“But, getting through wards?” Jake asked, his forehead wrinkling. “I thought …”
I groaned inwardly. It had completely slipped my mind. After the number of times we’d explained Owen’s returning magical powers in the other world, I should have remembered that it wasn’t widely known in this world, either.
Merlin came to my rescue. “It’s a long story, and I’m sure Owen will explain it to you when he returns.”
Jake didn’t look too upset by the news. He merely nodded and said, “That would explain the books he was having me find on magical infusion. But I bet that’s not why you want me.”
“Actually, we want your musical knowledge,” I said. “We need the ultimate playlist.”
He looked even more taken aback by that than he had been about the idea that Owen had magic again. “A playlist? Why?” he asked.
I gave him a quick recap about the partying elven army. “I think their music contains a spell. If we could switch it, that might break the spell. If they really like the new tunes, then maybe they won’t want to go into battle. We might not convince them to go home, I suppose, but we can worry about that later.”
“So you want music fun enough to stop a war? I think I can handle that.”
“They were really grooving on disco, and remember, these are elves, so melody and harmony are important. They seemed to love the Bee Gees. Come to think of it, with those unearthly voices and tight harmonies, it would explain a lot …”
Jake grinned. “I’m surprised you hadn’t figured that out already.” He pulled an iPod out of his lab coat pocket and started scrolling through the screen. “Fortunately, my musical tastes are really broad. I’ve got a lot of stuff here that should work. Just give me a few minutes. How long a playlist do you need?” His thumbs worked rapidly across the device as he spoke.
“I don’t know. Say about half an hour, maybe?”
He didn’t look up from the screen as he said. “Okay.”
While he worked, I turned back to the others. “I think I can get back into the building and swap out the iPod in the sound system’s dock. All the partiers are blocking the portal, which should help keep anyone else from being whammied and sent to the other world.” I waited for someone to tell me it was too dangerous, but Owen wasn’t there. As annoying as his overprotective instincts could be, I felt a little lost coming up with a potentially dangerous plan without having to overcome any objections. Some of my best ideas came from addressing his concerns, so I hoped I wasn’t missing anything.
“I don’t like you going in there alone,” Granny said. “I’m coming with you.” Her objection wasn’t quite the same as Owen’s, but it did force me to think.
“That would be a bad idea,” I said. “Until I can switch out the music, the spell might affect you. And after having been under the elf whammy, I can tell you it’s not something you want. They can make you forget who you are. I have to go in alone on this one.”
“I’ll need your assistance,” Merlin told Granny. “You’re the one who has the best elf underground contacts.”
“You’re with the elf underground?” I asked her. Resistance seemed to run in the family.
“I met some nice people that night in the park when the Eye of the Moon was drawing them, and Earl introduced me to some others. We meet occasionally. And I didn’t tell you because secret organizations are supposed to be secret.”
“I’m going with you, though,” Rod said, his jaw set stubbornly. “I won’t go into the building until you give me an all-clear, but I’ll be on the roof in case you need me.”
“My guys and I will keep anyone from getting out into our world,” Sam said. “That just leaves neutralizing the real bad guys.”
“Leave that to me,” Merlin said.
“Do you just want dance music, or do you want some ballads?” Jake asked.
“A few ballads would be okay,” I said. “They did a nice sing-along with one slow Bee Gees song.”
“And do you want to replicate the songs they were already hearing or do all new stuff?”
“How about a mix? Start with the stuff they were already hearing so the switch won’t be so obvious. Then mix in new stuff.” I listed the songs I remembered hearing.
“Gotcha. Just a few more minutes. I’ll have to save this list for the next party I have. It’s nothing short of awesome, if I do say so myself.”
Sam flew over to land on the arm of the chair where I was sitting. “You know, doll, you’re not gonna like it, but there’s one good way to get you on that rooftop,” he said softly.
“Yeah, I’d already figured that out. If you can keep the antique zombie gargoyles away, I’ll be okay.” The last time I’d been on a magic carpet, an evil gargoyle attack had nearly killed us. It wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat.
“I won’t let ’em near you, I promise.”
Jake finished his playlist, then handed me his iPod. “Take good care of her,” he said, his fingers momentarily clutching on the device before he gave in and released it to me. “I want to make sure I can keep that playlist for later.” He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a cable with plugs on either end. “Oh, and you might need this. If it’s a real docking station, you can just dock it, but otherwise you can connect through an auxiliary input jack with this.”
Wary of the technical stuff, I thought about bringing him with me, but the same argument I’d given Granny applied.
“While we’re handing out technology,” Sam said as he flew to Merlin’s desk. He picked up something and flew back to drop it in my lap. It was a cell phone. “The numbers you’ll need are already in there.”
“I guess I couldn’t hold out forever,” I said, turning the phone over in my hands. When I needed a phone, I usually used Owen’s, since we were always together. Needing my own phone made me miss him.
“Call us when you think the spell is breaking,” Sam instructed. He looked back over his shoulder and said, “And it looks like your ride is here.”
