"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.

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."



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