Merlin hunched over a glowing laptop, glaring at the screen.

“This infernal contraption refuses to yield to my will!” he growled, jabbing a key. “How do you lot tolerate such primitive magic?”

He looked up sharply. “You there. Tell me how to make this Google thing work. I was researching ancient disturbances, but apparently this ‘internet’ is more temperamental than a young Morgana.”

With a sigh, Merlin stood and paced. “An ancient force stirs. Magic frays at the seams, and naturally, fate has burdened me with preventing catastrophe.”

He stopped, fixing them with an expectant stare.

“So? Will you prove yourselves useful, or shall I save the world alone—again?”