Free Agent

by J. C. Nelson

  Please, I thought, please don’t let it be a gnome. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and went around to get Ari. She looked at me with feverish eyes, and I knew we were in trouble. “Grimm, is there a horse-drawn carriage near here? How about a pumpkin? You want me to buy a carpet? Or a cab?”

  He spoke from the driver’s-side mirror. “Blast it. There’s nothing for two miles. You are only six blocks away. Secure transportation for the princess. We don’t have time for delays.”

  Ari took a few steps and nearly collapsed. “Going for help,” I said, and took off at a sprint. I passed three blocks before I found what I was looking for. A bag lady sat by an alleyway, her shopping cart filled with soggy clothing.

  “I’ll give you a thousand dollars,” I said, pulling out my wallet. I’m guessing there was actually closer to twelve hundred there. Grimm always said a load of cash was a more effective tool than a loaded gun. I packed both kinds of heat everywhere. I shoved the money at her and took the cart.

  I hope what she wailed was “Thanks,” but honestly I didn’t care. The front wheel squealed like a dying hamster as I pushed the cart, and it shook from side to side. I ignored it and ran as fast as I could, pushing over people too dumb to get out of the way.

  Back at the car, Evangeline saw me coming and nearly collapsed on the hood in laughter. “Come on, princess. Your chariot awaits.”

  Ari was curled up in a ball on the curb. Grimm questioned her from the mirror. “Are you certain you ate no shellfish? How about egg salad? Potato salad? Did you eat any form of salad?”

  Evangeline scooped up Ari like a sack of rotten potatoes and dumped her into the cart, squashing wet clothing off to the side. I grabbed Ari’s dress and the bottle of wine and we took off again. We ran the whole way to the corner one block from where we’d meet her prince.

  Evangeline grabbed the dress with one hand and put the other around Ari’s waist. She lifted Ari out of the cart and onto the ground, and took her arm. “Come on. We’ll hose your hair down in that salon and I’ll find you a mint to take that lovely vomit scent off your breath.”

  I took the bottle of wine, and got as close as possible. Down the block, at the restaurant, Mihail sat. His table stood at the edge of the sidewalk. The shine looked like dandruff, which actually made me laugh. “It’s eleven thirty-eight,” I said to my reflection as the minutes ticked by. “She ought to be here.”

  “We’ve got a problem,” said Grimm.

  “If that dress doesn’t fit, remember I told her not to eat that chocolate.”

  Grimm connected me to Evangeline, which wasn’t something he normally did. Everything went dark as he connected us more or less mind to mind. It was like whispering into each other’s ears, while having your faces smashed together under a blanket. Evangeline spoke, and I heard it in my ears and through hers at the same time. “It’s like the freaking Exorcist in here. What did you eat, girl? What did you not eat?”

  I hefted the wine bottle. My watch read 11:40.

  “Grimm, I don’t think the human stomach can hold anything else,” said Evangeline, “but she’s barely able to walk. Don’t put anything in her hands you don’t want puked on or dropped or both.”

  “Change of plans,” said Grimm. “Marissa, take the bottle and move. Down the sidewalk, make the connection. “

  “But—” Evangeline and I said at once.

  “Evangeline, bring her out with you and walk along behind her. Marissa, offer him the bottle and tell him you don’t drink. Ari will be happening by, and looking a little faint, and need a place to sit.”

  “We disappear into the woodwork?” I said.

  “Of course,” said Grimm.

  I didn’t wait, I took off, bottle under my arm. As I approached the prince’s table I made sure to give the wine an “exactly why do I have this thing?” look. I smiled and caught his eye. Just for a moment, really. He looked at my face long enough to be certain it wasn’t interesting, let his gaze ooze down my chest, and found something truly appealing: the wine.

  “Ah,” he said, recognizing me, “we meet again, my lady. Would you care to have a seat? I was about to order wine.”

  I ignored the bottle on the table, which said he was a liar, and offered him a lie of my own. “I don’t actually drink. If I did, it would be something with flavor. I have mouthwash that tastes better.”

