I felt dizzy. I'd have breathed into my paper lunch sack if I didn't think it would draw unnecessary attention from my coworkers. I couldn't resist pinching my thigh under my table. Maybe I was stuck in a long, elaborately detailed dream. This sort of thing didn't happen to me, Katie Chandler. My life had been so very, very normal—boring even—up to this point. I'd managed to make even a magical job seem ordinary, with the drab verification office that was as bad as any secretarial pool I'd seen during the desperate days of temping I'd gone through when I first got to New York. Only I could turn working at Magic Inc. into a dull nine-to-five job.

They'd said repeatedly that verifiers were important to them, but what could someone like me possibly do in a situation bad enough to bring Merlin— the Merlin—out of a magical coma? I could run a small business and track the details of launching a marketing campaign. That was the extent of my skill base. If they were counting on my help, they were in bigger trouble than they realized.

After the confusion came anger. They'd left out that minor detail about the challenging situation during the hiring process. It would be like getting a job and then finding out on your second day that the company and its executives were under federal investigation, the company had just filed for bankruptcy, and its pension fund had been drained.

I needed to get to the bottom of this. I went back to the company history and flipped to the end. There were several blank pages at the back of the book. The last page with printing on it was only halfway complete. It mentioned the revival of Merlin and the challenging situation, but didn't give a lot of details. I flipped a few pages before that and was just starting to read when Gregor called my name.

"She's on lunch," Angie said before I could respond.

I ignored her and said, "Yes, Gregor?" She stuck her tongue out at me and went back to eating her lunch.

"Got a verification request for you, from R and D. They asked for you personally.

You'll be seeing Mr. Palmer."

Owen. I needed to have some words with him. I could see Rod trying to pull the wool over my eyes, but I expected more out of Owen. He'd acted so concerned about my well-being. How could he have let me take this job, knowing there was something going on, without telling me there might be trouble?

I closed my book and stood up. "I'm on my way." I noticed as I headed for the door that both Kim and Angie were glaring at me. Kim was probably jealous of me getting so close to someone whose star was clearly on the rise, while Angie envied my chance to cozy up to the hottie. I just hoped I had the chance to ask him about my discovery and get an explanation.

I was worried about how I'd get through the door once I made it to R&D, since Rod had needed a code to get through it, but the door swung open as I approached. I headed back to Owen's lair in Theoretical Magic. He wasn't in the lab where I'd seen him before. Instead, I found him in his office, which was a snug room lined with books. It looked like the study out of an old English manor house. I had a sudden craving for hot tea and a good mystery novel.

Owen sat behind the big wooden desk. Across from him sat a small, thin, nervous-looking man. Both men were intently studying a book that lay open on Owen's desk. I rapped lightly on the doorframe, and both heads turned to look at me. Owen smiled immediately. Just the tips of his ears turned red, and he was cute enough to defuse some of my anger. "Katie! Come in. Have a seat."

I entered the office and perched on the edge of the big leather chair next to Owen's guest. "What can I do for you today?" I asked.

"Katie, I'd like you to meet Wiggram Bookbinder. He's a rare book dealer who finds me most of my more esoteric resources. Wig, this is Katie Chandler, from our verification department. She's an immune."

I shook the man's hand, being careful not to squeeze too hard. His hand felt fragile, like the bones were barely held together. The man himself looked frail, swallowed by a faded black trench coat. Wisps of grizzled hair dotted his mostly bald head. There was more hair coming out of his ears than on his entire scalp. "Pleased to meet you,"

I said.

"Likewise," he replied, but his voice shook and he'd gone an ashy shade of pale. He certainly didn't look like he was pleased to meet me.

Owen folded his hands on top of his desk and said in a pleasant tone with a hint of ice behind it, "Now, Wig, is there anything you want to say to me before I ask Katie a question?"

The little man went even paler. His lips were now a ghostly shade of blue. He shook his head vigorously, causing his ear hair to flutter.