No Quest for the Wicked

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No Quest for the Wicked Page 22

by Shanna Swendson


  “He might have made a good hostage,” I whispered as the man backed away, but Owen shook his head.

  “No, it’s all about the cause. They’d probably shoot their own guys if they had to.”

  “Could you shoot?”

  He didn’t answer, and his gun didn’t waver as we slowly backed away from the puritans. “Sam, take their weapons,” he ordered. The gargoyles stopped dive-bombing and instead snatched the guns out of the hands of our enemies.

  “Do you know what you’re doing, son?” the mad professor asked, friendly again. Sam confiscated his weapon and brought it to me. I hefted its unfamiliar weight in my hands. I’d fired air rifles and even a small shotgun, but I wasn’t sure about aiming a handgun at a human being, no matter how threatening or deranged he was. I braced the gun in both hands, glaring down the barrel at our enemies.

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” Owen said. “I’m foiling your evil scheme.”

  The man laughed that patronizing laugh again. “Evil? You accuse me of evil? That’s rich.”

  “I never knew my parents, so you can’t blame me for their actions, and I’m not trying to stir up strife to further my cause.”

  “But blood does run true, doesn’t it? Don’t tell me you’ve never been tempted to use power, even if your power has been corrupted. All of this is your fault, you know.”

  Owen’s cool faltered and his voice cracked as he blurted, “My fault?”

  “Merlin was our great hope, the one who could have restored us to the true ways. When he returned, we knew he would purify the magical world. But you were the one who brought him back. You made him a modern wizard. You influenced him to put the past behind him.”

  “You obviously don’t know Merlin,” Owen said with a harsh laugh. “He’s a scholar, so he set out to learn what he’d missed, and he chose to adapt to the modern world. I may have taught him to use the Internet, but he was the one who decided to put the past behind him—where it belongs.”

  If that revelation disconcerted the puritan, he didn’t show it. Then again, that type seldom let the truth get in the way of their beliefs. Instead, he gave Owen a cold smile and said, “You may be right about one thing.”

  “Just one?”

  “You may not be evil. You’re certainly too weak to be effective even if you are evil. Otherwise, you’d have fired that gun by now. But you’re reluctant to take a life, aren’t you?”

  I aimed high and to the right of him, where I was sure I wouldn’t hit anything, braced myself for the recoil, and pulled the trigger, just for the pleasure of watching him scramble backward. “I’ll shoot,” I said. “Next one is aimed better.”

  “You were high and to the right,” Granny criticized.

  “It was a warning shot,” I argued, exasperated. “I wasn’t trying to hit anything.”

  I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and heard a loud bang, but before I could react, the world went still. I looked down to see Rod kneeling, his hand on the ground. Then I looked up to see a bullet hovering in mid-air a few feet away from me. I wouldn’t have had time to duck if Rod hadn’t intervened.

  “I’m not as good at this as Owen is, so get out of here, now,” Rod said through clenched teeth. “Granny and I will keep them here.”

  Owen’s shirttail had come untucked long ago, and he stuck his pistol in the back of his waistband, letting his shirt cover it. I put mine in my purse. There were laws about carrying concealed firearms in this city, and both of us were disheveled enough to look suspicious, but I didn’t want to face whatever might be out there without a weapon.

  I took Owen’s arm, and the two of us ran for the park exit. He wasn’t limping as badly now, but he had a hop-skip gait that favored the wounded leg. As we came out onto Fifth Avenue, I said, “Maybe we could get a cab. We’d be mostly alone and more or less protected for a while, at least until the cabbie is driven mad with a lust for power, and I think we’re safest if we stay on the move.”

  “Good plan,” he said, stepping forward to hail a cab. Several in-service cabs passed us by. A good look at him in the bright city lights showed why. Yeah, he was still ridiculously good-looking, but he also looked like a wild man, with his hair disheveled, his clothes torn and dirty, and blood everywhere. I probably looked just as bad.

