Much Ado About Magic - Page 45/109


“Unfortunately, we were too busy evading detection and trying to determine the identity of our foe to see the result of the spell,” Merlin said. “What did you see?”

I then realized what shape that glitter had taken. “The Empire State Building.” I said.

“That’s what I saw,” Ethan agreed.

“That must be the location,” Owen said, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes and massage his temples.

“Location for what?” I asked.

“They’re transmitting a spell,” Owen said. “That’s what’s causing that illness. It’s a spell being sent out from one of the highest points in the city, affecting every magical person who isn’t protected.”

“But what kind of spell?”

“That will require more research,” Merlin said. “But at least we now know what to look for.”

They both headed to the pile of books on the table, and Ethan set about cleaning up the remnants of the spell. The air had an odd smell—a mix of sulfur, candle wax, the herbs, and that ozone-like fragrance that the air takes on after a heavy lightning storm. I figured that was what the air freshener was for and sprayed it around the room after opening a window.

Owen looked up from the book he was studying. “There’s a precedent for this spell, something nearly identical to what’s been happening,” he said.

Merlin leaned over to look at that book. “Yes, an interesting case in medieval times that almost went unnoticed because it happened during a wave of the plague.”

Owen added, “But it was far more localized, reaching only as far as a particular crystal could spread energy. Now, though, they can combine magic with technology and affect an entire city. That’s what they’re transmitting from the Empire State Building.”


“The question,” Merlin said, “is what to do about it.”

“Can you counter it?” I asked.

“There are a couple of different approaches,” Owen said, turning pink behind the dark scruff on his jaw. He took off his glasses and rubbed his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes again. “It can be done on an individual basis with a simple amulet that protects the wearer, which is probably how Spellworks—or whoever’s doing this—is protecting their people. We could get our entire company back on its feet reasonably quickly, and then we could track down the source of the spell and destroy it.”

“But I believe it would be far more efficacious to cancel the spell over the entire affected area,” Merlin said. “Our enemies likely have personal protection. That means it’s the innocents who are suffering, and we can’t hope to get the general magical populace on our side if we don’t help them in their hour of need.”

Realization dawned on me. “Ooooh. So we take credit for curing the magic flu. Nice. It might help us against Spellworks.”

“We’d deserve the credit,” Owen muttered.

“Well, yeah, but maybe we can beat Spellworks at their own game. If we can stop this spell for everyone before they start selling anti-flu charms, we win.”

Owen raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Now we have to find a way to cancel their spell by disabling or altering their transmission device. And we’ll have to find someone nonmagical to do it because getting that close to that kind of magic is dangerous. If it made everyone in the city sick from up there, being near it could be deadly.”

“Getting into the building and up to the top should be easy,” I said. “Gemma’s got a friend who works in the Empire State Building. She can get the special access pass, and then we could get to their transmitter without even waiting in line.”

Owen grabbed another piece of paper and started scribbling. “Then I guess we’d better get to work.”

“And you’d better do it fast, before they can get their own ‘cure’ going.”

*

Ethan and I went out to find dinner to give Owen and Merlin room to work. They might have agreed upon an approach to take, but they disagreed rather strongly about the specific methods. I didn’t understand one word in ten they said, and the magical chatter combined with the remnants of smoke from the spell had given me a headache. It was a relief to get out of the room, but I couldn’t help but cringe when I saw the motel manager staring at us through the office’s side window as we got in the car. “She’s really going to wonder about us,” I said to Ethan.

“I don’t see why,” he said calmly, giving the lady a wave as he drove away. “It’s not like a honeymoon means all that much these days. If you’ve been living together for a few years, it’s not like you’re doing anything new.”