I was pissed off when I saw that Miller was actually Merlin or the other way around, but my anger passed to be replaced with caution. I had hardly been aware of my tingling neck in all the excitement, but now that it began to fade, I made a mental note to watch for it in the future. It seemed to be an early wizard warning device.
Everyone stared at me in stunned silence. The way they cheered at the charlatan's smoke-and-mirrors spectacle led me to believe Merlin was a celebrity here and perhaps even a hero, and I had just called him a son of a b***h.
“Begging your pardon, sir," said the page at my elbow. “What strange tongue did utter from your lips?"
Relief, followed by confidence, washed over me at the boy's question. I had spouted out in English. “Don't mind me, lad," I replied. “I'
