Damsel Under Stress

by Shanna Swendson

  As I walked up Broadway in SoHo, looking more at the shop windows than at where I was going, I bumped into something soft. I yelped and jumped backward. I hadn’t exactly been paying attention, but I surely would have seen another person that close to me. When I got my bearings and realized who the person was, I knew I hadn’t lost my peripheral vision. It’s easy to bump into someone who’s just materialized right in front of you.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you, dear,” Ethelinda said. “Just popping in where and when I’m needed.”

  “I don’t really need you right now.”

  “Don’t you? You’re having quite the dilemma at the moment.” She tilted her head to one side. “I know you don’t want my assistance with your affairs, but could I offer you one gift?”

  Suspicious, I asked, “Like what?”

  “A little wardrobe advice. For your dinner tonight. Wardrobe is part of my job.”

  Looking at her and her weird, mismatched layers of clothes—today with an outer layer of dark green washed silk trimmed in yellowed lace, yesterday’s rose velvet peeking from underneath—I wasn’t so sure she was qualified, but what could it hurt? I could always ignore what she said, and I did desperately need wardrobe advice. “Okay, sure. What should I wear tonight?”

  She tapped her wand against her lips and pondered. “Based on his profile, I believe you’d do best in something classic, not showy. He appreciates function over form. Good material, good workmanship, that’s what impresses him, although he won’t be consciously aware of it.” I had to admit, she had Owen pegged. Not that I owned anything like that or could afford to buy it. I supposed I could borrow something from Gemma or Marcia.

  “Thanks, that’s good advice,” I said, but then before I could react, she’d waved her wand at me. I felt a tingle all over, then I looked down and saw myself wearing a red satin dress with a hoop skirt. I couldn’t say anything in protest because the corset was so tight I couldn’t breathe.

  “Oh, no, that won’t do at all,” Ethelinda said, shaking her head. “Wrong century, and possibly the wrong season.” She waved her wand again, and I gasped to catch my breath once the restriction around my chest was gone. Whatever she’d put me in this time, at least it was more comfortable, although it scratched my neck. I looked at my reflection in a nearby shop window and saw that I was wearing a high-necked, starchy Victorian blouse and long skirt. “Now, that is fetching on you,” Ethelinda said, “but I don’t think it’s quite right for the occasion.” This time when she waved the wand, I went back to the outfit I had been wearing. I glanced around worriedly, even though I was pretty sure nobody could see me changing outfits while standing on the sidewalk. Then again, in that neighborhood, it might not even raise an eyebrow. They’d think it was a photo shoot for a fashion magazine.

  “Oh, I know just the thing,” Ethelinda said, her eyes lighting up with delight. She waved her wand, and suddenly my coat was a lot nicer. It fit me perfectly, it was made of fine material, and it didn’t have that stain on the lapel that came from trying to drink coffee while walking to work. Intrigued, I unbuttoned the coat and saw a beautiful silk jersey dress underneath.

  “Wow, thanks, this is gorgeous,” I said, still reeling slightly from the rapid changes of wardrobe. I probably would have gone through just as many outfits at home as I tried to decide what to wear, but I wouldn’t have gone through such extremes or ultimately found anything so nice. Then I remembered the way these things tended to go in the stories. “Does this outfit have an expiration date? Am I going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight or suddenly be nude, or anything like that?”

  “It’s supposed to last until the next day, though to be honest, I’m not sure if that’s defined as midnight or sunup. You’d probably best be home by midnight, to play it safe. Not that you should be out later than midnight on a first date,” she added with a “tsk-tsk” gesture from her wand.

  “I wasn’t planning on it. I have to work tomorrow.”

  She studied me critically. “I wish I could do something about your hair and face, but your magical immunity makes that problematic. I can change your clothing, but I can’t change any part of you. Make sure you powder your nose and brush your hair before you go out.”

