No Quest for the Wicked

by Shanna Swendson

  Chapter Seven

  The others stared at me, confused. Except for Thor, who scowled. “Now you’ve made me lose my place,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, where was I …” His voice returned to the formal, singsong rhythms of his storytelling. “The brooch landed on foreign shores, and new seekers joined the quest.”

  “What’s a Mimi?” Earl interrupted.

  “Hey, you can talk when it’s your turn,” Thor protested, then he groaned. “And now I’ve lost my place again.”

  I turned the newspaper so they could see the column. “Mimi Perkins is my ex-boss, before I joined MSI. And she’s evil. I’ve met some truly bad people in my time, and none of them were scarier than Mimi.”

  Thor opened his mouth to continue his story, but before he could begin speaking again, Rod asked, “What does this have to do with the brooch?”

  “According to the newspaper, Mimi is putting on a gala tonight, and the article mentions that she’s engaged to billionaire Jonathan Martin. We’ve got our missing fiancée. Does nobody read the newspaper anymore? MSI research should have found this in five minutes.” Of all mornings, this had to be the one when I’d gone to work before at least skimming the headlines. I’d have seen Mimi’s photo and drawn devil horns on it, so I surely would have made this connection long before now.

  “I thought she was engaged to someone named Werner,” Owen said.

  “Yeah, a year ago,” I said. “She’s obviously upgraded to someone older and richer.”

  “This looks promising,” Rod agreed. “But what makes you so sure she’s the one who has the brooch?”

  “Because … because …” I trailed off. I knew what I feared, but was that the same thing as having good reason to suspect? “Because it’s the best lead we’ve got,” I finally said. “And, believe me, if it is Mimi, we’re in huge trouble.” They looked skeptical, so I added, “I know it sounds like I’m exaggerating, but the way you describe what the Eye does to people? That’s her normally. She likes power and she’s kind of passive-aggressive about it. She likes people being afraid of her while she pretends to be nice. She’ll act like your best friend, but you never know when she’ll snap and get ugly on you. Now, give her extra sway over people, more power lust, and invulnerability, and we’ve got problems.”

  Under the table, Owen gave my knee a gentle squeeze. I wasn’t sure if he meant it to be reassuring or to tell me to chill. He said, “It is the best lead we’ve got, and from my one meeting with the woman, I have to say that we should at least rule her out.” He turned to me and asked, “Where would we find her?”

  “We know where she’ll be tonight,” Rod said, pointing at the newspaper.

  I shook my head. “That’ll be too late. She’ll have started World War Three by then.”

  “She had the brooch in the box when she left the restaurant, so its effects are shielded,” Owen reminded me. “Maybe she won’t put it on until she gets dressed for the event—and if we’re lucky, she doesn’t know what she has.”

  “The sooner we get to it, the better,” I said. I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to think clearly. Working for Mimi was the reason I’d been willing to respond to a very suspicious-sounding job offer in my e-mail, which led me to a magical company. I had to be desperate to even consider talking to someone about an unspecified job at an unnamed company, but they’d contacted me on a day when Mimi was at her worst, and I couldn’t resist any opportunity to escape.

  But she had no power over me anymore. She wasn’t my boss, and her magic doodad wouldn’t affect someone immune to magic. Not to mention, we were on a more equal footing now. My current job was on the same level as the job she’d held when I worked for her. She may have been engaged to a billionaire, but I was dating a millionaire who was much younger and way hotter.

  And if I was right about her having the brooch, then it was my mission to defeat her. This had just become the best day ever.

  Owen asked, “Where do you think we’d find her before the gala?”

  “It doesn’t sound like she has a day job anymore,” I said. “I bet everyone back at my old company is thrilled about that.” I frowned. “And I wonder why they didn’t let me know. I’d have thought they’d invite me to the ‘Ding, Dong the Witch is Dead’ party.”

  “You were out of town for the first part of the year,” Owen reminded me.

