No Quest for the Wicked

by Shanna Swendson

  Sam swooped in and landed on the awning. “Nothing in a three-block radius,” he reported. “They’re sending up some other carpets, but it’ll take a few minutes. Maybe we should move on and have them meet us somewhere.”

  I checked my notepad. “One of the salons Gemma suggested is only about a block away. We could head there.” I hesitated, then said, “But don’t call the office to tell them where to meet us just yet.”

  “You’re still thinkin’ mole, doll?”

  “Someone has been waiting for us twice so far today, and it seems to happen whenever we check in with the office.”

  As we walked down the street, I moved up alongside Earl and said, “You didn’t get to tell your story.”

  He shrugged. “There’s not much. From my time at court, I knew Sylvester was eager to solidify his power. When Lyle reported that he’d found the Knot, I decided to work with you to keep it out of Sylvester’s hands. Knowing that Sylvester had the Knot all along and that he got the Eye and commissioned the brooch just verifies my suspicion that he’s pulling an elaborate power grab. I have to make sure it doesn’t work.”

  “No songs or poetry in the telling?” I asked with a smile.

  He grinned in return. “There’s a time and a place for that kind of thing. If I wanted to, I could tell it in a way that would make you weep—and not with boredom.” I thought he looked more like a teenager than a bard who could keep his listeners entranced, but I’d heard him sing, so I didn’t say anything.

  “You don’t think Sylvester stole it himself?” Owen asked.

  “No, he’s too frantic about it. He might play it cool in front of Merlin, but he went postal on Lyle when he brought him the news that it had been in a jewelry store. I believe the gnome speaks the truth.”

  “So, that means we have a power-hungry Elf Lord who had this thing made as part of a secret plot, and we have the domineering bitch who owns it now,” I said. “I almost wish we could throw them into a secure room together and let them fight over it. It would be epic.”

  “You don’t know Sylvester. It wouldn’t be much of a fight,” Earl said.

  “You don’t know Mimi,” I replied, suppressing a shudder. “It would be the throwdown of the century.”

  When we’d visited the nearest hair and nail salons on our list without finding either Mimi or a record of an appointment for her, I said, “We’re running out of time. Where are those carpets? If we don’t find her soon, we’ll have to catch her at the museum tonight.”

  Sam, who’d been flying surveillance loops, returned to us and hissed, “Psst, don’t look back. Keep walkin’ casual-like.”

  “What is it, Sam?” Owen asked.

  “I may be gettin’ as paranoid as Katie-bug here, but I do believe you’ve picked up a tail. I mean, another one. This one’s not a bird, and it’s definitely magical.”

  Earl reacted first, leaping to flatten himself into a nearby doorway as he glanced anxiously from side to side. “Relax, kid,” Sam told him. “I don’t think it’s an elf. And if it is, he’s already seen you.”

  “But you’re sure it’s a wizard?” Owen asked.

  “Keep walkin’. It’s harder to shake a tail who knows you’re onto him,” Sam ordered. When we’d complied, aside from Earl, who refused to move from his doorway, Sam continued. “He’s veiling himself, keeps changin’ his appearance, but I noticed the steady wave of magic comin’ after you. I don’t know which person he is in all these crowds, but there’s definitely someone there.”

  “Just one?” I asked. “And he’s there now?”

  “He’s good. He’s hanging back a bit—and don’t look over your shoulder.” He added this last part for Thor. Granny followed it up with a slap to the back of the gnome’s head.

  “How long has he been there?” Owen asked.

  “I think he picked you up at the apartment building, but it’s hard to say. He’d have to have been really good to follow you when you were flying.”

  “I wonder which faction he’s with, or if we’ve got a new one,” I said. “We practically need a chart to keep track of them all. This would be easier if everyone had uniforms or matching T-shirts.”

  “At least he hasn’t offered to join us,” Rod joked. “I guess we should go on with business as usual.”

  “I’ve got carpets waiting for us about a block away,” Sam said.

