No Quest For The Wicked (Enchanted, Inc. #6)

No Quest For The Wicked (Enchanted, Inc. #6) Page 6

“No, no thank you,” the elf said, backing cautiously away from the counter, his hands clenching and unclenching. Then he turned and moved toward the elevator. Owen and I went after him. When we were out of earshot of the salesman, Owen reached to catch the elf’s arm, but before he could do so, Lyle turned to Owen. “That stone was the Eye of the Moon, wasn’t it?” he hissed.

“I believe so,” Owen admitted.

“Combined with the Knot …”

Owen nodded grimly. “Somebody just bought ultimate power and invulnerability.”

Chapter Two

I grabbed Owen’s sleeve. “Wait, so someone found this superpowerful, super-evil gem that’s been lost for centuries, and then they combined it with a brooch that makes the wearer invulnerable? Who would be so crazy?”

“We can worry about that later. For now, we need to find it.”

“Do you think whoever has it knows what they have?”

“Even if they don’t, it’ll affect them. Look at the way the sales staff is acting.” The salesman had joined the wailing saleswoman, and their sobs carried throughout the store. “They couldn’t have had it for long—definitely not long enough to use its power—and they’re acting like they’ve lost the love of their lives. Anyone who gets this thing won’t want to let it go, and that gives the stone the chance to work on them and take over. We’ve got to get it back.”

“The Knot belongs to my people,” the elf insisted.

“I’m not arguing with you there,” Owen said. “The problem is that both the Knot and the Eye are currently in the possession of someone else.”

“Who are you?” Lyle asked suspiciously.

“I’m with MSI,” Owen said.

Lyle frowned at Owen. “You’re Owen Palmer, aren’t you? Is it true?”

Owen sighed wearily. “Is what true? There are so many rumors about me going around that I like to know exactly what I’m confirming or denying. I’m not evil, if that’s what you’re wondering, and I have no plans to take over the world.”

“And yet you seek the Eye of the Moon.”

“It wouldn’t do me any good.” Owen spread his hands helplessly. “No more magic. I found the location in the Ephemera I’m translating.”

“You have no magic?” The elf quirked a slanted eyebrow.

“None whatsoever. I want to keep this thing out of the wrong hands. That’s all. I need to report this to my boss. He should know what’s happening, and then we can decide how to handle it. This could be a touchy situation.”

“You wizards won’t take our Knot from us.”

“That’s what I mean by touchy. I’m not here officially, but my boss wouldn’t want the Eye to fall into the wrong hands.”

“I don’t want the Eye in Merlin’s hands, either.”

“I don’t think he’d want it. But he will know what to do with it.”

The elf nodded again, as if in agreement, and then, moving almost too quickly for the human eye to see, he darted away and jumped into an elevator just as the doors opened. By the time we realized what he was doing and went after him, he was gone. Without magic, Owen couldn’t do anything more to summon another elevator than push the button. Lyle must have done something to magically tamper with the elevators, because it took longer than I would have expected for another one to arrive.

I thought Owen would blow a gasket. “He played me!” he sputtered. “I should have known better.”

To calm him down while we waited, I said, “He ran off without finding out who bought it. Something like that, you probably don’t pay cash. There has to be a record of the sale.”

“Yeah, but they don’t pass out customer information like that to just anyone.” He groaned. “I know how I could get it, but at the moment …” I patted him reassuringly on the arm, well aware of how much it bothered him to have lost his powers. Although he didn’t use much magic in his daily life, there had been so many little magical things he’d taken for granted.

“Those two aren’t exactly acting like your usual Tiffany employees,” I said. I went back to the counter. “Excuse me,” I called to the sobbing sales staff.

“I told you, it’s useless. It’s gone,” the salesman sobbed.

“Curse you, Jonathan Martin,” the saleswoman spat. “He’ll never love it like I did.”

“Or like I did,” the salesman said, and then they collapsed on each other in tears.