"My name is Gilbert Sansom, and I'd like to thank everyone for coming here today," Gilbert said as he stood in the ballroom and addressed the assembled guests. "I also owe a debt of gratitude to my aunt, Lady Bosford, for contacting you all, and to Lord Choughton for extending us his gracious hospitality."

He waited for the smattering of applause to end, and then he waved his hand, gesturing at the large table to his left, the smaller table beyond, and the props that sat on them both. "I'm sure this setup looks very familiar to you all. A little over a fortnight ago, Lord Choughton and I, accompanied by my aunt, attended one of Doctor Lee's sessions. We saw seemingly miraculous things—paper slips levitating, ghosts appearing out of thin air, and of especial interest to me, a surgery that occurred without a single incision."

A murmur arose, and many of the guests nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure my aunt has acquainted you at some point with the fact that I am a doctor," Gilbert continued. "I trained at the University of Edinburgh, pursuing medical studies that have allowed me to practice as both a physician and a surgeon."

"Yes, I told them all about you, darling," Lady Bosford called from the side. The ladies tittered at her comment.

Joseph watched faint splashes of pink appear on Gilbert's cheeks. I almost feel sorry for him, he thought. But he looks lovely when he blushes.

"Being a man of science," Gilbert said, ignoring his aunt, "I was naturally skeptical about what I had seen, but I was at a loss to explain how these things could have happened. I would like to introduce you to someone who can not only explain it, but can copy it as well. Ladies and gentlemen, Mister Joseph Shackleton."

Amidst polite applause, Joseph walked to the front of the table, and when he had the room's full attention, he smiled and bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you all today. In case you didn't know, I am but half of a duo—over there is my parter Goran Stone, and together you might know us as 'Shackleton and Stone.' Some of you may have seen us perform at the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly, where we do our best to entertain and amuse with magical illusions."

Goran bowed with a flourish.

Excited murmurs and applause arose from the audience, which relieved Joseph considerably; he had secretly dreaded the possibility that none of them had heard of him, and were only there for a weekend at Hakken Hall. "Goran and I attended one of Doctor Lee's sessions last week, at Doctor Sansom's request, and I was amazed at what I saw." Joseph said. "But it wasn't the flying papers, or the ghosts, or even the surgery that surprised me. It was the fact that I recognized every single one of those phenomena as a trick. A magic trick."

He had them now; every eye in the room was on him.

"Tonight, Mister Stone and I are going to show you those tricks, and show you just how we did them. Why? Because, ladies and gentlemen, you were lied to. What you really saw was a magic show, but the magician tried to pretend that it was real." He waved to Henry. "Lord Choughton, could we lower the lights now? About half, please, I want everyone to be able to see what's going on."

Henry gestured to his butler, and the room darkened as the gas-lit ceiling lamps were turned down. Joseph turned to Goran. "Bring me the bowl," he intoned, just like Lee had said to Naka. Goran carried it over, and signaled with his eyes where the wires were. Joseph made gestures over and under the bowl, and on his way back up he caught a knot in one of the wires between his fingers. As he lifted his hand, the paper rose in the air.

People gasped, and Joseph grinned. "Just like what you saw, right?" He kept the slip of paper in his hand and nodded to Goran, who lifted another wired slip out of the bowl and handed it to the closest audience member. "Young lady," Joseph said, "there's a very thin wire attached to that paper, can you feel it?" When she nodded, wide-eyed, he continued, "Go ahead and hold it up."

She complied, and dozens of people exclaimed as her paper rose in the air. Joseph encouraged her to wiggle it about and make it dance, and she giggled as she did so.

"Would you be so kind as to pass it along to your neighbor?" Joseph asked. "Please, everyone, go ahead and examine it." He unfolded the slip in his hand and read, "Theresa Pennington." He smiled when there was an excited squeak over to the left. "Miss Pennington, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We're going to find a ghost for you."

