Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc.)

by Swendson, Shanna

  “Hi there!” I said with a friendly wave. “Whatcha got there? It’s very shiny.”

  He hit me with some magic, but it had its usual lack of effect on me. I laughed out loud with the joy of being back to my usual self. Being able to do magic was cool, but this was who I really was, and I knew how to work it in a way I’d never understood magic.

  My sense of triumph died when I saw that Owen was no longer alone on the other side of the wards. More guards approached him from behind. I shouted a warning, though I wasn’t sure the sound would carry through the wards. At the same time, the guard on my side of the wards hit me with another bit of magic that I ignored while I watched Owen. He turned just in the nick of time, but he was badly outnumbered. They would overwhelm him in a moment.

  I started to rush toward him, but stopped myself. More of our people were on the other side of the wards, and I was the only one who could get through the portal. I was our only hope. As much as I hated leaving Owen behind, I forced myself to focus on my mission.

  The guard kept attacking me magically, astonished that his magic had no effect on this impossible interloper. I took advantage of that by rushing straight at him. He ran toward me, and at the last second, I veered aside to aim for the portal. It was an old fake-out I’d learned when playing touch football with my brothers, and since this guy obviously hadn’t experienced the joys of football, it took him a while to react.

  About two seconds too long, in fact. I was almost to the portal when I felt a breeze against the back of my neck as he reached out to grab me, but I ducked and rolled in the nick of time. I went through the portal in a somersault.

  And then I emerged in the middle of the biggest party I’d ever seen.

  Chapter Nineteen

  At first, I thought I’d wound up in the wrong place, despite Owen’s assurances. This wasn’t some old warehouse where an alien army was being assembled. It was a New York City rave.

  No, make that a disco, I mentally corrected myself, since the song currently blasting through the cavernous space was the extended dance mix of “I Will Survive.” A disco ball overhead sent shards of greenish light reflected from the portal around the room, and beams of colored light played around the dance floor as a mass of people—make that elves—partied like it was 1979.

  In the middle of the elven version of Saturday Night Fever, nobody even noticed that someone had come through the portal. In fact, I stood out more by sitting still on the floor than I had from somersaulting out of the portal. I jumped to my feet and attempted to move like the dancers. Immediately, I had two elven soldiers move to dance with me. They glared daggers at each other, then the one who’d arrived a split second later sighed and backed away.

  While I danced awkwardly in front of the gyrating elf, I glanced around the room. I wasn’t the only female present, but we were definitely in the minority, and we were very popular. Being an in-demand dance partner might make it harder to escape than any guards would.

  Although I hadn’t anticipated landing in a party, I supposed it made sense. If you kept a bunch of elves cooped up in a big space like this, and if they were from another world and they were just discovering disco, this was what was likely to happen. I said a mental prayer of thanks to Saint Gloria of Gaynor because as weird as this situation was, it sure beat landing in the middle of drilling soldiers.

  When the song shifted to a Bee Gees tune, I moved on to dance in front of another elf, aiming for the exit on the other side of the room. So far, no one had noticed that I was human or an outsider. It took four songs for me to get within clear view of the exit, and then my hopes fell. The party ended at the doorway. Beyond that, in the hall that led to the street entrance, there were several armed guards who didn’t look like they were having any fun. They were facing out, like they were keeping people away rather than keeping people in, but I didn’t think they were likely to just let me leave. I needed to find another way out.

  During a group participation rendition of “YMCA,” during which I was unable to make any progress, I noticed a staircase leading to a balcony surrounding the portal room/disco. That gave me an idea. If some gargoyles had disappeared from here, that meant MSI security knew something about this place, and if I knew Sam, he’d be staking it out.

  As soon as the song ended and a Donna Summer tune started, I danced my way toward the stairs. I might not be able to escape via the roof, but I might be able to get a message out that way. There were a number of elves hanging out on the balcony, watching the dance floor below, and I paused to do the same before moving on to look for a roof-access stairwell.

  Although my mission was urgent, I forced myself to look casual. This was a clear case of nobody questioning you if you acted like you belonged. So far, I was getting along just fine in enemy territory, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.

  This building might have been Elf Central, but it was still in New York and subject to the building code, so there was an exit sign over a doorway, indicating a stairwell. Unsure if the elves’ lack of interest in me would extend to me going through an exit door, I leaned against the balcony railing for a while, watching the dance floor. It was hard to think of all these dancers as a potential threat to my world. Did they even know what they were being used for? And were they on board with this mission? Maybe all we needed to do to stop the elven invasion was introduce the would-be army to the New York club scene. Then Sylvester would have to turn to Plan B for taking over the world. These guys didn’t seem like they’d want to change or destroy a world with nightclubs in it.

  When “Dancing Queen” came on, the partiers whooped with joy and enthusiastically threw themselves into dancing along. Even the elves on the balcony joined in the dancing. They were all so caught up in the music that they didn’t notice me easing open the stairwell door and slipping through it.

  There were no guards in the stairwell, so I was able to run up to the roof level. I cautiously opened the roof door, made sure the coast was clear, then wedged a piece of wood I found nearby between the door and the frame so it wouldn’t close all the way, in case the door automatically locked from the inside.

