Much Ado About Magic (Enchanted, Inc. 5)

“That’s a check on the gizmo. Other supplies?”

“I’ve got the duct tape,” I said. “And I’m wearing the magic-detecting necklace. I’m good to go.”

“I have my obnoxious tourist camera,” Marcia said, holding up a huge, practically antique thirty-five millimeter camera on a neck strap. “Plus, my map and guidebook.”

“All right, let’s do this,” Gemma said, putting her hand out like we were a team in a huddle. Marcia put hers on top of Gemma’s, and with a sigh and a shrug, I joined them. “We’re like the Charlie’s Angels of magic. Let’s go kick some magical butt,” Gemma said. “Go, team!” Marcia and I echoed her.

Gemma went into character as soon as we left the building, giving us a running commentary on life in Manhattan as though we were tourists who were new to the city. We took the subway to the station nearest the Empire State Building, then Gemma waved her borrowed pass and got us past the line of tourists. We went up in the elevator, then changed elevators to go up to the observation deck.

The higher we went in the building, the more my necklace vibrated. I could also feel the device humming in my bag. Or maybe that was me. My legs were trembling, and I had to hang on to my purse strap to keep my hands from shaking visibly. My friends thought this was a lark, but I knew we could face real danger.

We stepped out of the elevator at the observation level, and I called Owen, hoping that his magical enhancements worked and I would have a cell signal. He answered, and I sighed with relief that things were going according to plan so far. “We’re here,” I said, feeling better to have his voice in my ear. “Now what?”

“Walk around. Let me know what you feel.”

“The necklace is giving me fits.”

“See if it’s stronger in any one direction.”

The observation deck was crowded on a summer Sunday afternoon, so that was easier said than done. On the bright side, having to squirm my way through crowds meant that meandering all over the place wasn’t too terribly obvious. Gemma and Marcia joined me, and, giggling, they both leaned over and said into my earpiece, “Hello, Charlie.”

I gave them what I hoped was a withering glare and hissed, “Knock it off, you two. This is serious.”

“Who’s Charlie?” Owen asked.

“My friends are getting delusions of grandeur about being on a secret mission.” Gemma stuck her tongue out at me, and Marcia took her picture.

“That better not have film in it,” Gemma shrieked, lunging for Marcia’s camera. It was a shame I hadn’t yet found the magical transmitter because they were creating a nice diversion.

“Are you getting anything?” Owen asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell much of a difference.”

There was a tug on my sleeve and an older man said, “Excuse me, miss?”

“Just a sec,” I whispered to Owen. “Yes?” I said to the man.

He held a digital camera out to me and gestured toward his wife. “Could you take our picture?” He had a heavier Southern accent than I did.

“Sure.” I framed them against the skyline and took the picture, then showed it to them on the camera’s LCD screen. “Is that good, or do you want another one?”

“That’s fine, thank you.” As they walked away, I heard him say to his wife, “See, I told you New Yorkers could be friendly.”

“Sorry about that,” I said to Owen. “Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Get out the radio.”

I pulled it out of my purse and almost dropped it, it was vibrating so heavily. “Oh, is the game on?” Gemma said a little too loudly, even though no one seemed to be paying any attention to us. At least, they wouldn’t be if Gemma didn’t keep drawing their attention.

“It’s going nuts,” I told Owen.

“Check the tuner dial. It should move to the right when you get closer to the transmitter.”

I went back to my aimless wandering, holding the radio up to my ear like I was listening to it and checking the dial every so often. It was difficult to be sure I was covering the whole deck when I had to dodge families, proposing couples, and just about every youth choir in America, all of which seemed to feel obligated to perform “God Bless America” a capella on top of the Empire State Building.

“Anything yet?” Owen asked, his voice edgy with impatience.

“Sorry, things are crazy up here. Maybe we should have waited and gone at night.”