The Osiris Ritual by George Mann

low trol ey on which he had earlier wheeled it across the stage, and he spun it around for the audience, offering them a view of the casket from all sides. Newbury frowned. It was not at all clear what had happened to the woman. There were no obvious trapdoors in the base of the box, and if she had dropped out through a smal hatch in the bottom she would have been easy to spot. The only explanation was that she was stil inside the box, but Newbury found that hard to believe. The swords had certainly looked real enough, and he couldn’t see how Alfonso could have missed her when he inserted the blades, no matter how much precision he had used when cutting the guide holes prior to the event.
    “Impressive, isn’t it?” Newbury turned to see Veronica leaning in towards him, a smile on the curl of her lips.
    “Most definitely. I’ll admit I was growing a little impatient with the performance until this most recent development. I haven’t a notion of how he has effected the woman’s escape from the box.
    It’s really quite intriguing.”
    Veronica laughed. “Perhaps there will be chance to ask him after the performance has finished.
    If we’re not taking him into custody, that is.”
    Newbury nodded. “Quite so.” He paused. “Look, he’s about to get her out again.”
    They both turned back to see Alfonso removing the swords with abandon, sliding them out of the box and dropping them noisily to the stage. It took him only a moment before al of the blades had been extricated. He hesitated before the box. Then, with one last, grand gesture, he swept the lid from the top of the casket and stepped back, allowing the final scenes of his act to play out before him. There was a gentle cough from within the box, and then the woman sat up, looking around at the audience, her eyes wild with disorientation. There was a roar from the gathered crowd. The front rows stood, their applause deafening. Newbury smiled as he watched Alfonso enjoying the adoration of his fans. The man was definitely growing on him.
    Alfonso returned the stool to its place beside the box and helped the young woman to step down, seeing her back to her seat in the second row. The female stagehand came out onto the stage and began col ecting up the swords, sliding them back into their housings in the wooden rack. When she had finished, Alfonso, smiling and nodding his appreciation to the audience, made his way back to where he’d left the open casket on the stage. He replaced the lid and then pushed it off to one side, allowing it to roll away on its castors. He turned to the crowd. “One more?” They roared again, loudly. Alfonso waved them to quieten down. “I shall warn you, though. This is no trifling feat of illusion.” His voice dropped to a staged whisper. “This time I offer you the chance to glimpse some real magic.” There was another cheer. Alfonso approached the very front of the stage. He threw his arms wide. “Then I find myself in need of another volunteer.”
    This time hands shot up al across the theatre. Newbury turned to Veronica, and was appal ed to see she was also offering herself up as a volunteer, her hand raised high above her head. “Miss Hobbes! I feel strongly that this is not the safest course of action to pursue. We came to this place expecting to find a villain.”
    Veronica turned to meet his gaze, but kept her hand raised in an effort to be seen from the stage. “And that is exactly what I intend to do, Sir Maurice. We need to get close enough to see how his illusions work.” Her whisper was strained. She clearly didn’t want to be pressed further.
    Nevertheless, Newbury felt he had no choice.
    “Real y, Miss Hobbes. I must insist that you lower your hand. I cannot sit by and al ow you to put yourself forward for such a dangerous enterprise, especially given the fact that you yourself are investigating this very man in connection with a series of missing women. I would be foolish to allow it. I quite understand