One Good Wand

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One Good Wand Page 40

by Grace McGuiness


  “This ruse will not work,” the nymph said, tucking the phone back into his pocket mid-video. “His magic cannot help you here, Godmother. Not if he wishes to remain on the right side of the Rules.”

  I looked from one man to the other, my heart beating hard in my chest, my legs itching to run. No amount of explanation would help clear the confusion clouding my brain, but stalling sounded like a good idea. “What do you mean?” I asked, all full of faux innocence.

  “This territory belongs to your employer. Unless I am mistaken - and I doubt, given her general dislike of the Family, that I am - she hasn’t given him permission to use his magic within her realm. Which means while he remains inside this factory, he’s as mundane as your drooling sub-human here.” He nudged Mueller with his toe. “And so are you, Miss Hargitay.”

  My eyes paused in narrowing with anger to glance at the nymph. No, he was definitely telling the truth. Or at least he thought he was. It was there in the arrogance of his jaw, the rigid lines of his shoulders. “So then how is it you are allowed, Mr. Snobbypants?”

  “Egeus,” he corrected with a hiss. “You will address me by my name or by my title.” He ran his long fingers over his tie, seemingly unaware that it was now an inch or two shorter. “Lines of jurisdiction don’t apply to members of the Folk Council or their departments. WHIRA agents are allowed wherever we are needed.” His fingers looked ready to throw some lightning at the Chisel; the sneer tugging up one side of his face told me he’d relish it.

  “I think Snobbypants is a suitable title,” the Chisel said.

  “Said the mushroom to the toadstool,” Egeus snapped. “Your whole Family should be thrown in prison. I don’t know of a single one of you who isn’t flexible with the Rules to the point of illegality. And yet you treat everyone around you as if they are the wrong-doers simply for being born with the wrong bloodline. Shameful.” Electricity danced up his arm, building to a charge.

  “Perhaps,” the Chisel answered, his shoulders set and his head canted at what could only be described as a haughty angle, even from behind. “But at least we are our own masters, and not poor little nymphs forever shackled to those who hold our homes.”

  Egeus snarled. “I am not a minion!” The built up electricity exploded forward, aiming directly for the Chisel’s heart. At the same moment, my would-be protector made a motion with his hand that I assumed was the signal for me to run.

  I ignored him like the stubborn Hargitay I was.

  In a blink, faster than I realized I could move, I was around the Chisel’s stoic form, my hands out in front of me, my magic rippling forward. Electricity on a gust of storm wind met with purple…whatever it was, arcing from one wall to the other. The biggest of the machines beyond the fire doors churned on, the Ogre’s deep growl rattling inside my bones like the purr of an enormous, familiar cat—a cat that had tried to kill me when we first met. On the other side of the purple haze, Egeus’s face was a mask of shock and surprise.

  “You run,” I said to the Chisel, already panting with the effort of maintaining my shield. “Upstairs. The only door before you get to reception. There’s a safe space in front of it. Go, before I lose my strength.”

  “I’m not leaving—”

  “I have a plan. Now go!” It felt good to be able to say that to someone else for once.

  The Chisel leapt to the stairs like a twenty-year-old hurdler and was out of sight by the time sweat trickled down my hairline.

  “So I was wrong about your employer’s trust in you. That does not change that you are untrained, untalented, and a criminal.” Egeus pressed me backward, his power bearing down on mine like a grizzly wrestling a half-starved wolf.

  “Maybe,” I panted. “But I have home court advantage.” With that, I whirled to the left, pulling my magic with me as I went. I fumbled with the heavy fire door once, but then it opened enough to let me slide through. I was counting on being followed, not that he would use Mueller as bait. Thankfully, I was right. I was halfway down the closest aisle when the fire door slammed open behind me.

  Without looking back, I ran pell-mell across the factory floor, dodging a furiously pumping fizzy whizzbang and sliding into the machine beyond it. My hip burst into sharp pain, but I ignored it.

