No Quest For The Wicked

“You were trying to take the brooch,” I said. “I had to leave you. And I’m okay. Well, I will be when I’ve had a hot bath, an aspirin, and some sleep.”

“The brooch must be safe. I don’t feel it anymore,” Granny said.

“It’s destroyed,” Owen said. “It shouldn’t be a problem ever again. But just in case …” He tried to get to his feet, and I forced myself to stand to give him a hand up. The guy with Granny stepped forward to help. Owen looked at him, frowning. He must have had the same familiar/unfamiliar sense from him that I had. “Rod,” he said, “I thought you were going to drop that illusion.”

A second later, what little color he had left drained entirely from his face as the implication of that caught up with him. It took me a second longer to realize that I, too, was seeing Rod’s illusion that he wore to make himself appear more handsome. But illusions didn’t work on me, and they hadn’t worked on Owen since he’d lost his powers last summer.

“Owen?” Rod whispered.

Owen didn’t seem to hear him. He held his hand out in front of him, and soon a soft glow formed in his palm. “The blast when the Eye was destroyed, it must have done something,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Yeah, I think a good blast of magic like that could be enough to reboot the system,” Sam said.

I was afraid to ask what might have happened to me. If I saw Rod’s illusion, then I’d lost my magical immunity. The blast must have turned me ordinary—normal ordinary, neither magical nor immune to magic. It looked like I’d be stuck in the marketing department, after all, in a job where my magical status didn’t matter. I was glad I was too tired to cry because that kept me from embarrassing myself by bursting into tears.

I’d learned the hard way that when something odd was going on with me, I needed to say something instead of trying to hide it, even if I didn’t want to face the truth of it. I waited until Owen seemed to have grasped the impact of having his magical powers back before clearing my throat and saying, “I see Rod’s illusion, too.”

Owen immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed to my side, taking my hands. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing my voice to sound firm and brave. “It’s just like that time when the potion took away my immunity.” I managed a casual little shrug and a wry grin. “I guess I’ll have to give up that idea of working in security. A ‘normal’ person won’t be much use there.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Owen said. “The line between powers and immunity is a fine one. If the explosion restored my powers …” His voice trailed off, and he squeezed my hands. “Okay, I need you to concentrate. Hold your hands out like so—” He turned my palms upward. “Now, imagine your hands growing warm, so warm that they’re glowing.” I closed my eyes and did as he directed. That weird buzzing tingle that had been running through my body since I woke up intensified. “Good,” Owen’s voice said softly. “Now let the glow lift into the air.” I tried doing that, then opened my eyes to see what was happening.

Small, faint balls of light hung in the air in front of my face. “Did I do that?” I squeaked.

Owen squeezed my hands. “You did that.”

“Yep, that’s why I had to come,” Granny said with a knowing nod. “You’ll need me here to help you adjust. I don’t want you to turn out like your brother. If I’d guided him as he learned to use his powers, maybe he wouldn’t have been such an idiot about it.”

“You mean, I have magic powers now?” I asked.

“Looks like it,” Owen said.

“For good?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to do some research.” For Owen, that was like saying he’d have to eat chocolate cake. His eyes were already sparkling.

Still holding my hand, he walked with me to the edge of the platform, then gestured with his fingers. The ruined remains of the brooch flew into his hand. He swayed slightly as it touched him. “It still has a little juice in it, but it’s limited to direct contact,” he said. “To be on the safe side, could someone please hand me that box.”

Rod brought over the box, and Owen placed the ruined brooch inside, then closed the lid and sealed it. He waved his hand over it, and the whole box glowed briefly before the light dimmed and it became just another wooden box.

“But you had no magic!” a voice cried in protest. Raphael was awake and staring in horror at Owen.