  “Oh yeah. It’s funny how long ago that seems. Well, if she’s not at work, maybe she’s at home. Do you think the office could get her home address? I doubt any info I have would be current.”

  “I’ll call,” Rod said, getting up from the table as he reached for his phone.

  Owen asked, “Any other ideas?”

  “I think I was too successful at repressing that part of my life. I’m sure on the day she has a gala event she’d get her hair and nails done. I can’t remember where she went, even though I used to make those appointments. Chances are, she’s pissed those people off by now, anyway. She never could stick with one stylist for long. And I’m sure she’s upgraded from wherever she went when she was paying for it herself.”

  Thor cleared his throat loudly. “As I was saying before I was interrupted, I joined the search when we learned the brooch was in our city.”

  Granny interrupted before he could get started again. “And you figured this bunch would be most likely to find it first, so you went in with them. It’s a simple enough story. You don’t have to make an epic out of it.”

  “But it loses all the poetry when you put it that way,” Thor complained.

  Rod returned to the table and said, “Apparently, she’s moved in with her fiancé at his Park Avenue penthouse. I’ve always wanted to see inside one of those.”

  “We’ll have to get past a doorman,” I said.

  “That’s not a problem,” Rod said with a shrug. “However, getting there could be a challenge. This group is too big for the carpet or for a cab.”

  “We could split up,” I suggested.

  “You’re not going near the brooch without me,” Thor growled.

  “And I already told you I’m sticking with you,” Granny added.

  I tried not to sigh out loud before I said, “I meant we could take two cabs. Or two carpets. Could we get two carpets?” It was a sign of how urgent I felt this was that I actually hoped we could travel by flying carpet.

  Owen was already on the phone. After he ended the call, he said, “They’re on the way.”

  The waitress brought our check, and I was afraid it didn’t bode well for the kind of teamwork we could expect to see on this mission that our group nearly came to blows over it. “We shouldn’t split it evenly,” Earl said. “I only had a salad and some water, while some people”—he glared at Thor— “had beers and a burger. I’m not paying for his meal.”

  “I provided the entertainment,” Thor protested. “In decent company, I wouldn’t have to pay for my meal at all after a story like that.”

  “Then your people need to get cable if that’s your idea of entertainment,” Earl shot back.

  Thor snarled as he reached for his battleaxe, and then both he and Earl cried out in pain and jerked away from the table. Granny glared at them as she leaned back in her chair, holding her cane threateningly. “Now, boys, behave yourselves,” she scolded. “This is no time for that nonsense.”

  Rod reached for the check and said, “I’ll take care of it and expense it. We’re on company business.”

  “If I’d known that, I would have ordered more,” Earl complained.

  “You elves don’t know how to live,” Thor said smugly as he drained the last of his second beer.

  Earl started to rise to his bait, then glanced at Granny and instead got out of his chair and headed for the door. “I’ll meet you there if you give me the address. I should limit my time with you, in case the Elf Lord’s people catch up with you. My mission depends on maintaining my cover as his loyal employee.”

  He conferred with Rod, and as soon as he was out the door, Tho
r said, “Or maybe he is working for Sylvester, and he has to check in with his boss.”

  Owen and Rod exchanged glances, and then Owen hurried outside to have a quick conversation with Sam. The gargoyle flew after Earl as the rest of us came outside and found two magic carpets waiting for us. Both had little creatures piloting.

  Granny took to carpet travel better than I’d expected she would. In fact, she seemed totally unfazed, while I clung to the carpet in a death grip. “Where do you put your groceries?” she asked after a particularly harrowing turn as our driver seemed to be trying to make sure no one followed us.

  “We don’t generally use these things for shopping,” Owen explained. “They’re more for rapid transit. They require too much magic for everyday use.”

  Granny leaned over the edge to look at the street below, and I fought off a wave of vicarious vertigo. “I can see how cars wouldn’t be much use for getting around quickly here,” she said.

  We reached Park Avenue, and the carpets landed in front of an imposing apartment building. “Should we wait for Earl?” Rod asked after we’d disembarked.