  At first glance, the rooftop seemed empty. The good news was that there were no elves up there, whether guards or partiers escaping the crowd. The bad news was that I didn’t see any gargoyles, either. Now would have been a good time to have magical powers, I thought. I could have sent up some kind of signal. A cell phone might also have come in handy. I was starting to rethink my stubborn stance on refusing to have one. Then again, even if I’d had one, I wouldn’t have it now, since it seemed like all our stuff had been taken away from us when we were sent into the other realm. I wondered if jumping up and down and waving my arms would do any good. The danger there was that I had no idea what I’d attract.

  That made me realize how visible and vulnerable I was standing there on the rooftop. There was a waist-high wall around the edge of the roof, and I ducked so that I was beneath it. Crouching, I made my way around the roof, peering up occasionally. It would have been lovely if I’d spotted Sam perched on an adjacent rooftop, watching this place, but I didn’t.

  What I did find was a fire escape on the opposite side of the building from the entrance. It was a long way down, but it was a way out, and I couldn’t forget that Owen was still in danger. I watched over the edge for a while, making sure there weren’t any patrols, then I gathered my courage and stepped off the roof onto a fairly rickety metal ladder. These things had to be inspected regularly, right? Elves might own this building, but they’d still have to have a working fire escape, I was sure.

  The ladder rattled and creaked alarmingly, but it remained firmly attached to the building. I had to stop and rest with my arm hooked around the ladder every so often because my fingers grew tired and numb from the death grip I had on each rung. When I finally stole a glance at the ground below—which I’d been avoiding doing—it was near enough to be in focus, much to my relief. I came to the end of the ladder and s
tepped cautiously onto the part that extended to reach the ground. It shot downward so quickly I had to bite back a squeal of fright that surely would have alerted the guards on the other side of the building. Then again, they’d have had to hear it over the pulsing sounds of disco music. In this neighborhood, I figured the guards would have their hands full persuading outsiders that this really wasn’t a nightclub too hot to have a sign advertising it.

  After taking a moment to catch my bearings, I ran away from the building. I quickly became acutely aware that this was the real New York, not the sanitized only-in-the-movies version where I’d been imprisoned. The city was generally safer than its public image suggested, but it still wasn’t the sort of place where it was smart for a woman to walk alone at whatever after-dark time it was. It must have been very late—or, rather, early—because the streets were just about deserted.

  Now I really wished I had a cell phone. Since everyone else had one, pay phones had become scarce. Not that I had any change for a pay phone. Or money or a MetroCard for the subway. Or keys to my apartment. I was pretty close to Fourteenth Street, so I supposed I could walk home across town and use the phone there to call the office. That was, assuming my roommates were home and would open the door to me—and then not call the police because I’d suddenly returned from having been missing. I wondered how long I’d been gone. The weather didn’t seem too different from when I’d left, and the clothes I’d been wearing in prison were appropriate for the temperature, though I’d have been a lot more comfortable with the coat I’d left in the bookstore when we’d fled.

  I reached Fourteenth and was wondering if I could convince a cabbie to take me home and then wait for me to have one of my roommates bring money for the fare when a voice called out, “Is that you, doll? I’ve been following you for blocks.”

  I screamed and jumped, terrified that some late-night lecher was taking advantage of my solitude, and then I saw the gargoyle alighting on top of a nearby sign. I’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Tears of joy sprang to my eyes. “Oh, Sam, thank goodness! I didn’t know what to do or where to go and I have to warn Merlin.” My voice was alarmingly wobbly, sounding like I might burst into tears at any moment.

  He hopped over to a street sign closer to me and draped one leathery/stony wing around my shoulders. “There, there, sweetheart,” he crooned in his gravelly voice. “It’s okay. I got you. But where the hell have you been for the last week? We’ve been lookin’ everywhere.”

  “A week? That’s all it’s been?” Then I pulled myself together and told him, “We were captured by the elves—all of us, all the ones who’ve gone missing. Owen was with me, and Earl and Perdita were there, too. Dan showed up recently, and I just found Rocky and Rollo. In that warehouse there’s a portal to the elven realms. That’s where they had us, and we were under a spell that made us think we were still in New York, but we didn’t know about magic, and it’s all very complicated. What I need to tell you is that Sylvester’s bringing through an army from the elven realms. At the moment, they’re busy dancing the night away, but I think it could still be a problem. And everyone else is still trapped in the elven lands because they can’t get through the wards to the portal, and Owen’s under attack. He was in trouble when I left, but I had to go.” I stopped, totally out of breath and drained now that I’d accomplished my mission to warn someone.

  Sam patted my shoulder and nodded. “Well, it’s okay now, doll. Lemme call this one in, and then we’ll get you to a safe place.” He reached up a clawed hand to tap his ear, then gave a rapid-fire series of orders. I was so relieved and exhausted that I didn’t even register what he said. I was too focused on what I’d managed to do and what there still was to do. I couldn’t forget the last glimpse I’d had of Owen under attack.

  A moment later, Sam said, “I’m gonna put you in a cab, since I don’t think you’re up for a magic carpet ride right now.”

