Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc.)

by Swendson, Shanna

  “Don’t worry, if you don’t recall running into your family here, they probably aren’t here,” I said, as gently as I could in this urgent situation. “This seems to be a pretty small world. You have to go on playing your role, pretending that nothing has changed. Can you do that?”

  “But I’m a terrible waitress. I’m so clumsy.”

  I couldn’t fight back a wry smile. “That actually hasn’t changed here.”

  She stopped hyperventilating. “Oh. Yeah, you’re right. I have been a terrible waitress. Why did they make me a waitress?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know why they did half of what they did. Have you ever thought about being a waitress?”

  “I’ve sometimes thought that would be where I ended up if I screwed up another job, and then I’d be even worse at being a waitress than I was at anything else. And I was worried that if the elves and the wizards stopped dealing with each other, I’d lose my job.”

  “Well, that’s apparently where your subconscious placed you in this world. The elves are up to something, but here, all the prisoners are on the same team, wizard or elf. For now, though, you have to go on like nothing is different. Assume everyone around you is in on it until we know more and can come up with a plan. Can you do that?”

  “There are so many people here that I know!”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured, and we’ll take care of them when we know more. But just go on for now, okay?”

  She took a few deep breaths, then nodded. “Okay. I can do this.”

  I patted her on the shoulder. “I know you can. Now, are you ready to go back inside?”

  “I guess. Your breakfast is probably ready.”

  Back in the diner, the floor had been cleaned and the other waitress had put our meals on the table. “You okay?” she asked Perdita.

  “Yeah. I don’t know what came over me.” She grinned and added, “Maybe all the grease I’ve inhaled in here just came out of my pores and made that coffeepot slip out of my hand. Sorry about that, Katie, Owen.”

  “No problem,” Owen said with a thin smile.

  When the diner staff had left us to our meals, he whispered, “How did it go?”

  “She’s freaked out, but I gave her the scoop. Now I just guess we’ll have to see if she can pull it off.”

  “Maybe I should enchant her,” he mused.

  “Let’s see what she does. She does know a lot of people and could be helpful for passing messages here. I don’t see any of the gray guys.” I groaned. “And I forgot to warn her about them.”

  “If you warned her, she’d pay more attention to them.”

  “Good point. And now we know just how tenuous that spell can be. All it took for her was seeing us together.”

  Perdita seemed to be pulling off the deception as we finished breakfast. She didn’t do any obviously amateur stuff like winking at us. Her persona here was close enough to her real self that there weren’t any obvious differences. If she could just remember not to use magic, I thought she’d be okay.

  And if not, she’d blow the whole thing wide open.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mac and McClusky were at their usual spot in the park when we arrived at the store. Owen winced and said, “I’d better report on what we found and what’s happened.”

  “Do you have to?”

  “I don’t want to give them anything they might take as a danger sign, like withholding information, and I don’t know how much McClusky saw. Maybe if what I say matches what he saw, he’ll relax a little.” He ambled over, with me in tow, to watch the game in progress. McClusky’s suspicious glare told me he still wasn’t convinced about Owen.

  “We may have found the way into the elven realms last night,” Owen said softly.

  Both Mac and McClusky looked up sharply. “Instead of there being barriers, the neighborhood loops back on itself,” Owen explained, “but we followed one of the gray guys to a park at the boundary, and it was bigger than the boundaries. There were a lot of those gray elves gathered there.”

  “But you didn’t find the portal itself?” McClusky asked, nudging one of his pieces onto a different square.

  “I thought the chances were slim that we’d be able to get anywhere near it, you know, with all those guards present.” A little bitter sarcasm slipped through in his tone, but I still thought Owen was showing admirable restraint in not ratting McClusky out for following us—or in not socking him in the jaw.

  “Owen’s right, I can’t imagine that they don’t have the portal heavily guarded and warded. I doubt we’d be able to just get away that way,” Mac said. “But I’m thinking there’s more of us in here than of them. They’re counting on us not fighting back or trying to escape. If we get enough people snapped out of the spell and working together, we might be able to overwhelm them and force them to let us go. Start reviving people, but keep it quiet, and make sure they keep it quiet. We’ll operate as cells for now. Each person should only know those he revived, not anything beyond that. Unless you broke the spell on someone, assume in all interactions that the person is still bewitched.”

  Owen stiffened, like he was about to protest, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that he didn’t agree with this plan at all. But then he nodded acknowledgment and slapped Mac on the back, as though congratulating him on the game, before we headed for the store.

  Once we were in Owen’s office, I said, “You don’t think overtaking the guards is the best plan, do you?”

  “I don’t see how it can work. Even if we’re in charge, they can keep us here indefinitely if we can’t get to the portal.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Keep trying to find a way out that doesn’t involve violence. If I can do that before Mac plans his prison riot, then things won’t have to get ugly. I doubt the elf prisoners will go along with that plan, anyway. It would mean turning on their own people, and no matter how unhappy they are with Sylvester’s regime, I don’t see them going after other elves unless they absolutely have to, or trusting any plan put together by wizards. Remember how Earl had to be deep under the influence of the Eye of the Moon before he was willing to attack Sylvester.”