  I gave my hair a self-conscious pat as I wondered what was wrong with my face. She sounded like she was channeling my mother, who never stopped telling me to put on brighter lipstick. “My roommates will help me get ready,” I assured her. “Thanks again for your help.”

  I turned to go, but before I got very far, she called out, “Your shoes!”

  I looked down and saw that I was still wearing the comfortable flats I’d worn shopping. She raised her wand, but I held up a hand to stop her. “I’ve had a bad experience with magical shoes. I have some shoes at home that will go with this, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh yes, I remember seeing something about that. Quite understandable, though I do recall that it worked out rather well for you.”

  “In the long run, yeah, I guess.” You’d think that a pair of shoes that made you utterly irresistible would be a good thing, but in reality it’s a totally different story. They had sent me running into Owen’s arms, which turned out to be good eventually, but along the way the enchanted shoes had caused me plenty of woe before I got the happy ending.

  “Have a good time tonight, dearie, and you know you can call on me if you need help.” She vanished in a puff of sparkly dust, and I headed up Broadway toward home, already trying to think of a way to explain to my roommates how I came home from a shopping trip in obviously expensive designer clothes, with no sign of my old clothes. They’d know I was too practical to just throw away what I’d been wearing.

  I’d barely made it a block before I nearly bumped into someone else. This time it wasn’t because the person had just popped into existence, but because he’d suddenly come to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk. It was none other than Phelan Idris, the rogue wizard who was the reason Owen was having to work so hard. I barely sidestepped him and kept moving so that no one behind me would bump into me, and he hurried to turn around and fall into step beside me. I couldn’t quite stifle a groan.

  It would have been easy to underestimate Idris. He looked like a geek with inflated ideas as to his own power and intelligence, and I knew I was immune to any magic he wanted to use on me. I would have bet I could also take him in a physical fight because he didn’t look like the type who had ever learned to fight with anything other than magic, while I’d grown up with three older brothers, so I knew a thing or two about scuffling. But I’d also been through some really frightening attacks by all kinds of creatures controlled by Idris, so I didn’t take his presence lightly. He was either up to something or passing on a message. If I handled this well, I might come away with some useful information.

  “You look nice today,” he remarked. He sounded almost normal, which immediately made me suspicious.

  “Thanks,” I replied automatically. I couldn’t seem to turn off my old-fashioned Southern manners.

  “I guess you’ve got a hot date tonight with the boyfriend.”

  “That’s none of your business. What do you want?” When I didn’t get an answer, I turned to see that he was no longer beside me. He was standing in front of a shop window, staring openmouthed at a mannequin in a slinky dress. Idris was notoriously short in the attention span department. It didn’t take much to sidetrack him. I debated with myself for a moment: Did I want to take advantage of this opportunity to get away from him, or would I get anything useful out of him?

  While he was captivated by the shiny object, I tried to glance around without looking like I was glancing around. I was fairly certain I had a magical bodyguard or two. The problem was that they wouldn’t know I was chatting with the enemy. They’d see whatever illusion he was using for disguise. We needed to work out a set of signals so I could let them know that there was something magical and freaky going on. It would have been nice if I’d had a way to know that magic wa
s in use so I’d know if others were seeing what I saw. I could usually sense a bit of a tingle when a lot of magic was being used, but even with Idris right next to me, I didn’t feel anything obvious.

  I thought I saw Rod Gwaltney across the street, looking in a shop window that reflected the street behind him in its plate glass, and I let myself relax. Rod was director of Personnel at MSI and Owen’s best friend. Although he was stylish enough to be out shopping in SoHo, it was more likely that he was my designated magical guard. With Rod there, I felt like I ought to take advantage of the opportunity to subtly interrogate our chief suspect.

  I had to suppress a sigh as I retraced my steps to go back to where Idris had stopped. “That’s not your color,” I said.

  He blinked at me like he’d totally forgotten I was there. “Huh?”

