Wolf snorted. “Why am I not surprised to see you take her side, carrion eater?”
“Because I’m always on the right side of history, deer-breath,” Raven snapped back, turning his beady eyes to glare at the rest of the spirits hiding in Wolf’s shadow. “I was there when this human became the new Merlin, and I can tell you that she did so by fighting for us. Sir Myron Rollins, whom I know you’re all familiar with, wanted to seal everything up again. Marci’s the one who stopped him. If it weren’t for her, we’d all be stuck down here asleep again while the Leviathan ate our world at his leisure.”
“And we’re supposed to just believe you?” Vann Jeger growled. “Trust the trickster?”
“Yes,” Raven said, fluffing his feathers. “Because unlike you lot, I didn’t panic and surrender all of my authority to Algonquin. I kept my magic and thought for myself, which means I’ve been paying attention to this since it started. I’ve seen the Leviathan with my own eyes on this side and the other, and if you think there will be anything left of this world once he’s done, you’re all idiots.”
Wolf scowled. “Algonquin said—”
“Algonquin sold us out!” Raven squawked. “You saw her beg for your magic. You knew how far she’d fallen. Now she’s let her irrational hatred of Mortal Spirits do what nothing else in the universe could. She’s let it kill her, and she’s going to get the rest of us killed as well if we don’t do something.”
“And this Merlin knows how to stop that?” asked the red man.
“I think she does,” Raven said, turning his head to peer at the Mortal Spirit. “You’re awful rational for someone covered in blood. Which spirit are you?”
“I don’t know,” the man confessed, looking down at his gory hands. “I don’t know how I got here or why I’m covered in blood. I don’t even know if it’s my blood or someone else’s. I just…” His voice trailed off as his bloody hands began to shake, and then he raised them to cover his face. “Help me.”
The terrified sorrow in his voice overwhelmed even the metallic knife-scrape sound, and Marci’s heart broke. “We will help,” she promised. “As soon as this crisis is resolved, I’m going to start recruiting and training Merlins. One of them will be yours. Their entire job will be to help you. We can work it out together, all of us.”
She turned back to the gathered spirits. “My ancestors made a huge mistake. We were afraid, and in our fear, we took what was not ours. We stole the magic and locked it away because we knew we could live without it and you couldn’t. That was wrong, and on behalf of all the Merlins—past, future, and present—I am sorry.”
Her words were met with silence. Not angry silence or dismissive silence. Shocked silence. As it stretched, Marci realized with a start that no human had probably ever apologized for the drought. Not before, not during, and not since. But while she was certain one apology wasn’t going to be enough, the silence was the best reaction she’d gotten so far, so Marci kept going.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, lowering her head. “I’d give those years back to you if I could, but all I can do is promise to learn from my ancestors’ mistakes. They let fear push them into doing something incredibly stupid that hurt everyone. Now Algonquin’s doing the same thing on an even bigger scale. She’s let her hate of Mortal Spirits convince her to end everything, including us.” She looked at Wolf. “I know you have good reasons to be angry. The bad blood between the land and animal spirits and the mortal ones stretches back farther than human civilization. It’s impossible to reconcile something that big in one conversation, or even one lifetime, but if dragons and humans can work together for this, surely we can too. I’m not asking for peace or forgiveness. We can work on those later. All I’m asking right now is for you to help me ensure that there is a later, because the world won’t make it another six hours without your help.”
Marci held her breath as she finished. That had been her best shot. If an apology plus the threat of mutual annihilation didn’t change their minds, nothing would. Even Raven seemed nervous, hopping foot to foot on her shoulder as they waited.
“I will help,” said the bloody man, breaking the silence. “I have to survive, or I’ll never find out why I’m like this.”
“I’ll help as well,” said the woman with the nettles. “I don’t know what I do yet, but I will aid you if I can, Marci the Merlin.”
With that, all the Mortal Spirits began to nod. Some of them violently, some awkwardly, as if they still weren’t sure what they were agreeing to. But while many of the Mortal Spirits clearly weren’t all there yet, none of them walked away, which was good enough for her.
The other camp was less optimistic. Now that her eyes had gotten used to the dark, Marci could see just how much smaller the crowd of land and animal spirits was. They were still huge compared to her, but next to looming shadows of the Mortal Spirits, they looked tiny. Small and scared, their dark shapes huddled around Wolf and Vann Jeger, who were still the only two who’d come forward. But while the whispers from their group were angry, Algonquin must have been the only one who was truly willing to die to spite the Mortal Spirits, because a few minutes later, Wolf stepped forward.
“What do you need of us?”
It took everything Marci had not to collapse in relief. “Your magic.”
It didn’t seem possible, but Wolf looked even less pleased. “How much?”
There was no good way to say it, so Marci just spit it out.
“All of it.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before every spirit balked.
“All our magic?” the bloody man cried. “But we just got it back!”
“We’re not giving all of our magic to a mortal!” Vann Jeger yelled at the same time. “What guarantee do we have you won’t keep it and start the drought all over again?”
“Come on,” Marci snapped, glaring at him. “You, of all spirits, should know how much I like being a mage. Do you really think I’d give that up? Give up Ghost?” She scoffed. “No way. And yes, I really do need all of your magic. We’re talking about banishing something as big as Algonquin. That takes world-class power, and in this world, that means you.”
“But how will you use it?” the bloody man asked. “Where will we go?”