when the final campaign begins. He's at their side. Why am I hiding up here?'
'Drama, Arthur!' said Percy. He sipped his seltzer. 'The people expect it. They want it. They need to look forward to your appearance if the evening's going to build to any sort of climax for them. That's your one problem, Arthur.' He finished his seltzer and poured another glass.
'No sense of drama.'
Ronnie suddenly said, 'Arthur. First returns are in. Only one percent of the vote in-----'
Arthur looked at Ronnie, hunched in front of the set, and turned away. He stared at the drink in his hands. 'Have they predicted a winner?'
'No. Not yet. Too early.'
Arthur sensed the unspoken but hanging in the air, and voiced it. 'But...?'
'But at the moment-only at the moment, mind you-'
'Out with it, Ronnie.'
'Bittberg'sinthelead.'
It's going to be close,' said Morgan. 'Make no mistake, little queen. It will be close. But Arthur shall lose.'
Gwen's eyes never left Morgan. The sorceress had not moved from the spot where Gwen had first seen her. But Lance, dressed like something out of the Road Warrior, was already starting to creep in her direction. 'You're wrong, Morgan. You're going to lose. Everything.'
'My, oh my.' Morgan looked down her nose at Gwen. 'The little queen has become quite the bold one. I haven't forgiven you, you know, for that attack in the park.' Her fingers drifted to her cheek.
'I figured you wouldn't. I banked on that being my eventual ticket here.' Her gaze and the point of her knife momentarily flicked in the direction of Lance, who froze. 'Don't try it, Lance.
I swear Til kill you.'
'Why, Gwen,' said Morgan. 'You're positively a woman warrior, aren't you?'
'Not a wimp?' Gwen replied. 'You don't understand, do you, Morgan. All my life I felt like a nothing. Like everyone always stepped on me. Then along came Arthur, and he made me feel like someone. And now I've lost him. Lost him thanks to you. Without Arthur I don't care what happens to mt. I don't care if I live or die. And when you stop caring, it means you can become reckless. That, and I've been using my brains a bit. I've watched what happens. I'm figuring out the limits of your power.'
'Are you now?'
Lance was creeping up on Gwen's right. Taking small, careful steps, Gwen sidled to her left, keeping a large table between herself and Lance. Still she continued to watch Morgan, Morgan the unmoving. 'Yes. For example, I've figured out that when you are attacked mystically, you defend and counterattack mystically. But when you're attacked physically, the only way to ward it off is by physical means. That's why they burned witches, isn't it?'
'Hanging was also popular,' said Morgan dryly.
'That's why that demon could take Merlin with his bare hands. That is why I could take you in the park. And that is why,' and her voice rose suddenly, 'I'm going to take you now!'
She drew her hand back, the skull-shaped dagger in her hand now held by the point, and she hurled the dagger straight at Morgan's chest. The dagger flew unerringly and plunged deep into Morgan's breast, piercing her evil heart and putting an end to her forever.
At least that's what Gwen had hoped would happen.
Actually she missed by a country mile. The dagger, weighted completely improperly for throwing, spun erratically in its flight and hit the wall behind Morgan a good three feet to her right. It thudded to the ground, way out of Gwen's reach.
'Uh-oh,' muttered Gwen.
Morgan raised her hand. 'Oh, little queen,' she said, 'you who are not afraid to die. Who are reckless. I'm going to show you that there are worse things than death. Now ...'
Back at the Roosevelt Hotel Arthur was watching the set intensely now. A mask of gloom had spread over his face. 'I don't understand,' he murmured. 'Don't they know what's best for them? Look at that.'
At that moment, with two percent of the voting in, Bittberg was at forty-six percent and Arthur was at forty- two percent with Archibald Goodwin and all the others left far behind. The newscasters were already intimating that Bernard Bittberg was the new mayor of New York City.
The phone rang. Arthur leaned over and picked it up while the others in the suite looked on.
'Yes?' said Arthur.
'Bernie Bittberg here, Art!' said Bittberg on the other end. Audible over the phone were noisemakers, party music, and the like. Bittberg was shouting to be heard. 'Ready to concede yet?'
'Concede?'
'Yeah. You know, quit. There's no need to be a sore loser, Art.'
'I wouldn't know,' said Arthur evenly. 'I don't make a habit of losing.'
He dropped the phone back into the cradle.
But he was not happy. Not happy at all.
It happened with incredible swiftness.
Gwen pivoted and leaped in the direction of Lance Benson.
Lance, thinking she was trying to escape, shouted, 'Don't worry, Morgan! I got her!' And so saying, he grabbed for Gwen. He got a grip on her shoulders and made as if to hold her in place. It looked to all intents and purposes that he had a really solid grasp on her.
Morgan's hands were glowing. The power of the spell was already in existence, and once called into the world, the power had to be unleashed lest it backlash against the wielder.
Morgan passed her hands through the air, the gestures shaping the nature of the spelt, and the power was aimed right at Gwen.
At the last second Gwen suddenly twisted away from Lance, breaking his grip easily, fear pumping adrenaline through her body. She dropped to the ground, shielding her eyes.
Lance only had the chance to open his mouth and start to frame a question before he was bathed in the light of the spell. There was a sudden sound, like a vacuum being sucked into a bottle instead of being allowed out. One instant Lance was there, the next he wasn't.
Actually, that was not quite true. There was a large, gray rodent skittering around on the floor, squeaking angrily.
Morgan looked down in dismay. She said, 'Rats.'
Her smoldering eyes turned to Gwen, and without saying another word, she gestured and a blast of eldritch energy blew from her hand. Gwen leaped out of the way, sure-footed in her black tennis sneakers. She felt the air sizzle around her, and looked around. Where the energy bolt had missed her, several large pillows and a good chunk of the floor were gone.
Her heart pounding like a trip-hammer, Gwen moved quickly in Merlin's direction, praying that somehow the trapped magician would be able to aid her. She reached the crystal column and clung to it like a life preserver, looking defiantly at Morgan.
'You think he can help you?' said Morgan disdainfully. 'Don't kid yourself, my queenlette.
But let's fine tune the spell, just for you, to make sure I don't accidentally release the little bastard.'
She pointed and a single beam of lambent energy shot forth. Gwen threw her back against the crystal column, and the energy beam passed within a hair's breadth of her breasts.
'You can't win!' crowed Morgan.
'Get stuffed!' Gwen screamed back. She circled behind Merlin's prison, keeping the crystal column between the two of them. She felt terrible about putting Merlin in the middle of all this, yet what choice did she have? But she couldn't keep it up all day___
Her hand trailed over the small bulge in her hip pocket, and she remembered what the demon had said. It was worth a try, because she sure as hell couldn't keep dodging all night.
Morgan advanced on her slowly. 'Come out, little queen. I promise you it will be painless....'
'Everyone is so concerned about my welfare,' muttered Gwen.
Compact firmly in hand, Gwen suddenly leaped out from behind Merlin. Morgan shouted her triumph and let fly a bolt of energy.