  “The dress you’re looking at? It would look lousy on you.”

  “I was looking at the shopgirl. I think I know her from somewhere.”

  “Well, before you get on with your reunion, would you mind telling me what you wanted?”

  “Wanted?”

  I counted to ten before replying so I wouldn’t yell at him. “I presume you wanted something. We’re not friends, so you usually don’t pop by just to say hi. Weren’t you going to threaten me or intimidate me or give me a message to pass on to Owen, or something like that?”

  He got a vacant look, like his brain was rewinding the tape. If Owen hadn’t assured me that this guy was actually competent, and if I hadn’t seen him in action myself when he was focused on something, I’d have felt pretty secure that the world was safe. “Oh, yeah,” he said at last. Then he ducked his head and stared at the toes of his high-top sneakers. “I wanted to see if you could tell me how Ari was doing. I guess I shouldn’t have left her there to take the heat.”

  It was my turn to blink and look vacant. If he was asking after Ari, then he didn’t know she was free, and it meant he wasn’t the one to free her.

  “Funny you should ask,” I said. Then I trailed off with a sigh as I realized I’d lost Idris again. A trio of model types, looking like they’d just emerged from their coffins after a night of partying, walked past. His head practically snapped as he turned to watch them. He moved as though to follow them, but I caught the belt on his black trench coat and tugged him back to me. “You did want to hear about Ari, didn’t you?” I reminded him.

  “Oh yeah, what about her?”

  “As I was saying, it’s funny you should ask because she’s no longer in our custody.”

  “You let her go?”

  “She got away. Someone got her out.”

  He grinned widely. “Excellent. I knew she was a sharp one.”

  “You really didn’t know? I’d have thought you’d be the one to rescue her.”

  “If I could get in there and get into secured areas, do you think I’d have been relying on flighty fairies to do my spying? But you’re saying Ari’s free? Wow.” Before I could respond, he vanished.

  As I turned around to head back toward my apartment, Rod ran up to me. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Was that guy bothering you?”

  “That guy was Idris.”

  “Really? Isn’t that rather bold of him to walk right up to you on Broadway in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “That’s what was weird. He didn’t see any reason he shouldn’t be talking to me. He didn’t know Ari escaped.”

  “Very strange. But you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. He just wanted to know how Ari was doing. He didn’t even make his usual threats.” Then I noticed something different about Rod. It took me a moment to figure out, but then I grinned. “I like your hair,” I said.

  Rod wore an illusion that made him appear incredibly handsome. As a magical immune, I saw the real thing, which wasn’t quite as attractive. It wasn’t that he was really ugly, though he did have some unfortunate features. But when you can make almost everyone see you as a dashing heartthrob, you aren’t going to waste much time in front of a mirror in the morning, especially when you can also use magic to make hearts throb.

  Today, though, Rod had done something with his hair. Normally he just slicked it back, but now it looked more natural. Without all the pomade, his hair turned out to be thick and wavy, and a rich, dark chestnut color. The wave in his hair as it framed his face softened his angular features, and the lack of grease in his hair also made his face look less shiny. When he smiled, he was actually cute.

  “It looks good?” he asked, sounding a little unsure.

  “Yeah, it looks great. You should do it like that more often.”

  He looked pleased. I couldn’t help but wonder what had brought this on. I’d been planning to attempt a makeover on him, if I could figure out a way to do it without hurting his feelings, but if he was going to do it himself, I could provide positive reinforcement. “You look good, too,” he said. “Is that for your dinner with Owen tonight?”

  I didn’t need to ask how he knew about our date. Gossip flew at light speed around MSI, and Rod and Owen were best friends, so it was a given that Rod already knew, and I knew he approved of the two of us. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, what the rest of the company would think about our office romance. “Thanks, and yeah, it’s for dinner,” I said. “I just, um, borrowed it from a friend and was going to look for some accessories. I needed to be sure whatever I got would match.”

