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No Quest For The Wicked

Page 39


We hadn’t been in the air too long before I was pretty sure I saw the Empire State Building go by in a blur. We were heading straight down Fifth Avenue, about twenty stories up, and at a dizzying rate of speed. I felt like I should get double world-saving points for this adventure.

And yet, it was better than spending the day at my desk. That thought brought a smile to my face. I leaned back my head and joined Granny in a hearty “Woo hoo!”

A second later, something hit the carpet from below, knocking it sideways. If I hadn’t still had a death grip on it, I’d have fallen right off. My clinging to Owen with my other hand was the only thing that kept him from falling, and his weight almost pulled me off. He grabbed the carpet just in time, giving me a chance to hold on with both hands. Granny had the head of her cane hooked over the side while the driver, tied securely onto the carpet with the fringe, fought desperately to turn it right-side up.

All the while, the carpet plunged downward. The wind, no longer deflected by whatever magical force field usually held it back, whistled fiercely around us. With the passengers hanging on to the edge of the carpet, it couldn’t right itself. It was as though three people were trying to climb into a canoe at the same time.

Granny shouted something, but I couldn’t make out the words over the roar of the wind. I didn’t think she was talking to me, though. She seemed to be talking to the carpet, probably telling it to straighten up and fly right, if it knew what was good for it, because she had beaten plenty of rugs in her time.

Whatever she said, it worked. The carpet gradually rolled back to its proper position, with us lying across it. “Now, that’s more like it,” she said with a grunt of satisfaction. I pressed my cheek against the carpet pile and took several deep breaths before carefully sitting up. Owen and I took one look at each other and fell together in a one-armed hug—each of us keeping a hand firmly on the carpet.


“What happened?” I asked Owen as I clung to him. “I thought these things were supposed to be safe.”

“This isn’t the time for that sort of thing,” Granny snapped before Owen could respond. “You two need to see this.”

I reluctantly looked away from Owen to where Granny was pointing. A gargoyle flew toward us, but it wasn’t any MSI gargoyle I’d ever met. This one looked ancient. It was nearly featureless from time and the elements wearing away the carving, and its stony skin was stained and mossy.

“That’s not one of ours,” Owen said, releasing me to reach for his phone. He flipped the phone open and said, “Sam, we’re under attack. Fifth Avenue, probably around Madison Square by now. It’s a gargoyle, and I don’t think it’s local.” He closed the phone and returned it to his pocket as he said, “They’re sending help.”

I was afraid the help wouldn’t arrive soon enough. The strange gargoyle wheeled around to fly straight at us, on a collision course. The carpet twisted out of the way just in time, like a matador’s cape being whisked away from the bull’s charge. For a moment, my fingertips were the only part of me still connected to the carpet. I could see the street directly below me. The ancient gargoyle’s momentum sent it flying down a cross street while we barely jerked away before we slammed into the side of a building. When our driver had recovered from the near-miss and had the carpet back in the proper position, he poured on the speed.

To no avail. This gargoyle wasn’t as agile as the ones I knew, so it couldn’t turn on a dime, but it could build up some speed once it got started. This time, it came from above, dropping with its clawed feet extended. If it hit us, it would knock us out of the sky. To my dismay, our driver flew straight toward it on a collision course. At the last second, the carpet jerked to the side and practically came to a midair halt. The gargoyle shot past, unable to adjust its course in time. Our carpet sped up again, rising to fly over the roof of a nearby building, then dropping as we flew down Broadway. Our driver used the tall buildings as cover.

We reached Union Square without further incident. I let myself relax slightly, but then Owen called out a warning. The ancient gargoyle was back, approaching us quickly with its mouth pulled back in a rictus-like grimace. Our carpet sped up, and the gargoyle kept up, gaining on us. I couldn’t bear to watch and turned to Owen. His jaw was clenched in frustration, and his cheeks flamed as his fingers twitched. I figured he couldn’t possibly want to be able to do magic now more than I wanted him to.

“You get away! Shoo!” Granny shouted, waving at the gargoyle as it drew near. I wasn’t sure what she did, but the gargoyle veered away, furiously flapping its wings. It looked like it had been blown off course.
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