Damsel Under Stress (Enchanted, Inc. 3)

“On the bright side, that does mean we don’t have another mole or double agent.”

“But on the not-so-bright side, it also means there’s an outsider who can get through every layer of security we’ve got.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” I ate some more, keeping my mouth busy with the food so I wouldn’t be tempted to say something stupid. After a while, though, I couldn’t help myself. “Could it be an ex-employee? I mean, other than Idris. Someone who might not be in your current files but who would know something about how to get past security? I don’t know if you could magically change the locks, so to speak, but that would explain someone being able to get in.”

“We did change the security wards after Idris was fired. I can’t think of anyone who was at a high enough level to have that kind of access who has left between then and now.”

“There’s the former boss,” I reminded him.

He frowned. “No, I don’t think so. As I said, he retired on good terms, and he’s not even living in the city anymore. It was his idea to revive Merlin, and if he were in league with Idris, that would be the last thing he’d want to do. He was the one to make the final call on firing Idris. If he wanted to delve into that kind of magic, you’d think he would have stayed on board and turned the direction of the company around.” He raised an eyebrow and flashed me a crooked smile. “And then I guess I’d have been the dangerous rogue wizard trying to bring down the company.”

“I suspect you’d have been a lot more successful than he has been.”

“That’s because I’d be the good guy.”

“Yeah, because the good guys always win in the real world. Meanwhile, I may have found something else.” I briefly told him about Philip’s predicament and the skeletal creature in the office.

“I haven’t heard of anyone else using that kind of creature,” he said. “It seems to be unique to Idris. If he’s allied with someone like that, then it could mean he’s found funding, and it means there are people within the establishment who might support his goals. That widens the scope of our problem somewhat.”

After we finished breakfast and washed the dishes, we bundled up against the cold, then headed outside, where we walked side by side down the street. We took the subway and got off at Thirty-fourth Street for a quick peek at Santa at Macy’s, then headed over to Fifth Avenue. We worked our way up the avenue, stopping in front of each elaborately decorated store window. I felt like a little kid, back in the days when I’d been utterly enchanted by the tinsel and lights strung around the shop windows on the town square back home.

At one particular store, Owen made a point of steering me to the front of the crowd to get a good look at the window. It was an intricate woodland scene, with fairies fluttering over a toadstool village inhabited by gnomes while snow drifted down from overhead. This wasn’t one of the famous department stores, but it was the most exquisite window I’d seen yet, with the figures looking incredibly lifelike. They even had facial expressions. One of the fairies winked as she fluttered past the front of the display window. After we’d watched the window for a while, I realized that the patterns of the figures didn’t repeat. They were spontaneous and random. I started to blurt, “These are for real!” but caught myself just in time and whispered it to Owen instead.

He leaned forward and rested his chin on my shoulder so he could whisper back. If it hadn’t been so cold, I was sure I’d have melted into a puddle of goo on the sidewalk from having him next to me like that. “Yes. They work in shifts. It’s one of the more popular seasonal jobs in the magical world.”

“Are any of the other windows magical?”

“I’d say there’s a little magic involved in all of them.”

“Real or figurative?”

“Ah, that’s the big question.”

We continued walking up the avenue and enjoying the seasonal sights until we reached the big FAO Schwarz toy store. “Ready to regress to childhood?” he asked.

“Always!”

The doorman dressed as a toy soldier ushered us inside, where we were surrounded by every kind of stuffed animal. “The good stuff is upstairs,” Owen said, and I knew what he meant as soon as we reached the top of the escalator. That was where the giant piano kids could play by running around on it was, but that wasn’t what caught Owen’s attention. He was focused on the display of magic kits, which were being demonstrated by a young employee. I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing. Not only was Owen a genuine wizard, but he also had a knack for stage magic. You had to know your magic to be sure whether he was using sleight of hand or real magic. If the demonstrator picked the wrong audience volunteer, I knew this could get interesting.

We stood near the back of the cluster of shoppers that had formed around the demonstration table, then as the employee finished a trick, that group trickled away and we moved to the front. The next volunteer was a little boy, who could never properly guess which card would be drawn, while the demonstrator got it right every time. The demonstrator then turned to Owen, who guessed correctly. That took the demonstrator aback. He turned to get another trick from his case, and Owen bent to whisper to me, “I’ve got the same set.”

From there, it turned into a game of magical one-upmanship, each of them trying to stump the other. As far as I could tell, Owen wasn’t using real magic. I could usually sense the tingle of power in use if I was paying attention. A larger and larger crowd formed as the show grew more and more spectacular. The demonstrator finally pulled out a silk top hat, showed everyone that it was empty, then pulled a plume of feathers out of it. He handed the hat to Owen, who shrugged and reached inside. That time, I felt a tingle. Owen pulled a live rabbit out of the hat, to much applause. While everyone was applauding, the rabbit turned into a stuffed toy, which Owen handed to the little girl next to him.

We slipped away in the commotion as the shoppers surged forward to buy magic kits. The still-baffled employee kept shouting that the rabbit trick wasn’t included in the kit. On the way down the escalator, I elbowed Owen. “You cheated.”

“I couldn’t let a college student beat a real wizard,” he said with a grin and a blush. “It would be bad for my reputation. And he’s going to sell a lot of magic kits.”

“Nice justification. But don’t you feel bad that he’ll be spending months trying to figure out how you got a rabbit out of that hat?”

“He’d be better off working on his technique so he can fool your average ten-year-old. Ready for lunch?”

I was hungry enough in spite of the big breakfast that I didn’t mind him changing the subject that way. We found a deli nearby, and it felt incredibly good to sit down after all the walking we’d done. “How have you enjoyed the day so far?” he asked.

“It’s been wonderful. I saw some of these places before when I was with Mom at Thanksgiving, but at the time I was so worried about what else we might run into that I barely noticed them. It was nice to be able to take our time and enjoy it all.”

“I’m glad it hasn’t been a total waste of time.”

“Oh no! It’s been great.”