No Quest for the Wicked Page 14

  Owen shook his head. Instead of a response from Granny, there was a “thwap” sound and then a thud. A glance at the floor showed Thor lying on his back, his axe in his hands. Granny stood over him, holding her cane out like a weapon. “He was trying to sneak up on her,” she said.

  Owen leaned over him. “Are you carrying out the mission to retrieve the brooch, or are you under its influence?” he asked.

  “I think a little of both,” Thor admitted groggily, rubbing his head. “It is our property. But, boy, is it ever enticing. I could really use a piece of that.”

  “The ownership is currently disputed,” Owen said. “Sylvester owes you for the work, but the brooch doesn’t actually belong to your people.”

  “Still, I’m on assignment. Can’t blame me for trying.”

  “As long as you don’t blame me for making sure you don’t try again.” Owen used one of the discarded napkins to tie Thor’s hands behind his back and then rolled him under the nearest table. “He’ll probably be able to work his way out eventually, but that should keep him out of our hair for a little while.” Then he frowned and said, “Hey, what’s this?”

  He bent to pick up a brooch of ornate Celtic knotwork in gold, with a spherical sapphire set in the middle of it.

  “The Eye! It must have fallen out of his pocket,” I guessed excitedly. “But how’d he get it? He must have been on his way back from grabbing it, and we didn’t notice.”

  Owen shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He raised it to the light and turned it from side to side, then wrapped his hand around it. “I don’t think it’s real,” he said. “They must have made a duplicate and he was going to try to pull off a swap. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d planned all along to give Sylvester the fake.” He held it in front of Granny. “Does this do anything to you?” he asked.

  “Not a bit,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t have the slightest desire for it.”

  “It’s definitely a fake,” Owen concluded.

  “You’re good at sleight of hand,” I said as an idea took shape in my head. “How are you at pickpocketing?”

  “I’ve never tried.”

  “Well, maybe we can use this—see if we can get a chance to swap this out. It might buy us time if Mimi doesn’t realize the real one is gone.”

  “But we’d have to find the real one first,” he said.

  We both turned to watch Mimi as she continued yelling at everyone who displeased her. Although she’d seemed surprised by the subservient responses at first, she now looked like she was enjoying the power and had gone into full-on czarina mode. Then I noticed that she kept putting her right hand in the pocket of her suit jacket. Every time she did so, a look came over her face, as though touching whatever was in there gave her strength. I pointed it out to Owen. “Does it look to you like she’s got a ‘my precioussss’ thing going on with something in that pocket?” I asked him.

  He watched her for a while longer, then said, “Yeah, I think that’s where it is. Let’s see if we can move in on her. You and Granny create a diversion, and I’ll make the switch.”

  I looked up to signal our colleagues, but I couldn’t find Earl. He was too tall to disappear easily. Then I saw him crouching and darting from sculpture to sculpture, on his way to the exit that led into the Arms and Armor section. A glance at the other entrance explained why: Sylvester, Lyle, and a few other elf flunkies had entered.

  “Oh, fun, the gang’s all here,” I said.

  “We need to get it before they do,” Owen said.

  Rod gave Owen a “What should I do?” signal, and Owen waved for him to stay back. Owen and I headed closer to Mimi. As we moved, I thought of ways to distract her. I wondered if I could signal Rod to drop my illusion disguise. Seeing me pop up here would certainly distract Mimi, but I preferred not to resort to that.

  I picked up one of the flower arrangements that looked like it was meant to be a centerpiece and carried it toward Mimi. My plan was to “accidentally” drop it right in front of her so she could be distracted by the need to berate me. I figured I might even be able to shock her by not falling on my knees or begging her for mercy. If she was enjoying her newfound power over people, she might find open defiance disconcerting.

  Oh, yeah, this was the best mission ever.

  I was already anticipating sweet revenge when something stopped me in my tracks.

  I smelled something familiar—a scent like a spice factory explosion in a pine forest. That was the cologne I’d used as a weapon in Macy’s. It came from the assistant to Mimi’s right—the same side as the pocket she kept touching. The smell was so strong that either the guy had marinated in it or he’d recently been hit in the face with a heavy blast of it. I suspected it was the latter.