  “We’ll never get a cab. Let’s walk,” I suggested. “We need to get away from here before they catch up, and Sylvester could be waking up any minute now.”

  He put his arm around my shoulders again, leaning on me while acting protective. “I should call the office and see if that box is ready.” He got out his phone, hit the speed dial button, then waited what seemed like forever for a response. At last he said, “We’re hanging on, but this is getting dicey. How much longer?” He listened, then said, “Okay, but please hurry.” He put the phone back in his pocket and said, “He’s putting the finishing touches on it now.”

  “Finishing touches means what, exactly? Like, a few minutes, or half an hour?”

  “Magic isn’t an exact science. But soon, I’m sure.”

  “And then it has to be delivered to us. I vote we start heading in that direction.”

  “We’re already heading in that direction.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m really tired.”

  He gave me a squeeze. “I know. But you’re doing great. I’m not sure I could have pulled the trigger the way you did.”

  “I didn’t hit anything.”

  “But I couldn’t do that much.”

  He stopped abruptly, his arm tightening around my shoulders to force me to stop, as well. I started to ask him what was wrong, but then I heard the rustling sound in the plants on the other side of the park wall. We were close to a park entry, and the rustling was heading toward the wall’s opening. Moving as one, Owen and I slowly backed away. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I figured that since all the magical and nonmagical wild things in the park had been drawn to the gemstone in my pocket, I wasn’t being paranoid or egotistical to think that rustling was coming after me.

  The rustling grew louder as it drew closer. It sounded like a herd of wild rhinoceroses was heading my way. I was on the verge of turning and running when a figure shambled out of the park. At first, I wasn’t sure it was even human. It was covered in leaves and other debris and looked like it had risen from the floor of an ancient forest. Then I saw something shimmery beneath the leaves and wondered if it was some magical creature of the park. And then I realized it was a woman in an evening gown.

  It was Mimi. She looked like she’d cut straight through the park to reach me, not bothering with footpaths and climbing up, through, and down any trees that got in her way instead of going around them. “There you are,” she said when she saw me, sounding remarkably friendly. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Now, what have you done with my brooch?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mimi didn’t have the level of extreme crazy I would have expected of her in this situation. She seemed almost reasonable, more reasonable than her usual self, actually. I knew from many a staff meeting that the reason wouldn’t last long. Things would get ugly soon.

  Our best hope was to maintain the calm as long as possible. “Mimi, you’re wearing your brooch,” I said. “See, there it is on your dress, just under that leaf.”

  She glanced down and brushed the leaf away, then frowned and looked up at me as she gestured at the brooch she wore. “This isn’t my brooch.”

  “It looks just like the one you had back at the museum. I saw you take it out of your jacket pocket and put it on.”

  “Someone switched it—and it could only have been you.” She jabbed an accusing finger at me.

  I forced myself not to react defensively, remembering her talent for sensing fear or weakness. “What do you think is different about it?”

  She hesitated, then said with a shrug, “It’s just different. The real one made me feel strong. People obeyed me. This is nothing more than a piece of jewelry. It doesn’
t do anything for me.”

  “Maybe you’re tired. You can’t feel powerful all day.” I kept my voice kind, calm, and soothing, the way I had after the gargoyle attack in the museum. “You’ve been through a lot. That would sap anyone’s strength. Did everyone stop doing what you told them to do?”

  She frowned. “No, not really. But they had to do what I said because I was in charge.” She actually seemed to be listening to me. She certainly didn’t have the crazy gleam in her eye that everyone else got around the brooch. “You could be right,” she added with a sigh.

  “I am right. You should go back to the museum before you miss the rest of your party. You’re having a big gala tonight, aren’t you? You put in so much work. You deserve to take credit for it. Drink some champagne, dance a little, enjoy yourself.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I should do that.” Then she frowned at me. “What on earth happened to you? You look awful. Come on, you should come back to the museum with me. You both look like you could use a drink.”

