Most people had a holiday, so the crowds were a little lighter than normal and we actually got seats. That meant I had a rare chance to notice the advertising that ran overhead. I blinked, then elbowed Owen. Spellworks had blanketed the entire car. He closed his eyes and groaned.

As we walked from the subway station to the office, he finally spoke to me. "I'm sorry everything's been so messed up," he said. "Every date we've tried to have, the holiday. I guess we haven't made that great a start." He gave a bitter little laugh. "In fact, I couldn't blame you at all if you decided to cut your losses because this isn't working."

"Why would I do that?" I asked. "Whatever we've run into, it's had as much to do with me as it has with you. If I dumped you and tried getting together with someone normal, things would probably be even worse." My heart suddenly felt like it had been caught in a vise. "You don't want to end this, do you?"

"No. But you know it's not going to be easy, the two of us. I don't think it will ever be easy for me because of who I am, or what I am."

"Maybe it'll be easier if we take it on together." I tried to make my voice lighter. "Besides, if you knew my dating history, you'd know nothing's been easy for me. If we go out one more time, we'll be closing in on my record for the past year or so, whether or not we run into another disaster."

Some of the weight seemed to leave his shoulders. "Okay, then, if you insist."

"I do."

It looked like Merlin had come to the realization that this was too big for our little team to deal with, for when we got to his office for the meeting, there was a room full of people (and other beings). I recognized Sam and the heads of Sales and Accounting, as well as the chief seer from Prophets and Lost, the forecasting unit. Even Owen's direct boss was there, and he almost never left his own office.

I was especially surprised to see our corporate counsel, Ethan Wainwright, there. He was a magical immune, like I was, and we'd dated very, very briefly about a month ago. It was the first time since he'd dumped me that I'd had to deal with him on a business basis. You'd think that dating Owen would have made me feel better about that, but it still stung a little. Facing an ex in a situation like that can be challenging. Do you act like nothing ever happened, or do you acknowledge the past? I went with sitting on the other side of the room and trying to avoid him unless I had a specific reason to address him.

I glanced at Owen, who sat next to me, to see if he'd reacted to Ethan being there, and then I realized that this same dilemma could apply to Owen someday. What if it didn't work out, if he was right about what he'd said earlier, if all the disasters piled up and made one of us give up? Would we one day face each other across a conference table and try to decide if we should just pretend nothing happened? It was almost as sobering a thought as the implications of what Idris had unveiled the day before.

Merlin called the meeting to order by summarizing what we'd seen on Christmas. "As Miss Chandler pointed out to me, the real concern appears to be that Mr. Idris has the funding to operate like a legitimate, high-level business."

"It gets worse," Owen said. "Katie, tell them what you saw last night."

"Was anyone watching TV last night?" I asked. I was met with a room full of blank faces. I felt like I must have been the only loser with no life, but then I remembered the sheltered magical enclave Owen was from and realized that explained a lot about the things I took for granted that others at MSI didn't get.

Then Merlin said, "Are you referring to the television commercial?"

I turned to him in shock. Merlin, of all people, was the one watching TV? Then again, that could account for his rapid adaptation to modern life. "Yes, the commercial. If he's buying TV time, it means he's got even more resources than we realized, and he's trying to reach an even broader audience. The commercials must be masked to nonmagical people because my roommates didn't notice anything odd."

"According to the commercial, Mr. Idris and his company have now opened a retail establishment," Merlin added. "I believe our first order of business should be to investigate and determine what spells he is currently selling."

"We could send someone in undercover," Mr. Lansing, Owen's boss, said. "Otherwise, I'm pretty sure most of our staff would be recognized."

Owen shook his head. "Not a good idea. It's easy enough to screen out disguises, and then it would be even more obvious what we're up to. That person would either be thrown out or given something entirely different. I'm not even sure it's good for a magical person to go in. For all we know, he's using some of his darker-influence spells on his customers to get them to buy or to make them more agreeable to him. Remember, that's why we were fighting him in the first place. The storefront and the ads may all just be a way to get more people under his influence."

I was rather impressed that he'd dared contradict his boss, but the frog-man didn't seem to mind. "So we send in an immune? A regular nonmagical person probably wouldn't even see the store or be able to enter it."

He looked straight at me when he said it. It was my turn to shake my head. "No, he knows me too well. We'd have to send someone he's never met."

All heads in the room turned toward Ethan, who also shook his head. "Sorry, no can do. I was there for our first showdown, remember? He's not likely to forget a flying tackle."

