The man raised a dubious eyebrow, but Marci was thinking too fast to care. Translation magic was one of the hottest fields in Thaumaturgical spellwork. She’d actually tried her hand at a few versions herself, but like everyone else, she’d never been able to crack the problem of how to make the translated words sound natural. Just as with its computer-based counterparts, magically translated speech lost its intonation and inflection, emerging emotionless and wooden, but not this one. Other than the short delay between when the man spoke and when the words were whispered into Marci’s ear, it really did sound as though he were speaking native English, which was incredible. If she could figure out how it worked, a patent on a translation spell like this would be enough to set her up for life!
Assuming, of course, she ever got back to being alive.
That realization knocked the dollar signs out of her eyes, and Marci pulled herself back together. “Sorry,” she said, standing up straight to dazzle him with her most professional smile. “I’m Marci Caroline Novalli, PhD candidate in Socratic Thaumaturgy at the University of Nevada Las Vegas and partner to the Empty Wind, Spirit of the Forgotten Dead. I’m here to pass through the gate and join you as a Merlin.”
“Humans do not come here for any other reason,” the man said dryly. “But I am not a Merlin.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Merlins are human,” he explained. “Humans are mortal, and there is no mortal who could wait out the centuries it would take before this door opened again. Knowing this, Abe no Seimei, Onmyoji to the Emperor and head of the Last Circle of the Merlins, and his partner, Inari Okami, God of Prosperity, bound me here to serve as guardian for their greatest work and guide to any who came after.”
Marci nodded slowly, eyes going wide. Abe no Seimei was a Japanese sorcerer and one of the world’s most famous ancient mages. Finding out he’d also been a Merlin wasn’t actually surprising, but the rest of it…
“What do you mean ‘bound you?’” she asked in a rush. “Are you a spirit or—”
“Of course not,” the man said, insulted. “No spirit may enter this place without a Merlin. I am a shikigami.”
“What’s a shikigami?”
“A crafted servant,” Amelia whispered in her ear. “A spell so complicated, it develops a personality and decision-making abilities of its own.”
“They could do that?!” Marci cried. “Because you just described magical AI, and no one’s done that yet!”
Amelia shrugged. “I keep telling you, modern mages haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of the magical knowledge you lost during the drought. Shikigami summoning used to be an entire school of Taoist magic, and Abe no Seimei was the grand master.” She grinned at the young man. “What did he name you?”
“I am bound by the characters White, Iron, and Truth,” the shikigami said politely. “But you may call me Shiro.”
Amelia turned back to Marci with athere you gosmirk. Marci grinned back maniacally, bouncing on her toes in excitement. After so long scratching at the edges of lost knowledge, she was about to walk right into the Shangri La of lost magical secrets. “Well then, Shiro,” she said happily, stepping forward. “Let’s get this—”
She cut off with a gasp. The moment she’d tried to cross the threshold from the dark, chaotic sea into the light, something hit her with enough force to send Marci tumbling backward. If Ghost hadn’t still been holding on to her hand, she would have been blown right out into the void.
“What was that?” she cried as her spirit set her back on her feet.
“What you may not cross,” Shiro replied, his voice no longer polite. “You have made it to the gate, but only those souls who are deemed worthy may enter.”
“Deemed worthy by whom?” Marci demanded. “You? Do you know what I went through to get here?”
“No more than any other Merlin,” he said. “But I do not make the decision. I am but a servant. The judgment of your worth lies with the Heart of the World.”
“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s that?”
“You will find out when you become a Merlin.”
Marci felt like punching something. “I already died for this! What more do I have to do?”
“Anyone can die,” Shiro said dismissively. “But becoming a Merlin is not as easy as falling into a grave. It is a privilege reserved for those whose dedication stretches beyond the boundaries of their lives. Mages are no strangers to power, but Merlins make decisions that affectallmagic, not just their own. That much authority can only be entrusted to someone who keeps in mind the needs of all. Only a true champion of humanity may rise to claim the title of Merlin. Until you prove yourself as one such to the Heart of the World, you may not enter.”
Marci supposed that was fair. Merlins were supposed to be the greatest mages in existence. That kind of power couldn’t go to just anyone.
“Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “You want us to prove ourselves again? Give us your best shot. Ghost and I will ace any test you can think of.”
“Undoubtedly,” the shikigami said, peering into the void that was the Empty Wind’s face. “You’ve certainly chosen a grim spirit, but you seem well bonded despite that. Ordinarily, I’d say you have a very good chance, but I’m afraid I cannot permit you to attempt the trials.”
“Why not?” Marci demanded.
The shikigami’s emotionless eyes slid to Amelia, who was still clinging to Marci’s shoulder. “Because, as I said, Merlins are champions of humanity, and no true champion of humanity would arrive at the Merlin Gate on a predator’s string.”
“What?” Marci said, glancing at Amelia, who cringed. “No, no, you’ve got this all wrong. Amelia’s not like that. She likes humans.”
