Owen rolled his eyes and turned to head into the subway, muttering under his breath. I hurried to follow him, but paused to look back when I heard a loud bang. Idris’s drums had exploded in a shower of silver dust, earning far more applause than his playing had. I got the impression that Owen hadn’t been muttering curses. Well, not the obscene kind, anyway.
I caught up to Owen just past the turnstiles. “He’s up to something,” he said, more like he was talking to himself than to me.
“Isn’t he always?”
“Well, yeah, I guess. But sending me a message like this means he’s up to something new, and he wants me to know about it.”
“Doesn’t that sort of ruin the element of surprise? You’d think he’d accomplish more if he didn’t give you advance warning.”
“Yeah, you’d think, but he doesn’t work that way. I suspect half the fun for him is watching us react.” He frowned. “Unless maybe he isn’t up to anything at all, and he just wants us to think he is.”
“Owen, if you keep that up, your brain is going to explode.”
He looked at me, then shook his head and laughed. “I am sounding paranoid. Okay, I won’t let him get to me.”
The rest of our commute went without incident. We got off at the City Hall station, crossed the park and a street, then headed down a side street to the castle-like building that housed MSI. A cheerful voice greeted us as we approached. “And a good Monday to you!” it said.
Both of us looked up to see a gargoyle perched on the awning over the front door. “Good morning, Sam,” I said. Sam was in charge of security for MSI.
“How was the hot date?” the gargoyle asked with a wink.
“It was good, thanks.”
“Everything under control, Sam?” Owen asked.
Sam saluted with one wing. “The building’s still standing.”
Owen grinned. “Keep up the good work.”
Inside, Owen and I parted ways, him heading to Research and Development, me heading up to the executive suite, where I was assistant to Ambrose Mervyn, the chief executive officer. He’s better known as Merlin. Yes, the Merlin, as in King Arthur and all that. He’d founded what had gone on to become this company, then was revived recently from a sort of magical hibernation to take charge once again as we faced the serious crisis of dealing with Phelan Idris and his dark spells.
I found Merlin at his receptionist’s desk, fiddling with the telephone. He might be a legendary genius, but he was new to the twenty-first century. I had a feeling that within days, though, he’d know exactly how a telephone worked and might even have built one from scratch.
“Good morning, Katie,” he greeted me.
“Good morning. Where’s Trix?”
“I’m afraid she’s out ill. Would you mind sitting at her desk today?”
“Not at all. I’ll move my laptop out here.”
“Thank you. I don’t seem to recall fairies becoming ill that often, so I do hope it isn’t serious.”
It must have been serious, considering how eager she’d been to hear about my date with Ethan. I made a mental note to ask Ari if she knew anything. I got my computer from my office, then settled in at Trix’s desk.
Merlin went back to his office, returning moments later with his calendar. “I have a meeting this morning at ten, very important. Amalgamated Neuromancy is open to joining us for the fight against Phelan Idris and his upstart venture, but there are some details we need to discuss.”
I made a note on the desktop calendar. “Will you need me for that?” In addition to being Merlin’s executive assistant, I was also his personal verifier, ensuring no magical cheats or shortcuts were used against him.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” His eyes twinkled. “I intend to apply some personal persuasive techniques against their chief executive, so it would be best if there are no outsiders present.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Okay, gotcha. I’ll let you know when he arrives.”
“Thank you.” He started to head for his office, then turned back. “By the way, I understand you and Mr. Wainwright went out together Saturday night. How did that go?”
This place was worse than a small town. Even the thousand-plus-year-old boss knew about my dating life. “It was nice. He took me to a wine dinner. Come to think of it, have you heard of the Pegasus Winery? I think they might be magical. It looked to me like they enchanted the guests with magical wine, then tried to cheat them on wine purchases. The way people were acting, it reminded me of that spell Idris was selling, the one Owen was testing.”
“I don’t recall having heard of them, but you should probably ask around. I hope you and Mr. Wainwright put a stop to it.”