  The puritans had infiltrated Mimi’s inner circle. We didn’t stand a chance of getting close enough to her to make the swap.

  Chapter Eleven

  I tried to warn Owen to abort the mission, but he was so focused on finding an opportunity to pickpocket Mimi that I couldn’t get his attention without also drawing the attention of both Mimi and her puritan protector. All I could do was not create the diversion Owen was waiting for. I returned the centerpiece to the table and hoped Owen figured out that there had been a change of plans.

  I watched helplessly as he edged closer and closer to Mimi. Once he was in position, he glanced around, looking for the expected diversion. When he finally saw me and gave me a “Well?” look, I shook my head. He frowned, shrugged, and then wandered casually back to me.

  “What happened?” he asked when he was close enough that we could speak without being overheard.

  “The assistant standing by Mimi’s critical pocket is a puritan.”

  “How can you tell? Do you recognize him?”

  “I smelled him.”

  “Smelled him?”

  “This guy reeks of that cologne I sprayed all over the guy chasing us in Macy’s. I mean, way more than ‘I don’t have time for a shower, so I’ll just put on some extra cologne’ levels. You know they’d have someone close to the brooch to be ready for making their grand saving-the-world show, so it all adds up. I doubt you’d have stood a chance.”

  He glanced at Mimi and her minions, his brow knitted as he chewed his lower lip. Then he turned back to me and sighed softly. “You’re probably right. Good catch. But now what do we do?”

  “I’m not sure we should do anything at the moment,” I said, nodding toward Sylvester and the elves, who were heading for Mimi.

  He turned to follow my gaze, then he winced. “We should probably do something,” he said. “We can’t let them get to it first.”

  I caught him by the elbow as he started to move. “No, wait. Those puritan guys aren’t going to let the elves take it, either. Maybe we could let them fight it out.”

  He gave a grin that was so close to evil that if the people who were convinced he would follow in his birth parents’ footsteps had seen it, they’d probably have insisted on having him arrested immediately. “Nice thinking. Be ready to act once they’re distracted.”

  But the elves walked right past Mimi. They acted like they were sniffing the air but hadn’t yet homed in on the scent—and I didn’t think they were tracking the minion’s cologne. “They don’t know who has it!” I whispered to Owen, clutching his sleeve where I still held his elbow. “They didn’t see her at the restaurant, and she’s not wearing the brooch. They must have sensed the brooch was here, but how accurate are they at close range?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.” We went back to work messing with tablecloths but paying far more attention to what was going on with Mimi.

  It turned out to be Mimi who approached the elves. “The band seems to be here,” she told one of her minions. “Check that off.” Then to Sylvester, she said, “Good, you’re here. They’ve got the stage set up over there.” She quirked an eyebrow as she took in an eyeful of Sylvester and Lyle’s vintage eighties attire and added, “I believe I m
entioned on the phone that black tie would be required, so I hope you’re planning to change into your tuxes after you’ve carried in your gear.” When the elves didn’t move, she glared at them and said in a dismissive tone, “You can go set up now.” Without waiting for a response, she and her minions headed off to deal with the next item on her list.

  Lyle turned and started to move away, obeying the order, but Sylvester caught the back of his shirt collar and kept him from going anywhere. Meanwhile, the Elf Lord’s eyes narrowed as he watched Mimi’s rapidly retreating back. One of his slanted eyebrows slowly rose, and he smiled slightly to himself.

  “He’s figured it out,” Owen whispered to me as he pulled a cover off a chair and added it to a growing pile of rejected linens.

  We both turned when someone new ran into the room. It was Earl. He skidded to a stop when he reached his supposed boss. “My lord!” he panted. “I got your message.”

  Sylvester didn’t bother telling him to shut up. He merely raised his hand without turning to look at Earl. Earl made a face at the back of Sylvester’s head, then turned to us and gave a helpless shrug. “He is really on our side, right?” I whispered to Owen.

