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“Now, lights out, please,” Owen said, and Ethan hit the light switch, plunging the room into near darkness, the only light coming from around the edges of the heavy curtains.
I realized I was holding my breath while I waited for them to begin, but the room was so silent that breathing might have been disruptive. Merlin started the chanting, and in that moment I fully realized exactly who he was. I knew, intellectually, and I’d even seen him do some awesome things. But as he said words that sounded incredibly ancient, that were probably even in his native language, I got the full force of the fact that this was the greatest wizard who’d ever lived and a man who was more linked to some nearly forgotten time than he was to today.
Then Owen joined him, and the sight of him being serious and actually working at the magic made my pulse race. He was usually so casual about magic. It was something he did with a muttered word and a careless flip of his wrist. If he was focusing this intently, this had to be big stuff.
While they chanted, the candles spontaneously lit, one after another. Soon, the room took on a sweet, spicy smell as the herbs smoldered. The candlelight reflecting off Owen’s glasses kept me from seeing his eyes, making him look darker and more mysterious. I might occasionally have joked about my boyfriend the wizard, but I got the full sense of what that meant as I felt the power in the room swell. I took another involuntary step away from the bed.
Owen placed the compass on the map and passed a hand over it. I couldn’t see from where I stood what had happened, but my guess was that he’d aligned the compass with the map, disconnecting it from the actual orientation. I blinked as my eyes watered from the smell of the smoldering herbs, and I started to feel woozy.
After another round of chanting, Owen opened the container of body glitter, poured it into his palm, and then scattered it onto the map. Merlin and Owen then joined their chants and there was a flash of light as the candles and burning herbs flared. When the flash reflected in the mirrors all around and over the bed, it was nearly as bright as if we’d turned the lights on. Then the candles dimmed, going lower than they’d been earlier, but there was another glow as the body glitter shimmered beyond the manufacturer’s wildest advertising hyperbole.
While the glitter shimmered, it also swirled around the map, twisting into curls and shapes that gradually converged onto one point. Once all the glitter had piled up there, it shot into the air, forming a familiar-looking shape before suddenly collapsing and going dim. Owen and Merlin both jerked forward, like they were grasping at something that eluded them, and then the candles died out.
Once again, I was afraid to breathe. It was Merlin who broke the spell when he reached over to pat Owen on the knee. “Owen?” he asked softly, then turned to Ethan. “Mr. Wainwright, the lights, please.”
I blinked as the lights came back on, and Owen gradually came out of his trance. He shook his head and stretched his shoulders, then said, “I thought I had him, but I lost him.”
“Lost who?” I asked.
“Someone caught us prying and tried to trace back to us,” Merlin said.
“And I almost figured out who it was,” Owen said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you get the aspirin?” I handed him the little container. “Thanks. Could you please get me some water?” I ran into the bathroom and took the paper cover off one of the glasses, filled it, and brought it back to him. He swallowed a couple of the aspirin, then said, “Doing magic like that always gives me a splitting headache.”
“Unfortunately, we were too busy evading detection and trying to determine the identity of our foe to see the result of the spell,” Merlin said. “What did you see?”
I then realized what shape that glitter had taken. “The Empire State Building.” I said.
“That’s what I saw,” Ethan agreed.
“That must be the location,” Owen said, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes and massage his temples.
“Location for what?” I asked.
“They’re transmitting a spell,” Owen said. “That’s what’s causing that illness. It’s a spell being sent out from one of the highest points in the city, affecting every magical person who isn’t protected.”
“But what kind of spell?”
“That will require more research,” Merlin said. “But at least we now know what to look for.”
They both headed to the pile of books on the table, and Ethan set about cleaning up the remnants of the spell. The air had an odd smell—a mix of sulfur, candle wax, the herbs, and that ozone-like fragrance that the air takes on after a heavy lightning storm. I figured that was what the air freshener was for and sprayed it around the room after opening a window.
Owen looked up from the book he was studying. “There’s a precedent for this spell, something nearly identical to what’s been happening,” he said.
Merlin leaned over to look at that book. “Yes, an interesting case in medieval times that almost went unnoticed because it happened during a wave of the plague.”
Owen added, “But it was far more localized, reaching only as far as a particular crystal could spread energy. Now, though, they can combine magic with technology and affect an entire city. That’s what they’re transmitting from the Empire State Building.”
“The question,” Merlin said, “is what to do about it.”
“Can you counter it?” I asked.
“There are a couple of different approaches,” Owen said, turning pink behind the dark scruff on his jaw. He took off his glasses and rubbed his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes again. “It can be done on an individual basis with a simple amulet that protects the wearer, which is probably how Spellworks—or whoever’s doing this—is protecting their people. We could get our entire company back on its feet reasonably quickly, and then we could track down the source of the spell and destroy it.”
“But I believe it would be far more efficacious to cancel the spell over the entire affected area,” Merlin said. “Our enemies likely have personal protection. That means it’s the innocents who are suffering, and we can’t hope to get the general magical populace on our side if we don’t help them in their hour of need.”
Realization dawned on me. “Ooooh. So we take credit for curing the magic flu. Nice. It might help us against Spellworks.”
“We’d deserve the credit,” Owen muttered.
