Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc.) (6 page)

I really hoped Granny had made a chocolate cake for dessert.

*

Although getting to send Granny home was the one upside I could see to my situation, I dreaded telling her. Her only other wizard grandchild was my brother Dean, who’d been an idiot about using magic. I knew she’d enjoyed teaching me and being able to pass on everything she knew. She’d be so disappointed to learn it was only temporary. It would be like telling her I was failing out of medical school.

Owen seemed to sense that I’d want to talk to her alone, so after we’d washed the dishes, he said he was going to play squash with Rod and vanished. I was still psyching myself up to raise the subject when Granny turned to me and said, “Now, what’s the problem you wanted to talk to me about?”

“How do you do that?” I blurted.

“It’s not magic. It’s just common sense. Anyone with eyes could tell you were troubled by something, and that boy hightailing it out of here means you need to talk to me. What is it?”

I decided to just blurt it out, like ripping off a bandage. “Well, it turns out I’m not really a wizard. I just got a certain amount of magic, and it’s running out.”

I held my breath, waiting for her reaction, but she just nodded and said, “Hmmm.”

I babbled on to fill what felt like an awkward silence. “Owen ran some tests, and it turns out that’s why it’s been a struggle for me. I haven’t had as much power to work with. I guess I burned through too much of it in the early stages, and I may have overdone the practicing, so now it’s going to run out sooner or later. They want me to stop using magic entirely so I’ll have it if a situation comes up where I really need it.”

“That would be prudent. And I think this is why I got that feeling I needed to come here. I had no fear that you’d use it the wrong way like your idiot brother did. You have good people teaching you. But having magic and
not
using it, saving your resources for a rainy day,
that
I can help you with.”

She got up from the sofa and ambled toward the kitchen, muttering to herself. I followed. “I don’t know what ingredients the boy keeps around the house. Other than the books, you’d never know a wizard lived here. But I’ll bet he can get them at work, or Merlin’ll know where to find them. I was traveling light, so I didn’t bring anything with me, and I wasn’t going to trust your mother with that sort of thing when I had her send me some clothes.”

She reached the kitchen, where she dug around in the cabinets, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “No, I’ll have to give him a list to fetch me from work, or I’ll have to go to the market next time it’s open.”

“Granny, what are you doing?” I finally asked when I could get a word in edgewise.

“Why, making you a potion, of course. I know some things that’ll help restore your strength, give you a little more energy. It won’t stop the decline, but it should slow it.”

“But why bother?” I said wearily, leaning against the edge of the countertop. “Why drag this out? I’m pretty much useless as a wizard. I may as well go back to normal. I’m good at that.”

She whirled on me and shook a finger in my face. “Now, how do you know you didn’t get this gift for some purpose, hm? The good Lord knows what He’s doing and has a plan, and that plan bestowed magical powers on you. For all you know, it’s just in time to do something no one else could do, so you’d best be ready to make the most of it, whenever that comes. You are
not
useless. I don’t know what got into your head to make you think that about yourself. It’s probably your mother’s fault.”

“But I—” I started to protest.

She waved me off. “Oh, I know what you think, that you’re so boring and ordinary that no one would notice you. Well, whose fault is that? And it has nothing to do with how much lipstick you wear, contrary to what that silly daughter of mine tells you. I know that no boring, ordinary girl could have caught that boy’s eye the way you did. He’s no dummy, and
he’s
certainly not boring. I suggest you start seeing yourself the way he sees you and work on being the best you instead of worrying about what you’re not. At the moment, you’re a wizard with enough resources to make a difference when the time comes. Now, go cut yourself another slice of cake while I make out a shopping list.”

Chastened, I sat at the tiny kitchen table and cut a slab of chocolate cake. Granny’s lecture had cheered me up, but I couldn’t help but worry about what might happen that would require my limited magical powers.

Chapter Four

Perdita wasn’t there the next morning, and my call to her went straight to voice mail again, so I sent Rod an e-mail about it. Did she have a change of heart about siding with the wizards or did something happen to her because of her association with us?

