Much Ado About Magic

by Shanna Swendson

  “Hey, you two, get a room!”

  Owen immediately pulled away from me while turning bright red. I looked up to see a gargoyle perched on a shop awning.

  “Oh, hi, Rocky,” I said, feeling my own face grow warm. “What are you doing here?”

  “On patrol. This is my sector.”

  “Has it been busy?” Owen asked.

  The gargoyle shrugged. “Eh, not so much today. Things seem to be taperin’ off. But I’d better get back on the beat. You two be careful. Save the canoodlin’ for when you’re safe at home.” He flew back to his post.

  We headed in the general direction of Owen’s house, but before we got to his place, he opened the door to the neighborhood’s historic tavern. The hostess directed us up the stairs at the back, and as soon as we reached the top of the staircase, a cry of “Surprise!” rang out. This had to be a record, two surprise birthday parties in one day.

  “Don’t hate me,” Owen whispered in my ear as my friends came toward us. “I didn’t know until the last minute that they were doing anything at work, and this was all Gemma’s idea.”

  Gemma greeted me with a hug and put a glass of wine in my hand. “You looked like you were really surprised,” she said. “He must have done his job without spilling the beans.”

  “And one day I may even forgive him for that.” But I laughed and kissed him on the cheek to show that there was nothing to forgive, even though I wouldn’t have minded spending some time alone with him. That was a precious commodity these days, and I had a feeling it wasn’t going to get better anytime soon.

  *

  I barely saw Owen during the week since both of us were so busy, so I was looking forward to our move on Saturday because it meant I’d actually get to see him. “Are you sure we don’t need to pack?” Marcia asked on Saturday morning as we waited for the guys.

  “That’s what Owen said,” I told her reassuringly. “He and Rod have something planned.”

  Owen showed up first with a satchel slung over his shoulder, from which he took a folded booklet that I recognized as a retail version of an MSI spell. “Wait, you’re actually using a spell?” I asked.

  “I always use spells. I just usually don’t need the instructions because I’m one of the people who developed them in the first place. But this one is from before my time—a real classic—and it’s not one I use often enough to have memorized.”

  Gemma pulled the booklet out of his hands and flipped through it. “This is what a spell looks like? It’s not what I was expecting.”

  “The big leather tomes with parchment pages are inconvenient to carry around,” Owen said dryly, taking his booklet back from her. “And scrolls tend to get squashed.”

  Rod arrived next. “Oh good, you got the spell,” he said to Owen. “Do you have all the other stuff?”

  Owen patted his bag. “Right here. When Philip gets here, we can start. It’ll go faster if we combine power.”

  “This all sounds so exciting,” Marcia said. “We’ll get to see some real magic being done.”

  “It’s not as exciting as you’d think,” Rod said.

  “Maybe not for you, but, hello! It’s magic! That’s exciting for me.”

  When Philip arrived, he greeted us all with a bow, then kissed Gemma’s hand. “I presume you’re providing leadership in this endeavor,” he said to Owen. “I will be happy to provide power, but it has been a long time since I have worked magic of this nature.”

  “Yes, I’ll guide the spell and draw on you two,” Owen said. After a quick tour of the new place, he took a large sheet of paper out of his bag and sketched out a floor plan of that apartment, then made notes as he asked us where we wanted things to go. We went back upstairs, where he took several vials out of the bag and handed them to me, along with a sheet he tore from a notepad. “I’ve written which colors go with which rooms,” he said. “I need you to go down there and sprinkle the right color of powder around the perimeter of each room.” When I got back upstairs after carrying out my task, the guys were using a similar powder to color code the items to be moved.

  When they were done, the three wizards went over to the corner where Owen had his floor plan laid out. Owen dabbed colored powder on the floor plan, with the colors corresponding to the way I’d sprinkled the powder downstairs. The three guys joined hands, Owen murmured foreign words, then I felt the surge of power. The powder on the floor plan glowed and rose to hover above the paper, then the powder on or around the furniture began glowing. Owen said something else and gave a wave of his hand, and then there was a loud pop. We all blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, everything was gone.