  “He’s probably trying to keep his cover. At least, I hope so.”

  A funny gleam in his eyes, Sylvester slowly followed Mimi, moving like a sleepwalker. He hadn’t released Lyle’s collar, so his sidekick was forced to go with him. The other elves glanced at each other, then followed their boss. Earl trailed behind all of them. Sylvester raised his hands in front of him to shoulder height—at least, he raised his left hand. His right was still holding on to Lyle. He realized this when his right hand didn’t fall into position, and he quickly released Lyle and resumed whatever he was about to do. Earl called out, “Uh, your lordship?”

  “Not now, Earl,” Sylvester hissed through clenched teeth without taking his eyes off Mimi. Behind him, Earl gave a “Well, I tried” shrug.

  Sylvester’s lips moved, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I felt a slight tingle as the sense of magic in the room built, but nothing happened. Sylvester frowned and brought his hands up in front of his face. “What?” he growled.

  “I tried to warn you, my lord,” Earl said. It was a sign of how stunned Sylvester was that he allowed Earl to speak more than two words. “It’s the Knot. It—”

  “Shut up, Earl,” Sylvester said, returning to his senses.

  “A magical attack wouldn’t work any better than a physical one on someone in possession of the Knot,” Owen said softly to me.

  “So we’ve got the advantage here, since we can physically attack her,” I said.

  “If we can get past her minions.” He grabbed another tablecloth and added it to the pile on the floor.

  Mimi hadn’t noticed the magical attack, but she did notice that the “band” hadn’t gone anywhere. She whirled on Sylvester, her eyes taking on the mad wildness that I used to think of as “Evil Mimi” and that had made working for someone who literally turned into an ogre every so often seem not all that scary in comparison. “I thought I told you to set up,” she snapped. “We don’t have much time, and I don’t want you doing sound checks after the guests start arriving. You will begin playing five minutes before the doors open. Is that understood?”

  The elves took a step backward, and then they all turned as if to go. A second later, Sylvester shook his head and snapped out of it, turning back to face Mimi while catching Lyle by his collar again. The Elf Lord pulled himself to his full height—which seemed to grow a little—and loomed over Mimi. “Do you know who I am?” he thundered. “Who are you to give me orders, little woman?”

  Mimi put one hand on her hip and gave him the full Evil Mimi glare. “I know exactly who you are,” she said in a voice that could have preserved the ice sculpture in a kiln. “You’re a soon-to-be-unemployed musician. Do you know how many talented musicians there are out of work at any given time in this city? With one phone call I could have dozens here competing to take your job.” She turned to her undercover puritan minion and said, “Start making calls.”

  “You are no one to dismiss me,” Sylvester said.

  She put her hand in her pocket, drawing power from the Eye. I could hear that power in the tone of her voice. “Let’s see, I’m the fiancée of a museum trustee, I’m on the board of the foundation benefiting from this event, and I’m the chairwoman of this gala. I am definitely someone to dismiss you.”

  Sylvester’s fingers twitched, and then he seemed to remember that wouldn’t work, and his hands formed into fists at his side. “You are in possession of my property,” he said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even bring in your gear, so don’t expect to get paid.”

  With an animal-like snarl, he leapt forward, aiming for the pocket where the brooch apparently was. The puritan minion moved to intercept him, but Sylvester’s magic worked on him, knocking him aside. Unfortunately, Sylvester was foiled by his own brooch because he was unable to even touch Mimi’s clothes.

  “That’s good to know,” Owen commented to me from behind the chair cover he’d just removed. “We really may be the only ones who can get it off her. It should be safe from the elves.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to stop trying, and we can use that to our advantage,” I said. “Let’s get into position for the next time he knocks aside Minion Number One.”

  The courtyard was now so full of staff setting up the event that it was easy to blend in with all the people moving back and forth. We simply found something that needed to be carried from point A to point B, with point B being near where Mimi and Sylvester stood arguing.

  Sylvester made another go at the brooch, this time neutralizing the puritan minion before starting. Owen reached for Mimi’s pocket under the cover of Sylvester’s attack, but someone else got there first.

