“If I were a witch who meant harm, you would be dead,” Lila said.

“You wouldn’t be the first witch to think so,” Emrys returned. “If you are from the future, tell me of it. Make me believe you.”

“You won’t believe anything you don’t want to.”

“Try me.”

So Lila recounted what she knew of British history as best as she could. Emrys nodded in all the right places, asked intelligent questions. When he asked of the Moors, Lila told him of the Persian Empire, and she told him of China as well.

“Either you are a fantastic liar, for being able to invent so much,” Emrys said, “or there is truth to your words.”

“So you believe me?”

“Perhaps,” Emrys said, and then, “kiss me.”

Lila blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But…you’re Merlin. The greatest magician of all time, and for you to retain your power you must remain…pure, right?” Lila had read it in a book somewhere.

Emrys’ arm at her waist tightened, and this was it, she’d angered him, he was going to kill her – and then she realized he was laughing.