  “Should we try to lose this guy first?” I asked.

  “Nah, it’ll be easier to lose him in the air.”

  The back of my neck itched with the sensation that I was being watched, but I reminded myself that we weren’t doing anything particularly important at the moment. Anyone who followed us would only get a tour of some of the top salons in the city. I glanced at Owen to see what he was thinking, and his eyes had taken on an unfocused look that was far too familiar. He was deep in thought, miles away. I hooked my arm through his because when he got like that, he sometimes needed someone to keep him from walking into lampposts.

  He came to a sudden halt, nearly creating a minor pile-up on the sidewalk. I didn’t stop in time and staggered backward, my arm still caught in his. “That’s it!” he said.

  “You’ve finally solved that global warming problem?” Rod joked.

  Owen shook his head. “No, I know where I’ve seen those spells the doorman used. They’re from the Ephemera.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You recognized those spells?” Rod asked.

  “There was something familiar about them, but I wasn’t sure why, and it’s been bugging me ever since,” Owen said.

  “If they’re from the Ephemera, does that mean they’re evil spells?” I asked, shivering as my skin crawled.

  “Not necessarily,” Owen said. “The book itself is contaminated with evil enchantments, and a lot of the contents have spells embedded, but a good portion of the book merely records spells that were in use at that time. Those spells the doorman used were ancient, and he used the archaic forms.”

  “Does that mean someone else has access to the Ephemera, or is there another copy?” Rod asked.

  “I don’t know. Surely those spells were recorded somewhere else. We’ve moved so far beyond the magic from that time that even our historians don’t generally go back that far in researching spells. But it would explain why we had so much trouble fighting him. It’s like the way sometimes a really outdated computer can be more secure because the current viruses won’t even run on that operating system.”

  “Keep walking,” Sam interrupted. “You don’t want our friend to overhear you or think you’ve made him.”

  We began moving again, Owen having to work to walk, talk, and think all at the same time. I held onto him to steer him around obstacles. Rod asked him, “Now that you know the source, do you know how to fight those spells?”

  Owen shook his head with a groan of frustration. “No. Normally, I would have internalized the spells as I translated them, but since I can’t work them right now, I only remember bits and pieces, and it’s too risky not to go word-for-word. One variation and you might blow something up or fry yourself.”

  “And you can’t carry the book around because it’s too dangerous,” Rod said with a nod.

  “But the transcriptions of those parts could be safe. I should go back to the office and get them. You might have to go up against those people again.”

  “Do we have time for that?” I asked. “We need to find Mimi before she has a captive audience at this gala that she can recruit into her army of doom for taking over the city.”

  The two guys glanced at their watches. Rod said, “I don’t want to face those spells again without some help. You go, and the rest of us will keep checking salons.”

  “I’ll need Katie, though,” Owen said. “She’s the only other person who can get into the manuscript vault, and it’ll go faster if we’re both digging through the notes. That leaves you without an immune.”

  “We’ll just do recon and surveillance. If we find Mimi, we’ll track her
from a safe distance.”

  As Sam had promised, there were two carpets waiting around the corner a block away. Earl was also waiting there, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head. “I didn’t see anyone following you,” he said, “and they didn’t seem to be following me.”

  I tore the pages out of my notepad and handed them to Rod. “Here’s the list of salons. You saw the newspaper picture, right? You’re looking for a tall, curly-haired redhead with demonic eyes. The people around her will either be cowering, crying, or looking for weapons.”

  Sam perched where he could read over Rod’s shoulder. “I’ll check on a few of these for you. I may be able to do a fly-by.”

  Owen jumped onto one of the carpets, and when I followed him, Granny came with me. “I’m sticking with you,” she said, her tone making it clear that there would be no point in arguing.

  I gave Owen a helpless shrug, and he said, “It won’t hurt for us to have a magic user with us.” To Rod, he added, “Keep in touch and let us know where to meet.” Once he’d helped Granny on board, he told the driver, “To the office, please, and we’re in a hurry.”

