Kiss and Spell

“But you’re back now?”



“Yeah. They didn’t get you?”



“No. I must be running out of magic for them to work with, so they didn’t seem to notice my shield spell.” Then I gasped, clutching at his arm. “Maybe that’s it. No one betrayed anyone. Did your guy use an illusion to infiltrate the gray guys?”



“Yeah, he had to, since he doesn’t look like an elf here.”



“They might have detected that and let him get away so they’d know who he was in contact with, and then they would have gone after the people they were in contact with.” And if that were the case, then they might not have Owen, since as far as I knew, no one from the elves’ faction would have spoken to him since the night before.



But then where was he?



“I’d better track down Owen,” I said to Earl, fighting to keep my voice from squeaking with tension. “You go see to any people you have around here.”



“You don’t want me to come with you?”



“Not now. I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”



Forcing down a rising tide of panic, I headed to Owen’s office. He wasn’t there. He also wasn’t at the checkout or at any of the other places I could usually find him. I ran up the stairs to the coffee shop, in case he’d gone looking for me while Earl and I were hiding in the stockroom, but I didn’t see him there. Oh no, what if they’d taken him prisoner? They might have assumed he was the resistance leader, based on his notoriety in the real world.



Florence was at the counter, and she still looked a little tense, though not as jittery as before. “How’d the meeting go?” she asked.



“I didn’t find him. He hasn’t come up here looking for me, has he?”



“Nope. Are you sure he’s in yet?”



I went over to the windows and saw him playing chess with Mac. My sigh of relief was probably audible on the store’s lower level. “I bet he lost the last game and couldn’t leave before a rematch,” I said. Forcing a smile, I added, “One of the benefits of being the boss is that no one can yell at you for being late to work.”



“Maybe you’d better go remind him that he has a store to run,” Florence said. Although she seemed to be trying to smile, her voice sounded quite stern. I felt certain now that even if she was working for Sylvester, she was secretly on my side. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have all but suggested that I go break the spell on Owen.



Forcing myself to sound like I didn’t have anything bigger to deal with than an errant boss, I said, “If you’re okay up here, I’ll go drag him back to the store and see what he wants us to do to get started for the day.”



“I’m fine,” she said with a careless flap of her hand. “Business is really slow today. Makes you wonder what’s going on, huh?”



I was afraid I knew all too well what was going on—and she did, too. But all I said was, “Be back in a sec.”



I collected Earl on my way out, in case I needed backup. I checked my pockets for my written memories, then, in a moment of paranoia, before I left the store I got out a ballpoint pen and wrote on my palm, “Check your pockets.”



“You’re worried,” Earl noted.



“I’m not taking any chances.”



When we reached the park, I paused to observe for a moment. There was none of the understated tension I was used to seeing between Owen and the Council men. Even though Mac was generally more reasonable, he had a way of keeping a constant eye on Owen. All of that was gone now. They just seemed like a group of men hanging out together in the park on a nice fall day. Owen looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in months. I almost hated to ruin it, but I knew that if he looked that relaxed, something was very wrong. I couldn’t imagine what spell would make Owen want to sit in a park and play chess all day. What if they’d wiped him completely and given him a different identity for this world, not just reset him to the guy who’d bought a bookstore to make bookstores cool again? I might not be able to break that spell with a memory or a kiss.



Gesturing for Earl to stay back, I approached their table. “Oh, there you are!” I said. I was aiming for casual, but my voice sounded high and strained. “I know they say that when the cat’s away, the mice will play, but what happens when the cat is the one away playing?”



Owen looked up at me, and for a moment I could barely breathe when his face seemed strangely blank, like he didn’t even know me. Then he smiled and blushed guiltily as his eyes focused on me. “Oh, I guess it is late. The store’s not burning down, or anything like that?”