  “That’s it?” Marcia asked, blinking furiously.

  “You wanted it to be more difficult?” Rod asked.

  “I put a bandanna around my hair and wore my old clothes,” she said. “I thought it might be easier than usual, but I thought it might still be a little like moving.”

  “I can bring something back up if you want to carry it down for yourself,” Rod offered.

  I was about to suggest that I treat Owen to lunch when his cell phone rang. After a short conversation, he said, “I hate to run out on you just as the real work is starting, but I’ve got to go. There’s been an incident involving a spell I haven’t countered yet, and they can’t get in and do anything about it until they get the spell stopped.”

  “This is more of that weird stuff that’s been going on?” Gemma asked.

  “Yeah, more of the same.”

  “Do you need my help?” I asked.

  I could tell from his expression that he was about to automatically say no, but then he paused to reconsider and said, “I might, since you wouldn’t be affected by the spell.”

  Philip stepped forward, but Owen shook his head. “No, too big a risk. I know they’re gunning for you, and if anything happens to you, then there’s no way we’re getting that money out of their hands.” The bad guys were using Philip’s family’s financial business to fund their work, after the current owner’s ancestor had turned Philip into a frog to get him out of the way. We were still working on getting the business back for him. “You and Rod stay here and keep an eye on Marcia and Gemma. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  I was halfway down the stairs when I realized I was still dressed for moving. Whatever was going on, I hoped I didn’t die or make the news because I didn’t have time to change.

  When we got to the Diamond District uptown, I saw that you wouldn’t have to be in on the magical secret to know there was trouble. The street was lined with police vehicles, their lights flashing. A couple of fire trucks blocked traffic, and there was even an ambulance. People hovered behind the official vehicles, trying to see what was going on.

  “Come on,” Owen said as he tugged me through the crowd. “And don’t worry, no one can see us.”

  Just inside the police perimeter we came across one of the men in black who’d handled the armored car incident. I felt like we should have flashed badges at each other as we entered the crime scene, but he and Owen just nodded in greeting. “Hi, Mack,” Owen said. “What’s the situation?”

  Mack gave a world-weary sigh. “Some idiot decided it would be fun to knock over a jewelry store by getting an innocent delivery guy with a hand cart to crash through the glass door, bust open a display case, and grab the ice. Only problem was, that glass is pretty damn hard to break. It went into shards, injuring the delivery guy, who’s still inside. When the perp’s victim couldn’t pull off the crime, the wizard panicked and blocked the whole place magically so no one can get in or out. The cops think it’s a hostage situation.”

  “Which is the part you’re having trouble with?”

  “That damned blocking spell. We can’t get past it, either.”

  “Is the wizard inside or out?” I asked.

  “We think he’s inside. That spell isn’t coming from anywhere out here.”

  I turned to look at Owen, and he immediately shook his head. “No. No way. No ho
w.”

  “What?” Mack asked, watching us with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m a magical immune,” I said. “I could get in there.”

  “Oh, now this gets interesting,” Mack said, scratching his chin as a smile twitched his lips. “Very, very interesting.”

  “What good would it do for you to go in there?” Owen asked.

  “For one thing, I could get a first-aid kit in to that injured deliveryman. And for another, doesn’t generating a magical field like that require constant effort and attention if he hasn’t laid all the groundwork for a continuous ward?”

  “You’ve spent way too much time with me,” Owen said, pride and dismay warring on his face.

  “Think about it, Owen. I could distract him, which gives you a chance to break his spell, and we could end this thing.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me,” Mack said with an expansive shrug. “You got anything better?”

  Owen ran his hands through his hair and glared at the scene for a while before turning to me. “You’ll be careful?”

  “No, I’m planning to recklessly endanger myself just to annoy you.”

