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What kind of lesson do you have planned?”
“The magical version of shock and awe. When I’m through with these people, they’ll never want to go near magic again.” There was a dangerous glint to his eyes that made me glad there wasn’t nearly as much power to draw upon here as there was back in Manhattan. That meant he might not be able to do too much damage.
Sherri called from the front of the store, “Katie! Someone’s here to see you.”
I excused myself and went to the front register, where Rod and Merlin stood. Sherri was practically draped across the counter and drooling at Rod, who eyed her in return. He quickly moved his gaze away from her when I approached. I guessed it took a leopard awhile to change its spots completely.
“I assumed we might find you at your family business,” Merlin said.
“Yes, I’m here.” My voice involuntarily went up in pitch from nerves.
“And I take it we might find Mr. Palmer here, as well?”
I wished I had a way to warn Owen, but I had a feeling he’d be expecting something like this. “Yes, he is. Come on back.” Sherri gave us all a really funny look, but I decided to leave it to Dean to explain it to her.
The office was little more than a glorified broom closet, so adding two more people made it uncomfortably crowded. Still, it was probably the safest place to meet. Owen jumped to his feet when Merlin entered the room. He’d gone pale again. “Sir,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Ah, Mr. Palmer,” Merlin said, his voice calm and casual, and not at all like he was chewing out a wayward employee. “I trust you’ve recovered from your illness.” I knew it had to be sarcasm, but it sounded totally sincere. Owen gulped and nodded. “Good, because we will need your help to resolve this situation, and after that, we have much to discuss.”
Owen gulped and nodded again. “Yes, sir.”
Dean cleared his throat, so I introduced my brother to Merlin and Rod. “Meet our local wizard,”
Owen added.
“And Dean, this is Rod, another friend from New York who also works with us, and my former boss, Merlin.”
“You mean, like in the stories?”
“One and the same,” Merlin said. “Although I’m currently functioning under the name Ambrose Mervyn. It’s a more contemporary translation of my original name.”
Dean gaped at him. “You mean, you’re the real Merlin?”
“It’s a long story,” I put in. “We can discuss it later.”
“In the meantime,” Merlin said, “We need to develop a plan for dealing with Mr. Idris.”
Owen cleared his throat. “Um, actually, I sort of have something set up already. Dean says that Idris and his students will be meeting tonight on the town square at sunset. I’ve already gained the support of the local nature spirits to help us. They’ll be along the creek in the city park. I’ll show myself to the students, who are likely to give chase, and I can lead them into a trap. The naiads, dryads, and pixies will take care of the students, leaving us free to deal with Idris. It feels like the available power in this area keeps getting weaker and weaker, and he’s stronger than I’ve ever seen him, so it may take all of us.”
Merlin regarded him for a long moment. I almost thought I could see the wheels turning in his head as he evaluated the situation. The longer he stared at Owen, the redder Owen turned. Finally Merlin said,
“You seem to have taken care of the planning for us. It’s a good thing you were here in advance to set everything up.”
“Yes, I suppose it is, sir,” Owen said with a totally straight face.
“What’s all this conspiring?” a voice said from the doorway. We all turned to see Granny standing there, leaning on her cane and glaring at us. Before I could introduce her, she caught sight of Merlin and smiled. “Well, hello there,” she said. “And who might you be?”
“Uh, Granny,” I said, “this is my boss, Mr. Ambrose Mervyn.”
“Ah, Merlin,” she said with a nod. “It’s good to know you’re back. You’re not here to do anything foolish like put Arthur back on the throne, are you? I doubt he’d fit in well in a constitutional monarchy.”
“That is purely legend. Arthur is well and truly permanently dead,” he said with a smile.
I was still goggling over my grandmother talking about constitutional monarchies, so it took me a moment to remember to introduce her. “Sir, this is my grandmother, Bridget Callahan. And Granny, over there is my friend Rod.”
“My good lady,” Merlin said as he took her hand and kissed it, and she blushed and tittered like a schoolgirl. For a man his age, he was quite distinguished-looking, maybe even handsome, and he was probably the only person I knew who was older than Granny, although he was more than a thousand years older, so I could see how that might make her a little flustered. “You have a lovely granddaughter.”
She turned to me. “I suppose you’re up to more magical mischief making, with this new lot here.”
