by James Gunn
“Wouldn't have helped if they were,” Uriel said. “In that pile of clothes I think you'll find what in my days was called a bulletproof vest. He always liked to play both sides."
“You gave us such a scare, though,” Ariel said. “We thought Solomon had captured you."
I turned quickly and raced to the bedroom door. “My God yes!” Uriel was still lying there on the bed. I looked back and forth between the two of them. “I don't understand—"
“Solomon wasn't the only magician who could create simulacra. I knew it would be a bad moment for you two, but it couldn't be helped. I let him take this one, and he didn't even wonder why it was so easy. He had a bad habit of underestimating his opposition. But I'd better get rid of this."
He muttered something under his breath. The image disappeared, and the mattress rose where the image had lain.
I sighed. “Now we can forget the whole thing."
“Forget!” Uriel exclaimed. “Dear me, no. The Art is still valid. It must be given to the world."
“But—but—” I spluttered, “that would be like telling everybody how to make atomic bombs in their basements!"
“Concealing it would be like destroying the steam engine,” Uriel said sternly. “Knowledge can never be suppressed, young man. Common understanding is the finest safeguard against misuse. Of course there are some finishing touches that are necessary. Oh, dear me, yes. I must be going. There is so much to be done."
He nodded happily to us and trotted out of the room.
I turned to Ariel. She had slipped back into her torn clothing, which I found almost as fetching as her nakedness. She fumbled behind her back, looking at me over her shoulder.
“Don't worry, Casey,” she said. “He'll be putting finishing touches on his theory for years. Fasten this, will you?"
I fastened it, and it seemed very commonplace and marital, but it sent shivers up and down my arms, and this time it wasn't terror.
“I wonder what my life will be like,” I said, bending down to kiss the soft hollow between her throat and her shoulder, “when I'm married to a witch."
She took a deep breath and leaned her head back against mine. “It's a good thing you said that. Because you haven't any choice. From now on you're going to be a faithful, submissive husband."
“Why?” I asked uneasily.
“Because,” she said, twisting around to press herself against me, “I know your real name."
I sighed and resigned myself to my fate. After all, every man marries a witch, whether he knows it or not, and I would never love her any more than I did at this moment. Even better, I would never love her any less. That's one of the blessings of magic.
But all this was years ago, and I think Uriel is getting restless. He thinks the Art is finally ready, and he wants to reveal it to an unsuspecting world.
So any time now—if you should see a book called something like The Mathematics of Magic or even an obscure article in a mathematical journal, or if you should find yourself madly in love with a girl you've only met, or if you should walk into a hotel and discover a convention of magicians...
Brace yourself! The age of magic has just begun.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1976 by James Gunn
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-2934-9
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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