It was difficult to focus on work when I was so worried, but I still jumped, startled, when someone knocked on the frame of my office door. I looked up to see a young man with slightly shaggy blondish-brown hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, but your assistant isn’t here, and that’s why I’m here. I’m from Security. We’re investigating the employee disappearances.”

I knew that there were non-gargoyles in the security team, but I hadn’t worked with any of them. This guy looked vaguely familiar, and then I recognized him as the bicycle messenger who’d been part of the attempted sting the other night. “Oh, yes, come in and have a seat,” I said. “I’d offer you coffee, but that’s something my assistant has to do for me.”

He waved his hand, and two cups appeared on my desk. “How’s that?” he asked as he settled himself in my guest chair. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Dan, one of Sam’s undercover experts.”

“Yes, I recognized you from the other night. Thanks for coming to our assistance.”

He grinned. “Your grandmother had it under control. Not that you were ever in real danger. We had your back.” His grin faded, and he said, “Now, about Perdita. How long has it been since you’ve heard from her?”

“She didn’t show up yesterday, so I guess it was at the end of the day before yesterday. There’s been no answer when I’ve called.”

“Do you have any idea of her politics?”

“I’m not sure she has any. She’s not that serious about much of anything. She did keep working here even after the anti-wizard propaganda among elves began.” I hesitated, not sure I should tell him that she was my source, then figured there was no additional harm done at this point. “She shared the flyer about the wizards with me. I know she was nervous about doing that. I didn’t tell anyone, and no one was here to see it.” I hesitated one more time, then figured that the more the security team knew, the better. “I do know she can be gullible. She fell for some of the Spellworks advertising and rumors last summer, and it took some work to convince her that Owen wasn’t evil—even before the word about his parents got out. Just the earlier rumors made her doubt. So it’s not outside the realm of possibility that someone told her something that she ended up believing and she’s staying away willingly.”

He made a note in his notebook. “Do you think that’s likely?”

“I’d hope she’d at least ask me about it. She has before, and we’ve been through a lot since then. My gut says that’s not what’s happened.”

“And I’ve heard good things about your gut,” he said with a grin. “Sam is very complimentary.”

“You don’t think these missing people are in danger, do you?”

“We have no idea. It’s not like we’re finding elf bodies in Dumpsters or washing up in the river. We have a few leads, and the more info we get, the better our leads are.”

“Thanks.”

He flipped his notebook closed and stood. “Thank you for your time, and please let me know if you think of anything or hear anything.”

I promised him I would and returned to my fretting. I’d often longed for a break when in the thick of magical battles, but sitting on the sidelines was worse. I couldn’t do anything useful, and it wasn’t as though I was making use of the time to live a normal life and do all those things I said I’d do if I got the time.

Now that I was on the theoretical training track, Rod had left me to Owen. He was the expert on magical theory and was better at breaking down the theory in a way that made sense even if I couldn’t try it out. Because of the time he’d spent without powers, he also had a better understanding of what it was like to study magic without being able to do it.

Since learning about magic without using it couldn’t give me away, we met in his office instead of in the secret classroom. He said that way he’d have access to all his reference books, but I figured it also meant he could multitask. I hoped if he got other work done while I was studying, my chances of spending time with him away from work would improve.

Waiting for me was a stack of books with colorful sticky notes emerging from the margins. “I’ve sorted through some of the more useful theories that underlie most spells,” he said. “And here are some spells to learn. You’ll have to memorize them without vocalizing them or writing them down. Practice the words and the hand gestures separately and you should be okay.” He grinned. “And no, you won’t turn yourself or anyone else into a frog if you slip. The only harm done is that you accidentally use up a bit of magic. Let me know if you have any questions.”

Learning about magic by sending things flying around the room had been tons of fun. Learning by reading a bunch of old books? Not so much. I forced my way through the theory articles he’d flagged, though it was difficult to pay attention when my mind kept wandering to thoughts of my lost assistant, my vanishing magical powers, and my hopes for weekend plans.

