No Quest for the Wicked

by Shanna Swendson

  “Yeah, but when you don’t have magic, you’d better be technologically corrupt. I need to get used to it.”

  “I don’t mean to alarm you kids,” Granny said, “but we’ve got more problems.” We turned to see water rising up the stairs. It had made it past Granny’s wall of vines and was flooding the next step.

  Sam was flying back and forth above us, talking into thin air. “Yeah, I mean now. What did ya’ think I meant, whenever it’s convenient for you to drop by and help in the attack that’s happenin’ right now? I wouldn’t want to interrupt your dinner by being ambushed.” I didn’t see a phone, so I presumed I was getting a look at the way Sam communicated. “You’d better be here, ’cause if I die from this, I’ll haunt you.” He reached up a hand to tap his ear before saying, “Help should be on its way, assuming they don’t get lost or sidetracked.”

  Owen’s phone rang, and when he answered, Rod was shouting so loudly that I could hear his voice coming through the phone from where I stood. “You had to go after an army, didn’t you?” he said. “There are hundreds of them. We can’t deal with this.”

  Owen and I looked at each other, frowning. “How many do you see?” Owen asked me.

  The wall of flame was fading, as Owen had predicted, and through it I could see the puritans. It was hard to count, since they were moving around, but there weren’t hundreds. “Five, maybe six,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’ve got.” Into the phone, he said, “There are only five or six. The rest are illusion. Just hit them with something.”

  “And he’d better hurry,” Granny said. I glanced down to see that the water was two steps below where we stood. It wouldn’t drown us unless the wall of fire held it in, but it could make it very difficult for us to stay out of the flames.

  “I am definitely coming in late tomorrow,” I said. “I so deserve comp time for all this. That is, if we survive.”

  A moment later, there were shouts of horror from the gallery at the top of the stairs, and the wall of magical flame vanished entirely. We ran up the rest of the stairs, the rising water at our heels, and into the museum. “What did you do?” Owen asked into the phone.

  I overheard the response as Rod said, “I gave them a little Hitchcock treatment.”

  “Very nice bird illusions,” Granny said with a satisfied nod. The puritans ducked and flailed their arms as they fended off attacks from imaginary birds. That gave us an opportunity to make a run for the adjoining gallery, aiming for the Great Hall.

  We’d almost made it when the bad guys realized that we were getting away, and apparently their mission was more important to them than their fear of a swarm of vicious birds because they came after us. We reached the entrance to the next gallery and found more puritans blocking the way. We were surrounded—again.

  Then there was a guttural roar as Thor rushed out of the adjacent gallery, swinging his battleaxe and hitting one of the puritans on the kneecap. Another puritan rushed at Owen and me, and Owen swung a fist, hitting him squarely in the jaw and knocking him down. Owen shook his hand and grimaced in pain as he resumed running.

  We made it into the next gallery, where Rod and Earl were waiting among a forest of Greek and Roman statuary, and I turned to see that Thor was escorting Granny through the remaining magical puritans toward us. I shouted a warning when I saw one of them closing in, but Sam swooped down on him, hitting him in the head with his stone talons.

  The two remaining puritans came after us. Rod fought back with everything he had. “Hypocrites!” he gasped in between shouting spells. “I recognize that spell. It’s a recent MSI offering. They’re using the modern magic they supposedly want everyone else to give up.” He raised his voice and shouted, “And I bet you’ve got a computer and a cell phone, too!”

  A rushing noise above made me look up, and then I cried out in joy when I saw that it was gargoyles. Our reinforcements had arrived! They flew the length of the gallery, but instead of attacking our opponents, they came straight at us, and not in a friendly greeting way. They were nearly upon us before we realized they were the enemy—more stained, mossy, old gargoyles like the one that had attacked us earlier. Now we were the ones ducking and taking cover from an aerial attack, only the attack on us was real, not an illusion of birds.

