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Much Ado About Magic

Page 55

   



On the way back to my office, I passed Sam in the hallway. He was flying at breakneck speed, with several of the amulets dangling from his feet as an angry woman chased him. “Can’t talk now, doll,” he said as he flew by. “It’s contraband!” he shouted down the hallway at the angry woman. “You’re not gonna get the flu without it.”
I hoped the rest of the company was more cooperative about giving up the charms, or we’d be in big trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
The last few days before the conference suddenly became insanely busy. The crew creating the enchanted pavilions in the park set up the venue, then Rina took care of the decorations. I went uptown a few times to check on progress and make sure everything on the to-do list was getting done. I tried to anticipate every possible thing that could go wrong, hoping I could prevent a disaster.
“You’re sure no one nonmagical can see this?” I asked a building crew leader on one of my visits. It looked like an old-fashioned circus had set up in the middle of Central Park, and I couldn’t imagine that no one would notice.
“Not only can no one nonmagical see it,” he replied, “but no one who’s not on the guest list, either. That’s why we need to get the latest version of the guest list and keep it updated.”
“Yeah, I could see where that would be important,” I said, making a note. It would be awful if someone showed up and wasn’t able to find the place. And if anyone did wander in off the street because they saw the set-up and wondered what was going on, then we’d know we had a new magical immune to recruit. I hoped the spells were enough to keep out unauthorized bad guys, but I still suspected that the main bad guy was one of our speakers. I wondered if I could get away with “accidentally” removing Ramsay from the guest list.
The morning of the conference dawned bright and sunny, with a slight hint of a breeze and lower humidity than normal. The beautiful weather could have been a good omen, but it didn’t make me feel much better. I was afraid it only meant we’d have a pretty backdrop for the magical showdown or whatever else happened. When I got to the park, Rina was putting the finishing touches on the décor and on the welcoming breakfast. “How does it look?” she asked.
“It’s fabulous,” I told her, in all honesty. She’d really outdone herself. The assembly area looked like a forest, with the food and drink stations set up on large fallen logs or massive boulders. Magical medieval instruments hovering overhead provided a lilting soundtrack, and ethereal nymphs floated around the scene, carrying trays. I was tempted to find some little thing to mess up so that could be the worst thing that could happen and I could relax, but I knew it wouldn’t work. Whatever was going on was far bigger than Murphy’s law.
We still had about half an hour before the guests were due to arrive and I needed someone to shake me back to sanity before I snapped, so I went out to the enclosure where Owen had transported his dragons. The moment I stepped through the doorway, a voice called, “Duck!” and I did so without stopping to question why. A split second later, a gust of flame shot right through where I’d been standing. “Sorry about that,” Owen said, running over and giving me a hand up. “They’re a little jittery. I don’t know if they’ve picked up on my stage fright or if they’re still adapting to the new surroundings.”
One of the dragons gave a roar that petered out into a whimper, and then it curled up into a ball on the ground, wrapping its tail around itself. Owen raised a hand and closed his fist, and the light in the tent dimmed. That seemed to soothe the dragons. Then I took another look at Owen. He was dressed in jeans and a sooty T-shirt, not at all like he was prepared to make a presentation. “This is a new look for you,” I remarked.
He glanced down at his clothes. “Don’t worry, I’ll change before I go on, but after I spend the day with these guys, anything I’m wearing will be a mess. Did you need something?”
“I was just checking to see how things are going,” I lied, suddenly feeling foolish—not for fearing that something bad would happen, but rather for feeling like I could do anything to stop it other than make sure the conference itself went smoothly. “And it looks like we’ll want to dim the lights for the dragon show.” I made a note on my clipboard. Then I picked up on what he’d said about stage fright. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with an attack of nerves. “Are you okay about doing this?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed that the hand trembled ever so slightly. “Well, you know me and talking. I’m sure I’ll be fine when I get up there, but thinking about it gives me jitters.”