  “Here I am,” Earl said, rounding the corner. “No other elves are present.” Sam perched on the building’s awning and gave Owen a nod that apparently indicated that the elf had come directly without stopping to report to Sylvester.

  “Okay, now to get past the doorman,” Rod said, rubbing his hands together. He gave the doorman a wave as he approached, and I sensed a surge of magic. Normally, people saw whatever Rod wanted them to see, but that didn’t happen this time.

  Instead, the doorman moved to confront us. “What is your business here?” he demanded.

  Rod took a surprised step backward. Then he recovered and said smoothly, “We’re here to see Mr. Martin.”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “We should be on the list.”

  The doorman stepped inside, then returned with a clipboard. Rod waved a hand at the clipboard as the doorman read it. “I don’t see any guests listed here for Mr. Martin,” the doorman said.

  “There must be some mix-up,” Rod said. He looked perfectly at ease, like this was no big deal, but I could hear the tension in his voice and I felt the magic as he gave it everything he had. Could the doorman be immune to magic?

  The doorman then laughed out loud and said, “You think to fool me with your illusions? You MSI people don’t know the first thing about magic.”

  Earl then opened his mouth, and the haunting sound of elfsong poured out. The doorman laughed at that, too. “You think that would work twice, elf?” he sneered. “We’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know about magic.”

  Thor unsheathed his battleaxe and stepped forward. “But how much have you forgotten about steel?” he asked, swinging the axe back and forth.

  The doorman held out his hand, and Thor froze. Granny stepped up and swung her cane at him, but the cane bounced backward like it had hit something solid before it struck the doorman. Rod and Earl teamed up on a spell, but the doorman was apparently protected from it because he just laughed. Even Sam flying down from above wasn’t able to get past the doorman.

  “We do have tranquilizer darts,” I said to Owen.

  “I hate to use them when we aren’t even dealing with the Eye. It’s probably going to get much worse.”

  “Worse than getting our butts kicked by a doorman?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Very likely. But a dragon guarding the gate is a good sign that the Eye is here, so we don’t have much of a choice.” He took the case from his breast pocket, removed one of the darts, then replaced the case. “I doubt throwing it would work. I’ll have to get past his defenses, myself, then jab him directly. I’ll need a diversion.”

  Thor was still frozen, but Rod, Earl, Sam, and Granny were giving it their all, each of them trying to get past the doorman to the side or above him or, in Granny’s case, by crawling past him. He easily repelled all their attacks, shouting words I didn’t recognize as he did so. “One diversion, coming up,” I said. I then approached the doorman, smiling as he threw magic at me without having any effect. That disconcerted him enough that Owen was able to lunge at him and jab the dart in his neck. A second later, the doorman slumped into Rod’s arms. Owen picked up his feet and the two of them carried him inside.

  I glanced around, worried that even jaded New Yorkers would look askance at someone ambushing a Park Avenue doorman, but Sam said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I had us veiled the whole time.”

  With some relief, I joined the others. Thor, who’d revived at the doorman’s collapse, came staggering inside a moment later. Sam gestured the door closed behind him as he flew into the lobby.

  “I’d say he wasn’t the real doorman,” Owen remarked, pointing out the bound man lying in his underwear behind the doorman’s desk. Owen knelt beside him, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive,” he said. Rod magically untied the real doorman, then waved his hand and sent the ropes spiraling around the imposter’s wrists.

  “If somebody else got here first, we’d better get upstairs,” I said. We squeezed the seven of us into the small elevator for the ride all the way to the top floor, where the doors opened into a private vestibule. It didn’t look like there’d been a scuffle there. I glanced at Owen, and he shook his head.

  “I’m not feeling any magic in use. Maybe the doorman was just keeping us away from the Eye.”

  “Does anyone feel a strange pull?” I asked.

  “Nope,” Rod said. “If it’s here, it’s in the box. So, how do we want to deal with this if she’s home?”

