The sun was still low in the sky when a nervous horse wove its way through rush-hour traffic to the double yellow lines in the middle of the street. Its rider was a bit nervous, too, which didn't help the animal's anxiety.

The Holland Tunnel was the best option available to the odd travelers. Neither the ferries nor the George Washington Bridge allowed horses, and this tunnel was closer than the Lincoln one. At this time of day, traffic lights at both ends kept the vehicles in a slow-stop-slow-stop pattern all the way through.

The horse walked between the two lines of metal carriages, trembling at their nearness and the noise that was amplified all around them. The rider kept firm control as he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, yearning for the end of this passage. Several carriage drivers lowered their windows to gape at them or to shout comments and questions. The rider ignored them. He had a destination; he wasn't interested in human curiosity.

One passenger asked the driver of his carpool, "What's that all about, do you think?"

The driver shrugged. "Someone's probably making a movie."

"When are you leaving?" Balthazar asked. Dave had just told him about his plans to go away for Spring Break. "After last night, it might not be a good idea to split us up too soon."

Here it was again, the choice between Becky and Balthazar. Again, Becky won. "We were thinking tomorrow or Sunday." His master just stared until Dave began to fidget. "Well," he conceded "maybe I can ask her to wait until Monday. That's as late as I'm willing to go. We only have one week."

"Thank you," said Balthazar quietly. He knew better than to ask for more. He didn't begrudge his apprentice the time away, despite his own worries about the consequences. He kept those worries to himself.

Dave's auxiliary coil control cage had been moved to the center of the Merlin Circle engraved in the lab floor. Veronica was busy examining one of the giant Tesla coils, but now she addressed the physics major. "Dave, will you teach me about these?" she asked. "I want to know more about this thing you call 'electricity.'"

"There's a lot to teach," he responded. He glanced at his watch. "We have about three-and-a-half hours before I have to leave for class. I hope you're a fast learner."

Veronica had gained control of the energy bolts, directing them when and where she willed, when Balthazar caught a new movement from above. He held up a hand, and the show halted. All three sorcerers stared upward at the walkway, from whence came the unexpected interruption.

A man stood there, leaning on the railing, his dark hair long and shaggy, his clothes tattered and dirty from traveling, wearing a red-stoned ring on his right hand. He was smiling.

The sorcerers below gaped. The tableau dissolved in the next instant with a whoop from Balthazar. He bolted up the stairs to the newcomer, grabbing him and spinning him around in an exuberant embrace. His delight was infectious; the two below caught it despite their bewilderment. Then recognition dawned in Veronica's eyes. She raised her hands to cover a sudden gasp.

The men on the walkway parted enough to see each other's faces clearly. The traveler spoke first. "Balthazar, you're old."

Balthazar was too happy to be insulted. He simply laughed while Veronica looked on in astonishment. Dave, on the other hand, was too confused to know what to think. He called to anyone who'd listen, "Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

Still chuckling, his master gave the new arrival a friendly slap on the back before turning them both to face his apprentice. "Dave," he announced, "I want you to meet the man I've been searching for. This is Master Alvar, my teacher, my friend, and the only one I've ever called my master."

The four gathered on the lab floor by the foot of the steps. Alvar bowed his head to the lady. "You must be Veronica," he surmised. "Pardon my appearance, please; I haven't had the chance to tidy up. From what Balthazar tells me, I haven't exactly been myself for a very long time, and this last week has been spent on the road." He took her hand to kiss it, and she beamed with pleasure. "You're even more lovely now than you were as a girl," he told her. "And you're a brave lady, too. My boy chose well."

She recovered her composure enough to respond. "Alvar," she replied. She finished her greeting with a welcoming embrace of her own. "You're here, and you can speak. What happened? I thought we'd lost you the night of the attack. I'm so glad I was wrong."

Dave was feeling somewhat left out. He cleared his throat. "Um, hello? I don't want to interrupt your family reunion or anything, but would somebody fill me in here? I'm not a mind reader, you know."

Balthazar stood between his master and his apprentice, clapping a hand on each one's shoulder to form a living bridge. "You're not a mind reader yet, Dave," he corrected. "You'll get to that point when you find someone to be your own apprentice. It's a special kind of bond that lets you know he's the one you were meant to find."