  With a bloodthirsty battle cry, Thor, who must have freed himself from his napkin bonds, rushed at Mimi from behind, swinging his axe at her knees. Instead of touching her, the axe hit the air about half an inch away from her, but he responded as though he’d swung his axe with all his strength at a steel beam. His whole body vibrated along with the axe, his vibrations moving him away from Mimi.

  Owen reached down, grabbed his jacket, and slung him under the nearest table. Meanwhile, Mimi shrieked at Sylvester, “This is the second time you’ve attacked me. What is your problem?” She raised her voice and shouted, “Security! Is security here? Get over here, this instant!”

  Several men in uniform rushed forward. Sylvester raised a hand, stopping them in their tracks. The guards wavered, caught between the compulsion to obey the owner of the Eye and Sylvester’s spell holding them motionless. It didn’t help when Mimi shouted again, “Well? I said get over here. Deal with these men. They’re trespassing.” I worried that the guards would spontaneously combust from trying to simultaneously obey two mutually exclusive compulsions.

  Owen used this latest outburst as an opportunity to make another attempt. He had the fake brooch in his hand, ready to slip it into Mimi’s pocket, but the puritan minion came to his senses at the worst possible moment and turned just in time to notice Owen. He caught Owen by the arm, grabbing him hard enough to make him wince.

  I looked around for help. Thor was still vibrating under a table, Earl was pretending to be Sylvester’s loyal servant, Rod was on the other side of the huge room and visibly fighting off the desire to go after the Eye, and I couldn’t see Granny anywhere. That had me almost as worried as the fact that Owen had been caught. Owen was pretty good at taking care of himself, with or without magic, but I wasn’t sure what Granny might be up to or how the Eye was affecting her. I didn’t want to find myself in a situation where I’d have to take down my own grandmother to save the world from her tyranny.

  Sylvester inadvertently came to Owen’s rescue. He’d apparently decided that going with the fiction of being the band for the event was his best chance of staying near the brooch, as he got up in Mimi’s face and said, �
�You wouldn’t dare fire us. You wouldn’t be able to replace us. How many of the unemployed musicians you have on call can do this?” Then he opened his mouth and sang.

  I’d thought Earl’s singing was sublime, but this was beyond that. Earl’s voice still existed in the mortal realm. It was beautiful, but there were human singers who could do almost as well. Sylvester sounded like I’d always imagined angels must sound. The security guards quit struggling, Owen’s captor released him, and everyone in the room stopped what they were doing so they wouldn’t risk missing a note.

  Once he realized he had the room in the palm of his hand, Sylvester signaled to his flunkies, and they joined in, creating an otherworldly harmony that soon had everyone in the room in tears. The magic of it didn’t affect me, but I still found it breathtaking. My brain didn’t seem to want to work anymore. It just wanted to listen to this lovely sound.

  “That was close,” Owen said, rejoining me after escaping the minion’s grip and propelling me behind a sculpture.

  “Hush,” I told him. “This is gorgeous.”

  He frowned in concern. “The elfsong shouldn’t affect you.”

  “Elfsong or not, it’s good music. Oh, wow, but Sylvester can sing.”

  “Huh. Tenors get all the girls.”

  “Baritones are nice, too, and you’ve got a good voice. But you’re not an elf.”

  The question was, how did this affect Mimi? The music was getting to me in spite of my magical immunity, so even if the brooch shielded her from the magical effects, it shouldn’t have kept her from being stirred. Then again, I wasn’t sure Mimi had a soul or that whatever shriveled, dark thing she had in place of a soul was capable of being affected by such pure beauty.

  She listened for a moment, then said, “That’s not at all what was on the demo you sent. You were supposed to be a jazz combo, not an a cappella vocal ensemble.”

  My jaw dropped. Seriously, that was all she could say about this? I’d actually been joking about her having no soul, but maybe I was right. I turned to see that Owen looked equally astonished. “I thought you were exaggerating about her,” he murmured. “I owe you an apology.”