  “You have nowhere to run that I cannot follow, Miss Hargitay. You are only delaying the inevitable and further proving your guilt.” Egeus’s voice must have been magically amplified because I had no problem hearing him over the clanking, whirring, and general ruckus of the machines.

  There it was, twenty feet ahead. Fifteen. Ten. Behind me, I felt the air warm. Don’t look back, I ordered myself. Bad things always happened to people who looked back. This might not be a movie, but it seemed like solid advice.

  With a last-second burst of speed, I grabbed the edge of the Ogre’s conveyor belt and slid underneath just as a gust of hot wind slammed into it. A disembodied plastic pony head crashed into my shoulder. It wouldn’t have hurt except that I took the earpoints to the neck as I sat up. I ducked, threw myself forward, and army crawled to the cement pylon at the center of the machine’s space. The same place Mueller and I had squeezed together the first time we’d met. Don’t be dead, I wished at him. Then, with a deep breath, I focused on the Ogre.

  “With all the stealth of corporate sabotage,” I recited, “come apart again for my new entourage.”

  I didn’t see the magic work. There was no bubble, no shooting star. Not even a wave of purple magic to tell me if I was just babbling silly rhymes. I held my breath, wishing as much as waiting.

  And then it happened. The roaring, screeching, clanking sound that had been my introduction to the Fairytale Endings factory shook the room all around me. The conveyor belt collapsed. Bolts and screws shot out like bullets. The avalanche of metal and mechanical parts rolled from one end of the Ogre to the other as the machine came apart at every seam possible.

  A jolt of electricity shot through me, shivering through my heart painfully before it was gone.

  And then all was silent. No machine rumbled. No voice spoke. Only the dust of cement and steel filings moved.

  I waited for seven heartbeats before I let myself ease out of the small hidey hole. I couldn’t see any farther in here than I had been able to out in the field, but at least this time I knew there was no danger left. At least not until Egeus found me.

  I picked my way carefully through the rubble, pretty sure Mueller was going to kill me when he woke up. If he woke up. I tried not to think about it as I climbed over the remainder of the conveyor belt. The going was slow, but eventually I made it to the exit doors. I pushed through, let them close, and perused the hallway. Mueller’s form was gone. I hoped because he had gotten up and walked away, but I didn’t have time to wonder.

  Across from me, the door to the janitor’s closet stood ajar. Instead of the shelves of cleaning supplies that had been there before, the small space housed an intricately carved circular staircase. I stuck my head inside the closet and peered up. It led to a door on the second floor.

  I padded up the first couple of stairs, listening to the wooden creaks made by my shoes in the ringing silence. And then I heard something else. Not a dangerous sound. A twinkle, like dainty wind chimes in a slight breeze. I had heard that sound before, back when the world was normal and I was just looking for a job to be able to pay my bills. Back when I was normal. Mundane. Broke, angsty, but responsible only for myself. If only I could go back there…

  I found myself peering into Maysie’s - now Ms. Zent’s - office without realizing I had climbed the rest of the stairs and opened the door. It was as uninviting and dark as it had been the last time, except no fire lit the hearth. The chimes sounded again. From the far corner. In the wall. The door to the hidden stair closed behind me, creating a seamless surface as if no door ever existed.

  I stood in front of that wall, thinking maybe there was another hidden panel with a private phone, a way to call for help. I could use the phone, but who would I call? May
be Maysie had installed an emergency line, or a way to contact other godmothers quickly. It was a long shot - I was probably grasping at straws - but it was all I had. I couldn’t best Egeus. The Chisel couldn’t use his magic. And Ms. Zent, for all that she had promised to help, was nowhere to be seen. Before I stepped inside the file room and possibly never came out again, I needed to exhaust all possibilities.

  I touched every spot on the wall I could, but it did nothing. No panel opened. No light flashed. I couldn’t even figure out how to reopen the door. The chimes kept playing, twinkling happily as if a crazy nymph wasn’t stalking me.

  Wand, a voice whispered, sounding a million miles away and possibly underwater. Use your wand, silly girl.