"When he was working here, he shouldn't have run into anyone from Verification too often," Owen mused. "Surely we've got someone around here we can count on to get the job done who would also be anonymous."

I remembered the group of people I'd worked with in Verification before I got my current job, and I wasn't sure we could count on any of them. People who were immune to magic saw odd things they couldn't explain, which wasn't necessarily good for their mental health. If that didn't get them, knowing that their abilities were so unique and that magical people couldn't do anything to them tended to create champion slackers. There was one person I thought might be able to get the job done, as much as I hated to admit it.

"Kim could do it," I said, even though my stomach was already churning at the thought. "She's probably the sharpest verifier we've got." I reminded myself sternly that this was for the good of the company, possibly for the good of the magical world, maybe even for the good of the entire world. When I got back to my office, I was going to have to write, "It's for the greater good," a hundred times in my day planner to make sure that sank in. Maybe then it would counter my fears that she really was taking over my job.

Merlin nodded. "Yes, she is quite efficient. Very well, we will send her to investigate."

"I'll give her a list of what she should look for," Owen said, making a note in his lab book.

"It would be interesting to learn how he's disguising his operation from the rest of the world," Merlin said. "That may be more problematic. It would appear that his veiling spells filter for anyone with magical ability, so all of us see what's really there, as do our immunes. We have no one in our employ who is nonmagical and nonimmune, and I am hesitant to bring anyone from outside in on the secret. That is a step we take only in particular circ.u.mstances, and I don't believe that curiosity about what the rest of the world sees is yet that extreme."

I was glad he'd said that, as I was probably the one in the group who knew the most so-called normal people, since Ethan had that thing for weirdness and had likely ditched his old nonmagical friends, and I really didn't want to drag my friends into this. I figured they'd eventually see something I'd have to explain, but I preferred to wait for Merlin's extreme circ.u.mstances to face that. There was one other option, though.

I didn't want to bring it up. In fact, it made me queasy even to think about it. But I couldn't come up with a way around it. "You know, you can temporarily create a nonmagical, nonimmune person," I said.

Owen's head snapped toward me. "No, I don't think so. Not a good idea."

"I got through it the last time when I had no idea what was going on and hadn't told anyone. We could do it under more controlled circ.u.mstances, with people there to watch and make sure I'm okay. Don't tell me you haven't worked out the precise formula to temporarily dim immunity." He turned red and looked away from me, which was confirmation enough. "Besides, it's not like I'd be going on any major secret mission. It would be a walk through Times Square, a look at a few subway ads, and maybe a stroll past the store. If y'all can't keep me safe for that much, then you don't stand a chance of winning this."

"But, as you just pointed out, we have other immunes on staff," Owen said.

"But none who has experienced a loss of immunity," Merlin put in. "Miss Chandler has learned to recognize the differences and even compensate for them. We might want to consider training some of the other immunes that way in the future, but for now, she is the best suited for the a.s.signment."

I turned to Owen with a smug "So, there!" look, but he didn't seem to see me. He was focused on Merlin. "But I need her!" he said, more forcibly than I'd ever heard him say much of anything. Then he seemed to realize how that sounded, and a flush crept upward from his shirt collar to his hairline. "I mean, I'll need her help a.n.a.lyzing the items we get from this Spellworks store so we can see if there's anything hidden in them. Finding out what the rest of the world sees in the advertising is surely a much lower priority."

Merlin nodded. "That much is true. Very well, we will wait before using Miss Chandler for that aspect of the investigation, but please make certain you're making decisions based on business reasons rather than your personal feelings." Owen, still blushing furiously, nodded as he kept his eyes on the table. Merlin acknowledged that with a nod of his own before continuing. "Now, those are the strategies for dealing with the potentially less-than-seemly aspects of our opponent. What can we do to face this from a business standpoint?"

Mr. Hartwell, the head of Sales, smiled his plastic smile. "Have we ever considered opening our own storefront or doing veiled advertising like that? Until now, our only way to promote ourselves has been through the products themselves, and we only recently started putting marketing messages on the packaging. Now that we appear to have real compet.i.tion that's marketing at this level, I'm not sure we can afford not to step it up a notch or two."

"Or would that be playing into his hands by legitimizing his claims?" I asked, thinking out loud. "He seems to have cast us as IBM in the IBM versus Apple saga. He's even stealing old Apple advertising slogans. His company is fresh, new, and innovative, while we're old, stodgy, and resistant to change."

