon her, his home, or his dreams. If he kept walking, he
might make it home before noon.

He put the
Companion
Spirit
back into
its velvet pouch. Cal’s sleight of hand to relieve him of the stone
had been impressive. They would have made an unbeatable team.
Sadly, this would never come to pass now. The idea made his throat
tighten and tears flowed again.

Life took unforeseen turns when you least expected
them, but one could never give up.