Free Genie and Engineer 1: The Engineer Wizard by Glenn Michaels Page B

of
dirt and then returned to the four-poster bed. There, he opened his hand, and
with the other one, he brushed away most of the dirt until he had a small number
of tiny specks of sand scattered in his palm.
    Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he visualized one of
the particles moving, willing it to levitate off his hand and to hover in the
air.
    It didn’t so much as twitch, let alone levitate.
    Paul grunted in annoyance. It was no wonder he couldn’t get
the more complicated spells to work, not if he couldn’t even make the smallest
grain of dirt budge.
    He tried several more times, but all attempts were without
result.
    With a huge sigh, Paul lay back on the bed. He was still
missing something, a very basic and crucial step in the casting of spells. But
what was it?
    Closing his eyes, he lay still, thinking of all the sci-fi
movies and TV episodes in his library. He tried to think of anything that
touched on magic and how it was used.
    One of the first examples he remembered was Galen of first Babylon
5 and then Crusade . One of the techno-mages. But they used
technology, not magic, for their spells.
    Then there was another original Star Trek episode he
remembered, “Catspaw,” in which fake witches in a bank of fog had used an
incantation to cast a spell for Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Spock had called it
extremely bad poetry, but the spell had called forth both wind and fog.
    Paul rubbed his chin in thought. Yes, it seemed to him that
in order to cast a proper spell, there should be an incantation. When he
thought about it, the wizard/genie had used an incantation too, when he gave
Paul his magical powers, and then he’d concluded by using the phrase, “So it is
said; so let it be!” However, that seemed much too quaint to suit Paul’s tastes.
What did that character say on his stepson’s favorite cartoon so long ago? “In
the name of Greystroke?” No, that wasn’t quite right. But it really didn’t
matter; the form was what counted.
    He got off the bed and collected more dirt from the flower
bed in the palm of his hand, isolating another grain of sand.
    “In the name of the warp drive, hyperspace, and the Holtzman
drive, may this grain of sand in the palm of my hand move and levitate.”
    And just like that, the grain of sand disappeared.
    Paul blinked several times. He studied the palm of his hand
closely. No, that particular grain of sand was definitely gone. He studied the
air above his hand, looking for a hovering speck of dirt. But no, nothing.
    He tried again, using the same exact spell on another grain
of sand. And the same identical result occurred. The speck of dirt disappeared
instantly. Where it went, Paul didn’t know. It was very mysterious. But also
very encouraging. He began to take heart. So, as it turned out, it took a
properly worded spell, as well as a certain degree of mental concentration, to
employ his magic. Why words were necessary was a mystery to him. It practically
offended his engineering sensibilities. Magic should work without words. Paul
distinctly remembered several spells from the wizard/genie without the use of
words. Well, without any words that were spoken out loud, at least.
    He tried again, this time using tiny pieces of rock the size
of BBs. Employing his spell on one of them produced the same outcome. It simply
disappeared from his hand. So did the next three that he tried.
    Then he gathered a few pea-sized pebbles and tried again.
    With the invocation of his spell, there was a sharp crack ,
and the stone disappeared. The noise startled Paul, and he blinked several
times in bewilderment. The mystery of where the targets of his spells were
going was really starting....
    Another sharp crack , this time accompanied by a
breath of air near his right ear, was enough to make him leap clear off the bed
in a single bound. What was that?
    A third crack , more muted, this time to his left.
    Somebody was shooting at him!
    He dove to the ground at the fourth crack ,