  “It’s a perfect choice. He’ll love it. Have fun tonight.”

  Fortunately, my roommates weren’t around when I got back, so I was able to give them an almost-true story about borrowing the dress from a co-worker when they arrived as I was doing my hair.

  “You look great,” Gemma assured me. “Your co-worker has fabulous taste. Maybe you should invite her shopping with us sometime.”

  Oh, I could see that happening. “Maybe,” I hedged. The buzzer from the front door downstairs kept me from having to come up with an excuse. Owen was right on time, in more ways than one. I got to the intercom before Marcia had a chance to interrogate him. “I’ll be right down,” I said, making it sound as decisive and final as possible. I wasn’t in the mood to have to shelter him from my roommates.

  “You’re no fun,” Gemma pouted, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Have a good time and remember it’s a school night.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I promised as I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. When I stepped out the front door downstairs, I was immediately glad that I hadn’t invited Owen up. He looked even more handsome than he normally did. He was clean-shaven, the glasses were gone, and he wore a silk suit with an open-collared shirt that made him look like a photo spread from GQ. My roommates might have fought me for him. I was glad Ethelinda had worked her magic on me. Otherwise, I would have felt awfully frumpy next to him.

  A slow smile spread across his face when he saw me. “Wow. You look amazing. Not that you don’t always look nice, but you look really nice tonight.” That was my Owen, absolutely adorable and delightfully awkward.

  “You’re not so bad, yourself,” I said, feeling my face grow warm. Giving compliments like that wasn’t as easy as it looked.

  He stepped toward me and gave me a gentle kiss that more than made up for the lack of a kiss Saturday morning. Up close to him, I could see I was right about the dark circles under his eyes. “Did you get any sleep at all this weekend?” I asked.

  “Some.” He didn’t meet my eyes and instead turned toward the street. “I’ll get a cab.” That was an area where magical powers really came in handy in this city. He barely waved one hand, and suddenly a taxi practically jumped the curb to get to him.

  He took me to a Village restaurant that was upscale in a classy, unobtrusive way. It was different enough from the kinds of places we’d gone together when we were going out as friends to make this very clearly a special date, but not so fancy that it looked like he was trying too hard. The prices on the menu were almost high enough to make my eyeballs bleed, but the food was described
in plain, unpretentious English.

  We spent several minutes discussing the menu and deciding what to order, then after we’d given our orders and the waiter had brought our drinks, an awkward silence descended over the table. We’d never had trouble talking to each other before. What had we talked about before we were officially dating? Oh yeah, work. Well, whatever it took to get the ball rolling.

  “How did things go this weekend? Did you find anything interesting?” I asked.

  He looked so relieved and grateful to have a topic of conversation that it was almost funny. “Interesting, yes, but I’m not sure how valuable it was. I’m now certain that someone I don’t know broke her out magically. I’m not sure yet how they got past our defenses.”

  “You don’t think Idris was involved?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “He doesn’t seem to know anything about it.” I told him briefly about my earlier encounter with Idris. “So now in addition to having a rogue wizard with a short attention span to deal with, we also now have his girlfriend, who has more than enough reason to have a vendetta against both of us, and who’s capable of staying focused on one thing for more than five minutes at a stretch. Plus, maybe another player entirely who’s capable of getting past all our security. Fun.”

  He made a rueful face. “You said it. We’re trying to track them down, but I’m also curious to see what they do next. I imagine we’ll know soon enough.”

  “I guess it’s too much to hope that their big plan is running away to Fiji and leaving us alone.”

  He laughed at that. “It would be nice, but I doubt it.”

  I had something incredibly witty and clever to say in response, but before I could say it, there was a scream from the back of the restaurant, followed by a whooping alarm and a burst of cold water as the sprinkler system came on.

  “Fire!” someone yelled, and I somehow doubted they were testing their First Amendment right to yell “fire” in a crowded restaurant.