  I swatted away a gargoyle that pulled at my hair, grazing my knuckles on the rough stone. A second later, someone knocked me to the ground and rolled me out of the way. I heard a thud as something hard and heavy hit the floor where I’d just been, then I looked up to see Owen leaning over me. “Oh, hi,” I said to him, a little dazed. I blinked to see that he’d moved me behind a headless Greek statue, and nearby a mossy old gargoyle with a chipped face was staggering on the floor, struggling to fly again. “Wow, thanks,” I added.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. I was just sitting up when I heard another rushing sound above. I ducked, crouching against the wall and protecting my head.

  I heard Granny shouting the words of the spell Owen had taught her earlier for turning the antique gargoyles back to stone. But before she finished the spell, Owen shouted “Wait! Don’t! Our gargoyles are here now.” I opened my eyes and looked up to see that Sam’s reinforcements had arrived and were engaging the enemy in aerial combat just below the gallery’s soaring ceiling. They moved around so fast and were so entangled with the other gargoyles in fierce dogfights that it would have been impossible to target the spell.

  A mossy gargoyle mistimed a dive and hit the floor. “Granny, you know what to do!” Owen said. She shouted the spell while waving her hands at the gargoyle, and it turned back to lifeless stone.

  “That’s one down,” she said, brushing her hands as she smiled in satisfaction. Then she raised her head and called out, “Sam, send them my way!”

  The MSI security gargoyles double-teamed the mossy attackers. One headed toward the puritans, as though going on an attack run, and got the enemy gargoyle to give chase, with another MSI gargoyle flying behind to herd the enemy past Granny so she could cast the spell. Soon, there were lifeless stone carvings interspersed among the ancient Greek statuary. I was impressed with her precision as she avoided hitting any of the artwork—or any of us—with the falling gargoyles.

  “It’s too bad we aren’t in the medieval art department,” Rod said as he surveyed the gallery. “These don’t look right here.”

  “I wonder if that’s where they came from,” I said. “The curators are going to wonder how they escaped.” That made me think of something. “Hey, where are the security guards? You’d think that with the museum having an event and all the event people traipsing in and out, they’d have guards. And you’d think they’d have noticed all this.”

  “We’ll probably find them tied up, unconscious, in their underwear, if these guys are true to form,” Owen said.

  The MSI gargoyles now had enough of an upper hand for us to flee. “Finish ’em off, boys,” Sam instructed before we ran out of the gallery, Sam flying above us.

  We followed Rod through the Great Hall and into the medieval art exhibit—which was distinctly lacking in gargoyles or even empty spots where gargoyles should have been—and then turned into the Arms and Armor galleries. We entered a larger space, and at first I thought a medieval army was coming at us. A group of knights on horseback filled the middle of the room. When we got closer, I saw that they were just empty suits of armor made for horses and men. But then they went into motion, the armor clanking as the empty metal shells drifted across the floor, moving as though they were filled with horses and riders.

  I cried out in shock, but Rod said, “Don’t worry, they’re on our side. I set this up earlier.” The knights rode to the gallery entrance and lowered their lances, blocking the way. “How’s that for medieval magic?” Rod crowed.

  We ducked into a side gallery and circled up for a conference. “I doubt those are the only people they have here,” Owen said. “Not only do they want to keep us from interfering with their scheme, but they’ll have peopl
e here to make a big show of defending the world against the owner of the brooch. That’s what this whole plot is about, after all.”

  “They’re setting up the gala just through there,” Rod said, pointing toward a nearby doorway. “I’ll give you a disguise illusion so you can blend in as staff. That should get you closer to Mimi and the brooch. The rest of us will split up and watch the entrances to keep out as many of the puritans as possible.” He waved his hands at Owen and me, and I tingled from the magic, but since the illusion affected the viewer and the magic didn’t work on me, I couldn’t see any difference in Owen. However I looked, I was glad that Mimi wouldn’t recognize me. Facing her while dressed as a catering waitress would be humiliating. You never want your ex-boss to think you’ve failed in your career.

  We jumped at the sound of clanging metal behind us and moved to peer back into the larger hall. The magically animated knights were engaged in a fierce battle against puritan attackers. “They’ll figure out how to break my spell sooner or later, so you two had better go,” Rod said.

