Thanks for checking out The Mage Returns. I’ve added a few of the “working” chapters here for you to get a sense of the book.
Welcome Back: It had been a thousand years since he’d seen this lake.
In the far past, the lake had been described in various shades of blue and even light green depending on the account and the person who’d told the tale. Because there were stories of the lake scattered here and there through the various scholarly journals, it couldn’t have been called “undiscovered” but it clearly was undeveloped, with no humans within 10 mile
A Short Drive: Merlin hated freeways with a passion so he took the winding country roads for as long as he could. He loved the 1933 Morgan F4, with its sleek racing shape and traditional green-and-black paint of the British sporting car. It had been the most magical thing
Merlin Finds His Staff The price of his mistake fully paid to the Lady, Merlin needed only his staff to reclaim his full power. Sitting in his favorite chair, holding it and himself motionless, he closed his eyes and repressed the happiness threatening to bubble up to ruin his concentration.
Merlin on the deck of H.M.S. Victory Merlin got out of his car, closed the door carefully and silently and slowly walked towards the entrance to the Portsmouth Dockyard tourist site. The smile on his face was one of celebratory anticipation …
Two of the Tuatha Dé Danan stood silent and immobile Accompanied only by the sharp wind, they stood companionably close, some might notice lover-close, and watched the night sky flash and burn against the horizon from the far south.
Security Sees Him. The Dockyard CCTV camera focused on Victory’s main mast area flashed a red alert-light on the main console in the Security offices. The young man, just back from making tea, watched the monitor speechlessly as Merlin pulled his staff out of the mainmast. He eyes never wavered from the screen and his hand, that should have been slamming an alarm button, never moved.
MI5 Gets Involved. The room was just another government office. Its pale, institutional-green, painted walls contained no windows, but it did have an old metal fan slowly turning back and forth in a vain attempt to freshen the air. The door appeared to have a lock, but the key was lost after the second world war and had never been replaced. The lowest bidder provided the metal furniture and a single black telephone on the battered desk was the most modern thing in the room.
As Ross softly closed his own front door behind him, he heard the mantel clock strike twelve. The click as he turned the safety lock home seemed to echo in the still front hallway. He then eased himself down onto a wooden, straight-back chair on the wall just inside the door. A sigh of relief