Prelude to Magic: The Prequel to Moonlight and Illusions by Diane Wylie Page A

something he had not ever expected to
achieve making furniture.
    The best days of his life happened in the early part
of his career as a magician when Michael, Ruby, and Calvin traveled
with him. It had been exciting, new, and full of promise. Why
hadn’t he appreciated those times when they happened?
    When had Michael’s hair turned so gray?
    Michael had not gone to work that morning. One of
his servants found him still in bed, lifeless. The physician told
them his brother’s heart had given out in his sleep. Stalwart,
uncomplaining Michael…had he suffered at all? Stephen prayed he had
not and, although they never spoke of it, he was glad his bachelor
brother had been a part of his life for so long. He would sorely
miss him and his stuffy ways.
    Lord, he was tired. Swiping at the wetness on his
cheek, Stephen’s glance fell on the sideboard. He had made the
piece of furniture himself, many years before. Without getting up,
he gestured at it. The double doors opened. Pantomiming the motions
with his hands, the glass decanter of whiskey and a tumbler floated
out, held by unseen hands. With a pop, the stopper jerked out of
the bottle and the bottle tipped. Amber liquid gurgled into the
glass, the stopper jumped back in place, and the decanter eased
back into the cabinet. The full glass moved toward his beckoning
fingers.
    “Stephen!”
    His whole body jerked and the glass dropped, almost
hitting the floor before he got it under control.
    Ruby’s long skirts made gentle swishing sounds as
she came into the parlor, her footsteps muted by the thick
carpet.
    “Husband,” her voice was soft now, “what if someone
saw you performing magic off stage?”
    “No one is here…except Michael…and he doesn’t care.”
He grabbed the hovering glass and took several noisy gulps, sighing
as the liquid burned a fiery trail down to his stomach.
    She sat beside him on the sofa, putting a hand on
his knee. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. It came as no
surprise she had been crying as well. The relationship between
Michael and Ruby had been a close one. Sometimes Stephen felt his
brother understood his wife better than he did. Since Cal’s death
the two had banded together on many occasions to overrule Stephen.
Many a conversation between those two had resulted in the salvation
of Stephen’s marriage. He did not begrudge their friendship on any
level…to the contrary, he was grateful for it.
    “You know you will need to replenish your, uh,
reserves so much the sooner, if you use magic unnecessarily.
Michael would care about that.” With a sigh, she put one arm around
his shoulders for a hug. “I hate when you have to get in the
moonlight. It frightens me.”
    Stephen shrugged and drained his glass. Ruby’s fears
were not unfounded. Each time he slid back the panel and offered up
the Mayan stone to the moonlight could be his last moments on
earth. But she didn’t understand how the risk was part of the
attraction. The thrill of standing naked in a pool of nighttime
brilliance while unseen energy surged through his body made him
feel powerful, special, and invincible.
    Setting the glass on the side table, Stephen
gathered her into his arms. Her bones seemed fragile and her body
frail to his touch. “I know you don’t like it, sweetheart, but the
process is important. The show must go on. My public expects
exciting tricks. How can I just use mirrors and sleight of hand any
more?”
    “Why don’t you stop working, Stephen?” She glanced
over at the coffin. You’re fifty-five now. Can you not give fewer
performances at least? We don’t need the money, we have
plenty.”
    He looked at her and was surprised to notice the
tiny wrinkles around her sad blue eyes and the strands of gray in
her dark hair. This made his heart even heavier. Death had a way of
making one confront one’s own mortality. The small annoyance at her
suggestion for retirement faded, at least for the moment. She only
said this because she cared for him.