  “Okay, then, let’s get this over with,” Owen said. It wasn’t the most rousing pep talk I’d ever heard, but it was what we were all feeling. He glanced at Granny and added, “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to stay with Rod and the others.”

  She shook her head firmly. “Not on your life, son. I’m sticking with Katie.”

  “It could get ugly in there, and if you show any sign of having been compromised by proximity to the Eye, we’ll have to deal with you,” he warned. Since I had the darts, I knew I’d be the one to deal with her. I wondered if I could bring myself to tranquilize my own grandmother. It was too bad my mother wasn’t here. She’d jump at the chance.

  “You do what you need to do,” Granny told Owen. “I trust you to do the right thing.”

  “Then I’d better disguise you, too, in case they’ve had a good look at you,” Rod told her.

  “I can fix my own face,” Granny said. “I’ve been doing this sort of thing since before you were born.” I raised an eyebrow at that. Of course, I’d never have noticed, but I couldn’t help but wonder why my grandmother would ever need a disguise.

  I couldn’t tell what she’d done, but Rod grinned. “Yeah, that should hide you,” he said. “Now, go get that brooch.”

  The event space, an indoor courtyard, was connected to the small arms and armor gallery. Round tables were scattered about the space, with chairs arranged around them. Although the room was being set up, the staff were busy taking tablecloths off the tables and pulling cloth covers off the chairs. They didn’t look too happy about it.

  Someone passed us, talking on a cell phone. “Yes, I know that’s what she ordered,” he said. “But this is what she says she wants. I don’t suppose you have that order in her handwriting or have her on video making that order? Yeah, she’s claiming this is what she ordered and we’re the ones who messed up. See what you can do on short notice, and we may need extra hands once we get the right colors here. Thanks.”

  “Mimi strikes again,” I whispered to Owen as we moved away from the guy on the phone. “Now you see why it was so easy to recruit me away from her.”

  “Do you see her?” he asked.

  I scanned the room, then shook my head. “Not at the moment. Maybe she’s getting her hair done. Or she’s out back, biting the head off a puppy. Do they have medieval torture implements on display here? We might find her in there, shopping.”

  Everywhere we turned in the room, there was more evidence of Mimi’s influence. A gorgeous ice sculpture of a graceful woman in a flowing gown stood on one of the tables, and a man nearby muttered to himself, “Not thin enough, huh? Give me a blowtorch, and I’ll give you thin.”

  A woman wearing an apron with a florist’s logo on it cleaned up a scattered arrangement that looked like it had been angrily knocked off a table as she muttered, “Not fresh! The roses were cut this morning! They still had dew on them! And if you order flowers that have to be flown in, they can’t be same-day fresh. I could scatter dirt and seeds. That would be fresh.”

  Nearby, other people in the same aprons glanced at her worriedly while they rearranged the floral displays, pulling out individual stems. Another woman ran in with a bucket full of flowers. “You wouldn’t believe the mess back there,” she said. “They do know there’s an event tonight, right? Because it looked like they were doing maintenance on the entrance from the parking garage.” She set down her bucket. “Okay, let’s see if these suit Her Majesty.” Then she bit her lip and glanced around guiltily. The florists went to work sticking those flowers into the arrangements.

  “I don’t think she’s been wearing the brooch,” I said to Owen. “Wouldn’t that make people have to follow her? Instead, we’re getting rebellion. At this rate, she’ll need the Knot to get out of here alive. They’re a hairbreadth away from pitchforks and torches.”

  “Is there a chance that she really doesn’t have the brooch?” he asked, his forehead creasing. “The puritans could have set us up to believe this is it and get us off-track so they can create their big show with the real owner.”

  I shook my head. “No, remember, the elves were at the restaurant where Mimi got the brooch, and they’re magically tracking the Knot, not following sketchy research. They also weren’t at Macy’s when we were following the false lead.”

  Rod, Thor, and Earl were in place now, with Rod guarding the main doorway and the other two lined up at the sides, where they could keep an eye on the room. I caught Rod’s eye and shook my head. He nodded acknowledgment.