He walked over to where the blushing young woman sat, and bowed to her. "My goodness, there is a ghost right over here!" he exclaimed, and there was another commotion when a pale, flickering apparition appeared next to where Joseph stood.

Joseph cupped an ear and pretended to listen. "This ghost claims that they own the ring you found at a recent party."

Miss Pennington squeaked again. "But how could it know that?"

Joseph smiled. "I'll answer that in a moment. But first, ladies and gentlemen, I would like you all to look over at poor Mister Stone, who has been completely ignored while I was chatting with this lovely lady."

Goran pouted as he stood by the smaller table.

"Do you see that tall block of brass on the table? I apologize, I wasn't able to procure an obelisk in time, so this had to do. While you all were looking at me and the beautiful Miss Pennington here, Mister Stone turned that lovely, shiny piece of brass just enough to catch a reflection off some plate glass that we set up off to the side. Before I show you the glass, watch the 'ghost' and let me show you what happens when Mister Stone turns the block back."

The apparition disappeared and reappeared as Goran moved the block so that the polished side reflected the carefully positioned candlelight over to where Joseph stood. Joseph walked over a few feet to the side, and rapped on the glass that he and Goran had set in place that morning. A burst of excited chatter followed his action, as the 'ghost' shook with each rap.

"I think if you cast your memories back," Joseph said, "you'll recall that the ghosts only appeared on the sides of the room. Mister Stone, show us the other ghost."

Goran swiveled the block around to face the opposite side, where Gilbert stood, and an apparition appeared next to him.

"Doctor Sansom, could you please give a knock?" Joseph asked.

Gilbert turned and rapped on the glass panel that was positioned behind him. The second 'ghost' shook.

The guests applauded, and when they quieted Joseph said, "When we are finished I welcome you all to examine the room—unlike Doctor Lee, who hurried everyone out under the guise of needing to 'purify the room.' What he needed to purify it of was all his props and equipment." There was laughter at his saucy remark, and when it died down Joseph turned to the young lady and said, "My dear Miss Pennington, we learned about your lucky find the old-fashioned way; we eavesdropped."

More chuckles.

"Did you all notice that Naka stayed in the parlor the whole time before the session? That young man was listening to your conversations, and if something sounded worthwhile he would fold your paper slip. Thank you, Miss Pennington, for your assistance." Joseph bowed, and then he took her hand and kissed it, while the guests applauded once more. "I believe we have that other slip of paper in the audience, who has it, please?"

An older gentleman raised his hand. "I do, young man."

"Could you read the name on it? They will be my patient this evening."

The man unfolded the paper and read, "Gilbert Sansom."

An excited murmur swept through the room.

"Wait a minute," Gilbert said, "I didn't write my name down!"

"No," Joseph replied, "I did."

The guests laughed at Gilbert's indignation.

"Please step over to the operating table, Doctor Sansom," Joseph said, waving a hand at the large oak table in front of the audience. "Doctor Sansom is a lucky man, for I will be operating on him twice—and the second time you will all learn the secret. Do please remove your coat and waistcoat." He bit his lip to keep his expression neutral as Gilbert glowered at him and complied, handing his garments to Goran. Joseph turned to the guests. "I fear I will need to be a bit scandalous this evening and ask Doctor Sansom to also remove his shirt; I don't wish for there to appear to be any way that I can hide something upon his person."

Several young ladies giggled before their mothers shushed them, and Joseph watched in amusement as a large number of female gazes focused on Gilbert, who had turned several delightful shades of pink. Gilbert unbuttoned his shirt and shoved it at Goran, who looked to be enjoying himself immensely.

And what wasn't to enjoy? Gilbert was in excellent physical condition, and Joseph cast a quick, covert glance at a toned, decently muscled chest, slender waist, and flat stomach. When he lifted his gaze to meet Gilbert's, icy chips of amethyst looked back at him.

