But he was right back to professional cool as he greeted Ethan and escorted him up to R&D. He gavea perfunctory tour of the department on the way back to his office.
Ethan's eyes drank in every detail.
While Owen talked, I compared the two men side by side. Ethan was half a head taller than Owen, and both had slender builds, but Owen's shoulders were a little broader, proportionally speaking. He looked sturdier than Ethan. Owen was all sharp contrasts—nearly black hair, very fair skin, dark blue eyes—while there was something almost blurred about Ethan. His hair was brown, with the slightest hint of silver showing at the temples, and his skin had more color to it than Owen's did. His eyes were a silvery gray that barely showed up as a color. He wouldn't stand out from any crowd unless he tried, while Owen was likely to draw anyone's eye, unless he was making an effort to hide.
Oddly enough, I got the sense that their personalities weren't all that different. They were hitting it off well enough, so well that I wasn't sure Ethan really needed me to be his anchor. Today he was taking the magic in stride.
We got to Owen's office, where Owen gestured us toward the chairs facing his desk.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"Is it going to appear out of thin air?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Brace yourself," I warned. "But you do get used to it."
A mug appeared in Ethan's hand, and he only flinched a little bit.
"Katie?" Owen offered.
"No, thanks. I'm good."
Owen leaned against his desk, facing us. "Well then, I suppose we should get down to business. First, do you have any questions about what you learned yesterday?"
"Maybe one more demonstration, to prove to myself I didn't imagine all this."
"Okay." Owen took a quarter out of his pocket and held it in his right palm. He waved his left hand over it, and the quarter disappeared. Then he opened his left hand to reveal the quarter. "That was sleight of hand." He held his left hand palm up with the quarter in it, then the quarter rose to hover an inch over his palm, flip over, and land back on his palm. "That was magic. Can you tell the difference?"
Ethan frowned. "For one thing, I can't tell how you did it. For another, I think I felt something, like a charge."
Owen nodded. "You did."
"But I'm supposed to be immune to magic."
"You can still feel the energy at work. Everyone does. Most people just write it off as a shiver up their spine or static electricity. It's amazing how good the human brain is at rationalizing things it doesn't understand."
"Yeah, I spent the past year thinking that fairies were making a fashion statement and that elves had seen The Lord of the Rings too many times," I said.
"You know, I think I'm ready to believe you," Ethan said. "So what do you have on our case?"
Owen handed him a file. "This is Phelan Idris's employment record. I was careful to document everything, every assignment, every reprimand, every performance evaluation."
Ethan flipped through the file. "This is very thorough. Did you know he was a troublemaker from the start?"
"I had a feeling. No evidence, though. I just knew that I'd need documentation someday." He scratched his ear and looked embarrassed, although for once he didn't blush. "I have a touch of precognition— not enough to be a real seer, just the occasional flash of insight. This time it proved useful."
"Can I take this?" Ethan asked.
"They're copies. Go ahead."
Ethan slipped the file into his briefcase. Owen handed him another file. "These are the projects he was working on while he was employed here. I've made copies of his source material."
"And you have the only known copy of this source material?"
"On the bookshelf over there."
Ethan stuck that file in his case, and Owen handed him yet another file. "This is my analysis of the spells he's marketing. I've highlighted the comparisons where I think he lifted work he did while he was here. His work here forms the core of these spells. Without that work, he'd have nothing."
Ethan frowned as he studied these. "I have to admit that this makes very little sense to me. I'll have to rely on your notes. They seem pretty extensive. Anyway, our goal is to just get his attention. I should have enough to go on."
"Let me know if you have any questions or if you need anything explained. You have my card."
Ethan closed his briefcase. "Anything else I need to know?"
"That should do it, unless you have questions along the way."
"Then I should be able to get a letter drafted by the end of this week. Should I send it to you for review?"
Owen nodded. "And I can get it in front of Mr. Mervyn."
"Then I'll talk to you later this week."
I walked Ethan to the exit. "He seems nice enough, not at all what you'd expect of a wizard," he remarked.
"What would you expect of a wizard?"
"Oh, I don't know. More mystery, I guess. Maybe more intimidation and power."
"You haven't seen him really working." At least, not that Ethan knew of. It was best that he didn't know who was behind the shenanigans at the restaurant.
"To be honest, I'm not sure I want to. I'm comfortable with this level of involvement.
I don't think I'm ready for full immersion. I don't know how you do it."
"It's easier than you'd think."
* * *
On Thursday afternoon there was a tap on my office door, and I looked up to see Owen. "Hi, there!" I said. "Can I help you with something?"
"I just got Ethan's letter draft, and I want you to take a look at it before I show Mr.
Mervyn."
"I'm no legal expert," I warned him.
"Neither am I. Maybe between the two of us, we can tell if this makes sense."
The letter was full of legal mumbo jumbo that was less intelligible to me than the spell Owen had made me read. "I have no idea what this says, other than that the gist of it is that Idris has to stop using his stolen spells and pay restitution to the company, or something like that. It seems legitimate enough to me. Do you think Mr. Mervyn will understand it?" I wasn't sure a guy who'd spent a thousand years asleep was going to grasp the intricacies of the modem American legal system.