  “Speaking of Earl, should we snap him out of it now?” I asked.

  “Might as well.”

  He called Earl into his office for a meeting, presumably to discuss how to market his section. As Earl sat in front of Owen’s desk and discussed which series was most popular, I studied him, trying to recall everything I could about working with him. He’d been given a human illusion, so he looked different from the Earl I knew, and that made it harder to dredge up anything that would trigger a memory.

  Then I got an idea. “We should come up with a logo to brand our fantasy section,” I said. “That treasure hunt was so successful, I thought we could take it a step further and create a logo that looks like an enchanted object, and do a broader treasure hunt for that kind of object—maybe something Celtic-looking.”

  Owen immediately picked up on where I was going with it, grabbed a notepad and a marker and drew a reasonable facsimile of the Knot of Arnhold merged with the Eye of the Moon, the enchanted brooch we’d been looking for when we met Earl, who was on the same quest. “Something like this,” he said, turning the notepad to face Earl.

  Earl got a funny look on his face, like he was trying to dredge up some distant memory, and I moved in for the kill. “We could build a narrative around it, like the brooch itself is an ancient elven object that gives the wearer invulnerability.”

  “We could call it the Knot of Arnhold,” Owen put in.

  “But it’s been lost for centuries, and then it reappears, but it’s been merged with an equally legendary gem that gives its owner great power.”

  “Call that the Eye of the Moon,” Owen said.

  “And now the brooch has been lost. Whoever owns it could rule the world—after starting a lot of wars. There’s a great quest to seek it, but are the seekers looking to use the brooch for t
heir own gain or to destroy it and save the world?”

  Earl sat there, looking stunned. His eyes glazed over. I leaned toward him and whispered, “Shut up, Earl.” That had been what Sylvester and his cronies used to say to Earl all the time when Earl was working in the Elf Lord’s court.

  Earl jumped out of his seat, shouting, “Sylvester’s opened a portal to the elven realms! We have to stop him!” After his outburst, Earl stood panting for a moment, then he blinked and looked around the office, at Owen, and at me. He blinked again, then said shakily, “Are you who I think you are?”

  “Who do you think we are?” Owen asked.

  “You’re Katie and Owen, but you’re not people I know from working in a bookstore. You’re wizards with MSI. All of this is wrong.” He sank back into his chair like his legs had just gone out from under him. “What is this place?”

  “It’s some kind of containment zone in the elven lands. I guess you saw something they didn’t want you to see.”

  Earl rubbed his temples with his thumbs and shook his head a few times, like he was trying to clear out the cobwebs. “Yeah, I followed one of Sylvester’s men to the warehouse, and I found the portal there. They’ve got a steady connection to the elven realms. Our people have supposedly been cut off from there for ages. I tried calling you, but I guess they got to me first. We didn’t talk, did we?”

  “I got the call, but there was no one there,” Owen said.

  “How did you two end up here?”

  “I got the photo you sent, and then we found that same warehouse.”

  Earl nodded. “Now that I think about it, there are a lot of our people here. This must be where everyone goes when they disappear.” He grinned suddenly. “As prisons go, this one doesn’t suck. It was almost like being on vacation. I was getting paid to talk about science fiction and fantasy books. But how do we get out of here?”

  “That’s the part we’re working on,” I said.

  “What we’re trying to do for now is get everyone snapped out of the spell,” Owen added.

  “Without tipping off the guards,” I put in.

  “The guards?”

  “It’s probably a safe bet that anyone you run into here that you don’t know from MSI or from your elf underground is working for Sylvester to keep us here and docile,” I explained. “You may also see people who actually look like elves. They wear gray suits and seem to be in charge, but you don’t see them at all when you’re under the spell. Try to ignore them. We don’t want them to know that we’ve broken the spell, so it’s very important that you act as normally as possible.”

  Earl’s eyes widened with worry. “Oh, yeah, there’s no telling what Sylvester would do to us if he knew we were on to him.”

  “It looks like a strong memory from the real world works to break the spell,” Owen said. “If you run into someone you know, try to get them alone and then start talking about something that will trigger them, then explain all this.”

  “That ‘alone’ thing is very important,” I added. “You don’t want someone snapping out of it and reacting visibly when one of Sylvester’s people might be looking. If one person tips them off, we might all be in danger. And don’t do too many in a row. If you spend the day meeting up with all the people you knew back home, it might look obvious. Work gradually, and try to make the situations look as natural as possible.”

  “Also, we’re trying to keep this in cells, so if one group is discovered it might not lead to everyone, so once you revive someone, that person shouldn’t tell you who else he’s reviving,” Owen said.

  “Okay, got it,” Earl said, nodding. And then his eyes narrowed. “Hey, wait a second, if we’ve been under a spell, how did you two end up here? I thought you were magically immune.”

  Owen blushed slightly. “Remember when the brooch was destroyed and we got caught in the backlash? It seems to have rebooted me, and it gave Katie a dose of magic.”

  “I’m only a temporary and not very good wizard,” I said.

  “You were good, you had a real knack,” Owen argued. “You just have a shortage of power to draw upon.”

