I wasn’t sure quite what to expect, since nothing in the magical world ever turned out to be what I expected. Robes would have been a good guess, maybe with stars and moons on them, like something out of a storybook, or maybe just solid black, like judges’ robes. Tall, pointy hats would have been appropriately magical. In short, they should have looked like Merlin’s “Merlin” outfit.
Instead, it pretty much looked like a city council meeting, aside from the Old World setting. The Council members wore regular business attire, but with elaborate chains of office draped over their shoulders and floppy beret-like hats, like some faculty members wear for college graduation ceremonies. I was surprised when Merlin was the last one to enter. He paused to shut the door before taking a seat on that end of the table. I hadn’t realized he was also on the Council, but it did make sense, given his position in MSI, which was the commercial arm of the magical establishment, as well as the fact of who he was. They couldn’t possibly have a magical council without Merlin being on it. His being an actual Council member explained why Ramsay rankled him so much with all his talk about being privy to what was going on with the Council. I scanned the faces of the wizards on the Council to get a sense of the people sitting in judgment, but Merlin was the only who looked familiar or friendly.
The feeling of magical power in the room intensified, and I got the impression the entire room was being put under a spell. That was confirmed when the man sitting in the middle seat stood, pounded a carved staff as tall as he was on the floor, and said, “This room is now sealed. No one may enter or leave until the proceedings are concluded, except by special escort, and the world outside is now separated from us. No one outside may observe or listen to these proceedings, and those inside may not speak of them outside these walls.”
Well, except for me. And Ethan, I couldn’t help but think. I wondered if they’d bother with an oath to hold us to that or if they even realized there were magical immunes in the room.
“This meeting of the North American Magical Council is now in session,” the wizard in the middle said with another strike of his staff on the floor. A large ceremonial gavel sat on the table in front of him, but it looked like the staff was the real sign of power. I’m sure Freud would have had something to say about that. “There has been a request to add an agenda item: A petition from Mr. Ivor Ramsay to grant a seat on this Council to the chairman of Spellworks and to reconsider the MSI seat, as that organization has failed to provide proper leadership to the magical world. We will address that issue after we deal with the primary matter that brings us together today. Now, bring in the accused.” He pounded his staff again.
There was a shimmer in the air around the doors beside the Council’s table, and then the doors opened. The black-clad men came in, guiding Owen by the elbow. He was dressed in a dark suit, and if his hands hadn’t been bound behind his back, he’d have looked like he was having just another day at the office. Even the dark circles under his eyes were all in a day’s work for him.
They brought Owen to stand in the middle of the circle in front of the elevated table, and he looked very young and very small with the Council looming over him. I’d seen what he could do using magic, and I still didn’t think anyone could imagine him to be a threat given the way he looked. The crowd murmured, like they were discussing Owen’s appearance, and I hoped they, too, thought he looked harmless. I felt Gloria tense next to me. She reached to take my hand and clutched it fiercely.
Merlin stared Owen down with a glare that made me squirm uncomfortably, and it wasn’t even aimed at me. Owen seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at Merlin, but that wasn’t the kind of glare you could ignore for long. Even if he didn’t see it, he had to feel it. Once he finally caught Owen’s eye, Merlin’s expression changed. His lips moved ever so slightly, but I couldn’t make out any words. I couldn’t see Owen’s face to get a sense of what he was doing, but his head nodded a fraction of an inch before he turned away from Merlin. I got the feeling that something had been communicated between them, but I wasn’t sure how. They both had a tendency toward eerie knacks, but I’d never heard about either of them being able to communicate telepathically.
The head wizard peered through his reading glasses at a sheet of paper he held and said, “Owen Morgan.”
“Palmer,” Owen corrected, in a voice that rang through the room. “My legal name is Palmer. I was adopted by Stan and Lisa Palmer when I was an infant. Their parental rights were terminated and I eventually became a ward of this Council, but my name was never legally changed. As far as I know, there is no proof of my parents being the Morgans. That is merely an allegation. I have no record of who my birth parents were.” That was one upside of not having had the chance to get that envelope from the fire station, I thought. He could say with absolute honesty that he didn’t know his parentage.