The Illusionist - 3rd Edition Read online

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  The Illusionist

  The Illusionist Series

  Book I

  By

  Fran Heckrotte

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  Copyright © 2006 by Fran Heckrotte

  All rights reserved.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-934889-41-1

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-934889-58-9

  Audio eBook ISBN: 978-0-9800846-9-6

  Third Edition

  Second Edition eBook only: December 2007

  Third Edition Published: July 2009

  Print: July 2009

  eBook: January 2010

  This electronic book is ePublished by

  L-Book ePublisher, LLC

  La Quinta, Ca. USA

  Email: info@ L-Book.com

  Web Site: http://L-Book.com

  Cover Design by Sheri

  [email protected]

  Note: This third edition has no major changes or additions to the story. Story has been revised for continuity purposes.

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  This work is copyrighted and is licensed only for use by the original purchaser and can be copied to the original purchaser's electronic device and its memory card for their personal use. Modifying or making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, without limit email, CD, DVD, memory cards, file transfer, paper print out or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to my friends, Remy, Scamper, Tess, Blaize, and Laurie, who are also my beta readers. They took their time to read the story, share their thoughts, and encourage me to have the story published.

  And finally, to Howie, who hasn't a clue as to why I'm thanking him but is sure to ask once he finds out his name was mentioned.

  Dedication

  My special thanks and gratitude go to my favorite French-Canadian and writing consultant, A.L., for encouraging me to put my fantasies in writing; for the hours, days, and weeks she sacrificed helping me brainstorm different ideas and creating the storyline and character development. Her assistance in translating English into French, proofreading the manuscript for the obvious errors, and critiquing the inconsistencies was invaluable, saving me time and my sanity. Most of all, she listened to my ramblings and made me believe she really enjoyed the finished product. Although she continually minimizes her role in assisting me, without her assistance, her ideas, and her encouragement, this novel would not exist.

  The Illusionist

  CHAPTER 1

  SOFT GRAY SWIRLS of mist drifted across the stage like the fog from an old Boris Karloff movie. A chill spread through the restless crowd as it waited impatiently for the show to begin. The appearance of a shadowy figure moving toward them brought an eerie silence to the makeshift amphitheater.

  Tall with dark flowing hair, the costumed figure walked slowly out of the mist and into the light. Blue leather slacks, a white satin blouse unbuttoned at the collar, and a silver sequined vest emphasized the lithe figure of the mysterious woman. The face framed with short bangs and long black hair was partially hidden behind a matching silver and blue leather mask. High cheekbones, full red lips, and a chiseled jaw provided tantalizing hints of the woman's beauty and strength. The lips, which were faintly turned up at the corners, smiled warmly at the audience before opening to display even white teeth—with two exceptions. Slightly elongated, her canine teeth emphasized the almost animalistic aura surrounding the Illusionist.

  Pale, icy blue eyes peered intently through narrow slits and stared coolly at the audience. The silence continued. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes slowly scanning the crowd. Every seat was filled, and a few people were leaning against the walls at the back of the large room.

  Motioning for an attendant, she leaned down and whispered something in the young woman's ear. Immediately, the attendant scurried off, signaling for two ushers to follow her. Within minutes, several people arrived carrying fold-up chairs. Once everyone was seated, the Illusionist nodded her thanks and focused her attention on the audience. Raising both arms in the air, she spoke softly into the collar microphone.

  "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

  Her voice was like the husky whisper of a seductress, beckoning to each listener, drawing the audience unconsciously forward in their seats, ears craving to hear the next word. A faint accent caressed each syllable with an exoticness of uncertain origin.

  "Thank you for coming to the performance this evening. I am Yemaya. I hope everyone here will find tonight's show interesting and memorable. Most of you probably do not know about my namesake. Yemaya is the West African creation goddess. She is believed to be the goddess of the moon, the oceans. Her colors are blue and silver. I have chosen to make them my own for this particular event for obvious reasons."

  The Illusionist strolled across the length of the stage, twirling a couple of times to display the beautifully tailored silver and blue outfit.

  "Tonight's show honors the goddess and her creations. My crew and I plan on giving you an evening you will not forget for a long time. If, however, anyone is dissatisfied, please tell the young woman at the admission booth, and she will take your name and address. Your admission fee will be returned without question. Now my attendant has given me a signal there will be a slight delay, so before we start the show, there are a few facts I think you should know about this place. Thank you, Suzanne."

  Pivoting slightly, she motioned for two assistants to open the curtains behind her, revealing an enormous sea aquarium with a nine-foot-by-twenty-foot picture window.