  That almost made him smile, and he had to fight to keep looking stern. “Okay, then. How do you plan to explain your ability to get in?”

  “The nonmagical people will think I’m a medic, and the wizard should be baffled, which is what we want, right? Then when it’s all over with, I can slip out with the other hostages and you can make me disappear. You’ll be cleaning all this up anyway, won’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah, we’ll be cleaning up,” Mack said. He waved his hands and an EMT jacket and hat appeared in them. He helped me with the jacket, then waved his hands again. A medical bag materialized. “You know what to do with this?”

  “I know basic first aid—Dad made us all take a course at the store, since we work with sharp objects and poisons. The main thing is to stop or slow the bleeding—I mean, aside from coming up with a way to distract our wizard, which is my primary objective.”

  “How do you plan to do that?” Owen asked. He still looked intensely unhappy about the whole situation.

  “I’ll have to improvise,” I said with a shrug that I hoped looked more casual than it felt. In spite of my show of bravado, I was going shaky with the realization of what I was about to do. “It all depends on the wizard himself.”

  Mack took my arm and said, “Let’s get this done,” but before he could lead me away, Owen stepped forward and kissed me fiercely. As Mack led me toward the besieged jewelry store, I glanced over my shoulder at Owen, who looked like he was contemplating sending me back to Texas, and then I was standing in front of the shop.

  I had to clear my throat a couple of times before I could get enough sound to my voice to call out. Not that I really needed to say anything. I felt like my heart was pounding loud enough that they could hear me inside. “Medic!” I shouted through the broken glass of the door. “I’m here to see the injured man. I’m not armed. I’m just here to help.” When there wasn’t a response, I took a few deep breaths, and then with a trembling hand, I reached out and opened the door.

  It was a tiny store, but with the merchandise they sold, they didn’t need a lot of space. Once my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that there were four people inside: an older man in a perfectly tailored suit, an equally well-dressed young woman kneeling on the floor next to a uniformed delivery man who was lying still, and a wild-eyed young man wearing a hooded sweatshirt.

  I figured the agitated young guy had to be our wizard. He backed away from me as I made my way into the shop, one of his hands crooked in an odd position—maybe as part of doing his spell. “How–how did you get in here?” he stammered. That verified my assumption—only the wizard would know that it should have been impossible for anyone to get inside.

  I gave him the blankest, most innocent look I could muster and raised the medical kit. “The police let me through, since I’m a medic,” I said. While he was still stammering and trying to find a way to say that wasn’t what he meant without revealing that he was using magic, I knelt beside the injured man. “How is he?” I asked the woman tending to him.

  “I–I put my scarf on that wound on his arm,” she said. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the wizard and whispered, “He’s got a gun. Aren’t you afraid?”

  Ah, so that’s what that funny hand position was about. He’d conjured an illusion of a gun and was “holding” it. I didn’t see illusions, so I just saw his hand bent in a way that looked very uncomfortable. “I don’t think he’ll shoot us,” I whispered to the woman.

  Just then, she ducked and screamed, and the deliveryman jerked as though he was reacting to something loud or frightening, I turned to see the wizard holding his gun hand out in front of him, like he was taking aim. “Next one won’t miss,” he said, breathing heavily.

  “Oh, did you shoot?” I asked. “I didn’t notice.” He frowned and brought his gun hand up to his face, inspecting it. I shrugged and went back to the injured man.

  I carefully peeled back the scarf—which had a designer logo and probably cost more than my entire outfit—and saw that the gash on the man’s arm was bloody, but not deep and not bleeding badly enough to be life-threatening. I wouldn’t have to stretch my first-aid knowledge to play medic. “The bleeding seems to have slowed, so I’m not going to put much pressure on it, in case there’s some glass in the wound,” I said, making my voice calm and reassuring. I wrapped the wound in gauze and handed the scarf to the woman. “Soak it in cold water, and the blood should come out,” I told her. “If that doesn’t work, try club soda.”