  “Nope, I’m still not up for that,” I said, shuddering as I remembered my last experience with magic carpets.

  “Then I’ll meet you back at the office, and we’ll talk to the boss, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said meekly.

  A cab pulled up a moment later, and it was only after I was safely ensconced in the back seat that I realized just how exhausted I was. I must have dozed off because it seemed like only seconds before a blast of chilly air woke me. I opened my eyes to see that the cab had stopped in front of MSI headquarters, and Merlin was holding the cab door open for me. He offered his hand to help me out.

  I’d barely left the car when something struck me and held me in a viselike grasp around the waist. I started to squirm away, then realized it was my grandmother. Granny had never been much of a hugger, so this reaction told me how worried about me she was. Before I could return her hug, she released me and stepped away, her expression making it clear that this had never happened. “It’s about time you got back,” she snapped, only a slight rasp in her voice revealing her emotions. “What were you thinking, wandering off like that?”

  I didn’t get a chance to reply before someone else caught me in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you. We’ve been worried,” Rod’s voice said into my ear. He pulled away and frowned. “But what about Owen?”

  “We should let Miss Chandler sit down before we interrogate her,” Merlin said. He tucked my hand into his elbow to escort me into the building and up to his office. Once we were there, he got me settled into a chair and handed me a hot cup of tea. Granny and Rod pulled up chairs nearby, like they were afraid to let me out of their sight.

  “It is good to see you safe, Miss Chandler,” Merlin said, his voice gruff with a surprising amount of emotion. “We’d feared you were lost for good, along with the others. I know you need to rest after your ordeal, but I’m sure you appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

  I swallowed the sip of tea I’d just taken and said, “I totally get it. That’s why I’m here, to spread the word and get help.” I drank the rest of the tea to fortify myself before I launched into the story, far more coherently than I’d told it to Sam. I left out most of the romantic comedy details, focusing instead on what we’d seen before we were captured, what we’d learned after we broke the spell, and what I’d discovered upon returning to the warehouse. “And I’ve only been gone a week?” I concluded. “It’s been a really, really busy week.”

  “The enchantment likely altered your sense of time, and time does move differently in other realms,” Merlin said with a wryly amused smile.

  “Does that mean I’m a month or so older than I should be?”

  Granny snorted. “You’re too young to worry about that.”

  Merlin’s expression grew more serious. “And now we must stop Sylvester’s army before he can act.”

  “Not to mention gettin’ the rest of our people home,” Sam added. I hadn’t realized he was there, though now that I thought about it, he would have arrived far ahead of the cab. I must have been really out of it before that tea.

  “From what I saw in that warehouse, I’m not sure the army will be too tough to deal with,” I said. “They’re having a big party right now. It seems they’ve discovered disco. I don’t think they’re true believers in the cause. I even wonder if they came voluntarily or if they were brought here the way we were sent into that other world and don’t know the real reason. If they’ve been enchanted, they may think this is something they have to do.” I sighed wearily. “But if that’s the case, I don’t know how to break the spell on them because it requires knowing something about their real lives.”

  “How many of ’em were there, do you think?” Sam asked.

  “A few hundred.”

  “That would be enough to solidify Sylvester’s power and eliminate anyone who might oppose him, but not enough to take on the rest of the magical establishment,” Rod said.

  “We could probably find a way to trap ’em in that warehouse for the time being,” Sam suggested. “Then Sylvester won’t be able to use ’em.�
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  “What we need is an iPod with a really good dance music playlist,” I said, half in jest, but in my exhaustion-addled brain, I had a feeling I was on to something. I babbled on while I tried to make sense of it. “Our music seems to be totally new to them, and they’re really getting into it. Elves have a thing for music, right?” And then something that I should have thought of earlier dawned on me. “Maybe that’s how Sylvester’s controlling them. There had to be someone from our world involved in it, because they were doing all the motions to ‘YMCA,’ and that’s not something you just know if you’ve never seen anyone do it before.”

  Now even more about what I’d seen was making sense. “I think they were all under a spell. That may be why they didn’t seem to care I was there. The spell must be in the music, and it didn’t affect me since I’m immune again. But if we switched the music, they might still enjoy themselves without being under Sylvester’s thrall.”

  The trick would be finding someone to DJ for the forces of good. Perdita would have been a good choice if she hadn’t still been a prisoner. My roommate Gemma used to hit the club scene, but she hadn’t done so in a while and I didn’t want to risk dragging her into this. She was disturbingly enthusiastic about magical missions. “Jake!” I said abruptly. Owen’s assistant was more into punk, but I was pretty sure he could put together a playlist that could save the world.

  “I’ll get him,” Sam said. “He may even still be here. He’s been pulling extra hours while Palmer’s been missing.”

  A few minutes later, Jake ran in, breathless. “You need me?” he asked. Then he saw me. “Katie! You’re back! You’re safe!” His gaze moved beyond me, searching, and I shook my head.

  “Sorry, he’s not with me. I was the only one who could get past the wards to escape, but I know where he is.” I left out the fact that when I’d last seen Owen, he was about to come under attack by elven prison guards.