No Quest for the Wicked by Shanna Swendson

and said, “Katie, Perdita called and said Gemma was looking for you. She’s at work.”
    While Merlin and Owen discussed possible ways to destroy the Eye, I used Merlin’s desk phone to call Gemma. “Wow, you’ve been out of the office all morning,” she said when she answered.
    “I’m on a quest.”
    “In your line of work, I have a feeling I should take that literally.”
    “You should. What’s up?”
    “I checked the voice mail at home, and there was a call saying you need to pick up your grandmother at Penn Station.”
    “What?”
    “You weren’t expecting her?”
    I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “No. When did she call?”
    “A few hours ago.”
    “My grandmother’s been at Penn Station all morning? How did she get there?”
    “I’m guessing on a train.”
    “Very funny. But my grandmother has barely left the county. There’s no way she’d come all the way to New York without making a big production out of it. I’d have known about it weeks in advance.”
    “Hey, all I know was that there was a message from her saying she was at the station and she needed you to get her.”
    “Great. This is just what I needed,” I said with a groan. I was about to hang up when I got an idea. Gemma worked in fashion at one of the designer houses, so she might know some of the local high-rollers. “Maybe you could help me with something. There’s supposedly some big gala going on tonight, being put on by the fiancée of a financial big-wig billionaire named Jonathan Martin. She sounds like a real gold digging type—using a rich old man to buy her way into society, where she can soon enjoy a wealthy widowhood. I need to get her name.”
    “I know the type, but the name doesn’t ring a bell. I could check around, though. Where should I call if I find something?”
    “Owen’s cell.”
    “Someday you’ll have to join us in the twenty-first century and get your own cell phone.”
    “But then people could find me. Thanks a lot, Gem.”
    I got off the phone, still puzzling over what to do with Granny. She was a wizard, and if she’d chosen now to leave Texas for the first time in her life, I suspected it was because she felt there might be trouble. Had she sensed something about the Eye? Considering all the trouble I’d been through in the past year without her making the trip, that worried me. If I could get away to pick her up, I could probably leave her with Merlin while I was questing. She and Merlin got on pretty well and had a lot to talk about.
    But before I could let Owen know about needing to get Granny, the office doors blew open and a slight fog billowed around the floor. The Celtic version of elevator music tinkled in the background as three figures strode through the doorway and paused to pose against the backdrop of a golden light that couldn’t possibly have been natural, given that there was no window behind them. A wind that couldn’t have been natural, either, stirred the fog and made their cloaks billow dramatically.
    Now back to his normal self, with no trace remaining of the feebleness he’d shown earlier, Merlin gave a casual wave, and then the music, light, fog, and wind disappeared, revealing three elves who would have looked pretty ordinary if it weren’t for the pointed ears and slanted eyebrows. The billowing capes turned out to be trench coats that had been left unbuttoned and unbelted. One of the elves was Lyle, still looking like the height of eighties preppy fashion (he even had the collar of his coat turned up). The one in the middle appeared to be in charge. He had an eighties-vintage Michael Douglas look about him—slick, expensive suit, wavy hair blow-dried back from his forehead, and a firm chin. He gave the impression that he was ready to stage a corporate takeover at any minute.
    The third elf seemed like part of a “which one doesn’t belong?” exercise. He was younger than the other two—which meant he might have been only about a