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He scrunched his eyes into a wince and groaned slightly. “I have a splitting headache. What happened?”
“You overloaded Ramsay’s power draw,” James said.
“Did it work?”
“Quite well,” Merlin said. “The building still stands. Ivor Ramsay has no magical power left. He’s completely burned out. There also seems to have been a similar effect on Phelan Idris.”
“Remind me never to do that again.” Owen finally opened his eyes, then shut them quickly against the light. He wriggled into a sitting position, and Gloria rushed to adjust the pillows for him.
“If we are fortunate, another situation like that will not arise during your lifetime,” Merlin said.
The longer Owen was awake, the more he looked like his usual self. There was even some color returning to his cheeks. He glanced around the room, giving each of us a faint smile, then he suddenly frowned. “Wait, who are you?” he asked Rod. “You look familiar, but…”
“Amnesia?” Rod asked.
“Rod? What happened to you?”
“I don’t think he sees your illusion,” I said, getting a queasy feeling in my stomach.
Merlin frowned and placed a hand on Owen’s forehead, like he was checking for fever. “Odd,” he said. “Try to do a spell—something simple and non-taxing.”
Owen frowned and shook his head as his forehead creased in concern. “Nothing’s coming. I can’t find the power.” His voice wavered ever so slightly.
Then Merlin did something with his hands and asked, “What do you see?”
“Nothing.” Owen half closed his eyes, like he was running an internal diagnostic on himself. “Wait a second, there’s no magic at all.”
“What does this mean?” I asked.
“It means he’s lost all magic,” Merlin said, looking somber. “Not only can he not do it, it doesn’t affect him.”
The greatest wizard of his generation, now utterly without magic? It was a tragedy that didn’t seem to have yet sunk in for Owen, who looked rather shell-shocked. I wanted to cry, hug him, and kiss him, all at the same time. Since I was in a room with his parents and our boss, I settled for blinking away tears. I wasn’t even sure what I was crying about. I’d meant what I said when I told him I didn’t care whether or not he was a wizard. I supposed I was crying for his loss.
“I am most grateful,” Merlin said, his voice rough enough that it sounded like he was fighting back his own tears. “I do not think I could have continued defending myself while Ramsay drew power that way.”
Owen tried for a smile that came out lopsided. “At least they can’t be afraid of me or accuse me of trying to take over the world,” he said, just a little too enthusiastically, like he was forcing himself to put a brave face on the situation.
*
Owen came home a couple of days later—that is, he went to James and Gloria’s house. He was up and around but still shaky enough that he let Gloria fuss over him. I suspected he rather enjoyed the maternal attention, and there was no doubt that Gloria thoroughly enjoyed finally being able to fuss over him openly. Most of the time, it seemed like he didn’t notice the lack of magic, since he seldom used it away from work, but every so often he’d move a hand ever so slightly, then blink and wince when nothing happened. He didn’t talk about it, though, and I wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed calm enough, but I suspected he was still in shock.
Merlin came by a couple of days after that to report that Ramsay had been given a lifetime sentence, while Idris was being exiled from the magical world. “And all charges have been completely dropped against you,” he told Owen. “Including the escape and evasion charges.”
Owen nodded. “That’s good to hear. I wasn’t looking forward to being a fugitive.”
I smiled more than the joke was probably worth, but it was good to see his dry sense of humor returning.
“Did you have any particular plans for the future?” Merlin asked him.
Owen shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it. I know immunes are rare enough that you still need me, but I’m not sure I’d want to work in Verification.”
“Believe me, you don’t,” I muttered.
“Yes, magical immunes are rare, but what you are is unprecedented,” Merlin said. “I have not known of a magical immune who was fully trained as a wizard, and that may be incredibly valuable. You see, we have in our vaults some magical works that are so potentially dangerous that we cannot allow anyone with any magical ability to so much as read them. But you have the expertise to decipher them and understand what they might mean, with no risk of accidentally enacting any of the spells they contain.”
He’d said words more magical than any spell. Owen’s eyes lit up. “You mean the Codex Ephemera?” he asked breathlessly. “I thought that was just a legend. And you want me to read it?”
“If you are interested.”
