Wicked Hungry
I nod.
“No witnesses?”
“Hold on there, Whelan. This is none of your business.”
“It is my business. And it sounds to me like it may be the Guild’s business, too.”
“Guild’s business?” Enrique asks.
“Wizard’s Guild,” Blaine says. “As Gatekeeper, I’m an honorary member.”
“Now is not the time to invoke the Guild,” says Mr. Piper. “I’ll just take Stanley now and let you go on with your work. We both have a busy night ahead of us.”
“Stanley,” Blaine says. “Listen to me carefully: Did he play his flute?”
“You can’t trust this boy’s memory, Whelan. He’s just a kid.”
“Shut it, Piper, or I will invoke the Guild.”
Piper shuts it. But he holds his flute up. The ghouls behind him twitch spastically, as if trying to free themselves from his hold. He plays a note or two; the music is enchanting, but it’s not meant for me. The ghouls grow calm, stand steady.
Blaine Whelan grabs my shoulder and I turn to look him in the eyes.
“I repeat my question, Stanley: Did he play his flute when you promised him a favor?”
“I think so,” I say.
“You think so? Or are you sure?”
“I can’t remember,” I say.
“Blaine,” says Connor. “Gaze him. It’s the only way.”
“He’s too young—”
“We don’t have time.”
“Fine,” Blaine says, but from his voice, it sounds like nothing is fine.
He looks me in the eyes and I’m lost in the forest, and he asks me again.
“Did the piper play his flute when you were in the office with him?”
“Yes,” I say. “And then he told me I owed him a favor, and I agreed.”
r /> Suddenly he turns away, and I’m back to reality.
“You’ve tricked him,” Piper says. “This is all a sham.”
But Blaine shakes his head. “Let me quote something. By the laws of the Wizards Guild, and the International Code of Magic, as you well know, Piper: ‘Any promises or agreements made under magical enchantment are void or subject to renegotiation.’”
“Your point is?” Piper asks.
“His point is: do you seek renegotiation?” says Connor.
Piper shakes his head. “I’m tired of this. I have other battles to fight.”
“Then you release your claim?” Blaine asks.