No Quest for the Wicked (8 page)

The thugs nodded wide-eyed at her, then slunk away. The purse’s owner turned to Granny. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t caught them. My whole life is in this bag.” She opened her wallet, took out a bill, and tried to hand it to Granny, but Granny shook her head.

“No, I’m just looking out for my neighbor like the good Lord says to do. You go on and have a good day.”

The woman shifted the baby on her hip, reshouldered her purse and said, “Well, thank you very much.”

When she was gone, I stepped forward to approach Granny, but froze when a gruff voice behind me said, “So, now you’re bringing in an outside wizard for the search. What do you have planned for when you get that brooch?”

Chapter Five

I slowly turned around to see a bearded gnome wearing a track suit with white pants, a yellow jacket, and a baseball hat. There was something awfully familiar about him. If those white pants were tucked into tall boots, if he posed properly, and if I saw him out of the corner of my eye, he’d look like … “You!” I blurted. “You’re the extra jockey! I knew I saw something at the restaurant.”

“Aw, you spotted me back there?” the gnome grumbled. “I thought that was a pretty good disguise, even if I hadn’t also used some magic.”

“Your magical veiling doesn’t work on me,” I said. “And I haven’t seen too many jockeys with long, white beards.”

“You saw him before?” Owen asked me.

“He was hiding among those jockey statuettes in front of Twenty-one. I guess I got distracted by that other guy I saw and forgot to say anything.” To the gnome, I said, “But how did you find us here?”

“I’ve got my ways,” he said, stroking his beard.

“The hawk works for you, not the elves,” Owen concluded.

The gnome’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “You spotted the hawk?”

“I thought we evaded that hawk,” Rod said with a scowl.

The gnome chortled. “Yeah, you thought you did.”

“There you are, Katie,” Granny said, spotting me. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting all day.”

I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Granny, but I only just got the message. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“It was an emergency. I didn’t have time to call.”

My heart leapt as I imagined all the horrible things that could have happened to my family. “Oh no! What is it?”

“I don’t know yet. But something’s about to happen to you, I can feel it in my bones, and you’ll need me there when it does.”

That was even more alarming. I reached for Owen’s hand and clutched it as I said, “Something’s going to happen to me? Something bad?”

“Good, bad, who can say? I just know that you’ll need me here, and I want to be ready when the time comes.” She turned to fix Owen with her beady eyes. “Good to see you again, boy.” Then she frowned. “My, but you’ve changed. What happened to you?”

Owen winced. “It’s a very long story.”

“Granny, Owen has offered to let you stay in his guest room,” I said, changing the subject before she could demand the whole story, right there in the station. “We don’t have room for guests in our apartment, and Owen’s place is nicer than a hotel.”

“That’s kind of you,” she said, then she smiled at Rod. “And you’re here, too. What a welcoming committee. I guess if you can’t get here on time, you bring more people.”

“And it’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Callahan,” Rod said smoothly.

She fluttered her eyelashes at him and extended her hand to let him kiss it gallantly. “It’s good to see that someone in this city knows how to treat a lady.”

“Hey, excuse me, but I wasn’t finished!” the gnome said, elbowing his way into the middle of the group.

“Manners, little man,” Granny scolded with a warning shake of her cane. “You don’t talk to ladies like that—or gentlemen, either, for that matter. What do people teach their children around here?”

The gnome ignored her as he focused on Owen. “Now, as I was saying, I want to know what you people have planned for that brooch. It looks like you’ve got a whole operation going on here.”

“We’re trying to
find
that brooch,” Owen said.

“I can see that, son. I’ve got two perfectly good eyes. I’ve also got a perfectly good battleaxe, and I’ll start swinging it if I don’t get a straight answer soon.”

I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from telling him that we also had a perfectly good battleaxe, and that she was probably sharper and more dangerous than his. Granny might take offense at that.

“We want to make sure the brooch doesn’t fall into the wrong hands, and when we do find it, we want to destroy the Eye to make sure it can never be used again,” Owen explained patiently. “Now, what is your interest in the brooch?”

“It’s an epic story of the sort that should be shared over food and ale.”

“We don’t have time for that right now. Short version?”

