No Quest For The Wicked
Page 37

“You’re still thinkin’ mole, doll?”
“Someone has been waiting for us twice so far today, and it seems to happen whenever we check in with the office.”
As we walked down the street, I moved up alongside Earl and said, “You didn’t get to tell your story.”
He shrugged. “There’s not much. From my time at court, I knew Sylvester was eager to solidify his power. When Lyle reported that he’d found the Knot, I decided to work with you to keep it out of Sylvester’s hands. Knowing that Sylvester had the Knot all along and that he got the Eye and commissioned the brooch just verifies my suspicion that he’s pulling an elaborate power grab. I have to make sure it doesn’t work.”
“No songs or poetry in the telling?” I asked with a smile.
He grinned in return. “There’s a time and a place for that kind of thing. If I wanted to, I could tell it in a way that would make you weep—and not with boredom.” I thought he looked more like a teenager than a bard who could keep his listeners entranced, but I’d heard him sing, so I didn’t say anything.
“You don’t think Sylvester stole it himself?” Owen asked.
“No, he’s too frantic about it. He might play it cool in front of Merlin, but he went postal on Lyle when he brought him the news that it had been in a jewelry store. I believe the gnome speaks the truth.”
“So, that means we have a power-hungry Elf Lord who had this thing made as part of a secret plot, and we have the domineering bitch who owns it now,” I said. “I almost wish we could throw them into a secure room together and let them fight over it. It would be epic.”
“You don’t know Sylvester. It wouldn’t be much of a fight,” Earl said.
“You don’t know Mimi,” I replied, suppressing a shudder. “It would be the throwdown of the century.”
When we’d visited the nearest hair and nail salons on our list without finding either Mimi or a record of an appointment for her, I said, “We’re running out of time. Where are those carpets? If we don’t find her soon, we’ll have to catch her at the museum tonight.”
Sam, who’d been flying surveillance loops, returned to us and hissed, “Psst, don’t look back. Keep walkin’ casual-like.”
“What is it, Sam?” Owen asked.
“I may be gettin’ as paranoid as Katie-bug here, but I do believe you’ve picked up a tail. I mean, another one. This one’s not a bird, and it’s definitely magical.”
Earl reacted first, leaping to flatten himself into a nearby doorway as he glanced anxiously from side to side. “Relax, kid,” Sam told him. “I don’t think it’s an elf. And if it is, he’s already seen you.”
“But you’re sure it’s a wizard?” Owen asked.
“Keep walkin’. It’s harder to shake a tail who knows you’re onto him,” Sam ordered. When we’d complied, aside from Earl, who refused to move from his doorway, Sam continued. “He’s veiling himself, keeps changin’ his appearance, but I noticed the steady wave of magic comin’ after you. I don’t know which person he is in all these crowds, but there’s definitely someone there.”
“Just one?” I asked. “And he’s there now?”
“He’s good. He’s hanging back a bit—and don’t look over your shoulder.” He added this last part for Thor. Granny followed it up with a slap to the back of the gnome’s head.
“How long has he been there?” Owen asked.
“I think he picked you up at the apartment building, but it’s hard to say. He’d have to have been really good to follow you when you were flying.”
“I wonder which faction he’s with, or if we’ve got a new one,” I said. “We practically need a chart to keep track of them all. This would be easier if everyone had uniforms or matching T-shirts.”
“At least he hasn’t offered to join us,” Rod joked. “I guess we should go on with business as usual.”
“I’ve got carpets waiting for us about a block away,” Sam said.
“Should we try to lose this guy first?” I asked.
“Nah, it’ll be easier to lose him in the air.”
The back of my neck itched with the sensation that I was being watched, but I reminded myself that we weren’t doing anything particularly important at the moment. Anyone who followed us would only get a tour of some of the top salons in the city. I glanced at Owen to see what he was thinking, and his eyes had taken on an unfocused look that was far too familiar. He was deep in thought, miles away. I hooked my arm through his because when he got like that, he sometimes needed someone to keep him from walking into lampposts.