  Now I was suspicious. Mimi was never this nice. She’d been bearable when she was in shock after the gargoyle attack, but she still hadn’t really been nice to me. When I worked for her, I could have come to work missing a hand and she’d have criticized my typing speed. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t seem to have noticed what a mess she was. This was a woman who practically had to be tranquilized when she snagged her tights. Something was definitely wrong.

  “No, thanks,” I said, taking a big step backward and pulling Owen with me. “We’re on our way home so we can relax. We’re not really up to a party right now.” And that was the absolute truth. I wanted nothing more than to take a long, hot bath, put on my pajamas, get in bed, pull the covers over my head, and stay there for about a week.

  “You’re probably right,” Mimi said.

  I turned to walk away, talking to her over my shoulder. “Well, it was great running into you again. Good luck with your party!”

  I didn’t think it would be so easy to escape from her, and I was right. Even though she talked about going back to the museum, she came after us—in the opposite direction from the museum. I was also right that it was weird for her to be so nice to me. The Eye must have been telling her what to say so it could get back into the hands of someone who would use it. Now she had that scary gleam in her eyes, and I knew that reasoning with her wouldn’t work. She lunged at me, clawing at my clothes. “Where is it? Give it to me! I know you have it!” she shouted.

  I tried to fight her off, resorting to the usual chick fight moves of hair pulling, kicking, and scratching. Owen wrapped his arm around her neck to try to pull her off me, and then she screamed, “Help! Police! I’m being attacked!”

  “You’re attacking me!” I protested.

  “Because you stole my brooch!”

  “You’re wearing your brooch!”

  “This isn’t the real one!”

  “Take it to a jeweler, he’ll tell you it’s real.” At least, I suspected he would. I didn’t think the gnomes would have tried to make the switch on the elves unless they had something that would stand up to appraisal. Not that it mattered, since she wasn’t listening to reason. She could feel the difference, and that sense of power had become a need, a hunger.

  With either uncanny knowledge or extreme luck, she lashed out with her high heel and caught Owen’s injured leg. He blurted something that I suspected was a naughty word in some ancient, esoteric language. In his moment of shock, she broke free from him, knocked him down, and lunged at me again. There was a horrible tearing sound, and then she gave a cry of triumph. She had the brooch.

  She held it above her head, cackling like a mad scientist in an old B movie. “Hey!” I cried out as I jumped to grab the brooch from Mimi, ignoring the torn lining hanging out of my skirt pocket.

  “You did take it!” she shouted, holding the brooch out of my reach. “I knew it! I’m not insane! I was missing my brooch!” She pinned it on her dress, next to the fake brooch, then stepped to the curb to hail a cab.

  “Don’t let her go!” Owen warned. He was still struggling to get to his feet, but he waved my help away.

  I rushed to stand beside Mimi, hoping that my bedraggled appearance might be enough to scare away cabs, even if she did now have the power of the Eye and could probably summon them. “Go away!” she said to me, a ring of command in her voice.

  “No!” I said cheerfully. “I don’t think so.”

  She turned to look me in the eye. “I don’t need you now that I have my brooch back, so go away,” she said, emphasizing each word.

  “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

  Owen limped over to join me. “Let’s herd her away from the street,” he whispered. I looked at him and could tell from his slight smile that he had a plan.

  “Hey, Mimi,” I said, taking a step toward her. “Did I ever tell you what it was like to work for you?”

  When I was nearly toe-to-toe with her, she took a reluctant step backward. “Get away from me,” she said, reaching up to rub the brooch.

  Owen moved around me to stand in front of the curb, and then stepped up onto the sidewalk, forcing her back another step. “I hear you weren’t a very nice boss,” he said.

  She backed away, frantically rubbing the brooch, like she expected a genie to come out of it and help her. “I said, get away from me.”

  “I told you there was nothing in that brooch to give you power,” I said, enjoying this way too much. “You only imagined it. You’re still as weak as ever.”