“Let’s just say we have similar goals—and I’m here to make sure you people aren’t the wrong hands. I’m also hoping that by following you, I might be able to find and catch some of those wrong hands.”

“What’s this brooch?” Granny asked.

“A very bad magic thing,” I explained. “Makes everyone around it crave power while making the wearer extra powerful and invulnerable.”

She snorted. “Any wizard worth his salt doesn’t need that sort of trinket. If you can’t do it on your own, then you don’t deserve the power.”

All of us turned to stare at her, and I gave an involuntary shudder. I’d only recently learned that my grandmother had magical powers, and now I had to wonder what, exactly, she could do.

“Why have you brought this powerful outside wizard?” the gnome asked. “Don’t you realize that someone like her would be dangerous around the Eye?”

“She’s not an outside wizard,” I said. “Well, she is, but she’s my grandmother, who picked a very interesting day for a visit.”

The gnome turned to frown at her. “This is true, lady?”

She pulled herself to her full height, which wasn’t much taller than the gnome. “Do I look like the sort of person who lies?” she said, her tone so icy it made me shiver. “I do my magic the old-fashioned way, without trinkets. If it doesn’t come naturally, I’ve got no use for it.”

He stared at her for a long time while she returned his stare, then at last he nodded. “You, I trust.” He turned back to us. “This bunch, on the other hand …”

“Hey!” I protested.

Rod stepped forward with his hand outstretched and said in his most charming tone, “Rod Gwaltney, MSI. Glad to meet you.”

The gnome frowned. “You’re MSI?”

“All of us are,” Rod said. “Allow me to introduce my colleagues. This is Katie Chandler, magical immune extraordinaire and granddaughter of Mrs. Callahan, our esteemed visiting wizard. The gentleman is Owen Palmer.”

The gnome took a step backward, pulling a tiny double-headed axe from under the back of his track suit jacket. He hissed through his teeth as he glared at Owen. “Palmer? After the Eye? I don’t like this.”

Owen held his hands up in a halfhearted gesture of surrender. “I’m getting really tired of this,” he said. “A: I’m not evil. Never have been, never will be. And B: No magic. None at all. I lost it completely. I’m even immune to magic. The Eye would be even less useful to me than a snowglobe.”

“You know, we should probably get you a button saying that so you don’t have to repeat it all the time,” I muttered. “Or a T-shirt.”

Granny nodded sagely. “Yep, I thought you looked different. What happened, boy?”

“I’ll explain later,” I whispered to Granny.

She addressed the gnome. “Do you think I’d let him near my granddaughter if I thought he was evil? Do you not trust my judgment?”

The gnome studied her for a moment, turned to look at Owen, then bowed to Granny and said, “I accept your wisdom.” To Owen he added, “But I’m watching you, Palmer. Try any funny business and you won’t be immune to my axe.”

Owen gave him a thin smile. “Likewise. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have an evil piece of jewelry to track down before all of Manhattan is laid to waste, and we have about—” he checked his watch “—ten minutes to catch up with a possible lead.”

The gnome re-holstered his axe, then said, “I’m coming with you. I figure you’re more likely to find this thing first than those dopey elves are, so I’m throwing my lot in with you.”

“I don’t recall inviting you,” Rod said, looming over the gnome, who only came up to his waist.

“I’m not giving you an option, kid.” The gnome gave us a formal bow and said, “Thorson Gilthammer, at your service. But you can call me Thor.”

I couldn’t keep a straight face at the idea of someone who looked like a lawn ornament on a weekend trip to Atlantic City with his friends from the senior center being called “Thor.” But he did carry an axe that would probably shatter my ankle, so I turned away and disguised my giggles in a coughing fit.

Granny didn’t understand the concept of tact, so I worried that she’d start an interspecies incident, but all she said was, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Thor. You can call me Granny. Glad to have you on the team.”

“Um, Granny, you don’t have to come with us,” I said. In spite of what she’d said about not needing trinkets, I didn’t like the idea of her anywhere near the Eye. “We were going to get you a cab. Merlin said he was looking forward to seeing you and offered to let you stay at his office while we’re wrapping this up.”

“You’ll not get rid of me that easily, Katie Beth,” she said, shaking her cane at me. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. That’s the reason I came up here. That thing I felt could happen at any moment, and I
will
be there for it.”

