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The police car was pulling up, but how long now before a fire truck could be summoned?

And, Arthur looked around the area in horror, what would they hook up to? The hydrant had been slashed in half, thanks to his brilliant tactic.

Without hesitation Arthur stepped into the stream of water that gushed from the hydrant. The water soaked his clothes, his body, his hair. He glanced over to where the demon lay, and was pleased to see nothing but a small pile of soot where the creature had once been. That was convenient-he hadn't relished the thought of explaining the presence of a recently slain corpse to the authorities.

Arthur stepped out of the water, then, grabbed up Excalibur's scabbard, and slid the weapon back into his sheath, buckling the now-unseeable blade back onto his belt even as he raced toward the burning building.

The TV crews arrived just as the police cars did. Seeing the fire, the newsmen automatically trained their minicams on the blaze. It took them a few seconds to realize that there were children trapped inside, and even a few seconds more before they saw that the would-be next mayor of New York was risking his life in a mad dash into the inferno.

Arthur took one glance upward, saw that the children were hysterical, saw that there was no way he was going to be able to talk them into trying to jump down. However, he did not relish the idea of entering the building-the intensity of the heat was almost overwhelming.

Then, as he studied the wall, he had an idea. He removed his shoes and began to scale the side of the building.

It was easier than he'd dared hope. The building front was brick, and the windows and doors had been built with so many outcroppings that it had been practically designed for handholds. From the corner of his eye Arthur saw that residents of the buildings to either side were clearing out, and he was thankful for that.

He went higher, higher. Flame flared out from the window beneath him, licking at his pants cuff, and he had to reach down to pat it out. The wall was heating up under his touch. In moments it would be too hot for him to hold on. Bracing himself, he thrust himself higher, and his desperate reach grabbed the outcropping of a narrow ledge. It was all that he needed to pull himself up and away from the window. He scrabbled apelike (and he thought for a moment of Gwen's reference to a monkey suit-how right she had been) with his hands holding the ledge and his feet braced on the wall directly below.

He heard the sound of the children before he saw them. Hundreds of sparks flew at him and dissipated on the fabric of his wet clothing. He thanked his common sense for the move he'd made earlier for protection, or otherwise he'd have had a lot more to worry about than that one singed pants cuff.

He looked up through the smoke at the crying children.

"Hold on," he called. 'Til be right there!" His heart pumping furiously, Arthur pulled himself up so that his face was right even with the bottom of the window. He saw the frightened, smoke-smeared faces of the children, and it was all the incentive he needed to hoist himself upward and into the room with them.

The features of both of them were obscured by soot, but they clutched at his legs and cried hysterically for their parents.

Arthur scooped up the two children, one in each arm. The little boy, despite his fright, still took the opportunity to stroke Arthur's beard in wonderment. "Are you Santa Claus?" he sniffled out.

Arthur climbed up into the frame of the window, balanced there for a moment, and reviewed his options. The review came to an abrupt end when the ceiling behind him started to collapse and flames leaped at the three people. Breathing a silent prayer, Arthur Pendragon hurled himself and the children to the ground below.

The children shrieked into his ears, almost shattering his concentration. The ground arrived with dizzying speed as Arthur landed on his feet. Pain stabbed up through his legs, and he rolled, bringing the children in close to his chest and taking the impact on his shoulder. In the window where he'd just been, a ball of flame roared out, as if the fire were angry that he'd escaped and was venting its fury.

Arthur rolled off the curbside and into the street, even as police officers pushed through the crowds of people starting to ring them. Now there were more sirens coming-fire engines and ambulances. Two policemen wrestled momentarily with the TV cameras, who also wanted to push through the crowd to get close-ups. "Move it or lose it!" snapped one of the cops, and the cameramen chose to move it.

Arthur lay in the center of the circle, moaning softly but sitting up, massaging his bruised shoulders. The children stood on either side, no longer crying, almost forgetting Arthur completely as they watched their home burn.

"Wow," murmured the little girl, "when Mommy and Daddy come back from the movie, they're gonna be mad."

"Would you tell them we didn't start it, mister?" said the boy.

Arthur forced a smile. "Certainly. Right after I give them a long talk about leaving children without baby-sitters.'*

"If we'd have had a baby-sitter, you'd have had to rescue her too."

Arthur stared at the boy. "You have a point," he admitted.

The cops broke through to the center. "Okay, no one move. You're all gonna be all right, an ambulance is on its way!"

"Ambulance?" said Arthur.

"To take you to the hospital. Geez, mister, you shouldn't try stunts like that," said the cop, a young blond-haired rookie. "You should wait for the fire trucks to show up."

And as the fire trucks rounded the corner, the roof of the building collapsed in on itself with a heart-rending crash. Arthur looked up at the officer and said, with as little sarcasm as he could manage, "I'll remember that next time. I can't go to the hospital-I have a speech to make. People will be disappointed____"

He started to get to his feet, and immediately pain shot through his right leg. He crumbled, cursing, and muttered under his breath, "I'm getting a few centuries too old for this sort of thing."

"Arthur!"

He turned and saw Gwen shoving her way through the crowd. "Oh, thank the Lord, Gwen. It's good to see you." He winced as he touched his leg. "Help me get back to the hall. People paid good money to hear me babble about some nonsense or other____"

An ambulance had pulled up, and paramedics were already leaping out of the back. "Arthur, don't be crazy!" Gwen was saying. She shouted to the paramedics, "Over here!"

The paramedics turned in their direction, but Arthur gestured toward the two frightened children. The paramedics nodded their understanding and headed over to the youngsters.

Arthur lay his head back in Gwen's lap. "I'll wait for the next one. Gwen, where's Merlin?"

There was a pause, and Arthur looked up into Gwen's eyes. "Gwen?"

She turned away. Arthur sat upright and his voice was harsh. "Gwen! Where the hell is Merlin?"

It had happened with incredible swiftness. Merlin watched, uncertain of what he should do, as Arthur dashed out the door after the creatures who had stolen Excalibur. He looked back at the dais, saw that Gwen was on her feet, and frowned. That was damned quick recovery for someone who had fainted dead away. And the expression on her face-it looked like the expression of a woman who had just done something frightful beyond imagining.

Merlin started toward her, questions forming on his lips, when someone blocked the way.

The young wizard glanced up. It was another waiter, with a very unpleasant look. Merlin stepped back, but the waiter drew back his fist and sent a roundhouse punch sailing toward Merlin's chin. Merlin went down as if he'd been poleaxed, the floor spinning around him. He tried to stagger to his feet even as the waiter/demon grabbed up a chair and brought it slamming down on the magician's head. Stars exploded in Merlin's skull and he fell to the ground, unconscious.