  There was Evangeline, leading Ari down the sidewalk, and she looked about as sick as I’ve ever seen anyone. Poor girl, whatever else was wrong with her, the fix for her marital problems was in the bottle.

  The prince’s eyes swept across the bottle, giving it the same look he’d given Evangeline’s bust in the post office. “Is that port?”

  “You drink this swill? Good riddance. Must be your lucky day.” Every day’s a lucky day for first-string princes. I set the bottle on the table, avoided his hand, and marched off with that determined gait that said I was a woman scorned.

  I ducked into the nearest alley and heaved a sigh of relief. By now Ari would be taking a wobbly seat at his table, and in a moment he’d offer her a drink to steady her nerves.

  The sound of a pistol cocking brought me right back into the present.

  “Listen up, princess,” said a man’s voice behind me, “you want to stay calm and do exactly what I tell you.”

  “You have the wrong girl,” I said, but I felt the jab of the barrel in my back and someone kicked me in the back of the knee, causing me to fall.

  “Poor girl,” said a woman’s voice. “I saw you looking at him, and he offered you his table. Your nerves got the best of you. You’re not the one I was expecting, but I can hardly be surprised there are several of you after him. You’ve already fallen under his spell, so you’ll do.”

  “These things happen,” said the man. “Quiet, very quiet, princess, and you don’t die in an alley. In fact, I need you to do something, something simple.”

  “Something natural,” said the woman, and she set down a box beside me. I swear it looked like a pie box, but she opened it and inside slithered a serpent with silver scales. The woman seized my hand, and I gave her the back of my fist, knocking her to the side.

  “Just for that,” said the gunman, and he choked me halfheartedly, pushing his forearm into my throat.

  “Stop!” said the woman. “Don’t hurt her.” She grabbed my hand in a gloved fist and turned it over. “The fangs of the heart seeker are enchanted, so its bite does not bring you pain as it tastes your blood.” She drove a dagger down into my palm and I screamed, a squelched noise as tears ran down my face. “So we do it like this.” She picked up the snake and held it out toward me.

  It flicked its forked tongue. As I strained against her grip, it latched onto my hand, sinking those metallic silver fangs clean through my palm. The bitch lied. It hurt a lot. As it drank, the silver eyes turned crimson, and the scales took on a rose shine. I felt thoughts and memories and feelings running down my arm and into it along with the blood. I don’t know how long it feasted, but when it let go it was fat and warm. Then things got worse.

  “Now that it has tasted of your heart, it will know the truth,” said the woman, and the snake slithered forward, wrapping around my arm, sliding along my skin with those warm metal scales. It poked its head into my blouse sleeve, slithered across my back, and then up around my neck, flicking its tongue at my ear. I don’t mind saying I was screaming at this point, but it didn’t come out as anything more than a whine. It coiled upward, wrapping itself around my head like a crown.

  “Think of him,” said the woman. “You cannot resist it. Think of the prince. Think of the one who might love you.”

  The snake burned my skin where it touched, pulsing in time with my heartbeat, and so many images flashed before my eyes. Dad, Grimm, Evangeline, Ari. I knew I was supposed to think of him, of Prince Mihail, but the harder I tried to force his face into my mind the further away he got. Then I heard the sound of the carousel, or maybe remembered it, and I saw his face: Liam.

  T
he snake uncoiled from my head and fell forward. I watched as it slithered off into a sewer grate.

  “It is done. The curse goes for him,” said my mugger. “Now sleep, princess.”

  I waited for a spell to hit me. Instead I got a boot to the back of my head.

  Twelve

  WHEN I WOKE up, my Agency bracelet was burning. “Grimm?” I opened my compact and saw only my face, filthy from lying in garbage. Obviously my muggers laid some sort of damper hex on the area. That meant Grimm couldn’t tell exactly where I was or what was wrong.

  I had a knot the size of a golden goose egg on my head and double vision, and the skin on my palm was a lovely shade of purple and red. The moment I left the alley Grimm appeared, in bumpers, rearview mirrors, and finally a showroom window.

  “Marissa!” he said, looking me over. “Thank goodness you are alive. Are you injured? Of course you are. Is it life threatening?”

