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.