I hated stepping out of Merlin’s office window onto the magic carpet, but time was of the essence. Sam hovered alongside me as I made the frightening transition, with a little help from Rod. The carpet was driven by a small pixie-like creature. These guys knew what they were doing, and my last driver had saved us in the middle of an attack, so I felt a little better. To distract myself during the trip, I focused on the mission: infiltrating the Elf Lord’s lair and confronting his whole imported army, armed only with an iPod. That was even more frightening than whizzing up Manhattan several stories above the ground.
“So, I’ve been gone a week, huh?” I said to Rod as we flew.
“Yeah. We’ve been worried.”
“What about my roommates?”
“I told Marcia you had to go on a last-minute business trip. I thought it would probably be best if they didn’t have reason to worry.”
“Thanks! I wasn’t looking forward to explaining where I’ve been. I’m still not sure I understand it.”
In no time at all, we were back at the warehouse, and the carpet was settling gently onto the rooftop. The door was still propped open the way I’d left it. Rod gave my hand a quick squeeze and said, “Good luck. Call if you need me—and then call when you think it’s safe.”
“Will do.” I hurried down the staircase to the balcony level, then cautiously slipped out onto the balcony. The party was still in full swing on the floor below, but there was something different about the atmosphere. It was less free-and-easy, more intense. Instead of free-form dancing for the pure joy of moving to the music, the elves were moving in unison, as though they’d been choreographed and directed. They weren’t smiling, either. This looked like serious work, not fun. The music hadn’t changed, so I suspected it was whatever lay behind the music. And if they were making the elves dance in lockstep, I was afraid they were stirring up their army for an attack.
Chapter Twenty
I had to find the source of the music before the army-creating spe
ll could be completed. I looked around for anyone who looked like a DJ, but there was no one doing anything so obvious as spinning records while wearing headphones. I walked as casually as I could around the balcony, searching for signs of a stereo system, computer, or anything else that might be providing the music.
When I reached the far side, I noticed that behind the portal on the lower level there was a table with electronic equipment on it. Thinking that would be my best bet, I continued around the balcony to the staircase I’d used earlier and made my way to the dance floor.
I had to dance my way across the floor again, mimicking the elves’ moves—step, kick, spin, clap hands. They were all so graceful, even while being controlled, that I felt horribly klutzy in comparison. It reminded me of the one high school dance I’d dared to go to, early in my freshman year. It had been such an awkward experience that I’d avoided dances ever since. This was a hundred times worse. At that high school dance, my friends’ lives hadn’t been at stake.
When I neared the portal, I worked my way to the edge of the room so I could get around behind it. Although this controlled dancing was ominous to watch, it was easier for me to blend with. I was slightly less awkward when I didn’t have to make up my own dance moves. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice that I was always about a beat behind.
They must not have expected any threat, since there was no guard at the sound system. I reached the table and found to my great relief that the stereo had a dock with an iPod almost identical to Jake’s, just in a different color. I wouldn’t need help making this work. I took Jake’s iPod out of my pocket and waited for the current song to end. Then, moving quickly, I removed one player from the dock, stuck the other one in, and hit “play.” The music continued with only a slightly longer-than-usual pause between songs, and no one seemed to notice the break.
Sticking the other iPod in my pocket, I hurried away from the sound system and blended back into the crowd. Jake had really outdone himself in finding songs you couldn’t help but want to dance to. Even I had no choice but to move my feet. I was so relieved to have accomplished my goal that I let myself give in to it with some exuberance. Besides, I figured getting busy on the dance floor was good for my cover.
The intense air in the room eased significantly by the end of Jake’s first song. The dancers went back to doing their own thing. By the second, some of the dancers had odd looks crossing their faces. They looked a lot like our people had when we’d broken the spell on them. The third song was a slower ballad, and everyone stopped dancing just to listen to it.
During the song, a murmur ran through the room, gradually rising in volume. The murmur grew more agitated, and then I heard someone near me say, “Where are we?”
Another asked, “What did they do to us?” There were other similar questions being asked all around me, and then I saw an elf darting for the stairs.
When he reached the balcony, he leaned over the railing and shouted, “All of you, listen to me!”
“Who are you?” someone called out.
“I am your commander, and you will do as I say.”
The army just stared at him, not snapping to attention or doing anything that looked like a response to an order. I believed the spell was well and truly broken. I edged away from the increasingly angry elves and took out my new cell phone to call Rod. “It worked!” I said.
“Great. I’ll let Sam know, and I’ll join you.”
The elf on the balcony cried out, “You’re here to fight for your people! They’ve been mistreated and exploited in this world, and you’re here to win their freedom!”
In a miracle of bad timing, Aretha Franklin’s “Think” started playing, with its “Freedom!” chorus coming through loud and clear. The mood shifted, and the elven army turned to the would-be commander. Most of them looked like they were interested in what he had to say.