"Oh? What rule is that?"

"It's not a rule. It's just my personal theory, based on experience."

"Well, that's a change. Anyway, I'm really confused. No offense, Alvar..." he nodded toward the other sorcerer, "but Balthazar, I thought Merlin was your master."

"He was my teacher, my university professor, if you will. Before that, I was trained by the man who found me when I was just a boy. I was his first and only apprentice. Alvar is my first and only master."

"Okay," Dave allowed. "I guess I can understand that." He tried to think of anyone but Balthazar as his own master, but the very concept was too outlandish to entertain for long. He still had other questions that cried out for answers. To the shaggy newcomer, he directed the next one. "So, Alvar, you lived at the castle, too?"

Instead of replying, however, Alvar looked around at the lab and its sparse accommodations. "Perhaps we should find a place to sit," he said. "This will take a while to explain, and Balthazar is the best one to do that."

Dave sat slack-jawed at the kitchen table that had been brought here from his old apartment. He stared across the table at the eldest of their group. "You were Morgana's apprentice?" he asked again, as if he couldn't believe the answer he'd already been given. He turned slowly to face his master, seated to his left. "So you...?"

Balthazar nodded. "Yes. I was a Morganian."

"Whoa. I think I've fallen down the rabbit hole. So let me get this straight: you were Morganian but now you're Merlinian. Horvath was Merlinian but now he's Morganian. Veronica was always Merlinian. And Alvar...?"

Alvar spoke for himself. "I'm neither. I never wanted to be caught up in the sorcerer war. My part in it was over the day I died, and I have no intention of enlisting again."

On Dave's other side, Veronica frowned. "Alvar, none of us wants to fight, either. We'd all like nothing better than to get this war over with as quickly as possible. We fight because we have to, because we want mankind to be free."

"That's a commendable sentiment, my dear, but I'm afraid it's rather naive." Taking in the blank expressions around him, Alvar explained. "People will always be slaves to something, whether it's their ruling class, another people, or simply their own appetites. The Morganian goal is nothing new. Even if you eliminate every Morganian sorcerer out there, there will always be someone else who wants to rule the world. The freedom of mankind is a hopeless cause."

"Well, that's rather dour," commented Dave.

"Dour but true. At any rate, who's in charge of the two factions? Merlin is dead. Morgana is dead. Why should the foot soldiers keep fighting?"

After a moment of silence, Balthazar offered, "I suppose I'm in charge of the Merlinian side for now. Horvath is heading up the opposition."

"Is Horvath's goal the same as Morgana's?"

Dave shrugged. "Of course it is. He told me all he wanted was power and control. 'Whom you own,' he said." Dave remembered that encounter all too well, when he'd first realized that the enemy really was serious.

Alvar sat back in his chair. "Maybe," he allowed. "You know him better than I do. However, having had firsthand knowledge of the Morganian community, I can tell you that we...I mean, they don't all think alike. Most were satisfied with being in charge of their own little enclaves. They didn't care about taking over the world. That was Morgana's goal, not theirs."

"I think it's Horvath's goal, too," Dave insisted. "Otherwise, why would he have spent all those years trying to free Morgana from the Grimhold? He knew he needed her help to get rid of the Merlinians so his side could take over."

Balthazar had been thinking while his friends debated. He'd had his suspicions concerning his master's question about goals, and the incident from the previous night only made them stronger. He voiced them quietly. "I asked Horvath what he wanted last night. He said it was the same thing he'd always wanted. There's only one thing he's always wanted." The others waited, and he nodded to the one sitting across the table from him. "Veronica."

"He still loves her?" Dave found that incredible; but then again, Balthazar still loved her, too.

"It may not be love anymore," his master replied. "Dark magic corrupts, as you know. It may be that now he just wants to own her. He thinks Veronica belongs to him, and that I've stolen what was rightfully his." He reached across the table and took his beloved's hand. "That's why I don't dare leave you alone while he's still around."

Dave realized something then. "Balthazar, when you said you wanted me to live with you for protection, you meant it, didn't you?"

"Yes, Dave, I meant it. It wasn't just something I made up to make you look good for Becky."