  I didn’t appreciate being called silly, but I also wasn’t in a position to argue. The wand felt much heavier than usual as I pulled it from my pocket. Only then did I realize I hadn’t used it for any of the magic downstairs. Was I getting better? Or was it just the threat of incarceration that fueled it? Either way, I apparently needed the wand now.

  I raised the source of all my suffering to the wall and tapped it. Immediately, the wand’s tip glimmered like a star and turned the wall white.

  Come through, the voice beckoned. It won’t hurt you.

  “Said every trap ever,” I muttered, but I was out of options. Whatever this was, it belonged to Maysie, not WHIRA. I knew that as surely as I knew the wand from a sea of mimics.

  I stepped through.

  The white light engulfed me, blinding me for an instant with its brilliance. On the other side, I blinked to clear stars from my vision and marveled. I had stepped through into…nothing. Everything around me was the same white-gold as the magic that emanated from the wand, except there wasn’t exactly a thing, at all. Just white-gold space stretching as far as I could see. Everywhere but behind me, where the door was. I could see the office through it, looking chilly and dark and depressing compared to the white, shimmering expanse around me.

  The chime sounded again, this time causing a ripple in the light. No, not the light. There was a thing here, an object of substance. I crossed to a marble plinth that blended into the light and stared into the delicate basin atop it. The chime rippled the surface of the golden liquid in the basin. Without thinking, I touched the wand to it and held my breath.

  Maysie’s smiling face coalesced out of the gold. “Tessa, my dear! I have been trying for ages to get your attention. At least, I think it’s been a while. Time has little meaning here. No matter. There are things we must discuss.”

  Emotions swirled through me with a great deal more darkness and stormy portent than the liquid in the basin. Anger. Frustration. Rage. Joy. Relief. Back to anger. “You have a lot to answer for,” I growled, channeling Mueller. “You destroyed my life. My mom fell under a sleeping curse, and I had to fix it, entirely without your help. You made me a godmother. A godmother! Without my permission, I might add. And then you vanished. Just disappeared. Retired without so much as a ‘Good night, Tessa, sleep well. This life will most likely kill you in the morning.’”

  “Trapped,” she snapped, her voice rippling the liquid’s surface.

  “What?” I said, more than a little annoyed she had interrupted my tirade.

  “I was trapped by a former apprentice. I did not retire. And to be technical, you gave me permission when you signed the contract. It isn’t my fault you chose not to read the fine print.” She pressed her cat’s eye glasses up her nose. “But none of that is important. There is something bigger on the horizon, Tessa, and I need you to free me so we can stop it. Together. No one else in the world can do that.”

  There it was. My dream, coming back to haunt me. Except this time, I was pretty certain I was awake. “No.”

  Now it was her turn to stop short. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I am one person. One sad, pathetic person. Sure, I managed to get Amy to her fairytale, but that was luck and a lot of bumbling and coincidence. I am not going to save the world.”

  Maysie’s hazel eyes, both warm and intelligent and cold and calculating at the same time, surveyed my face. “Then everything you know and love will cease to exist. Your mother. Your friends. You.”

  “Then we’re all in a lot of trouble, because I’m quitting just as soon as the paperwork goes through.” When had I completely changed my mind? Probably about the time the dragon was frying us all up for supper.

  Her face softened, and the golden light glinted off the pity in her eyes. “The paperwork will never go through, Tessa.”

  Panic squeezed my chest. “Yes it will. Sabine promised me she would help…” If I gave her the wand. Which I hadn’t done…

  “No godmother ever goes back. Not to being a mundane. No magic in the world is strong enough to do that, not anymore. We’ve diluted it too far with…” She sighed and shook her head. “That’s not important right now. The most important part is that you free me. I see you have my wand. That’s good. Thank you for keeping it safe. Now you must use it to locate my prison and break me out. I promise I will explain everything then. This connection won’t hold much longer.”

  “I haven’t kept it safe,” I argued, tears threatening to overcome me. The idea that Sabine had lied to me wasn’t nearly as disappointing as finding out I was stuck in this insane life as surely as Shorty had been in the dragon mucous. “There’s a nymph in the factory who’s going to throw me in prison and take it no matter what I do. I think I just destroyed all of your machines just to buy myself a little more time.”

