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her childish fantasies from him, she also learned to respect the shield itself, for she discovered through Merlin’s absent remarks on the subject that few living souls could hide their thoughts and feelings from a Master wizard. It was a sign of great potential power, and not to be taken lightly.
    But if her shield hid from him the chaotic emotions he evoked in her, it did nothing to help her cope with them. And because of that failing of his—that lacking, that missing something that made him refuse to see her as a woman—she had the added burden of feeling in limbo, suspended in some bewildering emotional purgatory between woman and child.
    So Serena returned to the question once again. How much longer could she go on? The pressure was building inside her; she could feel it. She thought he felt it, too; his occasional business trips out of town had been more frequent with every passing year, and she had to believe the trips had something to do with the increasing tension that lay just under the tranquil surface of their lives.
    If he had not been so often remote, especially in recent months, she might have gathered courage and brought up the subject. But he had been.
    She couldn’t risk it. What she feared most was being sent away, being banished from his life. He was capable of such a merciless act, she thought, given a good enough reason. Though he had never been cruel to her and she had seen no evidence of it, she sensed a streakof ruthlessness in him—perhaps the price he paid for the incredible power he wielded.
    Serena was too familiar with the scope of that power to have any wish to put her fate to the test. She wasn’t that desperate, not yet. But time was running out. The pressure was building, and something had to give.
    Still ignoring the television that was now broadcasting some old movie with melodramatic music, Serena went to one of the windows and stared out. She felt very much alone, and oddly afraid.
    It was raining again.

TWO

    T he blinding flash of pink, purple, and blue sparks was wrong, all wrong, and Serena winced even before the deep voice, coming from a dark corner of the room, could reprimand her.
    “You aren’t
concentrating.”
    “I’m sorry, Master.” The proper humility, apology, and respect were present in her voice, but all were belied by the wry amusement shining in her vivid green eyes. In deference to him she was obedient to the longstanding rules governing the behavior of an Apprentice wizard—but only in this workroom. And only when he was teaching her.
    From the very beginning she had refused to assume any kind of subservient manner, and Merlin had been wise enough not to insist on many of the ancient and decidedly outdated customs between Master and Apprentice.
    “Why
aren’t you concentrating?” He emerged from the shadows where he’d been observing and stepped into the candlelight, showing her the lean, handsome face and brooding dark eyes of her Master wizard.
    “I just have a lot on my mind, I guess. The party last night, for instance,” she explained, gesturing idly withone hand and jumping in surprise when a thread of white-hot energy arced from her index finger to ignite a nearby lampshade.
    Merlin hastily waved a hand, and both watched as water appeared out of thin air to douse the tiny fire. The Master turned to his Apprentice in exasperation, and Serena spoke quickly.
    “I didn’t mean to do it.”
    “That,” Merlin said witheringly, “is the whole point.”
    Gazing in admiration at the dripping lampshade, Serena ignored the point. “Why won’t you teach me to summon water? I can summon fire so easily, it’s only logical that I should learn to put out my mistakes.”
    Ignoring the request, Merlin said, “Stop saying
summon
, as if the elements are lurking about just waiting to be called to heel.”
    Serena blinked. “I thought they were.”
    “I know. But they aren’t.”
    “Then …”
    A brief spasm of frustration crossed Merlin’s face.