No Quest For The Wicked

He came to a sudden halt, nearly creating a minor pile-up on the sidewalk. I didn’t stop in time and staggered backward, my arm still caught in his. “That’s it!” he said.

“You’ve finally solved that global warming problem?” Rod joked.

Owen shook his head. “No, I know where I’ve seen those spells the doorman used. They’re from the Ephemera.”

Chapter Eight

“You recognized those spells?” Rod asked.

“There was something familiar about them, but I wasn’t sure why, and it’s been bugging me ever since,” Owen said.

“If they’re from the Ephemera, does that mean they’re evil spells?” I asked, shivering as my skin crawled.

“Not necessarily,” Owen said. “The book itself is contaminated with evil enchantments, and a lot of the contents have spells embedded, but a good portion of the book merely records spells that were in use at that time. Those spells the doorman used were ancient, and he used the archaic forms.”

“Does that mean someone else has access to the Ephemera, or is there another copy?” Rod asked.

“I don’t know. Surely those spells were recorded somewhere else. We’ve moved so far beyond the magic from that time that even our historians don’t generally go back that far in researching spells. But it would explain why we had so much trouble fighting him. It’s like the way sometimes a really outdated computer can be more secure because the current viruses won’t even run on that operating system.”

“Keep walking,” Sam interrupted. “You don’t want our friend to overhear you or think you’ve made him.”

We began moving again, Owen having to work to walk, talk, and think all at the same time. I held onto him to steer him around obstacles. Rod asked him, “Now that you know the source, do you know how to fight those spells?”

Owen shook his head with a groan of frustration. “No. Normally, I would have internalized the spells as I translated them, but since I can’t work them right now, I only remember bits and pieces, and it’s too risky not to go word-for-word. One variation and you might blow something up or fry yourself.”

“And you can’t carry the book around because it’s too dangerous,” Rod said with a nod.

“But the transcriptions of those parts could be safe. I should go back to the office and get them. You might have to go up against those people again.”

“Do we have time for that?” I asked. “We need to find Mimi before she has a captive audience at this gala that she can recruit into her army of doom for taking over the city.”

The two guys glanced at their watches. Rod said, “I don’t want to face those spells again without some help. You go, and the rest of us will keep checking salons.”

“I’ll need Katie, though,” Owen said. “She’s the only other person who can get into the manuscript vault, and it’ll go faster if we’re both digging through the notes. That leaves you without an immune.”

“We’ll just do recon and surveillance. If we find Mimi, we’ll track her from a safe distance.”

As Sam had promised, there were two carpets waiting around the corner a block away. Earl was also waiting there, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head. “I didn’t see anyone following you,” he said, “and they didn’t seem to be following me.”

I tore the pages out of my notepad and handed them to Rod. “Here’s the list of salons. You saw the newspaper picture, right? You’re looking for a tall, curly-haired redhead with demonic eyes. The people around her will either be cowering, crying, or looking for weapons.”

Sam perched where he could read over Rod’s shoulder. “I’ll check on a few of these for you. I may be able to do a fly-by.”

Owen jumped onto one of the carpets, and when I followed him, Granny came with me. “I’m sticking with you,” she said, her tone making it clear that there would be no point in arguing.

I gave Owen a helpless shrug, and he said, “It won’t hurt for us to have a magic user with us.” To Rod, he added, “Keep in touch and let us know where to meet.” Once he’d helped Granny on board, he told the driver, “To the office, please, and we’re in a hurry.”

The carpet lifted, then soared skyward as it zoomed down Park Avenue. I’d thought we’d gone quickly before, but it seemed like we were close to breaking the sound barrier. I couldn’t even recognize landmarks. I held on to Owen with one hand and the carpet with the other, and even Owen seemed tense. But Granny shouted with glee, “Woo hoo! Now, this is what I call traveling!”