The Wizard Tales Vol I-III by Red Tash

Author:Red Tash
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, wizard, Demons, zombies, historical
Publisher: Flying Birdbath Books
Published: 2013-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

Merlin III wheezed into a handkerchief, the glamour his son had cast holding tight despite the hellacious handiwork beneath. Was this the work of Temptation, then?

Of course it was. But what had tempted Merlin III? Surely not the casino's riches. Wizards have little need for such things.

I hadn't time to think of it, as Delilah and her bridegroom swirled across the floor, some sort of “electric boogie” keeping its own time. A grinning Merlin IV shuffled awkwardly to the beat, his beard the only part of his body actually keeping time.

As the party-goers took to the floor, I spotted Lucian easily, snarfing down a piece of cake. His shirt flashed in various patterns of light, a transcendent fashion statement in a sea of boring old people. As it flashed in time with the booming bass, I beckoned to him. He sat his paper plate of cake atop a smallish stack of similar plates and discarded plastic forks. From the looks of it he was on his fourth piece.

He met me in the middle of the dance floor. “Yes?”

I wanted to dance with him. I wanted to tell him of that other wedding, that other time. I wanted to vow to him that I would not make the same mistakes. Some spell struck me mute.

“Did you need something, teacher?” Around us the music boomed and tweeted, and the Sunny Acres staff were beginning to abandon their staunch orderly & nursing duties to give into the magical thrall of the disco beats. It was a hot Florida night, after all, and the fleeting blooms of love must be gathered while they are in season. Such is the nature of joy—it does not keep.

A nursing assistant in powder-blue scrubs grabbed Lucian by the shoulders and whirled him around. “Great shirt, man! Fantastic!” She shimmied before him, then grabbed his hand and pulled him to the end of a conga line being led by the bride and groom, followed by wedding guests and the facility's doctor on call.

“Never mind, boy,” I said, though he was already gone. “Go and dance. You won't be young forever.”

I stole away with a piece of the wedding cake, slipping out the emergency exit to take some air. I would need to return Lucian to his bedroom soon, but as far as first meetings went, all-in-all I judged this one to have gone well enough.

Forking a tender bite of the cake to my lips, I inhaled the aromas of butter and cinnamon. The cake was delicious, although the baker must have used too much salt. Why else would the morsel have tasted like tears?

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