  “Oh, okay,” Earl said, taking it in stride. “Am I supposed to keep that a secret?”

  “I think they already know,” Owen said dryly.

  When he’d gone back to the sales floor, I said to Owen, “Between Mac, Perdita, and Earl, I think we’ve found that there’s a way to snap people out of it without kissing them.”

  His lips twitched with a slight smile even though his eyes looked troubled. “I don’t think that would work for everyone, only the people who’d remember kissing you.”

  “Which would narrow it down significantly, to just you,” I said. “Which is fine by me. And now it’s time to get back to my pretend job.”

  Except I didn’t go up to the coffee shop. Owen might not have been willing to go against Mac’s bad plan, but I wasn’t bound by the same constraints. I headed to the science fiction section to talk to Earl. He jumped in surprise when I came up behind him. “Katie, what is it?” he asked, then added in a softer voice, “Is this bookstore business or, you know, other business?”

  “Other business.” I glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot—especially not Owen—then said softly, “I need to talk to you about something that Owen can’t say to you.” My heart was racing, and I felt more nervous about being caught by Owen than by the guards, but I forced myself to forge onward. “You know the wizards are going to be suspicious about him having his powers back, and the Council enforcers who’ve been following him got zapped here, too. He’s working with them in a show of good faith, and he’s letting them take the lead. The instructions he gave you are from the Council guys and part of a plan that Owen doesn’t agree with.”

  Earl stiffened. “The wizards are taking the lead on an elven matter in elven lands?”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much how I figured your people would react. I think that’s what Owen expects, too, but he’s in a difficult position. If he goes against them, they’ll think he’s a dangerous rebel.”

  “But if the elves resist, then we’re just being elves.”

  I grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Exactly! I don’t know who the elves would want leading the way, but be on the lookout for a leader who makes sense as you go around figuring out who’s here. It would be nice if we could remind everyone that while we’re prisoners, we’re all on the same team, but I’ll settle for not doing something really stupid that doesn’t take the real situation into account. And, of course, don’t tell Owen I said anything to you. Please.”

  “You can count on me. Thanks for letting me know.”

  *

  I didn’t see any lurking men in gray when we left the store after work, but there was no guarantee that none of the other people milling around weren’t among our captors, so we put on the usual act of discussing where to have dinner and then wandering until we found a place we could agree on. Unfortunately, the gateway park wasn’t near any restaurants, so we didn’t have an excuse to just wander by there. We settled for stopping by an ice cream shop after eating dinner and then walking as we enjoyed our ice cream. That seemed like the sort of thing a newly-in-love couple might do.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I murmured to Owen when we were about a block away. “See if we can get in before the shift change and the meeting and then find the portal?”

  “Too risky,” he said after catching a drip off his cone with his tongue. “I want to know a lot more before I try going in again. However, I have an idea for surveillance. Do you think they’d put any of the prisoners in an apartment across from their gateway?”

  “No, but it would be a good place to house guards.”

  He nearly tripped over his own feet. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “The whole building probably isn’t occupied,” I hurried to reassure him. “We should be able to find a vantage point for watching the park. That was your plan, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, som
ething like that.”

  At the end of the block where the park was, we made sure no one was following us, then tried the door at the top of the first set of steps. Owen unlocked it magically, and we found that the entry lobby appeared fully furnished. When we squinted at the upper landing, it seemed less detailed. We headed up there and found that it looked a lot like the backdrop of a stage set. Even the small table on the landing was just an image painted onto the wall. The door on that landing was unlocked.

  Past the doorway was blank space like I’d found above my apartment, open through to the end of the building, without interior walls. We picked our way across, walking on the floor beams. When we were across the street from the park, we settled down to watch.

  We were about half an hour earlier than we’d been the day before, but soon the gray elves began arriving at the park. They came in ones and twos, but never more than that. I kept a running count. When the flow had trickled off and then ceased, I said, “I counted twenty.”

  “They started arriving around eight thirty. Do you think you can wait around a while longer?”

  Perching on the narrow beam wasn’t very comfortable, but I said, “Of course. Let’s see how long the meeting lasts and how many come out.”

  Things were quiet for the next twenty minutes. No one came down this street, which meant we’d have to be really careful when we left. It didn’t seem like this was a place we could get away with randomly wandering into too many times. Finally, gray elves began emerging from the park. “I counted eighteen this time,” I said. “But I couldn’t tell if they were the same ones or different ones. They may as well be clones. And since we’re not supposed to be able to see them, we can’t exactly pull the ‘accidentally spilling ink on him’ trick to tell them apart.”

  Just then, the exterior door downstairs slammed shut, and we both froze. Another door inside the building then opened and closed. It sounded like someone had gone into the apartment immediately below us.

  We froze. Meeting each other’s eyes, we silently agreed to wait and see if anyone left. Several long moments went by without any sound of doors opening or closing. Sounds of muffled conversation came from downstairs. Did that mean someone had been below us the whole time? We’d spoken very softly and hadn’t moved much, and no one had come up to check things out, so I hoped that meant they hadn’t noticed anything.