Much Ado About Magic
“Do you know why they set you up in business?” I asked.
“To make money. Duh.”
“But have you made money?” Owen asked. “You’ve had a lot of expenses, setting up those retail locations and buying actual advertising space instead of just using illusion. What were sales like?”
“Those ads were really cool, weren’t they? And they all have my picture, so I’m famous!”
Before Owen could blow a gasket at yet another digression, I hurried to ask, “But did they work? Did you have a lot of customers?”
Idris shrugged. “I don’t know. I just developed the spells.” He turned to Owen. “I mean, do you know how much money each of the spells you come up with makes?”
“I keep spreadsheets,” Owen said dryly. “I also think about what might happen if people actually use the spells.”
“Back to the why question,” I said, “there has to be a reason for Spellworks beyond the money. If it was just money, it wouldn’t have been this secretive.”
“I was just trying to come up with spells that MSI didn’t have, and that leaves a pretty limited range, let me tell you,” Idris said with a weary sigh. “I was stuck with the things you aren’t willing to do, and I figured there had to be someone who’d want something like that, but couldn’t find it. And, generally, the people who want something like that aren’t smart enough to come up with it on their own.”
That almost made sense—which was a change for Idris. It sounded like he didn’t know Spellworks had changed its focus to protective spells. I took another approach. “Surely you’ve tried to guess who was behind it all,” I said, leaning forward and dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I mean, someone as clever as you are must have some idea, even if you don’t know for sure.”
I expected him to puff his chest out with pride, sit up straighter, or otherwise react to my compliment, but instead he went deathly pale and shrank into his chair. “No, no, I have no idea,” he muttered, shaking his head back and forth.
“Not even a teeny little guess?”
“No!” he shouted.
I glanced at Owen and saw that a little crease had formed between his eyes. He chewed his lower lip for a moment, then said softly, “We can’t protect you from him if we don’t know who it is.” Idris just sat and shuddered. “Or I suppose we could turn you loose since you don’t seem to know anything,” Owen added with a shrug.
Idris came halfway out of his chair. “No! Not that! I’ve failed. And I don’t think they need me anymore. They’ve got the spells already, and I don’t think it’s about the spells.”
Owen and I exchanged a glance of triumph. Finally, a slip.
“What is it about, then?” Owen asked.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did,” I said.
“I didn’t mean it.”
“What are you so afraid of?” I asked. “And why did you agree to work for someone who scared you that badly?”
Idris resumed his usual arrogant posture—part nonchalance and part smug superiority. “Who said I was afraid? You’re the ones who are afraid. You’re afraid of my spells. That’s what all this is about, isn’t it, Palmer? You couldn’t stand the competition when I worked here, so you got rid of me, and now you can’t stand the competition so you try to make it seem like it’s illegal. But the truth is, it’s time we got past the days of having a monopoly in the magical world.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” I said to Owen.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. This has been a waste of time. Want to get some lunch?”
“Lunch sounds good.” Without even acknowledging Idris, we got up and left the interrogation chamber. Once we were in the observation room, I glanced at the window and saw that Idris had gone pale and was back to fidgeting.
Owen also looked at Idris through the window. “I’m starting to suspect that the whole thing—him surrendering and all—was just a ploy to drive me stark, raving mad,” he said. “And I think it’s working. We talked to him for, what, ten minutes? That was enough to make me have violent fantasies—and I’m not a violent person.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” I said, keeping my voice calm and soothing. A really powerful wizard was the last person you wanted having violent fantasies. “This was actually pretty focused, for him. He might not know as much as we think he does.”