"Becky..." He was abruptly reminded of the day's schedule. He checked his watch and leaped from his chair. "Oh, man, I'm late for class. I've gotta go. I told Becky I'd stay with her at the studio today, too, so I won't be back until this evening. I guess I'll see you all later...where? Are you staying here?"

"Yes, we'll be here," Balthazar answered.

Alvar gave one last warning before Dave reached the exit door. "Watch your step when you go outside. My horse just ate before I came in."

"Hey, Alvar, where's your horse?" Dave demanded as he and his girlfriend descended the steps of the underground lab early that evening. "I wanted to show Becky, but there's nothing out there."

The pair stopped in the middle of the floor, puzzled wonderment on their faces as they gazed at the transformation before their eyes. Dave's temporary sleeping quarters had been vastly improved. "Wow," he commented. "You guys have been busy."

The converted alcove was furnished now with a matched bedroom set in sturdy oak: a single bed against one wall, with a dresser, wardrobe, and foot locker nearby. Along the opposite wall was a desk and chair, also of oak, upon which sat a shielded desktop computer. A companion bookcase stood beside the desk, its top shelf already filled. A steel door with a generous window had been installed in a hastily constructed wooden wall at the alcove's entrance, the whole set just behind wire mesh that stretched from floor to ceiling. Only the door was unshielded, and it was open at the moment.

Alvar was hanging up his new outfits in the wardrobe. He, too, had been vastly improved. Gone was the shaggy mane he'd sported a few hours earlier, in favor of the cut he'd always preferred: short, with a trim black beard and mustache to match. The tatters he'd worn had been replaced by a simple white dress shirt and jeans, below which showed the brown leather of cowboy boots. He finished his task and greeted the young couple with a satisfied smile. "Welcome back, Dave," he said. He bowed his head to the lady. "And you would be Becky, I take it?"

"Yeah. Hi." She waved a hand.

From the kitchen area, the smell of food wafted and set Dave's stomach rumbling. "Dinnertime!" Balthazar announced from his post beside the table. Veronica was already seated, and the other three headed her way. The host continued. "Hope everyone likes pizza. I got three different kinds, so you should be able to find something you like. Drinks are in the fridge."

When everyone had been served, Balthazar sat on the steps leading up to the dining level with his own dinner in hand. Finally, it was time to let his apprentice know what had transpired in his absence.

"To answer your question, Dave, the horse has been given a good home. There are a couple of places in the city that keep horses for carriage rides and such. After we emptied the saddlebags, I impersonated a mounted officer and rode to the closest stable. I left the beast there. He's happy.

'We've had a full afternoon, as you can see. Tomorrow, we plan to update this kitchen and the bathroom, maybe turn another alcove into a living room."

Dave wasn't sure that was such a great idea. He said so. "Um, Balthazar, you know this lab doesn't belong to me, right? My professor is letting me use it for my project, but he never said I could go changing everything around. I have to leave it the same way I found it."

"Oh, don't worry, Dave. Nothing is permanent. When we leave, all the improvements leave with us. Your professor will never know anyone has been living here."

"Okay, but why would anyone want to live here anyway? It's more like a dungeon than a house."

"I like it." The reply came not from Balthazar, but from the man sitting at the table beside Dave. "Besides," Alvar went on, "it's a good strategic move. The Morganians don't know about me. Even if they've somehow found out I'm here, Horvath is the only one who's had experience dealing with me. I don't remember anything after the fight on the road, of course, but I'm told I was practically invincible for the centuries after that. That's what Horvath will remember. With me staying here, you're not likely to walk into an ambush when you come to visit."

"I suppose..."

Becky drew her own conclusion. "So it's okay if Dave and I leave earlier? Now that Alvar is here, Balthazar won't be going out at night anymore, and Veronica will always have someone to stay with her. We don't have to wait until Monday then, right?"

"Right," Balthazar reluctantly agreed. He still wasn't comfortable with Dave going so far away, beyond the reach of immediate help if it was needed. Becky's involvement was as much a liability to the war as it was an asset, since she couldn't defend herself. Balthazar left his concerns unspoken; with luck, they would prove to be groundless.

"Good," she said with a smile. "I have some things to take care of tomorrow morning, but I should be ready after lunch. How's that, Dave? Is tomorrow afternoon all right?"

He nodded. "Sure. It's a date."