Enchanted, Inc.

by Shanna Swendson

  “Have you ever tried marketing?” Most of them looked blank, but one of the men grinned.

  “Marketing is basically letting people know what you have to sell and getting that product to the right people,” he said.

  Merlin still looked blank, but he was new to this century. “Surely you’ve seen ads,” I said. “Have you ever watched TV?”

  Faces lit up all the way around the table, and I could see comprehension dawning in their eyes. “Those ads tell you why you’re better off buying this car or shampoo or soap than you would be if you bought the other kind. That’s based on market research, which is finding out what your customers are like—what do they need, what concerns them, what do they prefer? Then you create an ad that addresses those things, letting your customers know that what you’re offering them is exactly what they need, that it will solve their problems, and that you’re the only one who can do so.”

  “So we tell our customers why they should choose our spells?” Merlin asked. He looked like a little kid who’s just figured out how the multiplication table works and can’t wait to multiply everything in sight. If I wasn’t careful, MSI would be running a Super Bowl ad soon.

  “Exactly! You might not want to come right out and say that your competitor is evil and his spells will do harm, but you do want to let people know why what you’re selling is their best bet.”

  “If we can put a big dent in his sales, make it harder for him to get his spells into the market, we may be able to buy enough time to come up with a counterspell,” Owen mused. “I like it. Great idea, Katie.”

  “So, we’ll try marketing,” Merlin said, rubbing his hands together. “How do we do that?”

  “Let me guess, you don’t have a marketing department,” I said. Of course they didn’t, not if I’d had to define the concept of marketing for them. “How have you made sales in the past? How have you let customers know what’s available?”

  They all looked at one another. “We have a sales department,” the man who’d defined marketing said. He looked like a sales guy, not the kind wearing a plaid sport coat, but the kind who could convince someone to spend several thousand dollars on a diamond ring because otherwise they wouldn’t be investing properly in their relationship. He was as good-looking as Owen, but in a slick, plastic way that I didn’t find attractive. Come to think of it, he looked like a Ken doll brought to life. At this company, I wouldn’t rule out the possibility. “The salesbeings work with the retailers to let them know what we have available, and the retailers let their customers know. There’s been no alternative to our commercially produced spells, so we haven’t needed to do much in the way of marketing.”

  “Not on a widespread level,” Owen added. “There are a few niche products, and there’s always been kitchen witchery, homemade spells people develop to suit their individual needs, but for centuries magical people have known that MSI spells are the best way to go. We take care of all that necessary and sometimes messy and dangerous trial and error.”

  “Could you do this marketing for us, Katie?” Merlin asked.

  Oh boy. Now I was in over my head. I’d been responsible for marketing the family store, but even in our worst crises with competition, that had amounted to putting ads in the local weekly paper and mailing the occasional flyer to our customer list. My job as a corporate marketing assistant had taught me very little aside from the process of getting brochures produced. But I had taken some marketing courses for my degree, and it seemed I was better qualified than anyone else in this crazy company. Magic immunity or not, I appeared to have my own brand of sorcery. Maybe I wasn’t so far out of Owen’s league after all.

  “I guess so,” I said. “It’s not going to be a major campaign, but anything is better than what you have—or haven’t—been doing up to this point. The way I see it, the main thing you’ll want to get across is what Owen said, that you’ve been the source for spells for centuries. How can anyone else compare? You can brag about how safe your spells are, and how they’re extensively tested for effectiveness. Get in a subtle message that no newcomer can offer that, so naturally everyone will want to go with the tried-and-true provider instead of the upstart.”

  “Wonderful!” Merlin said. “You’ll work with Mr. Hartwell here. He heads up our sales department.” The plastic man stepped forward and shook my hand.

  “But you’ll start tomorrow. For now, Katie must rest,” Merlin continued. “Back to your offices.” He all but chased the others away. Owen looked like he was about to put up a fuss, but a glare from Merlin apparently changed his mind. Once they were gone, Merlin returned to the sofa where I sat and took my chin in his fingers. He studied me for a long moment, then smiled. “You’ll be fine. How is your headache?”

  I’d forgotten I was supposed to have a headache. “It’s gone, I think. It’s just a bit sore where I bumped it.”

  “Excellent. We can’t thank you enough for stopping that intruder.”

  “I take it he was supposed to be invisible.”

  “So we were very fortunate that you were there. We don’t often have need for verification services in the research department, though I believe we should start incorporating immunes into our security force to guard against future intrusions.”

  “Who is this Idris guy, anyway?” I asked.

  He sat next to me on the sofa and clasped his hands together over his knees. “I’ve never met the gentleman. It was because of him that I was brought back. But from what I understand, he was on Owen’s staff. Quite brilliant, but not entirely ethical. He’d unearthed some ancient spells and was working to modernize them, but they were dark spells, spells to use for harm. We don’t allow that, so we certainly wouldn’t want to market spells specifically designed to cause harm. He conducted unauthorized tests of these spells, so he was let go. Then we got word that he was continuing his work on his own and intended to provide dangerous spells to the magical community. It was one of the biggest threats we’ve faced in centuries, so the board saw fit to bring me back to face it.”

