No Quest For The Wicked
“A mole at MSI?” Sam asked.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I reminded him.
“I’ll look into it. Now, you get something to eat and find out what the elves and the gnomes are up to. I’ll stay in touch.” He flew away, and we headed to join the others at the diner.
They’d pushed together two tables to seat our entire group in the nearly empty restaurant. Once we’d ordered, Owen asked, “Do any of you know who those people were in the store?”
“I thought you were running from security,” Earl said with a shrug.
“Security would have done more than just lurk and follow,” Rod said.
“No, they definitely weren’t just store security,” Owen said.
“Let’s see, how many factions does that make so far?” I asked. I ticked them off on my fingers. “There’s MSI. There are the Elf Lord’s elves. There’s whatever group Earl represents. There are the gnomes.”
“We’ve got a couple of factions, too,” Thor put in.
“And, of course, there’s this mysterious fiancée,” I continued. “Plus now maybe a group of wizards.”
Our food arrived, and after devouring his hamburger, Thor said, “It’s cards on the table time. If we’re going to work together, we need to know where we’re all coming from. I’ll start.” He cleared his throat and began, his voice taking on the singsong rhythm of someone reciting a story word-for-word from memory. “Great goldmasters the gnomes have been for many generations. Thus it was that the Elf Lord sought our aid for the greatest work of all: the wedding of the Eye of the World to the Knot of Arnhold.”
“But the Knot has been lost for centuries!” Earl protested. “Sylvester didn’t have it! Lyle only saw a vision of it this morning!”
Dropping out of bard mode, Thor shrugged. “Hey, all I know is that Sylvester came to our people with these two things and wanted them physically and magically joined. Someone must have found them for him.” He cleared his throat, then continued his tale. “Though the gnomes had great skill, this task required great fortitude. The temptation would be great to seize power and invulnerability. Charms were cast and the goldsmiths worked two-by-two, no one ever alone with the gem when it was outside the box that shielded it. The most noble and upright guards kept constant watch.”
“It was treachery!” Thor shouted, shaking his fist and then pounding it on the table. The fact that he was sitting in a child’s booster seat made the gesture less intimidating than I was sure he intended. “The Elf Lord betrayed the gnomes, taking the great work without payment.”
“That would be like him,” Earl put in. “He’s beyond cheap.”
Ignoring him, Thor went on. “Our people could not stand for this. Gnomes tracked elven movements, watching for signs of the lost brooch. Seers searched the heavens.” He launched into an in-depth description of the search. It was as though he’d memorized this story and couldn’t deviate from it in any way, even if we didn’t care about these details.
Out of boredom, I picked up the newspaper that had been left on an adjacent table and skimmed the headlines of the Life and Style section. There was a review of a new television series beginning that night that sounded interesting, although I doubted I’d be home in time to watch it. I turned the page and saw the society coverage. The photo accompanying the column about a fundraiser being held that night at the Metropolitan Museum of Art stopped me cold. Every single muscle in my body tensed.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” I muttered in sheer horror.
“Katie, what is it?” Owen asked.
“I think I’ve found our future Mrs. Martin. And we’re doomed.” They all turned to stare at me, and I had to gulp a few times before I could choke out the words, “It’s Mimi.”
Chapter Seven
The others stared at me, confused. Except for Thor, who scowled. “Now you’ve made me lose my place,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, where was I …” His voice returned to the formal, singsong rhythms of his storytelling. “The brooch landed on foreign shores, and new seekers joined the quest.”
“What’s a Mimi?” Earl interrupted.
“Hey, you can talk when it’s your turn,” Thor protested, then he groaned. “And now I’ve lost my place again.”
I turned the newspaper so they could see the column. “Mimi Perkins is my ex-boss, before I joined MSI. And she’s evil. I’ve met some truly bad people in my time, and none of them were scarier than Mimi.”