  “Silly girl,” she said again. “Didn’t you read my letter?”

  “Of course. But just so you know, directions would have been a lot better. ‘Dear Tessa, you’re a godmother! Here’s what you do…’”

  “Do you perhaps recall the part where I said that as long as the wand is in your possession, no one will be able to find it?”

  I blinked, stupidity superseding all other emotions. “I vaguely remember something like that…maybe…”

  She smiled, but not like I was an idiot. Silly, yes. Young, absolutely. “It’s an old spell, one I learned from my mentor, back when WHIRA was first being founded. A godmother’s wand is a part of her, Tessa. No one should ever be allowed to take it away, any more than they have a right to one’s eye or arm just to ensure they don’t shoot an innocent someday. I borrowed… No. The how of it isn’t important. All you need to know is that no one who looks for it will find it, so do not give it to the agent and all will be well.”

  “But he wants to arrest me because I look like I’m using a wand, or something. I don’t think he cares if I give it to him or not.”

  She snorted out a sigh. “Those government fools are growing too big for their britches.” She muttered more under her breath, then looked at me and said, “There are rules you must use to outwit him. The rules that govern all magic—”

  “Sabine gave me a copy. Well, she left it on the floor of a bar, but I assume she meant for me to have it.”

  “She always was a classy thing,” Maysie said, her sarcasm clear even across the golden liquid. “All you have to do is—” The liquid rippled like a helicopter was trying to land in it.

  I grabbed the edges of the basin and leaned closer, as if I could shield it. “Maysie?”

  “Tessa…have to…then…” The basin went smooth, then rippled again. “File from 1967…Haynes…will help…call…number…”

  “Maysie!” I shouted at the liquid as it went silent again. “Come back! I still don’t know what to do…”

  But she was already gone. Whatever magic the basin used had fizzled out. The connection had been severed.

  “Shit,” I said, feeling that pretty much summed up everything.

  Outside in the office, I heard a distant voice call, “Relinquish yourself, Miss Hargitay, or I will take the mundane in your place!”

  Chapter 35

  The wall to the communication…’room’ wasn’t exactly the right word, but I had nothing else to call it. Light space?
Whatever it was called, the wall sealed itself back up as if there was nothing to see the second I stepped through it. My brain was working so hard today, I felt like sleeping for a month wouldn’t restore its flexibility. Not giving up the wand was easy enough, but how was I supposed to outwit the nymphs? If Egeus had Mueller, what choice did I have but to give myself up?

  “Forget about me, Tessa, and save yourself!” Mueller yelled.

  I slid against the wall beside the office door and peered out. Reception was still empty. They must be waiting for me in front of the file room.

  Easing out of the office, I left the door wide open. Ms. Zent’s wrath was the least of my worries right then. For a brief, insane moment, I considered moving the creepy, tentacled plant I had previously hidden behind with me down the hall. As if I could use it as a moveable hiding place. But this wasn’t a video game. If the a-hole nymph hurt Mueller, I didn’t get a do-over. No second life to try again. Game over, Godmother. And for all his a-hole flaws, Egeus wasn’t as stupid as a video game mob.

  Still, I was supposed to outwit him. With the Rules. Those things I had spent so many hours studying to be sure I got Amy’s fairytale ending right. The rules I could no longer remember, thanks to fear and adrenaline and the fact that the only person I could really call my friend was about to go to fairytale prison in my place.

  Get it together, Hargitay.

  I took a deep breath, pressed my shoulders back, and tried to fake the confidence I was definitely not feeling. I stepped out of the hallway and into the open space in front of the file room. The Chisel stood in front of the door, protected by the spell surrounding my space. Mueller wasn’t so lucky. He stood at wand-point in front of Egeus, who looked like he’d been under one of the machines when it collapsed. His blond hair was no longer pristine, and his perfect skin was marred with yellow-tinted scrapes and gashes. Maybe it was wrong of me, but my stomach gremlin purred with pride.

 

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