The triumphant return you’ve been waiting for. . .

I am not able to linger on Maguerite’s confession for long; Australia is a dangerous place, especially for a magician. With that in mind I begin to survey the plain I’ve landed in.

The wind is blowing gently, sending green waves and ripples over the surface of the plain. My combination recon/reverie is interrupted by my sixth sense suddenly registering an alarming amount of magic in my immediate vicinity.

Reflexively, I raise my arms, half a dozen spells ready to erupt from my fingertips should I need to defend myself. Without warning or pretense, six men and women appear in a circle centered on me. All of them are wearing the white powered armor of the Australian Army and pointing very large rifles directly at my head. Good. I lower my arms and let the magic subside; the mystical equivalent of un-nocking an arrow. Being able to mask their presence from me for as long as they did means the concealment spells built into their armor are both powerful and expertly enchanted. That bodes well for me.

The squad’s leader, a Corporal according to her insignia, speaks to me in brusque tones. “Quickly, concisely, and unambiguously state your name and purpose, magician.” She fills the last word with all the venom normally reserved for our language’s most loathsome curses. But considering the history of her nation, it’s hard to blame her.

“I am Aldain Walker, Sorcerer of Carlisle. I have arranged for a meeting with Michael Turing.”

The look on the Corporal’s face is easily worth being held at gunpoint.

“Lower your weapons!” barks the Corporal. Her soldiers comply, but her gun stays trained on the space just between my eyes. Smart girl.

“If this man is who he says he is, then he’s a friend–the one we’ve been waiting around out here two weeks for,” she explains. “If he’s not, I’m sure the real Aldain Walker will kill him soon enough.” She jerks her head to the left very slightly. “Smith, get the suppressors on him so we can proceed civilly.”

One of the grunts moves to me and places a white plastic cuff on each of my wrists. After a moment, they are suffused with a soft white glow. I’ll be unable to use any magic until they are removed. I feel a strange emptiness while so separated from my power.

Once this precaution is in place, the Corporal lowers her weapon.

“Follow me, Sorcerer. It’s a ways yet to go before we reach the city.”

I am led to a stealthed troop transport and invited to sit up front with the Corporal while she drives. As we trundle along our way to the city, my thoughts begin to wander.