Page 33 of Knight of the Sword

“You aren’t interrupting anything,” Michael answered. “It seems that Morgan knows Alan Caldwell, and I was wondering how they met.” He looked back at Morgan, waiting for an answer.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She flounced over to Sophie’s desk, straightening some paperwork. “I went to Mr. Smith’s a few months ago looking for Sara, and Alan was there. We met a couple of times for drinks. Why?”

“It seems that Caldwell knew I was a warlock. Did you tell him?”

Morgan cast her eyes at Sophie and then back to Michael. “I might have.”

“You know we don’t make that information public, Morgan. Too many people get the wrong idea or want magical help.”

“Alan didn’t seem to care that I was a witch,” Morgan replied and glanced at Sophie again. “Is that what your little misunderstanding was about?”

Sophie glared at Michael. “I didn’t realize I was a subject for public discussion. Perhaps you should leave.”

“Not until you’ve heard me out, Sophie.” He turned to Morgan. “Close the door on your way out.”

She pouted and then tossed her head. “Just remember what I said.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Sophie said as she sat down stiffly behind her desk. “However, if you think I’m still going to go hunting some mythical Sword with you, forget it. Use your magic to find it.”

“I would, if that were all that is necessary,” Michael said mildly and pulled a straight-back chair close to the side of Sophie’s desk, “but Pendragon’s appearance tells me you are needed to come with me.”

Sophie studied him. “Dragons don’t exist. I came to the conclusion last night that he is an illusion. You somehow sent it so that I’d buy this whole story.”

“He’s real, Sophie. You’ve seen the scorch marks on your grass.”

“You could have put those there too,” she said stubbornly.

“But I didn’t.” Michael leaned closer and she caught that unique woodsy scent of him. “I don’t know what I can do to convince you, but I did not send you that dream.”

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Well, I certainly didn’t enter your mind.”

“No. Tanio did it.”

“Oh, yeah. The fire-god guy. I’ll admit, you are really good with illusions. You almost had me convinced all this stuff was real.”

“It is all real. Why do you think the media has camped out all this time?”

Sophie stared into space. “Maybe it’s some kind of group hallucination. Stage magicians do it all the time.”

A shadow crossed Michael’s face. “Sleight-of-hand and hypnotic suggestions are not magic.” He sighed. “My guess is that Tanio tapped into my head—without my permission, but gods never think they need it—and decided to show you an extra benefit that could be had.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “I’ll admit it was my fantasy, and I suppose I should apologize for fantasizing about you, but I swear, I don’t make any moves unless they’re welcomed. I’ve told you that before.”

She turned back to look at him. “You admit you fantasize about me and yet you expect me to travel with you? Spend nights in hotel rooms next to each other?”

He smiled, showing his dimple. “I guess you mean in separate rooms next to each other?”

Sophie felt her face heat at the implication of what she had said. God, how Freudian could she get? “Definitely separate rooms—that is, if I were going with you, which I’m not. Dragons and fire gods? Not to mention horned demons. You almost had me believing it, but then I remembered how fanatical Mr. Smith is when he’s onto something. He’s a real medieval aficionado and he’s wealthy enough to indulge himself. So my guess is that when his assistant came back from London with that manuscript, he decided to sponsor an expensive scavenger hunt. He’s told me over and over that I need a little adventure in my life. How much did he pay you to arrange all this?”

Michael’s eyes darkened. “He didn’t. I give you my word that Excalibur exists and that a demon who wants to control and maybe destroy the world is hunting for the same Sword. We have to find it before he does.” He stood and walked to the door and then turned. “I’m going to have a little talk with Tanio. When I come back, you’ll have your proof.”

Sophie sat mutely at her desk after he was gone. It was all so confusing. Nothing made sense, and she had always been ruled by logic. One possibility was that she truly was having a nervous breakdown, but everything else in her life seemed rational and real. The clinic functioned. Clients trusted her with their pets. Augustin still gave her his special nuzzle…

Or maybe Mr. Smith, who loved to meddle, really was playing a hoax. But what Michael had said about the media hovering for days niggled at her. They couldn’t all be fooled, could they?

She shut her eyes, not wanting to think of the other option.

Maybe demons, dragons, faeries and warlocks existed and she had been too oblivious to see. Maybe there was some grandiose scheme in the universe to have good battle evil. Certainly the unrest in the Middle East had been raging for years now. Suicidal terrorists had created fear in the hearts of sane people. Drug cartels murdered people for no reason. World-wide economies were crashing… Maybe some evil force really was behind it all.

Maybe Michael was right about everything. How could she know for certain?