"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 what 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.