  “Do you really think he could cause serious trouble?”

  “That, we don’t know. Our people haven’t been tested like this for a long time, although problems have arisen every so often. I’d like to think that most folks will ignore his spells because they have no need of them. But it’s also possible that this will encourage the less noble elements of society to be bolder, and that’s a potential problem left over from the last time we faced a test like this. Our people removed the leadership of that challenge, but the more restive elements are still out there. I’m afraid the outcome this time could be an all-out magical war.”

  I shuddered and tried to swallow the lump that had developed in my throat. Suddenly, as a way of stopping a major magical war, my little marketing idea seemed awfully weak. If marketing was the key to saving the world, then we were in big trouble, considering the marketing people I’d worked with. I had a frightening mental image of Mimi wearing a brass bra and a helmet with horns as she faced down the rampaging hordes by flinging brochures at them. No, that would never work. I reminded myself that I was just buying time for Owen and his people to come up with a way to defeat these evil spells. I wasn’t being asked to save the world.

  Merlin reached over and squeezed my hand. “We are fortunate to have you with us,” he said. “Your idea may be what saves us.” Great, and just when I’d convinced myself that what I was doing wasn’t such a big deal. I didn’t need to be reminded of the pressure.

  I fought back a groan. “I hope it works. I’ve never run an entire marketing campaign before. I’ve only been an assistant.” And the campaigns I’d been involved in hadn’t been particularly good. It didn’t help that I knew so little about the magical community. Did they have their own media? How did they get their magical news? They were certainly connected, but was it just gossip or was there a more organized dissemination of information? I had a lot of questions for Mr. Hartwell. I doubted Merlin was the best source for information on mode
rn magical life. He was probably nearly as lost there as I was.

  “You’ll do fine,” Merlin assured me. He had that same creepy confidence in his eyes that I’d seen in Owen at times, and I suspected he wasn’t just trying to make me feel better. He was telling me something he knew for a fact. I wondered how that precognition thing worked, but that was a question for another time and place. I had so many questions, and it never seemed to be the right time to ask them. For instance, there was a lot I wanted to know about Merlin, but neither of us could go into that right now.

  “I’d better get back to my office,” I said, handing him the cloth with the poultice on it. “Thanks for patching me up.”

  “It was the least I could do, given the service you’ve rendered us.”

  Only then did it really hit me that I’d actually saved the day, in more ways than one. I’d nabbed the intruder and I’d come up with the big idea. Not bad for a day’s work. While I was still feeling confident, I made a detour by Rod’s office, thinking I might as well have that talk with him now. It would minimize the amount of time I had to spend in the verification hellhole.

  Isabel greeted me like a whirlwind when I entered the outer office. “Oh, you poor dear! Are you all right?” she asked, enveloping me in a suffocating hug.

  “I’m fine. Or I will be. Is Rod in? I need to talk to him.”

  Just then Rod’s office door opened and he stuck his head out. His face brightened when he saw me. “Katie! I heard about what happened. Good show!”

  “Yeah, thanks. Have you got a minute?”

  “Of course, come in.” He ushered me into his office, shut the door, and steered me toward the big overstuffed chair I’d sat in the last time. Was it only yesterday? “What did you need to talk about?”

  “Well, the verifiers and other immunes are pretty important to you people, especially now, right?”

  “Of course!”

  “Then why do you have them working in such a pit? Not to mention making them have the boss who tends to turn green and grow horns when he’s angry. What genius thought of putting him with the one group of people who can actually see what he’s like?”

  “You mean Gregor still has that anger problem? He said he got that treated.”

  “Anger problem? So, that’s what they call it. Well, he’s got it in a big way. Fortunately, nobody seems to care much, but it still doesn’t make for a pleasant working environment. What is he anyway? Angie swore he was human, but I’m not sure I believe that.”

  “Oh, he’s human. There was a bad lab accident. He used to run Theoretical Magic until he accidentally turned himself into an ogre. I’m not sure what he was trying to do that had that particular side effect. It wasn’t entirely reversible, but they were able to cure him enough so he could lead a normal life. It must not have worked as well as they thought. Owen got his job when he was transferred.”

  “Well, anyway, morale down there sucks. Nobody except Kim seems to care enough to try, and I’d keep an eye on Kim. She’s ambitious, but I’m not sure her priority is the good of the company. All of those people are bored. If you want to keep them or get anything productive out of them, you’re going to have to do better.” Then I had a burst of inspiration based on my earlier conversation with Merlin. “Hey, I know, maybe you could assign the verifiers to offices in various departments. That way, they’d be around to spot people trying to play invisible while they wait for assignments. They wouldn’t feel quite so useless or bored, and they’d get more of a chance to interact with the company. That might make them feel like part of the big picture, so they’d care more about what they do.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll talk to Gregor. Meanwhile, I understand you have a project of your own to work on.”

