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He sat next to me on the sofa and clasped his hands together over his knees. "I've never met the gentleman. It was because of him that I was brought back. But from what I understand, he was on Owen's staff. Quite brilliant, but not entirely ethical.
He'd unearthed some ancient spells and was working to modernize them, but they were dark spells, spells to use for harm. We don't allow that, so we certainly wouldn't want to market spells specifically designed to cause harm. He conducted unauthorized tests of these spells, so he was let go. Then we got word that he was continuing his work on his own and intended to provide dangerous spells to the magical community. It was one
of the biggest threats we've faced in centuries, so the board saw fit to bring me back to face it."
"Do you really think he could cause serious trouble?"
"That, we don't know. Our people haven't been tested like this for a long time, although problems have arisen every so often. I'd like to think that most folks will ignore his spells because they have no need of them. But it's also possible that this will encourage the less noble elements of society to be bolder, and that's a potential problem left over from the last time we faced a test like this. Our people removed the leadership of that challenge, but the more restive elements are still out there. I'm afraid the outcomethis time could be an all-out magical war."
I shuddered and tried to swallow the lump that had developed in my throat.
Suddenly, as a way of stopping a major magical war, my little marketing idea seemed awfully weak. If marketing was the key to saving the world, then we were in big trouble, considering the marketing people I'd worked with. I had a frightening mental image of Mimi wearing a brass bra and a helmet with horns as she faced down the rampaging hordes by flinging brochures at them. No, that would never work. I reminded myself that I was just buying time for Owen and his people to come up with a way to defeat these evil spells. I wasn't being asked to save the world.
Merlin reached over and squeezed my hand. "We are fortunate to have you with us,"
he said. "Your idea may be what saves us." Great, and just when I'd convinced myself that what I was doing wasn't such a big deal. I didn't need to be reminded of the pressure.
I fought back a groan. "I hope it works. I've never run an entire marketing campaign before. I've only been an assistant." And the campaigns I'd been involved in hadn't been particularly good. It didn't help that I knew so little about the magical community. Did they have their own media? How did they get their magical news?
They were certainly connected, but was it just gossip or was there a more organized dissemination of information? I had a lot of questions for Mr. Hartwell. I doubted Merlin was the best source for information on modern magical life. He was probably nearly as lost there as I was.
"You'll do fine," Merlin assured me. He had that same creepy confidence in his eyes that I'd seen in Owen at times, and I suspected he wasn't just trying to make me feel better. He was telling me something he knew for a fact. I wondered how that precognition thing worked, but that was a question for another time and place. I had so many questions, and it never seemed to bethe right time to ask them. For instance, there was a lot I wanted to know about Merlin, but neither of us could go into that right now.
"I'd better get back to my office," I said, handing him the cloth with the poultice on it. "Thanks for patching me up."
"It was the least I could do, given the service you've rendered us."
Only then did it really hit me that I'd actually saved the day, in more ways than one.
I'd nabbed the intruder and I'd come up with the big idea. Not bad for a day's work.
While I was still feeling confident, I made a detour by Rod's office, thinking I might as well have that talk with him now. It would minimize the amount of time I had to spend in the verification hellhole.
Isabel greeted me like a whirlwind when I entered the outer office. "Oh, you poor dear! Are you all right?" she asked, enveloping me in a suffocating hug.
"I'm fine. Or I will be. Is Rod in? I need to talk to him."
Just then Rod's office door opened and he stuck his head out. His face brightened when he saw me. "Katie! I heard about what happened. Good show!"
"Yeah, thanks. Have you got a minute?"
"Of course, come in." He ushered me into his office, shut the door, and steered me toward the big overstuffed chair I'd sat in the last time. Was it only yesterday?
"What did you need to talk about?"
"Well, the verifiers and other immunes are pretty important to you people, especially now, right?"
"Of course!"
"Then why do you have them working in such a pit? Not to mention making them have the boss who tends to turn green and grow horns when he's angry. What genius thought of putting him with the one group of people who can actually see what he's like?"
"You mean Gregor still has that anger problem? He said he got that treated."
"Anger problem? So, that's what they call it. Well, he's got it in a big way.
Fortunately, nobody seems to care much, but it still doesn't make for a pleasant working environment. What is he anyway? Angie swore he was human, but I'm not sure I believe that."
"Oh, he's human. There was a bad lab accident. He used to run Theoretical Magic until he accidentally turned himself into an ogre. I'm not sure what he was trying to do that had that particular side effect. It wasn't entirely reversible, but they were able to cure him enough so he could lead a normal life. It must not have worked as well as they thought. Owen got his job when he was transferred."
