Still, it was hardly the making of a fortune, unless it was old family money and the business was just a moderately profitable hobby. Unfortunately, magical businesses weren’t publicly traded, so there was no financial information available to tell me how the business was doing. I’d reached a dead end, especially since I’d have to be careful about any inquiries I made. These people were probably very well connected in the magical world. Anything I said stood a good chance of getting back to them.
There was one place I could think of where I might be able to get the information I wanted. I headed up to Prophets and Lost. It was a weird department that wasn’t entirely reliable, but even if Minerva couldn’t use her powers to tell me all about Matilda’s family and their business, I suspected she’d have all the relevant gossip. We just needed to be able to talk privately. I trusted Minerva, but I wasn’t entirely sure about the rest of her staff.
Minerva was leaning over her crystal ball when I arrived, and it took her a moment to become aware of my presence. “Why, Katie, this is a surprise,” she said. “And I mean that. Odd, you’re psychically invisible to me.”
“All the time, or just now?” I asked.
She frowned. “You’d think I’d have noticed before now if it was all the time.”
“Or maybe there’s never been anything about me you needed to predict.”
“I think I usually read you through Owen, but whatever you’re up to right now, it’s not about him.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Not directly, anyway. Can we speak privately?”
“Of course!” She waved her hand, and the door closed. Gauzy red curtains on rods around the room shifted to surround us. “Not only do they set a mood,” she explained, “but they also keep anyone from prying. Now, how can I help you?”
“You know I’ve been working on all these public magic incidents, right?” I began, then went on to explain my progress and my suspicions. “What can you tell me about Matilda and the Mayfair family?”
“I don’t suppose you got any of her hairs, did you?”
“I didn’t get close enough for any to get on me. And that’s if a single strand of her hair would dare leave her head. Why? Do you need something from her for your spell?”
“Having a piece of her body does help, but I was mostly curious about her roots. There’s no way that color is natural. Ah, well, I guess I’ll have to do it the not so hard way.” She waved her hand over her crystal ball, squinted at it, picked it up and shook it, then looked at it from another angle. “There’s a shadow around her, but I can’t quite tell you what it is. I’m also getting a sense of money problems.”
“They have a few of their family properties up for sale.”
“And this would be why. Their problems are quite recent. Something has been severed—a valuable connection, it looks like.”
“A big client or customer?” I wondered.
“Maybe. It was a dark connection, but losing it was bad for them.”
There was one big recent shift in the magical world that I knew of that likely would have serious financial ramifications for some people. “Collegium?” I guessed.
“For that, I’ve just got gossip, not magical insight. I don’t know that Elias—Matilda’s father—was actually involved directly, but I think the Collegium exclusively used their hotels and services for their travel. They were the safe meeting spaces for their business.”
“But we used normal hotels while I was working undercover for them,” I said.
“Because your boss was up to something shady, remember. He was trying to hide things from his boss. And their hotels are mostly outside the United States. They don’t have one in New York. The really valuable contract was the private airline. You’d think the Collegium wouldn’t have needed travel services, given the interdimensional nature of their office building, but they did do a fair amount of traveling. A lot of it may have been for money laundering purposes, though. No Collegium, and the Mayfairs aren’t quite raking in the dough the way they used to. As high as they live, they’d feel the pinch pretty quickly. Thus, the sell-off. When you have multiple apartments you don’t even use with monthly maintenance fees higher than most people’s annual mortgages, it adds up fast.”
“Which means they’d have a possible motive for exposing magic. They’d then be powerful over nonmagical people.”
“And would have an additional market for their services. Just imagine the appeal of a magical hotel to people who recently learned that magic is real. Or think of what a mundane billionaire would pay to travel magically. I’d say you’re on to something. But tread lightly.”
“Yeah, I’ve been warned. I don’t suppose you see any evidence of what they’re up to?”
“Sorry, hon. And what I see won’t hold up in any kind of hearing. I might sometimes be able to point you in the right direction to find something for yourself, but you still have to make a case. And I’d be really careful who you talk to in the Council. Evidence you share with them might end up in a black hole—or worse, it might be twisted around to come back and bite you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, standing to go. “Thanks for your help, and for the insight.”
“You don’t have to worry about her and Owen.”
“I know.”
“You know intellectually. You don’t feel it, though.” She pounded her fist on her breastbone. “That boy sees no one but you. She may try, but she won’t make any headway. I’m not even sure a love spell would work on him.”
“That’s good to know.”
I did feel a little better as I returned to my office. I was sure I was on the right track. Now I just needed proof that people would listen to and that the Mayfairs wouldn’t be able to buy their way out of. All I had right now was hints of financial trouble and rumors about their connections that might speak to motive, and some inconclusive video. I wondered what Owen could tell me about Matilda and who she might be associated with. I also wondered if I should involve him at all. I didn’t want him getting into any trouble, and I had a feeling his old “friend” would be delighted to bring him down.