  “I don’t know what happened,” the deliveryman mumbled groggily. “I just suddenly went through the glass door.”

  “Someone must have pushed you,” I said as I bandaged the other cuts on his arms and legs. Considering the amount of glass he’d gone through, I thought he was extremely lucky not to have a severed artery.

  That part of my mission dealt with, I tried to think of something I could do to distract the wizard. He was obviously disconcerted by my arrival—pacing anxiously, his hands shaking, and his shoulders twitching—but since Owen and Mack hadn’t yet stormed the place, I figured he wasn’t distracted enough.

  The wizard loomed over me. “How did you—” he began, then shook his head. “Why are you –”

  “I told you, I’m a medic,” I said, standing up and facing him. “There’s an injured man here. You may be willing to sit around all day, but I figure he appreciates the help. It would be even better if you’d let him go as a sign of good faith. They might be less likely to shoot you as a way of resolving this.”

  “They can’t shoot me,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “Oh, okay,” I said in the exaggeratedly soothing tone you use with crazy people. “But what are your plans? I mean, you’re not going to spend the rest of your life here. You’d run out of food. And, believe me, they’re not getting bored out there. They’re not going to just wander off when the game comes on and let you sneak away.”

  “Shut up!” he screamed, pointing his non-gun finger at me. I felt a wave of magic, but it didn’t do anything to me. He frowned at his finger and gave it an “is this thing on?” shake before whirling to point it at the older man. The older man’s eyes went glassy, then he squawked like a chicken.

  “Father!” the young woman cried out, rushing to his side.

  The wizard turned back to me. His breaths came faster and more shallow. If he kept this up, I wouldn’t have to worry about a distraction because he’d pass out. To help that along, I said, “You do know the Special Situations squad is out there, right? You don’t want to go up against them. They can handle all kinds of stuff, if you know what I mean, and I’m pretty sure you do.” I hoped he wouldn’t know I’d made that up.

  He raised his imaginary gun at me and braced it with his other hand. “Shut up! You don’t know anything! I’m more powerful than everyone out there!”

  “Everyone?” I ask
ed, raising an eyebrow and allowing myself the slightest hint of a smile. “Really? Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m not talking about guns!”

  “Neither am I.”

  His eyes went so wide, they seemed to be mostly whites, and his breathing sped up to sharp little pants. Momentarily forgetting his hostages, he turned to look out the window, and I figured that was my chance.

  I spun with a high kick, hitting his hands and, I hoped, knocking away the imaginary gun. He knew the gun was just an illusion, but the other hostages didn’t. The older man threw himself on the floor, grabbing thin air and then holding his hands up as though aiming at the wizard. While the wizard was still shaking his hands and cursing, I dove at him in a flying tackle that would have made my brothers proud, knocking him to the ground and digging a knee into his stomach. Okay, Owen, is that enough distraction for you? I thought.

  It must have been, for a moment later, the door flew open and Owen and Mack ran into the shop, both of them wearing official-looking police jackets. At the same time, two other guys wearing FBI jackets burst in through a back door. Both of them held their wrists up, showing wide rubber bands like those fundraising and disease-awareness bracelets. They weren’t carrying guns, which led me to believe that they weren’t real FBI agents. They looked more like TV FBI agents. That or the Swedish water polo team. They were blond, and brawny, with toothpaste-commercial smiles.

  The non-FBI guys seemed surprised to see Owen, Mack, and me. For a moment, they lost their pretense of authority as they looked at each other in confusion. “How did you get in here?” one of them blurted before the other could elbow him in the ribs and give him a stern shake of the head.

  The second man then glared at Owen and Mack. “We’ll take over here,” he said. “FBI. I think we outrank you local guys.”

  “It’s not your jurisdiction,” Mack said.

  “It’s part of an ongoing investigation,” the fake FBI guy shot back.

  His partner cleared his throat and said, “I think they know what we are. I recognize them. One of them’s with the Council and the other one is that Palmer guy from MSI.”