  This place had the fastest office grapevine I’d ever seen, including the one in my family-owned store where most of the employees were related and lived under the same roof. “Yeah. Seems like it. I guess that takes me out of the pool for a while.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you mind all that much,” he said with a wry grin.

  “Not in the least. Those people are weird, and around here, that’s really saying something.” I started to get up, then had an idea and sat back down. “Maybe you can help me with this.”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “I don’t know enough about the magical world to know how to market to it. How do you all get your news?”

  “Most of us have cable.”

  I shook my head. “What about magical news? You don’t have something like the cable magic channel or anything like that, do you? How do you find out about news in the magical world?”

  “Well, there are a few good Web sites out there, but most of us get the major bulletins from the crystal network.” He waved toward that thingy that sat on his desk.

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed those things. They seem to be a combination office phone and e-mail system.”

  “More or less. Like e-mail, you can communicate directly to a particular individual, or you can receive a message sent to many people. If there’s anything major that everyone in the magical community needs to know, that’s how it’s sent.”

  “And how do you decide what’s major enough for everyone to get it?”

  “There’s a group of people who manage mass communications for the network. If you have an announcement, you send it through them. If they think it’s worthy, they pass it on. An individual can’t do a mass message.”

  I sighed. “That makes things difficult for me, if you can’t get advertising out there. This would be so much easier if we could buy air time on TV, or the magical equivalent, and do a really good image ad.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

  “You were very helpful. I’m just going to have to be more creative. And I have to get back to my own office.” I forced myself out of the chair before I got too comfortable and drifted off. Maybe that concussion was worse than I thought. Rod stood and came around his desk to open his office door for me.

  “Let me know if you have any other questions,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, I will. You may get tired of me.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think there’s much danger of that. And thank you for your suggestion. I’ll think about it.”

  After the exciting afternoon I’d had, I hated going back to the dreary verification pool. As soon as I saw my coworkers, I couldn’t help but wonder if my great idea about relocating the verifiers was so smart after all. The rest of the group seemed to enjoy their leisure on company time. How would they react to being asked to work harder? Would they really feel more like a part of the company? Thinking about it made my head hurt.

  Speaking of my head, I made a stop at the bathroom before going to my desk and took a look at myself in the mirror. There was a knot forming on my temple where I’d hit the wall. It was currently red, but it was the kind of red that turns black and blue by morning. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain a goose egg like that to my roommates. I tried pulling my hair across my face, but that made it look worse by drawing attention to it. I needed to come up with an excuse.

  Fortunately, I wasn’t dating anyone, so they couldn’t jump to the conclusion that any lame excuse I gave them was a cover-up for an abusive boyfriend. They might think I had an abusive boss, but since I’d survived a year with Mimi, they had to know it couldn’t get much worse. I supposed I’d just have to tell them I’d bumped into a wall, which was the truth, more or less.

  It wasn’t fair. Marcia came home with stories about big deals she’d had a part in, and Gemma was always telling us about the famous designers and models she ran into in the course of her job. Until now I’d never had anything more exciting than tales of Mimi’s latest outburst. They’d listened politely and had done a pretty good job of faking interest, but I couldn’t help but wish I had a job where I could do something important or interesting. Now I finally had something worth talking about, and I couldn’t tell anyone about it.

 
The closing-time stampede struck just as I returned to my desk. Still deep in thought, I gathered my things and left the building. “That was some catch, sweetheart,” Sam said as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

  “Yeah, not bad for a day’s work, huh?”

  “Are you kidding? That was spectacular. I’d try to get you transferred to Security if I thought I could get away with it.”

  “All it took was a good eye and a strong set of lungs. Owen did all the work.”

  “Yeah, but he wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t been there, pointing the way.”

  That was something to think about. Owen might be one of the most powerful wizards around, but that intruder could have got away with stealing stuff from his department if I hadn’t been there. “It’s nice to be needed,” I said with a smile.

  “And it sounds like you have even more on your plate now. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be running the place by Christmas.” He saluted me with one wing. “Now, go home and get some rest. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you tomorrow.”

  He was right about that. I had a marketing plan to put together and a magical war to fight. This company and these people needed me. More important, they knew they needed me, and they were willing to listen to me. It was enough to make me want to call Mimi just to blow a big raspberry in her ear. Look out, world. Little Katie Chandler wasn’t quite so ordinary anymore.

  My head was still hurting and I was tired when I got home, so I should have been glad to be the first one there. It would give me a chance to rest and recover a little before I had to face Gemma and Marcia. But I was about to explode from nervous, restless energy. Even if I couldn’t talk about what had happened, I needed to talk to someone. I could at least tell them I had an important new project. That sure beat having nothing better to say about work than “I typed another memo today.”

  Fortunately, Gemma and Marcia got home within a few minutes of each other so I didn’t have to decide between holding myself back or telling the same story twice. As soon as we’d all changed out of our work clothes and opened the take-out containers they’d brought in, I blurted, “You won’t believe what happened at work today.”