I’d barely made it back to my office before I got a call summoning me to a meeting with the boss. Was this about the incident at the festival, or had Minerva betrayed me?
When I arrived in Merlin’s office, I thought for a moment that it might actually just be a meeting to discuss the crisis. Only Rod and Owen were there, with no Council representative. Merlin looked pretty grim as he gestured for me to take a seat. “What, exactly, have you lot been up to?” he demanded before I was fully settled.
“Would you care to narrow that down a bit?” Rod asked.
“We don’t have time for you to get clever,” Merlin snapped.
Before any of us had a chance to respond, the office door opened and Jabez Jones entered. He was as aggressively nondescript as he’d been the previous time. “Ah, you’re all here, good,” he said and planted himself in the chair at the end of the table opposite from Merlin. That pretty much sealed the deal. This was definitely going to be an interrogation. The fact that Rod and I were also included gave me hope that it wasn’t just a witch hunt to go after Owen, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be under scrutiny.
Jones took his time opening his briefcase, pulling out folders, and shuffling through the documents in his folders. After reviewing the pertinent documents, he took out some blank pages and his fountain pen and carefully filled out the top part of his forms. All the while, we sat there, watching. I suspected it was a deliberate tactic to make us nervous. I tried not to let it work on me, but it’s really hard to tell yourself not to be nervous. Your brain and body tend to know better, and thinking about being nervous, even if you’re telling yourself not to be, only serves to make you more tense.
Owen had gone pale. Before he said so much as a word, he looked guilty. I tried shooting him an encouraging smile, but as uneasy as I was, I was afraid it looked more like a grimace. Merlin sat so still I worried some
one had turned him into a statue. I wasn’t sure he even blinked as he watched Jones go through his routine. Only Rod looked somewhat at ease, leaning casually back in his chair, his eyes a little unfocused, like he was daydreaming. The white knuckles where he gripped the arms of his chair gave him away, though.
Finally, Jones said, still looking at his paperwork, “Hmmm, it seems that you were present at yet another suspicious event.” He looked up, glancing at each of us before settling on Owen. “What can you tell us about it?”
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Owen said. He was making a valiant effort to appear relaxed, but his voice sounded tight and strained. “We saw what happened, but I didn’t see who might have caused it.”
Jones waved a hand, and the cabinet doors hiding the television screen opened. The screen came to life, showing video of the crowd at the concert. I recognized the camera angle as one of the pieces of footage I’d been studying. As people around us danced, our group just stood there. “Hmmm,” Jones said. “I notice that none of you seem to be affected by the spell.”
Rod sat up in his seat. “Actually, if you’ll notice, we’re tapping our feet there for a moment. Then we realized what was going on and put up a shield. We had mundanes with us, including one who wasn’t in on the secret. Our shield also blocked those people around us, so we weren’t the only ones unaffected.”
I nearly gasped out loud. I hadn’t noticed that in my viewing of the footage. Matilda was nearby, so was she under our shield, under her own, or causing it all? But no, someone between us and her began dancing, so she had to have been outside our shield. Still, it did cast some doubt on my theory.
“Hmm, you’re implying that there are mundanes you’ve discussed magic with?”
“They’re my roommates,” I explained. “Phelan Idris kidnapped one of them a couple of years ago. That was what revealed magic to them. We merely explained what happened. They’ve been very involved in the magical community since then.” I didn’t know if there was some procedure to follow about reporting that Nita knew now, or if anyone had done whatever procedure that was, so I kept it vague. Theoretically, what I’d said applied to all my roommates, even if Nita had only learned at the festival.
“Hmmm,” Jones said, making a note on his document. “I will have to look into that. Most irregular. Did you get clearance to tell them?”
“As Katie said, they already knew,” Owen said. “All we did was explain what they saw. And it was so blatant that there was no other way to explain it.”
“I will make a note to follow up, but that’s not what we’re here for today.” Jones literally made a note before continuing. “Now, it seems that you, Mr. Palmer, left soon after the dancing began.”
“I got a phone call, and I needed to get away from the music to hear it.”
“A phone call from whom?”
“My foster father, James Eaton.”
“Hmmm. Would you care to show me your call log? I can get your records, but it would be much easier if you cooperated now.”
I felt so sick I was sure I’d turned green. Owen had faked that call, which now was going to look really bad. But Owen didn’t seem to be too bothered as he took his phone out of his pocket and handed it over. Jones glanced at it, said, “Hmmm,” and handed it back before making a note. “Though it seems you left just before that call came in.”
“Are you sure of the time stamp on that security camera?” Rod asked. “It’s hard to imagine it’s kept perfectly in sync with the time on the cellular system. You’re lucky it even registers the correct day.”
“Hmmm, good point.”
“You don’t really think Owen did that spell, do you?” I blurted, unable to hold my silence any longer. “Public displays aren’t his style, especially not dancing. I can’t even talk him into taking dancing lessons so we can do a fancy first dance at our wedding.”
“She has a point,” Owen said, some color coming back into his face as he blushed. “I’m not much for dancing.”