  We looked conspicuous by not doing anything when everyone else was rushing around busily, so Owen and I joined in pulling tablecloths off tables. One of the women working with us kept up a nonstop stream of grumbles. “Seriously, can anyone tell the difference between ivory and cream linens? I bet we’ll get the new ones on, and she’ll scream that we didn’t change them. Maybe we should leave one table the same and see if she notices the difference.” The others laughed at that, and I joined in. We’d once done a similar thing when I worked for Mimi, and she hadn’t noticed. She just liked making people jump through hoops. We’d learned that all we had to do was pretend to make the changes she ordered and let her think she’d forced us to obey an order.

  A sharp voice cut through the general hubbub, saying, “You would not believe the difficulties I’m having here. Absolutely everyone showed up with the wrong things. It’s a disaster—the wrong color linens, wilted old flowers, an obese ice sculpture. How hard is it to get an order right?”

  Speak of the devil, I thought. Mimi was entering the courtyard, talking on a cell phone. I caught Rod’s eye and gestured toward her with my head. He nodded and signaled the others.

  As soon as she got fully into the event space, Mimi took one look at the preparations and snapped, “Why aren’t the tables set up? You can’t have a black-tie, celebrity-filled gala with bare tables! There should be tablecloths and chair covers! Those have to be on before we can do the centerpieces and name cards! What is wrong with you people?”

  I expected the man in charge of the table linens to remind her that the tables were bare because she wanted different tablecloths, but he didn’t stand up to her at all. Instead, he fell on his knees. “I have failed you,” he said, bowing his head in shame, his hands clasped in front of him in supplication.

  Surprised, Mimi took a step away from him, her face screwing up in distaste. As much as she’d always wanted that kind of response, she must not have expected it. “Well, yes,” she said. “But when will you get the right tablecloths and get them on the tables?”

  “Soon! Now!” He gestured to the staff, indicating for them to hurry up stripping the tables, and then he got on the phone and yelled at whomever was bringing the new linens.

  Mimi moved on to her next victim, the florist, who jumped to attention. “We’re almost done, we got new flowers, see, the centerpieces are done, and we’ll get them on the tables as soon as the tablecloths are on,” s
he babbled. “I hope the arrangements are to your satisfaction.” She bobbed an awkward little curtsy. Mimi was so stunned that she didn’t even complain about the new arrangements and make the florists put them back the way they’d been.

  “She must have the brooch on her, but I don’t see it,” I whispered to Owen as we kept pulling cloths off tables. “But why aren’t they scrambling to get at it? Shouldn’t there be a big fight like there was at the restaurant?”

  “She seems to be using it,” he replied. “Unfocused, it creates the chaos we saw at the restaurant, but when someone is actually wielding it and using its power, then the user can control people and keep them in line. People with a thirst for power will still be drawn to it, but most will just be put under its thrall.”

  “This is disturbing on so many different levels,” I muttered, then I glanced over at Granny and saw a frightening gleam in her eye. “Uh oh,” I said, elbowing Owen.

  He turned to look, then winced at what he saw. He bent and took Granny by the shoulders. “I need you to focus, Granny,” he said.

  “That doodad y’all are looking for must be nearby,” she said, her speech a little slurred. “My, but that’s powerful.”

  “Can you resist it?” he asked. “If you can’t, I need you to get away from us.”

  She pulled herself together and gave a disdainful snort. “I’ve never had a weakness for jewelry. But I do want to take it away from that biddy. I don’t like her.”

  I looked around the room to see how everyone else was reacting. Most of the event staff were treating Mimi like she was the empress of the universe. They practically bowed as she passed, trailed by a pair of clipboard-bearing assistants. Rod had flattened his back against the wall, and even from across the room I could see that he was breathing heavily.

  I pointed that out to Owen. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him,” I said.

  Earl seemed less affected. He looked bored. I didn’t see the gnome. His head didn’t come far above the tables, so he’d be easy to lose. “Do you see Thor?” I asked Owen and Granny.