The Magick of Merlin by Charlotte E. English

of the book, its purported provenance, and to whom it had been sold. It hadn’t mentioned who had sold it, and when I had called the auction house to find out, they’d claimed they no longer had access to those records. Considering we were at a distance of some decades from that sale, that was probably even true. There had been no reports on the theft. The Elvyngs had kept that one very quiet. Why? I heard the heavy clunk of one of the library’s ancient brass doorknobs turning, and the door to the main reading-room swung open. Jay stood upon the threshold, eyes wide. ‘Hi,’ I said, beaming. Jay stared at me like I was some kind of apparition. ‘What?’ I said. ‘How did I get here?’ ‘You… were expecting to end up somewhere else?’ Jay released the door, and composed himself. ‘Actually, yes,’ he said, ambling in. ‘I’ve just left my room.’ So he’d expected to find the usual panelled passageway beyond, and instead had been neatly whisked straight downstairs. ‘House thinks you should visit us,’ I suggested. ‘I was thinking the same thing!’ It struck me that he was looking unusually smart. His beloved leather jacket was nowhere in sight; instead he wore a pair of neatly-pressed navy trousers and a matching jacket, with a white shirt underneath. Not a suit, but a far cry from jeans and leather. ‘Been somewhere interesting?’ I said, having looked him thoroughly up and down. ‘Police station.’ ‘What?’ He grinned. ‘I went voluntarily.’ ‘Jay, you’re the last person I’d suspect of getting yours