“Hmm, but you weren’t the one dancing.”
“If he doesn’t know how to dance, I doubt he would know the kind of choreography needed to create this kind of spell,” I argued.
Owen blushed even more. “Well, actually, I had to go through a cotillion program when I was a kid, so I theoretically know the steps. I just haven’t done it in years, and I don’t really like doing it.”
Unfortunately, he was too far away for me to be able to kick him in the ankle to make him shut up. I somehow doubted that Jabez Jones was the type to consider that someone that scrupulously honest wasn’t likely to be the culprit. He’d just see the admission as more evidence of possible guilt.
Merlin, who’d remained silent all this time, finally spoke up. “Are you making any specific allegations, Jabez?”
“Merely investigating,” Jones said, sounding entirely unfazed by having one of the most powerful wizards ever irked at him. “But there aren’t a lot of suspects, and Mr. Palmer does look very suspicious.”
I was tempted to mention my theory, but remembered that doing so would probably ruin everything. It was too soon. Only when I had evidence would I dare bring it up in public. It just would have been nice to be able to throw in another name to take some of the heat off Owen.
Jones waved at the TV screen again. “Let’s see what else happens, shall we?”
I tensed, afraid of what was sure to come up next. This video was from an angle I hadn’t seen, and I wondered if he had sources I didn’t. On the screen, I left the group, moving through the dancers, and Nita followed. It was pretty obvious where our shield ended because she started dancing, and I grabbed her and hauled her back. “Your friend seems to have noticed that something is amiss,” he said.
“Yes, because someone was doing unauthorized public magic,” Rod said.
“Which appeared to have some sort of forgetfulness woven into the spell, but Miss Chandler took action to prevent that from working on her friend.”
“Whoa, are you saying it’s my fault that a spell I had no control over, done by someone else, made my friend notice that there was something weird going on?” I asked, leaning forward so intently that Jones moved back just a tiny bit. That gave me a slight burst of satisfaction. “I was getting her to safety. How was I to know that meant she wouldn’t forget dancing when the spell ended?”
“Hmmm. You told her about magic?”
“The paperwork was filed this morning,” Rod said. “We explained an event she saw and experienced. Whoever did all this is responsible for her knowledge.”
“Hmmm. Surely there was some other way you could have handled it. And I understand Miss Chandler spoke to a television reporter, as well.”
“To get her off the scent,” I said. “She got sent a news release, letting her know that something would be happening. And I can’t believe that we apparently have someone trying to expose magic to the world at large, and you’re far more focused on whether one person who lives among people who are involved in the magical world got told. You’re wasting your time here.”
Jones raised an eyebrow ever so slightly in the closest thing he’d shown to an actual facial expression. “Am I? I seem to be closing in on something.”
13
I wished I could take back what I’d said, even if I’d meant every word. Now I’d made Jabez Jones mad, and he’d go out of his way to link us to the magical crimes, which meant I’d have to find the culprit, with firm evidence, to help Owen escape scrutiny.
“While Miss Chandler could, perhaps, have put that more diplomatically,” Merlin said, his voice icy, “she does have a point. You seem to have an agenda here, one that isn’t entirely about determining who is responsible for these public acts of magic.”
I held my breath, waiting for Jones’s response. All he said was, “Hmmm.” I had to sit on my hands to keep myself from slapping the Hmmm off his face. He made a few notes, shuffled his papers, then said without looking up, “You’re dismissed.”
Merlin flinc
hed ever so slightly, probably because it was rather presumptuous for Jones to dismiss people from Merlin’s office. Merlin said, “Thank you for your time, Miss Chandler, Mr. Palmer, Mr. Gwaltney.” Only then did the three of us rise and leave the office. I wanted to sprint out of there, but forced myself to walk in a dignified manner. Then I was tempted to attempt to listen in through the office doors because I would have loved to have known what Merlin and Jabez Jones said to each other.
“The doors are soundproof,” Trix said when I paused as soon as the doors closed behind us. She took in our angry expressions and said, “That bad, huh? He’s going to be a bear the rest of the day. Not literally. Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“What is that guy’s deal?” I demanded.
I’d been speaking more or less rhetorically, but Owen answered anyway. “He’s investigating something that may be a threat to the magical world.” He sounded awfully rational for a person who was the focus of a literal witch hunt.
“Yeah, but if he’s zeroing in on you, he’s missing the boat, in a big way, which is not going to help anyone,” I said.
“It is interesting how he seems to have come to that conclusion,” Rod said. “Given that there’s no real evidence to tie it to you, other than your presence.”
“We don’t know what else he’s looking into,” Owen said. “For all we know, he’s making a big deal of investigating me to throw off the real culprits.”
That was a possibility, I thought, given what I knew about my main suspect. Were they on the same trail? I had a hard time imagining Jabez Jones having enough creativity to be that devious. Then again, maybe all his superficial blandness was the ultimate cover for the world’s greatest investigator.
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