sweet as the Victor Herbert songs, she went off to enjoy Babes in Toyland, feeling as happy and carefree as a child. Tomorrow would bring the end of her holiday, but for tonight, she would play the role of the lady of leisure to the hilt.
CHAPTER
TEN
Cameron's claws dug into the wooden arms of his chair. Paul du Mond had no notion just how close he was to infuriating his employer. Once again he had come to Jason Cameron's study to make yet another importunate demand for further Magickal education.
No. That is not true. He does not want education, he wants the power without having to learn control, discipline, or method. He wants to be given power, as a child is given a toy.
Cameron held his temper in check and attempted to feign an air of complete nonchalance. 'I know that this is a disappointment to you, but frankly, du Mond, until you master those specific techniques there is nothing more I can teach you.' He hoped what expression was possible to his face was bland and calm. 'I've told you that before.'
But Paul du Mond frowned, and persisted in another vein. 'Are you quite certain you won't be needing my help in your own work?' he asked. 'Perhaps if I assist you, I will be able to overcome my own difficulties. And after all, that is the first duty of an Apprentice, to assist his Master. 'And the Apprentice hopes to steal the easy path to power by observing the Master. Little does he know that there is no easy path to power, Magickal or otherwise.
'It may be the first duty of an Apprentice, but I'm not doing any work of my own now,' Cameron lied glibly. 'How could I, looking like this? All I am doing is research, and you yourself are perfectly well aware that what you require is practice, not research. Now, your best option is to get that practice, and you can do so on your own.' He carefully loosed his grip on the arms of the chair. 'When you are not practicing, you do have needful duties. Why don't you just concentrate on catching up with your secretarial work for this afternoon? Perhaps you could go into Pacifica for dinner later; I know you tire of the fare here. You could have the Salamanders hitch up the light carriage for you.'
Du Mond's frown deepened. 'I would be the first one to admit that I have a great deal of correspondence to reply to, Jason. But if I leave the estate to eat, what will you do?'
'Bolt down a bloody chop, as usual,' Cameron replied testily. 'You forget that this form has needs that are not acceptable to polite society, needs that even you find distasteful. I shall be perfectly all right. I managed to survive your absence for an entire week, didn't I?'
Reluctantly, Paul du Mond nodded and finally left the study, looking backwards over his shoulder as if expecting Cameron to change his mind and call him back.
And for what? Cameron thought with irritation. He's useful only as a secretary now. Rose is of more use as an assistant in Magick, and she has never set foot in my Work Room! Somehow du Mond must have guessed that his Master was still attempting the reversal of his condition without the assistance of his Apprentice-perhaps he had even guessed that Cameron was going to make another attempt this afternoon. The stars were right, the spell itself called for daylight-perhaps to counter the lunar effect associated with lycanthropy-and Rose would not be back until nightfall. If he could just get du Mond out of the way, he would not need to fear interference from any quarter!
But du Mond would not go away until it was too late to start the ritual, and the auspicious time trickled away, inexorably, until there was no hope of making the attempt. Cameron's temper simmered and boiled, until he flung himself out of his chair and began to pace the room like a caged beast.
He finally turned to his mirror, as he had so many times in the past three days, and called up the image of Rose Hawkins, hoping that it would calm him. He had watched over her jealously during a her excursion to the city: had taken vicarious pleasure in her pleasure. He had laughed, truly and freely, for the first time in many long days, at her childlike joy in the bookstore. He had reveled in the sights of China-town even as she walked through the crowded, colorful streets, seeing everything with a new interest as she discovered the places and people for herself.
He had been an invisible presence in the private box at the opera, and although the performance had not been an outstanding one, he had taken more enjoyment in it than if the singers had been gathered from the finest Houses in Europe. She had been so thrilled simply to be there that the music had an added savor for him. And as for the production of Victor Herbert, well, he had never once thought he would find such a childish, sugary musical even remotely entertaining-but she did, and her pleasure was infectious.
The only time he had not been able to watch her had been when she visited Master Pao. The old reprobate had magicks ensuring his privacy that his simpler spell could not pass. He wondered, though, why she had gone to a Chinese apothecary; some female complaint, perhaps? In this, she was better off going to the Chinese rather than resort to patent-medicines. At least Snyder had the sense to take her to Pao rather than letting her find her own