  “Unless you have a twin, I have another concussion. I got mugged, but I’ll live.”

  He almost managed to hide the look of exasperation. I doubt he’d ever had agents getting mugged before. “Then get back to the Agency. We have a problem.” He disappeared.

  It took me the better part of an hour to remember how to call a cab. I had a business card with “The Agency” and our address in my purse. I gave it to the cabbie and tried to doze off. Far too soon the cabbie woke me to say we’d arrived.

  I stepped off the elevator with a migraine like an imp was eating my skull and I knew there was something wrong. On a normal day, coming down our hall was like walking into the entrance of a hornet’s nest. There were always a ton of people trying to get in or trying to get out, and none of them were happy. Most of those people didn’t need real magic, but they all had real problems that needed real solutions.

  Grimm kept dozens of people who worked for him part-time or full-time, and a few, very few, like me. We handled the important things. The dangerous things. The magical things.

  Today the Agency looked like it was on fire. Actually, I had seen it on fire four separate times, and neither looked this busy. People pushed in like it was a Black Friday sale inside. The phones were ringing like a cancer telethon when they put the little bald kid on who sings “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Most of the crowd was the magic type. That wasn’t unusual; they were more likely to have spare Glitter. Most of Fairy Godfather’s normal business was normal problems, from normal people.

  I slipped into the back room and down a crowded hallway and into my office. It wasn’t a broom closet, I’m pleased to say, but it didn’t have a window. Just a computer, a desk, a bookshelf, and of course a mirror.

  “Marissa,” said Grimm, “we have a serious problem.”

  I winced. Grimm’s voice sounded like he was screaming, and the pounding in my ears felt like a hangover without the pleasure of getting drunk first. “What? Did he pick the wrong girl? Did she drop the freaking bottle? She did, didn’t she?”

  Grimm waited for my rant to peter out. “She performed flawlessly, Marissa, flawless, down to the word and gesture. I need you in the conference room, now. There’s a psychotic dwarf barricaded in the MRI room, but once we’ve taken care of him I’ll get you in.”

  “Can you at least do something for my headache?” I felt like I had a safe sitting on my forehead. An angry safe that made every noise sound ten times louder than normal.

  Grimm smiled warmly. “Of course, my dear. There is aspirin in the kitchen medicine cabinet.”

  I tried not to swear, I did. I made it to the kitchen, dry swallowed two pills of indeterminate nature, and stumbled to the conference room. Inside, Evangeline was waiting. Then I saw who was sitting beside her: Ari.

  “What is she doing here?” I sat down across from Evangeline. That’s about when I realized Ari had been crying.

  “That will do,” said Grimm. “In fact, it’s entirely enough. Now, Ari, you did fine.”

  “Then why didn’t it work?” Ari blew her nose. “He poured a drink, and we laughed, and it was perfect.”

  Evangeline shook her head. “It was eleven fifty-seven. You had plenty of time.”

  “Young lady, we will correct this,” said Grimm. “I give you my word. If your prince is capable of loving anyone, it will be you.” That was a serious promise for Grimm.

  “What went wrong?” I asked.

  “Potion didn’t affect him,” said Evangeline. “Not at all. Not even a bit. He finished his meal, excused himself, gave the bottle of port to the table behind him, and stuck her with the tab.”

  Now that didn’t make sense. No one was immune to potions. There’s a reason people used them—they worked. “Bad potion. I knew something was wrong with it, that witch gives me the creeps.”

  Grimm shook his head. “There was nothing wrong with the potion, my dear.”

  Evangeline pulled out a digital camera. “There’s an entire table of bishops who will have serious explaining to do if these pictures get out.” She gave it a pat. “Which they will.”

  Everything was going wrong. “First there’s the accidental prince,” I said, “then little miss here gets projectile vomiting at the wrong time, and now our potion doesn’t work. She’s cursed.”

  Ari let out a little gasp.

  Grimm glowered at me. “She means unlucky. We don’t use that word around here.”

  I rubbed my head. “Someone was looking for Ari. Someone who thought I was her.” Ari and I traded looks, both of us offended such a mistake could be made.

  “What did they want?” asked Ari.