It was with some amusement that I saw the next book in the stack was the
Junior Magic Scouts Handbook
. It looked a lot like my brothers’ Cub Scouts handbook, but instead of learning to tie knots and start campfires, the Junior Magic Scouts learned to do basic spells that tied and untied knots and started or quenched fires. “Magic Scouts?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Magical education is purely extracurricular. Some wizards teach their own kids, but most of us go through this kind of program. I should have thought of this earlier. It’s one of the best ways to learn remedial spells, and their spells are sound on a theoretical basis.”

I noticed that there were notes scribbled in the margins in a childish version of Owen’s textbook-perfect handwriting. Even as a little kid he’d been modifying and correcting the text. “Should I learn it as printed or with your version?” I asked, unable to hold back a smile at the thought of little Owen learning magic. I’d seen the pictures at his foster parents’ home of a tiny boy whose eyes were owlishly large behind thick glasses.

He blushed and started to answer, but his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID readout, frowned, and flipped it open to answer. “Hi, Earl,” he said, then he paused, frowning more deeply. “Earl? Hello? Hello?” He moved the phone away from his ear to look at it before flipping it closed. “Strange.”

“He may have just pocket dialed you,” I suggested.

“But he hasn’t called me today, so I doubt he accidentally redialed.”

“Does Earl call you often?”

“He’s been consulting me some on this case. He’s been running into some unusual magic.”

A “ding” came from his computer, and he turned to check his e-mail. I took that as my cue to return to my studies. “That’s weird,” he murmured.

“What is?”

“Earl sent me an e-mail from his phone.”

“Does it explain the call?”

“I don’t know. There’s no text to it, just a photo.”

“Of what?” I said, putting down the book and going around his desk so I could look over his shoulder. The photo showed a building—the kind of late-Victorian brick industrial-type buildings that were all over the city. “Why did Earl send you a photo of a building?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but let’s find out.” He picked up his phone and dialed, listened for a while then shook his head. “No answer.”

“That’s not good,” I concluded. “Do you think he disappeared like those others? He must have found something.”

“Or he could be in a dead zone.” He dialed again and left Earl a message to call him. I got the feeling he didn’t believe the dead zone theory because he then called Sam to update him.

Both of us went back to our respective tasks, but I doubted either of us was really getting anything done. Our heads popped up in unison when Owen’s desk phone rang. He answered it and said, “Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a moment.” He hung up, leaned over his computer keyboard for a moment and clicked a few keys, then said as he rose from his chair, “The photo must be something because the boss wants to talk about it.”

I jumped up to tag along with him because while I hadn’t exactly been invited, I hadn’t specifically been excluded, as far as I knew. At least, Owen made no move to tell me not to come with him.

When we reached Merlin’s office, he was studying his computer monitor. “Does this photograph mean anything to you?” he asked Owen, as though he’d been there all along instead of just having arrived.

“I don’t recognize it,” Owen said.

“And he attempted to call you at approximately the same time he sent this?”

“From what I can tell, yes.”

Merlin stroked his beard. “Interesting. I suppose this is a clue, but I can’t imagine what it’s meant to tell us.”

Sam flew in then and alit on the back of a chair. “Still no word from Earl.”

“We need to look into this,” I said. “Something must have happened if he sent us a clue.”

Sam shook his head. “There’s no ‘us’ about it, doll. You’re not a part of this one. Neither of you is.”

I would have argued, but Merlin’s stern glare shut me up immediately. “Sam is correct,” he said. “You two have done more than enough this year, and this particular business doesn’t concern you.”

“But Perdita’s my assistant, and Earl wouldn’t have been working with MSI if it weren’t for us. It’s partly our fault if they’re in danger.”

“Earl was an undercover agent in the court of the Elf Lord, so he was hardly out of danger,” Merlin said dryly. “In fact, his association with us may have kept him safer until today.”