*** I looked at Dawson, and saw that he too was agape. "What's the matter?" There were no buildings in sight, no boats, no other cars. Just a stretch of riverbank with a still-thriving crop of autumn weeds. "I don't see anything." "Problem is, we *should* be seeing something." Pierson started the car and drove a few yards more, then pulled over to the side of the road. He jumped out and began walking along the bank, occasionally kicking the unoffending plant life. He seemed stunned. Dawson also struggled out of the car, and I followed. "It was here," Dawson said in a bewildered voice. "Right here." "What was?" I demanded. "MacLeod's barge!" Pierson was almost shouting. I gulped. "He could have moved it..." I let my voice trail off as I belatedly saw why that explanation wouldn't work. Dawson spelled it out. "The barge, yeah. Even the sculptures. But all this property was landscaped! I saw it less than a month ago, and now it looks like it hasn't been touched in years. This is...weird." "Oh, bloody hell," Pierson said. Then he let out what I assumed was a string of oaths in a language I'd never heard. "There *is* another Immortal here. Feel him, Manny?" I stopped to consider it and realized I did. Pierson's presence had been masking the other one. "Yeah, you're right." I began looking around, thinking Duncan must be lying injured somewhere. But there was nothing that could have blocked my view of a man on the ground. In the *water?* Pierson cursed again, then strode over to the bank. "Not funny, MacLeod," he said in a hard, angry voice. "Are you going to let me see the bloody gangplank, or do I have to stand here and *feel* for it all afternoon?" To my amazement, he actually stuck one foot out and began "feeling" for where an invisible gangplank might have been. I was even more amazed when a gangplank swam into view. Pierson's guess at its location had only been off by about three feet. A moment later the entire barge appeared as a shimmering vision, then solidified before my eyes. Duncan MacLeod, standing at the head of the gangplank, said, "Not meant to be funny." *** Ten minutes later--after I'd said polite things about the sculptures that materialized right after the barge--we were settled in the main cabin. But I couldn't shake the thought that it might vanish any second and dump me in the Seine. Pierson was still glowering. "You brought us here for *this*, MacLeod? To show off what you've become?" "No!" I could see Duncan was distressed at having upset his friend. "I haven't changed, and I won't. I swear it. "But I wanted to give you a glimpse, just a glimpse, of the powers Jacob Kell was close to mastering. And I couldn't risk startling you like that anywhere but on my own property. "*That* power is one Cassandra had." He glanced at me. "Sorry, Manny, you don't know who I'm talking about. An Immortal who saved my life when I was a child. She could make people--groups of people--look right at her hut and not see it. Even perceive *her* as a wolf. "But in modern times, she let her powers atrophy. I'll do the same. I won't even experiment with anything beyond what I just did, and I won't repeat that." He looked at Pierson again, pleading for understanding. "I just wanted to show you what we could have been dealing with. Can you imagine trying to fight an invisible Immortal?" Pierson shuddered. "I don't like to think about it." "What I'm really saying"--Duncan gripped the older man's arm--"is that *you were right*. I had no choice but to kill him when I did. I know that now." All Pierson said was "Oh." But the warmth was back in his voice.