No Quest For The Wicked

The cake decorators cringed and cowered, looking like dogs being scolded for making a mess on the carpet. That left Granny to face Mimi. She looked up at Mimi and snapped, “It’s a wheelchair made out of cake. Any fool can see that. What did you think it was?”

Mimi was struck speechless. I wished I had a video camera because that wasn’t something that happened often. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. She coughed, then sputtered, “I meant, why isn’t it the way I ordered it?”

“And how did you order it?” Granny asked, her hands tightening on the top of her cane and her voice taking on an edge I recognized all too well. When her voice got that tone to it, even my mother quit arguing with her—and my mother’s main hobby, aside from trying to make me wear more makeup, was arguing with her mother.

Mimi was distracted enough for me to slip in close to her, but her brooch pocket was too close to the cake table, and then she put her hand in her pocket, presumably to draw strength from the Eye so she could deal with Granny. “It–it was supposed to have a more metallic look in the icing,” Mimi eventually managed to say.

Granny nodded. “Yes, I can see where that would be important. Metallic icing is just what’s keeping a cake shaped like a wheelchair from being tasteful.” The cake decorators grinned and clustered around Granny.

Even from where I stood, I could see the lump in Mimi’s pocket where she formed a fist around the brooch. When she spoke, her words were tinged with power. “Do it as I ordered it.”

Granny stared her down in silence. The cake crew started to cower again, but then drew strength from Granny and straightened defiantly. When Mimi began twitching anxiously, Granny said, “Well, alrighty, then. Girls, throw on some silver glitter. Don’t worry about how it’ll make the cake taste. Taste is obviously not a concern here. Want us to add some streamers to the handles? That’ll really jazz it up.” Behind her, the crew took some little vials of silver cake décor and began sprinkling it on the metal parts of the wheelchair cake. They hadn’t even waited for Mimi’s reply.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Either the Eye had met its match and found the one force in the universe that was more powerful than it was, or Granny was drawing power from the stone without actually being in possession of it. She was in total control of the situation, even while Mimi desperately clutched the brooch. I supposed it helped that Granny knew exactly what she was dealing with and maybe even knew how to channel its power, while Mimi had no idea what was going on other than that touching the brooch made her feel stronger.

I moved so that I could catch Granny’s eye over Mimi’s shoulder. If Granny was channeling the Eye, then maybe she could get Mimi to obey her. When I was sure Granny was looking at me, I mimed taking something out of my pocket and handing it over. Granny didn’t acknowledge me, but she stared Mimi down again and said, “Why don’t you show me that pretty thing you’ve got? Maybe we could work the design into the cake. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Her voice had softened, taking on the tone of someone trying to get a toddler to hand over her candy, but it still had an edge of command to it, very much like the tone Mimi got when she touched the brooch.

Mimi’s hand slowly moved out of her pocket. I couldn’t see from my angle, but it looked like she was taking the brooch out. She held her palm out to Granny, and Granny leaned over to look at it. “Ah, very nice, isn’t it?” she said sweetly. Then her voice hardened and she added, “Give it to me!”

The puritan minion jumped forward to intercept, but he wasn’t fast enough. Mimi’s arm moved as though she was really going to do it, but then she jerked back, clutching the brooch against her chest and crying, “No! It’s mine!” Her minion breathed an obvious sigh of relief. Mimi shoved the brooch back into her pocket and kept her hand in there. It had come so close to working, but now I didn’t stand a chance of getting it away from her anytime soon. She’d be extra-clingy.

I headed over to where Owen had watched the whole incident while spreading cloths over tables. “That was …interesting,” he said.

“I think Granny was using the Eye,” I said, running my hand across the tablecloth to smooth out a wrinkle. “Is that possible?”

“Maybe. There had to be a way of overpowering the owner and taking it over, or it wouldn’t have stirred up so much strife. The owner could have just commanded everyone to back off. A powerful person who knows what she’s doing might be able to use it from nearby without actually touching it or possessing it.”