  The carpet lifted, then soared skyward as it zoomed down Park Avenue. I’d thought we’d gone quickly before, but it seemed like we were close to breaking the sound barrier. I couldn’t even recognize landmarks. I held on to Owen with one hand and the carpet with the other, and even Owen seemed tense. But Granny shouted with glee, “Woo hoo! Now, this is what I call traveling!”

  We hadn’t been in the air too long before I was pretty sure I saw the Empire State Building go by in a blur. We were heading straight down Fifth Avenue, about twenty stories up, and at a dizzying rate of speed. I felt like I should get double world-saving points for this adventure.

  And yet, it was better than spending the day at my desk. That thought brought a smile to my face. I leaned back my head and joined Granny in a hearty “Woo hoo!”

  A second later, something hit the carpet from below, knocking it sideways. If I hadn’t still had a death grip on it, I’d have fallen right off. My clinging to Owen with my other hand was the only thing that kept him from falling, and his weight almost pulled me off. He grabbed the carpet just in time, giving me a chance to hold on with both hands. Granny had the head of her cane hooked over the side while the driver, tied securely onto the carpet with the fringe, fought desperately to turn it right-side up.

  All the while, the carpet plunged downward. The wind, no longer deflected by whatever magical force field usually held it back, whistled fiercely around us. With the passengers hanging on to the edge of the carpet, it couldn’t right itself. It was as though three people were trying to climb into a canoe at the same time.

  Granny shouted something, but I couldn’t make out the words over the roar of the wind. I didn’t think she was talking to me, though. She seemed to be talking to the carpet, probably telling it to straighten up and fly right, if it knew what was good for it, because she had beaten plenty of rugs in her time.

  Whatever she said, it worked. The carpet gradually rolled back to its proper position, with us lying across it. “Now, that’s more like it,” she said with a grunt of satisfaction. I pressed my cheek against the carpet pile and took several deep breaths before carefully sitting up. Owen and I took one look at each other and fell together in a one-armed hug—each of us keeping a hand firmly on the carpet.

  “What happened?” I asked Owen as I clung to him. “I thought these things were supposed to be safe.”

  “This isn’t the time for that sort of thing,” Granny snapped before Owen could respond. “You two need to see this.”

  I reluctantly looked away from Owen to where Granny was pointing. A gargoyle flew toward us, but it wasn’t any MSI gargoyle I’d ever met. This one looked ancient. It was nearly featureless from time and the elements wearing away the carving, and its stony skin was stained and mossy.

  “That’s not one of ours,” Owen said, releasing me to reach for his phone. He flipped the phone open and said, “Sam, we’re under attack. Fifth Avenue, probably around Madison Square by now. It’s a gargoyle, and I don’t think it’s local.” He closed the phone and returned it to his pocket as he said, “They’re sending help.”

  I was afraid the help wouldn’t arrive soon enough. The strange gargoyle wheeled around to fly straight at us, on a collision course. The carpet twisted out of the way just in time, like a matador’s cape being whisked away from the bull’s charge. For a moment, my fingertips were the only part of me still connected to the carpet. I could see the street directly below me. The ancient gargoyle’s momentum sent it flying down a cross street while we barely jerked away before we slammed into the side of a building. When our driver had recovered from the near-miss and had the carpet back in the proper position, he poured on the speed.

  To no avail. This gargoyle wasn’t as agile as the ones I knew, so it couldn’t turn on a dime, but it could build up some speed once it got started. This time, it came from above, dropping with its clawed feet extended. If it hit us, it would knock us out of the sky. To my dismay, our driver flew straight toward it on a collision course. At the last second, the carpet jerked to the side and practically came to a midair halt. The gargoyle shot past, unable to adjust its course in time. Our carpet sped up again, rising to fly over the roof of a nearby building, then dropping as we flew down Broadway. Our driver used the tall buildings as cover.

