"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.