"Please, Doctor Sansom, lie down on the table." After Gilbert complied Joseph walked over behind the table and addressed the guests. "I will apologize in advance that I will be a little clumsy tonight," he said, indicating the sling. "I'm afraid I had a bit of a mishap last night and injured my arm, so I will be a little slower than I should like." Joseph removed the sling and set it off to the side, and he did a quick check to make sure everything was in place.

"All right now, Doctor Sansom, let's get rid of what's been making you feel so disagreeable," he said, and several older ladies—Joseph was sure they were Gilbert's patients—cackled loudly before hurriedly muffling their amusement.

For all the amazement the effect invoked, it was really quite a simple trick, and Joseph hadn't needed to practice it too many times. He cupped his injured hand as best he could just below Gilbert's ribcage, and then he held his other hand aloft, flat and stiff, before pretending to plunge it into Gilbert's abdomen. He quickly bent his first knuckle joints, then the second, and as he moved his hand, seemingly rooting inside Gilbert's intestines, he dropped his left shoulder so that the small blood-filled casing moved into his left palm. He squeezed it, and there were gasps and murmurs of dismay as blood trickled through his fingers.

"You ruin that cast, and I'm going to kill you," Gilbert threatened. He tried to look at what Joseph was doing.

"Get back down, sir!" Joseph said, and then he rolled his eyes at the audience. "Doctors make the worst patients."

The joke diffused some of the tension, but Joseph knew he still had everyone's undivided attention. He poked around some more, and then he dropped his right shoulder, allowing the chicken heart to drop into place. "Ah, here we are," he said, and he lifted out the thumb-sized organ and held it aloft. Goran came over with the bowl, and Joseph tossed it—and the spent sausage casing—into the bowl. After wiping his hands on a cloth, Joseph lit a matchstick from a nearby candle and dropped it into the bowl. The guests exclaimed in surprised as the contents erupted into pale blue flames.

Gilbert tried to sit up, but Joseph stopped him again. "Now," Joseph said, "I'm going to show you how I accomplished that miraculous removal of Doctor Sansom's ill mood." Goran helped Joseph shed his coat, and Joseph winced a bit when his injured arm was jostled. He spread his trussed-up arms out, and turned around slowly, so that everyone could see the apparatus he wore. "Ladies and gentlemen, what I am wearing is a standard, although custom-made, piece of equipment that almost any good stage magician will have in his inventory. This apparatus allows me to store items, so that I can make them 'magically' appear with ease. On this side, we have a small sausage casing filled with a little pig's blood." Goran attached a second filled casing where the first one had been. Joseph held out his right arm. "And on this side I store the 'impure tissue,' which is nothing more than a chicken's heart, liver, or kidney." Goran clipped a chunk of chicken liver to its spot on the apparatus.

"So now you see, I have my items ready. Normally, I would wear this under my shirt, but I felt it would be much too scandalous for me to also be without my shirt, especially as I am much more handsome than Doctor Sansom." When the laughter died down, Joseph continued, "Please watch where the sausage casing moves when I lower my left shoulder." He shifted, rotating his arm out so that everyone could see the casing move to his palm. "Ow," he muttered as he felt a stab of pain in his arm.

Gilbert's gaze was on him in an instant. "Stop moving it like that," he whispered harshly.

"I'm sorry, my arm doesn't currently agree with that position," Joseph said, and then he shifted his right shoulder and turned that arm out. "See, now the chicken liver is at the ready." He held up his right hand. "Now, for the look of putting my hand in the good doctor's body, I have the good fortune to be double-jointed," he said, flexing only the top tips of his fingers, "something that both amazed and disgusted my schoolmates."

"He's right," Henry said loudly from the back of the room. "It is disgusting, and I could never bear to watch him bend his fingers that way—my own would ache in sympathy."

Joseph performed the 'surgery' once more, calling out each of his moves, and as he held up the chicken liver he said, "The blue flames are from a chemical, and it catches fire quickly because the whole bit is doused with alcohol." He dropped the liver into the bowl and showed everyone that he was still holding the sausage casing. "And look what I have here! I snuck this into my hand, and now it all will burn so no one is the wiser."