"You'd be surprised."
We went together over to Merlin's office and gave him the letter. He read it carefully, making the occasional "hmmrn" sound. It looked like Owen was right. He did know what he was reading. He must have spent his free time studying every reference book he could get his hands on, or maybe he'd discovered the Internet.
"This is excellent work," he said.
"You know about law?" I had to ask.
"Remember, the Romans hadn't been too long gone in my day. Your modem legal system has its share of similarities to their law. Please tell Mr. Wainwright to go ahead and send the letter to Mr. Idris. And then we'll see what happens."
It didn't take long to get a response. Within two hours I had a call from the lobby that Mr. Wainwright was there to see Mr. Mervyn. I met Ethan at the top of the escalator. "What is it?" I asked. He looked flushed and out of breath.
Merlin joined us a second later. "You've had a response?"
"He wants to meet."
eighteen
"Trix, get Owen up here," Merlin instructed before turning to I head back into his office. Ethan and I followed him. "So, he wants to meet?"
"Yes, sir. I made it clear that I could get an injunction and tie him up in court for the foreseeable future. That could eat into his potential business dealings. Now he must want to get all of this out of the way."
"Do you really think he'd want to negotiate?" I asked. "I mean, he doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd much care what the courts say."
"Everyone cares what the courts say, if it means you're out of business," Ethan said.
"No, I doubt he wants to negotiate," Merlin confirmed. "I imagine he's as tired of playing games as we are."
Owen arrived then, panting and disheveled from wha
t must have been a sprint up to Merlin's office. "What is it?" he asked.
Ethan explained, "I heard from Idris. He wants a meeting."
"Already? That letter must have been more powerful than I realized."
"Let's just say my C and D letters are my own brand of magic."
We gathered around the table, and Ethan pulled out his Palm Pilot, then brought up a document. "Here's the gist of it. He wants to keep this out of the mundane legal system—I suppose that's your word for nonmagical things. But he also wants us to get out of his way. He wants a meeting to hash all this out, but not around a conference table. He said something about the 'good old-fashioned way,' and that you'd know what that meant. We get to pick the place."
"He's challenging us to a magical duel," Owen said, his eyes grave.
"You still do those?" Merlin asked.
"Not often, at least not officially. They're as frowned upon in our community as the sword or pistol kind is under mundane law."
"Don't look at me," Ethan said. "My game is legal briefs at ten paces. I'm just the go-between here. I'm supposed to get back to him with a location within an hour.
The time is set for sunrise tomorrow. And only four people are to come per side, no creatures. Only humans."
"Then that's not technically a duel," Owen remarked. "A duel implies two people.
But details were never Phelan's strong suit."
"You're going to fight a duel?" I asked, not sure whether I should believe what I was hearing. "Isn't that kind of archaic?"
"I'm more than a thousand years old," Merlin said with a wry smile. "I'm the very definition of archaic. I might as well live up to it. Are you in, my boy?" he asked Owen.
Owen went pale. "I've never done this sort of thing before, not seriously. Just what they taught us in school."
"You're our strongest. I can't think of anyone who'd be more up to the task."
"Wait a second, you're more than a thousand years old?" Ethan asked, lagging somewhat behind the conversation.
I leaned over to whisper in his ear. "He's Merlin, the real one. I'll explain later." He stared at me, then at Merlin, then back at me, and I nodded to confirm it. He shook his head in amazement.
"If we get to select the location, we might as well make it one to our advantage,"
Merlin continued, ignoring Ethan's question. He raised a hand, and a large book flew off the shelf to land on the conference table. He leaned over the book, stroking his beard as he studied the page. Then he pointed to a spot. "There, that seems to be the area of weakest magical influence in this region."
I came over to the book and saw that he was pointing to a spot on the southern New Jersey coastline. Ethan joined us. "Yeah, I would have guessed that the Jersey shore was pretty nonmagical, especially this time of year. The place should be more or less deserted." He bent to look closer at the map. "Hmm, Wildwood. We went there once on vacation when I was a kid. Very kitschy. The boardwalk is nice, though. It has a good amusement park."
"But why are you choosing a nonmagical area?" I asked. "Don't you need something to draw on for power?" I remembered what Rod had said about the need for a power supply.
"That will weaken him more than it weakens us," Merlin said. "We have a secret weapon." He turned to look at Owen, who appeared uncomfortable. A couple of bright spots formed on his cheeks, then spread over the rest of his face.
"I can probably outlast him," he said softly. That must be what Rod had meant about Owen being particularly powerful. He didn't need to draw on other energy sources as much as others did. Or something like that. One day I was going to have to get that physics of magic lecture from somebody.
Then Owen's lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "Let's meet at the amusement park. That will keep us out of sight so we won't have to worry about masking while we're fighting, and it gives us something to work with."
"It'll give him somewhere to hide, though," I pointed out. "Do you really believe he'll stick to the rules he set out?"
"That's why you'll be there, both of you," Merlin said. "We'll need our legal counsel, of course, upon the outcome of the battle, but it will be very handy to have a couple of immunes on our side. I doubt that's something he'll have."
