Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc. #7)

Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc. #7) Page 88

I twirled around, surrounding myself with magical sparks and laughing with the joy of it. Belatedly, I realized that putting on a light show wasn’t the stealthiest thing to do under these circumstances. I killed the sparks, then conjured up a bottle of champagne and enough glasses for all of us. Owen opened the bottle and poured the champagne, and I passed out the glasses.

“A toast to the last moments of magical Katie,” I said. “It was fun while it lasted, but I think I’m ready to be my normal self again. After all, if I’d been my normal self, I’d never have ended up here.”

“To magical Katie,” Owen toasted. I noticed that he left out the “end” part.

I’d never made the telepathy spell work the right way, but I tried it now, pouring every bit of power I had into it to direct a thought to Owen’s mind. I really am okay. It’s not the same as for you, I sent.

I barely detected the slightest whisper in my mind, so faint I had to think to decipher it. You’re braver than I would be.

I didn’t have the energy to send another mental message, so I whispered to him, “I thought you’d already been that brave. Why shouldn’t I be?”

Instead of answering me directly, he said, “Try some more magic.”

I tried for the sparks, since they were the most obvious indicator of how much power I was putting out. Instead of the big showers I’d had earlier, I barely managed a few sputters at the ends of my fingers. Since that was barely visible a few feet away, I kept going until I couldn’t even generate a faint glow. “Okay, looks like I’m done,” I said.

I forced myself not to shudder. I was fine with being a magical immune, but I wasn’t looking forward to the in-between stage when I’d be like most humans—susceptible to magic, but unable to use it. I’d lost my immunity a time or two from a potion, and it had been a nightmare. I wasn’t sure how normal people survived. Being “normal” to me was as bad as the way Owen saw being immune.

“Then we should go, now,” Florence said, standing from where she’d been watching the magic-draining process. Her human appearance returned as she stood. “I think I can get you through the streets without any major guard encounters. If someone does stop us, try to act like you’re under the spell, and I’ll pretend I caught you. I’d rather not blow my cover if I can help it.”

Despite her assurance, I wasn’t happy about leaving the relatively safe harbor of the park. I associated the cityscape with being hunted and on the run. Once we were back in the city, it didn’t look any different to me, but I supposed it wouldn’t yet.

Owen took my hand in his as we walked. “I don’t know how long it will take to drain the last of the magic, so maybe I should start now,” he murmured.

“Good idea,” I replied, keeping my voice too low for the others to hear. “We won’t exactly be able to tell the portal guards to hold on a sec while we restore my magical immunity so I can get past their wards.” I shivered as I felt the tingle between our clasped hands.

Florence must have known the pattern of any patrols because we didn’t run into anyone on our way to that small park. By the time we got there, my magic levels must have been hovering around the “E” on the gauge because the buildings flickered when I looked at them out of the corner of my eye. There was still something there, but it was just a big, blank box instead of a block of picturesque brownstones.

“This place isn’t nearly as nice without the illusion,” I whispered to Owen. “It really does look like a prison.”

Then I did a double take. On top of the building across the street from the park was a row of gargoyles. I didn’t see them if I looked directly at them, but they flickered in and out of sight if I didn’t try to focus on them. I reached around and grabbed Owen’s jacket with my free hand. “Owen, they’ve got gargoyles here! Instead of trying to make them look normal and enchanting them to think they belonged here, they must have just brought them through the portal, stuck them on the nearest building, and veiled them.” I paused to think about it, then added, “Though I suppose they could have enchanted them to think they really were regular gargoyles who can’t talk or move. I know I didn’t see them when we were here before.”

He turned to look, even though he couldn’t see them. “Do you recognize any of them?”

“They’re pretty far away, and I still don’t see them if I look directly. But if we could snap them out of it, they’d be helpful in getting to that portal.”