  We reached Union Square without further incident. I let myself relax slightly, but then Owen called out a warning. The ancient gargoyle was back, approaching us quickly with its mouth pulled back in a rictus-like grimace. Our carpet sped up, and the gargoyle kept up, gaining on us. I couldn’t bear to watch and turned to Owen. His jaw was clenched in frustration, and his cheeks flamed as his fingers twitched. I figured he couldn’t possibly want to be able to do magic now more than I wanted him to.

  “You get away! Shoo!” Granny shouted, waving at the gargoyle as it drew near. I wasn’t sure what she did, but the gargoyle veered away, furiously flapping its wings. It looked like it had been blown off course.

  “Hey, you’re a wizard!” Owen said.

  She shot him a withering glare. “Of course I am, even if I don’t have all your fancy spells.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just not used to not being able to do this for myself. Are you open to learning a fancy spell?”

  “I’m always willing to learn,” she said archly. “That’s what keeps me young.”

  Owen addressed the driver, saying, “Take us out over the river. I don’t want anyone below to get hurt.” The carpet banked as it turned east down Fourteenth Street. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be over the water, though I supposed it might be better than landing on the street if the carpet tipped again. To Granny, Owen said, “Repeat after me,” and then he said a long string of something that sounded like mostly consonants.

  She tried to emulate him, but got her tongue tangled. “Do you have to use such foreign talk?” she complained, absently waving a hand that deflected the pursuing gargoyle again. “What’s wrong with good old English?”

  “For this, yes, I’m afraid you need the foreign language. This is a pretty complicated process that’s countering other magic. Now, try it again.” He kept coaching her until he felt she wouldn’t carry out an entirely different spell. All the while, our carpet rose, dipped, and zigzagged as it evaded the gargoyle attacker. I played lookout and shouted warnings to the driver while Granny practiced.

  When she got it, Owen said, “Now here’s the hand gesture.” That one she picked up a little more quickly, though she didn’t move her fingers as fluidly as he did. “The last part is all mental. You need to focus on the fact that the gargoyle is stone, that it shouldn’t be flying. It shouldn’t move at all. Can you do that?”

  “That doesn’t take much imagination,” she said dryly. “It’s the natural order of things.”

  “Okay, then, next time it comes at us, do it.” We were over the river now, nothing bel
ow us but dirty water. The gargoyle plummeted toward us, its wings folded against its sides in a steep dive. If it hit us, it would drive the carpet—and its passengers—straight into the river. “Now!” Owen shouted to Granny. Then he instructed the driver, “Hold your course until I say otherwise.”

  Granny moved her hands the way he’d taught her while shouting that phrase that sounded like nonsense to me. I felt the tingle of magic, but the gargoyle kept dropping toward us. “Move!” Owen shouted to the driver. The carpet barely swerved out of the way as the gargoyle dropped like the proverbial stone. I couldn’t resist a glance over the side to watch it fall into the river. I imagined I heard a splash, but that was unlikely from this height.

  “What did I just do?” Granny asked Owen.

  “You told it to turn back into stone. I got the feeling this one had only recently been animated, so it was easy enough to return it to its original state.”

  “Ha! Not so easy, since you needed me to do it,” Granny said with a grin, poking him in the chest.

  “But you needed my fancy spell to do it,” he countered with a grin of his own.

  “I’m sure I’d have figured something out eventually,” she said.

  “Don’t try using that spell on our gargoyles,” he warned. “I’m not sure it would even work, since most of them have been alive for centuries. It’s more likely to just make them cranky.”

  “I bet I could figure something out,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Then they’d better stay on my good side. Otherwise, I think they’d look real good in my garden. I could train ivy over them.”

  Owen’s phone rang, and he winced guiltily at Granny’s mischievous grin as he said, “Hi, Sam. No, we’re okay, we got rid of it. We’re on the East River. It looks like we’re coming up on the Williamsburg Bridge.” Then his eyes went wide. “Oh, no, Rod and the others could be in danger, too.” He looked grim and nodded a few times as he listened.

  “Are they okay?” I asked, clutching his arm as he ended the call.