  “No, no!” she sputtered, missing her footing as she backed away and nearly falling. Her voice rose shrilly as she cried, “Get away from me! That’s an order!” When we didn’t relent, she turned and ran toward the park entrance we’d so recently left.

  “Keep her in sight,” Owen said, speeding his pace in spite of his limp. I took his arm to support him, and the two of us went after her, running like contestants in a three-legged race.

  “I’m assuming you’ve got a plan,” I said as we ran, “because in case you didn’t notice, we lost the brooch. We were supposed to get and keep the brooch, not lose it. We’re back to square three!”

  “Square three?”

  “Well, we know who has it and we know where it is, so we’re not on squares one or two. But the important part is that we don’t have it anymore!”

  He must have gotten a better second wind than I did, because he managed to outline his plan while running and without panting. “The Knot doesn’t offer either of us any protection. Anyone could have eventually stolen it from us. But it does protect her. We’re the only ones who can take it from her. So, let her carry it for a while, just as long as we keep her away from the magical puritans and any power brokers who’d cause problems in its presence. Then when we get the box, we take the brooch back from her and immediately put it away for safekeeping.”

  “Wow, you are brilliant, but if we want to keep her away from the puritans, we’re driving her in the wrong direction.”

  He pulled his arm from around my shoulders. “Then get in front of her. Drive her into the city. I suspect it would go to her head if the park people worshipped her.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  I sprinted in front of Mimi, blocking her approach to the park. We were a little too close for my comfort, considering I could still hear the scuffle inside the park. Pretty soon, they were sure to sense the proximity of the Eye and come looking for it. It might take them a while to figure out it had a new owner. They’d go after me before they discovered Mimi, and she might get away while I was defending myself.

  I was lucky that Mimi had no desire to go into the park, after all. She headed toward the museum. All I had to do was hurry her along to get her past the danger zone. That wasn’t too difficult. Convinced that I was chasing her to get the brooch back, Mimi jogged in a mincing trot, hampered by her heels and her long, slim skirt. “Stop following me!” she snapped at me. “You can’t have the brooch back.”


  “I’m not following you. I just happen to be heading uptown,” I said, trying not to grin from the sheer joy of irritating Mimi.

  While I wrangled Mimi, I heard Owen behind me on his phone, saying, “Sam, we could use some air support out here.” Soon, there was a faint stirring of air above me.

  It was just in time, because a spectacularly well-dressed crowd was coming down the sidewalk from the museum. The power-hungry gala patrons must have been drawn by the brooch, and we were about to be menaced by a mob in formal wear. It looked like what would happen if a riot broke out at the Oscars.

  “Oh, look, my party came to find me!” Mimi said. “They love me so much.”

  We couldn’t let that bunch get near the brooch or we’d have another melee. “Sam!” I shouted.

  “I’ve got ’em, doll,” the gargoyle said. Then he called out, “Rocky! Rollo! You deal with the crowd.” To me he added, “Let’s get her away from here.”

  There was a traffic light with a crosswalk nearby, and I dragged Mimi toward it. When the “walk” light came on, Sam dropped out of the sky and said, “Hey, sweetheart!”

  Mimi gave a piercing, panicked shriek and ran out into the street. Owen and I followed her, Sam flying above. When we reached the opposite sidewalk, I turned back to see that the park gang had come out, and the museum party mob had nearly reached the intersection. We ducked around the nearest corner as the light changed and cars started moving past us again.

  “Do you think they saw us?” I asked Owen.

  “My guys set up a veil,” Sam said. “The gang from the museum may have caught a glimpse, but they didn’t see where you went, and that bunch of fanatics shouldn’t have seen anything.”

  “They’ll sense the stone, though,” Owen said. “They’ll find us eventually.”

  “But if they can’t see us, it might take them longer to find us,” I said, desperately hoping I was right. It was the only hope I had to hold on to.

 

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