He was about to toss another match into the bowl when he saw a slight figure standing in the ballroom's entrance.

"Naka," he said.

Every head in the room turned to face the young man, who looked almost child-like clad in borrowed pyjamas, with his long, fair hair caught back with a simple ribbon. "How did you know?" Naka asked, and his eyes were wide as he took in the room's setup. "How did you know that my father did everything this way?"

"Goran and I are stage magicians," Joseph replied, "and we've been doing this long enough that we recognized that everything your father did was a trick. And that you were his assistant."

Naka bowed his head. "Yes."

"Naka," Goran said, "we know he forced you to help him. But you don't have to any more—everyone here now knows it was all a trick, and when word gets out, no one will every hire him again."

The room was filled with murmurs of assent.

Henry walked over to stand by Naka. "Everyone, I invite you to investigate the room as thoroughly as you'd like, and then you can proceed to the drawing room, where there are some lovely pastries and some tea, as well as some spirits of the alcoholic sort. Thank you so much for your kind attention this evening."

Gilbert sat up as the guests began to disperse, and Joseph watched Henry call the butler over to escort Naka back to his room. Goran made quick work of unbuckling the apparatus and Joseph eased his coat back on, careful to not twist his arm again. "Well, that was unexpected," he said to Gilbert, and he thrust a damp cloth into his hands.

"Unexpected, but extremely timely," Gilbert said as he scrubbed at the blood on his stomach. "Hand me my shirt." He scowled as he shrugged into the garment, quickly buttoning it up. "Several of my patients were here tonight."

Joseph laughed. "I know, I heard them. But just think how much more in demand you'll be now, Gilbert." He stepped back when Gilbert reached toward him, thinking that Gilbert was finally going to hit him this time, but Gilbert merely picked up the sling.

"Bastard," Gilbert muttered as he re-tied the sling around Joseph's neck.

"I had such a lovely view, too," Joseph murmured. "You've filled out nicely."

Gilbert mouthed the words 'fuck you' and then went to retrieve his waistcoat and jacket.

The room was soon empty, except for Joseph, Gilbert, and Goran, and the three men dragged a few chairs into a rough circle and plopped down onto the richly upholstered seats.

"That was a lot of fun," Goran said. "It was almost as fun as one of our regular shows."

"You have a warped definition of 'fun,'" Gilbert said as he slouched in his chair.

"Oh come now, Gilbert, admit it—it was a very successful evening." Henry stood a few feet away, an opened bottle of champagne and four glasses in his hands.

"Give me that," Gilbert ordered, taking a glass, and he poured a generous portion of the sparkling wine.

"Don't drink yet, we have to toast." Joseph took the bottle from Gilbert and poured for himself and the others.

"To a successful evening," Henry said, raising his glass.

The other three repeated the toast, and they drank.

"To Henry having people other than me in his house," Gilbert said, "and surviving it."

"The weekend's not over yet, Gilbert," Henry said, but he touched their glasses with his own. "But I must admit, it hasn't been nearly as horrible as I thought it would be. Dinner was lovely, and a few of the young ladies are actually quite nice."

"My turn," Goran said. "To new friends." He raised his glass to both Gilbert and Henry.

"To new friends."

Joseph refilled all their glasses, and then raised his up. "Thank you for letting us help you with this, both of you, it was quite an adventure. We exposed a fraud, and we most likely saved a young man's life."

"Hear, hear," Henry murmured.

Joseph extended his glass, and he looked into Gilbert's eyes. "To old friends," he said.

Gilbert's glass touched his with a soft clink, and although his expression was serious, Gilbert's eyes were a dark, smoky violet, and the banked desire in their depths made Joseph's pulse race.

"To old friends," Gilbert said, and he downed the contents of his glass.