  "First, I would like to thank the city of Charleston and especially the staff at this beautiful ocean display for providing the facilities for my performance. It took a lot of hard work to convert this area into a mini-theater. We have placed cameras at the deep view window, which is made of a special acrylic glass. My technicians have installed large display screens in each corner of the room so everyone will have unobstructed views of the entire aquarium and of me. After all, what would the show be without a hostess?" She laughed softly. "Okay, Suzanne says I can start earning that five hundred dollar admission fee you just paid. One last thing. The resident sea life here has been moved to another location for the evening. You will understand why shortly. Now I direct your attention to that far corner of the aquarium."

  All eyes followed the direction she was pointing. Slowly, a semi-transparent door slid sideways, exposing a dark chamber.

  "Behold, Shezara, the main reason no cameras have been allowed in here. Any flash could agitate her, and she is not an animal we want agitated. Beautiful, is she not?" Yemaya exclaimed, sweeping her right arm toward the chamber. When nothing happened, the crowd groaned, some sitting back in their seats. Laughing, she turned back to the audience.

  "Well, it seems Shezara is bashful tonight. Perhaps we can entice her out." Motioning to an assistant, Yemaya backed to the right side of the stage, allowing the young woman dressed in gray access to the steps leading to the top edge of the glass. In her hands was a large platter, covered by a dark red cloth. Climbing to the platform at the top of the steps, the assistant uncovered the platter, revealing an enormous chunk of meat and proceeded to dump it into the crystalline waters.

  "Let us see if Shezara is hungry," the Illusio
nist said and chuckled. "Shezara, dinner time!" Yemaya called, turning toward the window to tap on the thick transparent barrier separating her and the enormous fish.

  Again the crowd leaned forward in anticipation, only to jerk back in their seats. From the depths of the darkened chamber, almost faster than the eye could follow, an enormous shark surged toward the meat. Mouth open, thousands of razor sharp teeth glistening under the lights, the creature scooped up the meat, swallowed, then turned her enormous length away from the glass, missing it by a mere three feet. Cruising back to the far side, she swam lazily up and down the length of the glass searching for more food.

  "Ah, Shezara, I sense your need. This will be your last performance and then you are going home, my friend," Yemaya whispered, her hand gently caressing the glass before walking back to center stage. She let her eyes wander over the audience, assuring herself she had everyone's complete attention. Noticing a young woman in the fifth row, her gaze lingered for a few moments.

  So I see you have returned, she thought, her icy blue eyes gleaming brightly. Perhaps tonight you will have your answers, perhaps not. We will see.

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  Dakota Devereaux pulled out her pad and pencil, scribbling down the evening's events. Whether from the excitement or plain bad luck, the tip of the pencil snapped, poking a small hole in the page. Cursing, she dug in her small handbag for something else she could write with. Dakota sighed with relief when she found a ballpoint pen at the bottom. It was critical she not miss anything. Later she would compare what she witnessed that evening with the other five shows. Halfway through the first word, the ink pen began skipping.

  "Damn! Damn! Damn!" she muttered, unaware others had turned to look at her. Placing the tip of the pen between her lips, she sucked hard, trying to get the ink to flow. With her lips puckered around the tip, cheeks sunken in, she felt the silence surrounding her.

  She looked up to find several people staring at her in amusement. Quickly, she looked toward the stage, only to lock gazes with the pale blue eyes behind the mask. Dark green eyes widened momentarily from shock and embarrassment and something else — something she couldn't quite describe. Dakota quickly pulled the pen from her mouth, neutralized her expression, and glanced down at her notepad, muttering under her breath.

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  With a slight smirk, Yemaya turned her attention back to the audience who had been caught up in the silent exchange between the two women.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, again, I would like to introduce you to Shezara, an eleven-foot great white shark, the only one of this size in captivity. She belongs to the largest species of fish on the planet. I am sure everyone is aware of the damage great whites can do. Shezara may appear huge but she is considered an average-size female. I would hate to meet a large one," the Illusionist joked. "Now before I begin my illusion, does anyone have any questions? I will try to answer them, but I warn you — my personal life is personal, and I will not reveal secrets of the trade."

  "That doesn't leave much, now does it?" an older gentleman in the audience grumbled.

  "That would depend," she mocked softly. "Now who has the first question?"

  Looking around, Yemaya noticed a small hand waving tentatively from the seventh row. Pointing to the child, she smiled.

  "Hello, what is your name?"

  "Sandy," the little girl answered shyly.

  "Well, Sandy, what would you like to know?"

  "Well, um... do you have any kids?"