"And we can work with that." Owen was really getting into this. It was the most enthusiastic I'd ever seen him about anything. "He may bring extra people and mask them, but we can make him think we've got a few other things on our side." He grinned, and a wicked gleam formed in his eyes. "It's all about the sleight of hand."
"So, we get back to him," Ethan said, "tell him he's on, and we'll meet at the boardwalk amusement park in Wildwood, in front of the roller coaster, at dawn.
Does that work for everyone?"
Merlin nodded. "Please let him know we accept his challenge, according to his terms."
"Is there a phone I can use?"
"My office," I said.
While he went to make the call, I thought of logistical matters. "That's about a three-hour drive from here. My roommates and I once drove down to Atlantic City, and this is even farther. We'll need to leave pretty early in the morning—more like the middle of the night— to get there on time. That means we'll need a car, or do you guys have magical transportation?"
"That would be unwise, as we'll need to save our energy for the fight itself," Merlin said.
"Okay then, we'll need a car. I still have a license, so we can rent one." I was looking forward to getting on the open road. That was something I missed from Texas.
"I have a car," Ethan said as he came back to the office. "No need to rent one. We should leave by two in the morning, to give us plenty of time to get there, scope the place out, and get situated. Oh, and he did agree to the location. We're definitely on."
Merlin looked satisfied. "Good."
"This isn't to the death, is it?" I asked, suddenly nervous.
Owen shook his head. "No, it shouldn't be, not unless he refuses to surrender when he's clearly beaten."
"You sound awfully confident."
He shrugged. "I am. I've gone up against him before, though never in so formal or so serious a fight, and he's never given me any problems. But if we are clearly beaten, we'll surrender so he doesn't have to kill us."
"And what then?"
"Depending on the outcome of the fight, I'm sure we'll work out an agreement regarding what spells he's allowed to produce," Merlin said. "We win, he stops using these spells. He wins, we have to let him."
"Maybe we should bring back dueling," Ethan mused. "It would really unclog the court system, and thin out the ranks of lawyers."
"We'll all need our rest, so everyone should go home and prepare," Merlin said.
"I can pick everyone up, depending on where everyone is," Ethan said. "I live in Battery Park City."
"My home is in this building," Merlin said.
"Katie and I live near each other," Owen put in. "She's off Fourteenth, and I'm in Gramercy."
Ethan fed all our information into his Palm Pilot, then we arranged pickup times and places and headed out. The thought crossed my mind that we could have tried to find hotel rooms in the area so we wouldn't have to drive all night, but by the time we all got home and packed for an overnight stay, it would be rush hour, so it would take us about as much time to get out of the general metro area as it would to make the whole drive in the middle of the night, and in the off season, finding a hotel room late at night might be a challenge.
I ran into Owen at the subway station. He looked tense but excited. "Are you really up for this?" I asked him while we waited for a train.
"I think so. I know what to do, but I've never had the chance to try it."
"And you're really more—" I searched for a word I could use safely in public.
"—capable than he is?"
"Apparently so. People are gifted in a lot of areas. This happens to be mine." He shrugged. "Maybe it's genetic."
"Were your parents like that?"
"I don't know. I never
knew them. They died when I was a baby. At least, I think they did. I don't even know who they were."
As usual, a train showed up just as things were getting interesting, and a crowded subway train wasn't the place to get into a conversation about someone's mysterious origins. If Owen was an orphan, that could explain some of his awkwardness around people.
He walked me home from the subway station, saying he didn't want to take any chances, then we said we'd see each other very soon. I went upstairs and laid out an outfit for the morning. I wasn't sure what one should wear to a magical battle—not even Gemma the fashion maven would have an answer to that—so I went with warm, comfortable clothes that were still businesslike—a black wool pantsuit with a gray sweater underneath and low-heeled short boots.
I knew I should go to bed early, but I was too wired to sleep. Instead, I baked cinnamon rolls. Cooking always relaxes me, and I had a feeling all of us could use some sugar in the morning. The rolls were rising when my roommates got home.
"What are you up to?" Marcia asked when she saw the flour-spattered kitchen.
"I have to go on a very early road trip for work in the morning."
"Ah, sucking up to the boss with some goodies, huh?"
"Or impressing the cute guy?" Gemma teased.
"Mostly just sorting out my thoughts," I said, although they were both partially right.
"I can switch beds with you for the night, Marcia, so I don't disturb you when I have to get up and go. It's going to be god-awful early."
"What kind of business trip is it?" Marcia asked.
"Just a meeting my boss is going to."
"And he's too cheap to spring for a hotel room. Typical. He is driving with you, though, isn't he? He's not putting himself up in luxury for the night?"
"No, he's driving with us. It was a last minute thing, so we couldn't get rooms."
"Is that cute guy, the one you were talking about, going to be on this trip?" Gemma asked. She has a one-track mind.
"Yeah. Actually, there will be two of them." I hadn't yet told them Ethan was working with my company, so I decided not to try to work that in right then. It would get too complicated to explain. Come to think of it, "complicated" was a very good word for my life.
* * *
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