No Quest For The Wicked

“Are you okay?” he asked. I was just sitting up when I heard another rushing sound above. I ducked, crouching against the wall and protecting my head.



I heard Granny shouting the words of the spell Owen had taught her earlier for turning the antique gargoyles back to stone. But before she finished the spell, Owen shouted “Wait! Don’t! Our gargoyles are here now.” I opened my eyes and looked up to see that Sam’s reinforcements had arrived and were engaging the enemy in aerial combat just below the gallery’s soaring ceiling. They moved around so fast and were so entangled with the other gargoyles in fierce dogfights that it would have been impossible to target the spell.



A mossy gargoyle mistimed a dive and hit the floor. “Granny, you know what to do!” Owen said. She shouted the spell while waving her hands at the gargoyle, and it turned back to lifeless stone.



“That’s one down,” she said, brushing her hands as she smiled in satisfaction. Then she raised her head and called out, “Sam, send them my way!”



The MSI security gargoyles double-teamed the mossy attackers. One headed toward the puritans, as though going on an attack run, and got the enemy gargoyle to give chase, with another MSI gargoyle flying behind to herd the enemy past Granny so she could cast the spell. Soon, there were lifeless stone carvings interspersed among the ancient Greek statuary. I was impressed with her precision as she avoided hitting any of the artwork—or any of us—with the falling gargoyles.



“It’s too bad we aren’t in the medieval art department,” Rod said as he surveyed the gallery. “These don’t look right here.”



“I wonder if that’s where they came from,” I said. “The curators are going to wonder how they escaped.” That made me think of something. “Hey, where are the security guards? You’d think that with the museum having an event and all the event people traipsing in and out, they’d have guards. And you’d think they’d have noticed all this.”



“We’ll probably find them tied up, unconscious, in their underwear, if these guys are true to form,” Owen said.



The MSI gargoyles now had enough of an upper hand for us to flee. “Finish ’em off, boys,” Sam instructed before we ran out of the gallery, Sam flying above us.



We followed Rod through the Great Hall and into the medieval art exhibit—which was distinctly lacking in gargoyles or even empty spots where gargoyles should have been—and then turned into the Arms and Armor galleries. We entered a larger space, and at first I thought a medieval army was coming at us. A group of knights on horseback filled the middle of the room. When we got closer, I saw that they were just empty suits of armor made for horses and men. But then they went into motion, the armor clanking as the empty metal shells drifted across the floor, moving as though they were filled with horses and riders.



I cried out in shock, but Rod said, “Don’t worry, they’re on our side. I set this up earlier.” The knights rode to the gallery entrance and lowered their lances, blocking the way. “How’s that for medieval magic?” Rod crowed.



We ducked into a side gallery and circled up for a conference. “I doubt those are the only people they have here,” Owen said. “Not only do they want to keep us from interfering with their scheme, but they’ll have people here to make a big show of defending the world against the owner of the brooch. That’s what this whole plot is about, after all.”



“They’re setting up the gala just through there,” Rod said, pointing toward a nearby doorway. “I’ll give you a disguise illusion so you can blend in as staff. That should get you closer to Mimi and the brooch. The rest of us will split up and watch the entrances to keep out as many of the puritans as possible.” He waved his hands at Owen and me, and I tingled from the magic, but since the illusion affected the viewer and the magic didn’t work on me, I couldn’t see any difference in Owen. However I looked, I was glad that Mimi wouldn’t recognize me. Facing her while dressed as a catering waitress would be humiliating. You never want your ex-boss to think you’ve failed in your career.



We jumped at the sound of clanging metal behind us and moved to peer back into the larger hall. The magically animated knights were engaged in a fierce battle against puritan attackers. “They’ll figure out how to break my spell sooner or later, so you two had better go,” Rod said.



“Okay, then, let’s get this over with,” Owen said. It wasn’t the most rousing pep talk I’d ever heard, but it was what we were all feeling. He glanced at Granny and added, “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to stay with Rod and the others.”