  “Let’s pretend I’m paying her a personal visit,” I said. “She thinks I’m useless and stupid—not remotely a threat. If she isn’t wearing the brooch, I’ll distract her, Owen can tranquilize her, and you guys go looking for it.”

  “And what if she has it on her?”

  I flexed my fingers and formed a fist. “Then I’ll punch her lights out and take it away from her.”

  Owen raised an eyebrow. “Make sure she has it before you hit her.”

  “Spoilsport. What happened to better safe than sorry?” I took a deep breath, and my hand only trembled a little as I reached out to ring the doorbell.

  The chimes inside sounded like cathedral bells, echoing out into the vestibule, and I gestured for the others to move to the side, where they wouldn’t be immediately visible from the doorway. There was no response for a long time, and I was almost ready to give up when the door opened a crack. A uniformed maid, complete with frilly cap, stuck her head out. She had the kind of fear in her eyes that I recognized from staff meetings with Mimi. She rattled off something in a language I couldn’t identify. I glanced at Owen, our resident linguist, but he shrugged and shook his head. I figured it was just like Mimi to import a maid from some exotic locale—probably some place where they were used to living under the rule of tyrants and didn’t know anything about human rights.

  “Um, hi,” I said. “Is Mimi home? I’m a friend of hers. We used to work together.”

  The maid said haltingly, “Sorry. No English.”

  “Okay,” I said. In desperation, I tried charades, pulling my face into an exaggerated snarl and hissing as I raised my hands in claws.

  The woman flinched but grinned in recognition as she nodded. She then shook her head. “Not home. Left this morning. Gone all day. Not back until late, late night,” she said, pausing between words as though running them through a mental phrase book.

  “I don’t suppose you know where she’d be now,” I said wistfully, but the maid just shook her head. “Well, thank you. You’ve been very helpful. And I am so, so sorry. We’re doing everything we can to make sure it doesn’t get worse.”

  After she’d closed the door, Thor asked, “Now where should we go?”

  “If Mimi hasn’t been home since lunch, she probably still has the brooch with her,” I said. “And you can usually find Mimi by the trail of shattered people she leaves in her wake. I bet we could walk up and down Pa
rk Avenue and look for people who work in service industries who are either crying or setting things on fire. There could even be riots.” Then I had an idea. “Or I could call Gemma and find out who the most exclusive hairstylist in the city is. Mimi would get her hair done before a gala like this, and we might find her there.”

  Owen handed me his phone, and I was already dialing before we reached the lobby. Gemma gave me the addresses of the top hair and nail salons, and I scribbled them on a notepad I had in my purse, then followed the others outside. As soon as I got through the door, I said, “I’ve got a few leads. It might be a good idea to split up to check them all out as quickly as possible, but surveillance only. We’ll call each other before moving in if we find her.”

  They didn’t respond, and it took me a moment to notice what they were looking at. The flying carpets were gone, and the two tiny drivers were lying on the sidewalk. “Wait, our carpets were stolen?” I asked. “They didn’t even have radios in them. And I thought crime had taken a downswing.”

  “It’s a safe bet they weren’t joyriders,” Rod said as he bent to check on the drivers.

  “And they won’t be stripping them for parts,” Owen added.

  “Someone is sabotaging us,” Thor said, hefting his battleaxe in his hands. “I suspect the Elf Lord. He doesn’t want his plot disrupted.”

  “This doesn’t seem like Sylvester’s style,” Earl said. “He’s more likely to let us find the brooch and then take it from us than to try to stop us from finding it.”

  “On the bright side, we’re definitely on the right track,” I said. “We’ve got to be if someone is bothering to get in our way.”

  “They tried to stop us at Macy’s, and that wasn’t even a real lead,” Owen reminded me.

  “The fake doorman knew Earl used elfsong earlier, so he must be connected to the black suits. Maybe that was about stalling us before we could figure things out and catch up with Mimi. Are the drivers okay?”

  “They’ll be fine,” Rod said as he straightened.