No Quest For The Wicked

Page 64

“I can protect you from them.” I nodded to Granny as I got Mimi off the floor and guided her away from the battling elves and the gargoyles. Granny took up a defensive position, blocking the elves from following. “Now, isn’t it about time for you to get ready for the event?” I asked, keeping my voice low and calm. “I’m sure they can finish setting up, but you’ll want to do your makeup and put on your evening gown. Where do you have your stuff?”
“I already had my hair done,” she said mechanically.
“Yes, I can see that. It looks nice. But where are your clothes?”
“In the Patron’s Lounge. We’ll have to take an elevator.”
“Okay then, you’ll have to lead the way because I don’t know where that is.”
She guided me across the museum to an elevator, then directed me to the lounge, leaning heavily on me the whole time. I didn’t know quite what to make of such a vulnerable Mimi. She’d only been nice to me in the rare times when she decided to play mentor and be my best buddy. Those times had never lasted, and I had a feeling that as soon as the shock wore off, she’d not only be back to her old self, she’d be worse because she’d be embarrassed about falling apart so badly.
The lounge had a nice powder room, and her evening dress was already hanging there. “Here, let’s take your jacket off,” I said. “Then you can wash your face without getting it wet.” As biddable as a small child, she let me pull the jacket off her shoulders and guide her arms out of the sleeves. I folded the jacket carefully over my arm and told her to go use the bathroom.
While she was in the stall, I quickly switched brooches, pinning the real brooch to the inside of my skirt pocket. My heart raced as I completed the swap. After all we’d gone through, I couldn’t believe it had been this easy. Granny really had been right about catching more flies with honey. Maybe if I’d been nice to Mimi earlier, we’d be out of here by now. We could even have staged our own gargoyle invasion.
Now to find that protective box. It would make things a lot easier if I could carry the brooch without it affecting everyone around me. I draped Mimi’s jacket over the back of a chair and then dug through the bags lying on the floor, but the sound of flushing stopped me. Mimi came out of the stall, washed her hands, then splashed her face with cold water. She still looked pale and fragile, but she seemed to have a little more life in her.
“You’ll need to touch up your makeup,” I told her. “Which bag do you have your makeup kit in?” I moved as if to look for it, but she brushed me aside and got it herself.
I felt intensely aware of the brooch in my pocket while I watched her apply makeup. When she finished and took her dress into a restroom stall to change, I resumed frantically searching for the box. I still hadn’t found it when I heard the latch on the stall door and had to stop digging. Mimi came out and did a catwalk turn for my approval. “Lovely dress,” I said.
“I thought so. It was designed just for me,” she said smugly. Yep, I thought, the old Mimi was on her way back. “Now, where’s my brooch? I need to wear it tonight.”
My heart pounding madly, I took the fake from the jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Here you go,” I said. The gnomes had done an excellent job of creating a fake that was nearly indistinguishable from the original. In fact, I had a moment of panic that I’d mixed them up when making the switch, since I couldn’t feel the magical difference.
She pinned the brooch to her gown, then checked the placement in the mirror. When she frowned at her reflection, I held my breath, but she only adjusted the angle before turning to me and saying, “Does that work? It’s not too showy, is it?”
“No, it’s fine,” I lied. It was showy—rather gaudy, actually—but this wasn’t a jewel for looks. It was a jewel for power. Well, the real one was.
She patted her hair, touched up her lipstick one last time, then said, “Now I suppose I’d better get back there. The guests will be arriving soon.” She frowned, and I again held my breath, worried about why she was frowning. “You–you don’t think they’re making fun of me for that little episode, do you?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean, imagining gargoyles! How silly!”
“I’m sure they understand completely,” I said. “They know the kind of pressure you’re under.”
“Yes, of course,” she said, standing a little straighter. But she was still frowning.
It pained me to leave without the box, but we’d have to take our chances without it. I stuck close to her on the way back to the event space, hoping she wouldn’t feel the loss of the brooch as long as it was nearby.