No Quest for the Wicked
hundred years old while looking twenty-two—and instead of wearing expensive-looking clothes and a trench coat, he wore a faded War Games T-shirt and baggy jeans with an unzipped hooded sweatshirt. The points of his ears stuck up through messy hair. He looked more like a geeky college student dressed up as an elf for a science fiction convention than like an actual elf. I was tempted to see if the points of his ears came off.
    If the elves were mad at Merlin for taking away their special effects, they didn’t show it. They still posed as though the spotlight was on them. They seemed to be having a staring contest with Merlin to see who would blink first—or speak first. I wasn’t sure if it was a defeat or a victory when Merlin finally said, “Sylvester, what brings you here?”
    The head elf did blink at that. I got the impression that he and Merlin had never met and that Merlin wasn’t supposed to know his name. “I heard Merlin had returned,” he said. “You are he?”
    “I am.”
    “Oh.”
    And then a wave of magic so strong it made the little hairs on my arms stand at attention swept the room, going back and forth between Merlin and Sylvester. It didn’t feel angry or vicious, more like a testing. A nimbus formed around Merlin, making him glow and blur ever so slightly. As soon as it appeared, one like it developed around Sylvester. Suddenly, all the magic stopped. Merlin and Sylvester appeared entirely unruffled, but I felt like I had to catch my breath. Owen’s gasp next to me reassured me that I wasn’t the only one.
    “You are Merlin,” Sylvester said.
    “Why, yes, I believe I said that earlier,” Merlin replied with a thin smile. “Do come in and have a seat. Would you care for a sandwich?”
    The three elves swept across the room. Sylvester and Lyle took seats at the conference table, leaving the third elf to stand behind them, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. There were plenty of seats, so there was no reason for him to stand. “Go ahead and have a seat,” I told him, giving him a welcoming smile.
    “He doesn’t need a seat,” Sylvester said sharply, making the poor guy flinch. Then Sylvester narrowed his eyes at me. “I recognize Palmer, but who is she?”
    “Miss Chandler works for me,” was all Merlin said. “Now, was there something you wanted to discuss? I hear your people have been trying to find the Knot of Arnhold, which has been inconveniently bonded with the Eye of the Moon.”
    “Yes, that has been on the agenda today,” Sylvester agreed, smiling thinly. “As you have been seeking the Eye of the Moon.”
    “That is rather a priority for us. You see, I remember the last time it was free in the world. Several wars began, killing thousands. I would prefer that not happen again. And why is it that you seek the Knot?”
    “Because it belongs to me,” the elf lord said through gritted teeth. “It was stolen from my people.”
    “There’s no other reason, then?” Merlin asked mildly. “You wouldn’t be planning to use it to gain invulnerability for yourself in, say, a power struggle?”
    Sylvester gave another thin smile. “I have no immediate plans to use it. It is merely part of the traditional regalia of my office. Does the queen of England have a practical use for the crown jewels?”
    “The crown jewels don’t have magical powers,” I muttered under my breath.
    “Not anymore,” Owen whispered in response.
    I made a mental note to follow up on that later as the conversation between Sylvester and Merlin intensified. “I’m more concerned about your plans for the Eye,” Sylvester said. “As you said, it is very dangerous.”
    “My plan is to destroy it or neutralize it so it can do no more harm,” Merlin said.
    Sylvester raised an eyebrow and smirked. “So you say now, but would you really be able to do that once you had it in your possession? I could imagine how tempting ultimate power would be for you. After all, you do need to

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