Enchanted, Inc. - Page 65/116


"There should be negative word of mouth from anyone who tried it and didn't get the results they hoped for," I said, even though it didn't sound very encouraging.

"We'll distribute this to our forces and have them be on the lookout," Merlin said.

That caught my attention. Forces? What forces? Every time I thought I knew what was going on, I learned one more detail that threw the balance off again. But before I could question that, Merlin gave me a tight smile. "I mean, our sales forces, as well as our monitoring team. We should have an idea if anyone is using this in great numbers." Somehow, I doubted that was what he meant, but I didn't press the point.

"I should get back to my office," Merlin said. "I'll send down a cordial that should help you recover."

"Thanks," Owen said. He looked and sounded better every minute, but I still thought he should be at home, in bed, bundled up in blankets and with someone bringing him chicken soup. I wasn't volunteering, no matter how tempting a picture it made.

I knew I ought to be getting back to my office, too, but I didn't want to. I wanted to know more about what was going on, and I wanted to make sure Owen would be okay. "What you need right now is some chocolate," I said once Merlin had gone. I dug around in my purse and found a square of Dove dark. "Here you go."

"I don't think this is one of those spells that chocolate is a counter to," he said.

"Chocolate makes everything better. And you could use the sugar."

"Then thank you." He unfolded the foil, then popped the chocolate in his mouth.

"You carry chocolate in your purse?" Jake asked.

"Hey, not everyone can snap their fingers or wave their hand or do whatever it is you people do when you want a snack. I never go out without an emergency supply of chocolate."

"That's a very wise policy," Owen said, giving me a smile that made my knees grow weak, no matter how hard I tried to resist him.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked him.

He took a long, deep breath that he let out as a shaky sigh. "I think so. Eventually. I don't think I'll go to the gym tonight, though. I'll just go to bed early and sleep it off."


"If it makes you feel any better, I have a headache now," Jake said, rubbing his temples. I handed him a square of chocolate.

"This is unusual, isn't it? You don't normally get all woozy when someone does a spell on you, do you?" I asked.

"Not our spells," Owen said. "We work very had to ensure there are no ill effects."

"Yeah, by the time one of our spells gets out there, we've figured out everything that could go wrong," Jake added. "Now, this kind of thing isn't too uncommon for us in this department."

"Occupational hazard," Owen said dryly, then winced. He looked like he had a headache, too.

"What would happen to a nonmagical person if someone used this spell on them?" I asked, thinking of my friends.

"Probably the same, very likely worse effects."

"I didn't keep him under long at all," Jake said. "But I'm not sure how long anyone could keep someone under, if that short amount of time makes you feel like I do now. It's a big energy drain. We try to make our spells more efficient."

Still thinking of my friends, I asked, "Is there anything anyone could do to protect themselves?"

"That's what we're working on," Owen said. He sounded tired, both from what he'd just gone through and what he had ahead of him. "It would be safest to avoid dropping anything or loaning a personal object to anyone else. We don't know how substantial the object needs to be, but obviously, a pen is enough."

I tried to think of a credible-sounding story I could tell my friends to explain why it wouldn't be a good idea to loan a pen to the stranger in line behind them at the bank.

Maybe it was time for another good anthrax scare. Or was a new strain of Ebola going around?

Unfortunately, I doubted they'd believe me unless it showed up in the news. I hoped my friends didn't run into any evil magical people who wanted to use them for nefarious activity.

"Word will spread if the spell doesn't work as well as it's supposed to, and if it gives you a killer headache when you use it, right?" I asked, hoping they'd reassure me.

"We can only hope so," Owen said. He sounded not just tired, but defeated.

"You should go home and get some rest," I told him. "In the meantime, I'd better get back to my office before Gregor wonders where I am."