“And now I think we may need a Plan B,” I said into the phone to Rod. “Propaganda seems to be working.”
“What’s the situation?” Rod asked.
“One elf is convincing the soldiers that they need to fight for the freedom of elves in this place. He said he’s their commander.”
“This situation should be right up your alley.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re director of marketing. What’s propaganda if it isn’t marketing?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
After ending the call, I crept back to the stereo and hit the “forward” button to move to the next song before Aretha could whip the army into a freedom-fighting frenzy. In a miracle that made me want to kiss Jake, the next song was the Bee Gees’ “Jive Talking,” and the combination of the harmonies, the danceable beat, and the lyrics questioning someone’s veracity shifted the room’s mood once again. The elves went back to dancing even as the commander shouted at them.
I slipped back into the middle of the crowd and said loudly enough to be heard by the people around me, “If it’s about freedom, then why did they take us against our will? They could have talked to us about freeing our brethren.” Then I ducked out of the way before anyone could notice who’d been talking. A ripple of conversation spread.
I moved to another part of the room and said, “It makes you wonder what’s really going on here. Are these people trying to free this world’s elves, or keep them from being free?” Again, I ducked out of the way and let the elves discuss that. Judging from the rise in conversation volume, I thought the seeds I’d planted must be growing.
I jumped when someone touched me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Rod. “How’s it going?” he asked.
“I seem to have stirred up a little discord.”
“That sounds like fun. I think I’ll join you.” The two of us moved through the dance floor, questioning what the commander had said or complaining about what had happened, and then moving on. Soon, the murmur of conversation was almost drowning out the music.
The commander tried to rally his troops again, but then “YMCA” came on and he lost their attention entirely. There were a few elves not joining in the dance, and I wondered if they were Sylvester’s henchmen rather than imported soldiers. Even if I succeeded in keeping the newcomers from joining the fight, our people still might have to face this world’s loyalists.
I called Sam. “We may have the situation more or less under control at the moment. I don’t think the army’s going to rally behind Sylvester’s cause, but he does have some people here. Do we have any elves who can come deal with the new guys and provide another perspective?”
“Granny rounded up a few. Now, we’re about to make a move, so get yourself someplace safe and out of the way.”
I felt a wave of magic that made me reel even if it didn’t affect me, and the dancing stopped. “Uh oh, they’re trying again,” I whispered into the phone as I hurried toward Rod, worried about how he might be affected.
“Now is the time for our glorious crusade!” the commander shouted, his voice ringing with a magical undertone.
Murmurs of “glorious crusade” echoed through the dance floor as the elves stared enraptured up at the balcony. Fortunately, Rod didn’t seem to be affected by the elven spell, but he looked as concerned as I felt. I wasn’t sure there was any disco music strong enough to counteract this magic. But then “Stayin’ Alive” came on, and most of the elves shook themselves out of the spell to dance. One benefit of most of the dancers being from another world was that none of them tried to impersonate John Travolta.
Not everyone was liberated by the music, though, and the leaders were able to line a number of soldiers up in ranks, ready to head out into our world. I didn’t know what our people had set up out there, but I hoped they were ready for it. Then I remembered that I could warn Sam, so I called him back and said, “They’re coming out. Not all of them, but enough.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, doll.”
The soldiers marched out, and I held my breath,
waiting to see what would happen. It wasn’t long before they came flooding back into the main room, followed by MSI’s forces. There were even a few people in Council black, so Merlin must have really brought in the big guns. Waiting for the warehouse to open had allowed the MSI group to get in past the guards, who were swept up in all the confusion.
I rushed over to the stereo and turned up the volume. I didn’t recognize the next song that came on. It sounded like the kind of dance electronica that got played at nightclubs. I wouldn’t have thought the elves would be all that into it, with its lack of discernable melody, but the novelty seemed to strike them, and they were completely distracted from the fight going on between the MSI group and Sylvester’s people.
One struggle was between an MSI elf and one of the elf loyalists. Our guy must have been briefed by Sam, for he shouted, “These elves are trying to seize power over the elves of this world! They’re oppressing us, and they want to use you to help them!” Soon, some of the foreign elves had rallied to his side.
The commanders were too busy to use magic on the captives, so it was idea versus idea. Some fell in with Sylvester’s side, others joined the MSI side, and others just kept dancing. It was hard to tell how the fight was going, but I figured it was okay as long as no armies were leaving the building to go take over the world. I wasn’t even sure where they’d have gone.
I felt triumphant until I saw someone heading for the sound system. They must have realized that the soundtrack was no longer enchanted. I barely reached the sound system first and blocked it with my body. The elf tried using magic on me, to no avail. That confused him enough to buy me a little time. I hit the redial button on my new phone and shouted, “Sam! I need backup at the sound system.”
“You changed the music!” the elf accused.
“You enchanted it!” I countered. “There’s gotta be a special place in hell reserved for anyone who’d use disco for mind control to force people into an army.”
Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc.) Page 25