  “They wanted you to think of the man you loved. So they could send something after him. It’s a thing that looks like a snake, called a heart seeker.”

  “One moment,” said Grimm.

  A minute later Rosa came to the door.

  Grimm nodded to her. “Princess Arianna, Rosa would like to arrange a safe trip back to your hotel. Isn’t that right, Rosa?”

  Rosa gave him one of her sour looks and walked out with Ari behind. With the princess disposed of, we could talk.

  My bracelet hummed for a moment, and my hand tingled as Grimm assessed the wound. “You need stitches. Evangeline, if you don’t mind?”

  “I’ll get the kit,” said Evangeline.

  We got a lot of practice. If I had to go to the emergency room every time I needed stitches I’d have an office there instead.

  Evangeline came back, and began to thread her needle. “You want local?”

  “Please.”

  Her eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Grimm always disapproved of painkillers. In this business it was too easy to reach the point where you never wanted to feel again. She took out a syringe and jabbed it into the nerve cluster. I winced as pain like a stun gun shot up my arm. The pain faded to a dull tingling, and she began to stitch.

  “Tell me everything,” Grimm said.

  So I told him about the snake and the bite. I told him about the blood, and how it felt like it was cooking my brain. He listened the whole time, nodding to himself.

  “Now dear,” he said, “I need you to think clearly, and tell me exactly who you sent it after.”

  As if I hadn’t had a bad enough day already. I waited for Evangeline to tie off my sutures and put my hand to my head. It was going to be quite a competition for which hurt worse. “Liam. I thought of Liam.”

  Evangeline watched me, her hand covering her mouth. I had a sickening moment where I imagined her telling Grimm about the phone, but she kept her mouth shut. Grimm closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  I waited for him to yell. To scream. To tell me how I’d once again managed to make another massive mistake, and ask aloud what I always figured he wondered: Why on earth he took me as an agent in the first place.

  He nodded, like he had through the rest of my story. “You’ve had quite a day, Marissa. Go on back to your office and I’ll call you when my SWAT team clears the MRI room.”

  I left the two of them there and pretended I didn’t hear their muffl
ed voices through the wall.

  • • •

  STAFF MEETING, NEXT day, and we were all in the room. Even the part-timers, though it was clear some of us were allowed to ask questions and others would have to keep their questions to themselves.

  “The good news,” said Grimm, “is the first son of a leading royal family is not cursed.” He said the word curse, and a tickle slid down my spine, like when you bite tinfoil. “That’s about the only good news. I’ve received six months’ worth of wishes in three days, and they all ask for the same thing: safe transport to Fae, Avalon, or any one of the other realms. I’ve even had requests for passage to Inferno. All the wishers are magical, and all of them are scared. Alpha and Beta Teams, you have your positions. I need ears throughout Kingdom.” Half the room stood up and left. Shopkeepers, maids, you name it. Grimm had ears everywhere.

  “Gamma Team, I think you are more likely to hear useful information, but you must be discreet, even if it means delay.” The Gammas were hags and hangmen. I couldn’t stand them, but they could walk into the low streets of Kingdom the same way I entered Main Street, and no one gave them a second glance or a first knife to the belly.

  That left me, Evangeline, Clara, and Jess. Clara and Jess used to work for Grimm. Clara was easily sixty, a good twenty years older than Jess. The road map of scars on her made me want to leave this business more every time I looked at her. Grimm had a pension plan, but I didn’t know of anyone who had lived long enough to claim it.

  “Clara, I need you in the Court of Queens. Someone near to the prince is targeting him, and I’d bet another royal over anyone else. Jess, you’ll take the princess’s family. If someone didn’t want Arianna to find a husband, a curse would be an expensive but traditional method,” said Grimm.

  “I swear that girl is cursed,” I said, and Jess gave me a look of disdain. She looked like a carbon copy of Evangeline, except that her face wasn’t gashed. The two could have been mother and daughter, but were quite possibly half sisters. Odds were the same djinn continued to get lucky all over the city just by promising women wishes. If what women wished for was nine months of pregnancy and eighteen years of responsibility, he could definitely grant that.