  "Sandy, Sandy, Sandy," the Illusionist laughed. "Now I just said no personal questions."

  "But that's not personal, Ms. Yemaya. Kids ain't personal, you know," she explained seriously. "Almost everyone has them, so how can that be personal?"

  Pretending to think about the answer, Yemaya nodded sagely.

  "You know, Sandy, you have me there. With so many kids around, how can it be personal? So, no. I do not have kids."

  "That's too bad," Sandy responded sadly.

  "And why is that?" Yemaya asked, curious about the response.

  "Well, you see, you're such a pretty lady for being so old, and you seem real nice, too."

  Looking indignant, Yemaya placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward.

  "Old? Just how old do you think I am, young lady?"

  Blushing, the girl hid her face behind her hands and mumbled.

  "Sandy, I could not hear you. How old do you think I am?"

  "Um... mommy says you have to be at least thirty," Sandy replied, peeking between her fingers.

  "Thirty, huh?"

  Turning to look at the woman sitting next to the child, Yemaya chuckled as the highly embarrassed mother sank low in her chair, her eyes turned down in an attempt to avoid the penetrating blue gaze.

  "Well, thank you, Mom. I never considered thirty to be old. In fact, I would consider it quite young," she responded seriously. "Now any other questions?" She turned back toward the audience, the issue of age unanswered.

  "Yeah, I got one," a male voice yelled from the shadows. "How'd you get to be a magician?" The sarcasm penetrated the darkness, causing several heads to turn to identify the annoying individual.

  Crossing her arms, Yemaya ignored the urge to punish the man for his ignorance. The angry stares of her audience spoke eloquently for her.

  "I am not a magician. Magicians deal with magical powers. I am an illusionist. No sleight of hand, no pulling rabbits from a hat, no cutting people in half and putting them back together again. I do not possess the skills to create the tricks a magician must to entertain the public. I merely make things appear or disappear. I create a dilemma for you to figure out. How I do it is up to you to discover," she stated coolly.

  As the evening went on, the Illusionist continued to answer questions and asked a few of her own.

  "Unfortunately, I have to call a halt to the questions to start the show. Shezara is restless. One of my assistants is about to place some of her favorite food in the aquarium. This should whet her appetite, making her extremely hungry. I will then enter the water. If Shezara follows her normal instincts, she will charge me, mouth open. Her large size makes her quite capable of swallowing me whole or at the very least biting me in half. I can assure you it is not my intention for either of these scenarios to happen, especially since I have an appointment after the show," she joked. "If all goes as planned, one of us will disappear — hopefully me but not in the way you may imagine. Of course, if I am wrong, Shezara will not be hungry for a few days and I will miss that appointment. Now please excuse me while I change into something a little more suitable for the water. Please sit back and relax until I return."

  Walking off stage, Yemaya glanced again at the blonde in the fifth row. Apparently, she had found something to write with since she was again scribbling rapidly on her pad. Glancing up from her notes, Dakota's green eyes collided with those of the masked woman. Embarrassed at having been caught a second time, she quickly slid the tablet into her purse, sat back in the seat, and crossed her arms, assuming a nonchalant pose. Dakota stared unblinkingly at the entertainer, desperately hoping the dimly lit room hid her flushed cheeks. She suddenly had a feeling the woman knew more about her than she did the Illusionist.

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  For the first time in years, Yemaya also felt uncomfortable. This woman bothered her. She had noticed her at other performances, and each time, the young woman was taking notes. At five hundred dollars a seat, three shows cost too much for mere entertainment, unless of course, the woman was wealthy. Yemaya knew she was a journalist. What she didn't know, though, was why the petite blonde made her uneasy. She certainly wasn't a threat to her nor would she be able to uncover any details about her past. Yemaya's history had been masked from prying eyes, allowing for only a minimum paper trail, enough to satisfy the interest of most of the public. She was aware that her files had been accessed by several people over the last few months. Some were merely curious; others were journalists. A few, however, were dangerous and needed to be carefully m
onitored.

  Putting those thoughts aside, Yemaya nodded to the woman before disappearing behind the curtains.

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  Once Yemaya was out of sight, Dakota exhaled deeply, her hands trembling slightly. Eye contact with the performer had been unnerving enough the first time. Two times in one night was eerie. She had followed the Illusionist for months, trying to gather information. At first, she just wanted to write an exposé on magicians and illusionists, specifically the differences in attitudes and themes.

  After attending a few performances of four internationally known illusionists, she thought she had enough data to write the article for her magazine. It was only after seeing an editorial in a prominent New York paper about Yemaya Lysanne that she decided to add one more magician/illusionist to her report.