“Don’t you have luggage?” I asked in a desperate attempt to find some reason she had to go to the office. “We’ll need to do something with it before we can go wandering around town.”

“Didn’t bring any. It would just get in my way.” She raised her enormous tote bag. “I’ve got a change of underwear and a toothbrush in here.”

Thor gazed at her in admiration. “Now, there’s a lady who knows how to go on a quest.” He looked up at the rest of us and asked, “So, where are we going to track down this possible lead?”

“Macy’s,” Rod said.

“Good, I could use a new girdle,” Granny said, heading out and plowing her way through the crowds. Although she’d never been to New York before, she somehow headed in the right direction. The rest of us had to hurry to keep up with her.

*

“Who are we looking for?” I asked Owen as our odd little party entered the department store.

“A Natalie Winters.”

“We need a plan for approaching her,” I said. “We won’t be able to just walk up to her and ask if she got an interesting brooch for her birthday today. If she is our woman, we can’t afford to make her suspicious.”

“A personal shopper would help her choose clothes that flatter her and are suitable for her needs,” Rod said. “If we can get to her before the real shopper does, it would be easy enough to ask if there’s any accessory she wants to match.”

“Looks like we’ve got a volunteer,” I said.

“What? Me?” He shook his head. “No, no, no.”

“You want
me
helping a woman choose clothes?” I asked, gesturing at my current outfit, which could probably best be described as “business bland.”

He studied me, and I could tell he was wrestling with a diplomatic way to respond. “You don’t look bad,” he said at last.

“It took Gemma’s help to get me this far.”

“And I don’t shop,” Owen added.

A saleswoman approached us, gave Owen a dazzling smile, and asked, “Can I help you find something?”

Owen immediately turned bright red and started stammering. I’d almost forgotten about his shyness, it had been so long since I’d seen him outside the office basement. He could handle himself in an official capacity or with people he knew and trusted, but around strangers, he blushed and clammed up. It was really rather adorable.

Rod intervened, asking the saleswoman, “We were wondering about your personal shopper service.”

“That would be on the third floor,” she told him.

When she was gone, I said, “Owen also doesn’t talk to strangers. Which leaves you. You’re great with women.” I didn’t think that Granny or Thor would even be in the running for posing as a personal shopper.

“Okay, okay. If you think I can pull this off.”

I patted him on the shoulder as we headed to the escalators. “Just pour on your usual charm, and you should do fine.”

“I haven’t used my ‘usual charm’ in ages. I’ve been trying to be good, but it’s hard to reform when you people keep pulling me back in.”

“It’s all in the line of duty. You’re playing Don Juan for a cause now, not for selfish reasons.”

Up on the third floor, a frighteningly thin blond (probably fake, but with no roots showing) woman in a severe suit stood waiting, tapping the pointy toe of her high-heeled shoe impatiently, even though it was still several minutes before her appointment. “That’s got to be her,” Rod whispered.

“Do you feel anything that might be the Eye?” I asked him, also in a whisper.

He shook his head. “If she’s got it, it’s in the box. Do you think she’d be standing there, waiting, if the Eye were working?”

“Good point. Now, go get ’em, tiger. We’re all counting on you. But no pressure!”

While the rest of us lurked behind mannequins, Rod dialed up the charm to maximum levels and approached the woman. “Ms. Winters?” he asked.

“Yes.” She snapped out the word.

“I’m André, and I’ll be helping you today.”

“My appointment was with Cecile.”

“I’m afraid Cecile had a family emergency, so she asked me to fill in until she could get here. She sent her most sincere apologies. Now, is there something in particular you’re looking for today? Any big events you need to dress for or pieces you want to build an outfit around?”

She looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Cecile usually pulls pieces and has them ready when I arrive. I told her what I wanted when I made the appointment.”

“Oh, ah, um,” Rod stammered. He sounded a lot like Owen. This was not a good time for him to lose his mojo and turn bashful. Then I felt an increase in magical use as he gave up trying to do this the hard way and hit her full-on with the whammy. “I wanted to add my personal touch,” he said, his voice soft and seductive as he reached out to touch her hand.