"That's not entirely untrue," Minerva Felps, the head seer, muttered under her breath.

"What was the outcome of this legendary battle?" Merlin asked.

I supposed in a sense that it really was a kind of modern warfare, so I didn't bother correcting his a.s.sumption. "Both companies are still in business. IBM changed its business model, but not really because of Apple. Apple still has a limited market share. The real victor in all of this was Microsoft, which has the dominant operating system. I'm not sure any of that applies to our scenario. Oh, and as far as I know, none of those companies was literally evil, destructive, or aiming for true world domination. Well, not that anyone's been able to prove."

"How would us responding to their efforts play into their hands?" Mr. Hartwell challenged, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.

"For one thing, it would take a lot of money, and if we try to compete on that level, it could just end up hurting us without helping much. I don't see how he can sustain this level of exposure for very long unless he rakes in some serious sales. He's got to have a big source of funding."

"If the connection you believe you've observed is correct," Merlin said to me, "we may know where he's getting his funding."

Every head in the room turned to look at me. "I was at the offices of Vandermeer and Company last week, helping a friend with something, and I noticed that they had one of the creatures I usually a.s.sociate with Idris there, apparently working as some kind of bodyguard. I've seen that particular creature several times, always attacking me when I've been investigating Idris. It's possible that they're in league with Idris."

"Those Merediths never have been up to much good," Minerva Felps muttered. "I've always wondered what happened to the missing Vandermeer heir that allowed them to take over."

"He was turned into a frog, then disenchanted, and now he's dating my roommate," I answered. "But he's not a frog anymore. That's why I was at their offices. I was helping him scope out the situation so he could see about getting his family business back."

"I wonder if this is who's been pulling the strings all along," Owen mused.

Mr. Lansing spun his pen around, which was an impressive feat with frog flippers. "Possibly," he said. "Or else it's someone who saw Idris's potential."

"Minerva, have any of your people noticed anything?" Merlin asked.

"We've seen some portents, but we're still trying to a.n.a.lyze them. Things are hazy enough that I suspect we're being deliberately blocked. We may send someone to wander by the store to see if any of the signals are stronger there, and I'm planning a big meditation session tomorrow, but I don't antic.i.p.ate any earth-shattering revelations to come from it. Still, you never know."

Ethan looked over at me. "It's Philip you're talking about, the one who was enchanted?" I nodded, and he said, "Maybe I should meet with him and see what we might be able to do legally. If we can prove who he is and get him back in charge of that investment firm, maybe we can cut off Idris's funding." He frowned for a moment, then added, "I'm a.s.suming that there are magical channels for handling this sort of thing, where saying you were turned into a frog is actually a valid claim and won't land you in the loony bin."

"Yes, of course. We have to have our own ways of settling legal disputes involving magic," Mr. Hartwell said.

"Okay, then I'll look into the legal angle," Ethan said. "Fighting against evil schemers isn't my legal specialty, but it's becoming something of a hobby."

"While you guys are taking the thinkin' end of the plan, we're gonna send a few folk down to stake out the store," Sam said. "I doubt Idris'll be working the cash register himself, but you never know who you'll find popping by. There might be someone worth following. That is, if we can see past their disguise illusions. We probably shouldn't try simultaneously unveiling everyone in Times Square again." Owen turned bright red at that and became engrossed in the pattern of wood grain on the conference table.

Merlin nodded. "Very well, then. There isn't much we can do until we have more information. Tomorrow we'll send Kim to the store to obtain some samples of their merchandise, which we will then a.n.a.lyze. Based on that a.n.a.lysis we'll have a better sense of what the scheme seems to be, and we will also know how we should respond, businesswise. Now, I've asked you to give up enough of your holiday. Please feel free to enjoy the rest of your day. We will meet again in two days to discuss preliminary results."

As the meeting broke up, Owen went over to Merlin to talk, and that left me standing face-to-face with Ethan. "How's it going?" he asked, eliminating my option of pretending not to notice him.

"Pretty good," I said.

"I hear you and Owen are together now."

"Yeah."

"Good. He's a nice guy. And apparently not into chicks with wings." He glanced over his shoulder to where Trix's desk sat empty. "I guess you were right about that, after all."

It had been one of my better breakup lines, I had to admit. He'd said he thought I was a little too normal for him, and I'd accused him of really wanting to date chicks with wings. The fact that it turned out to be true made it even better. "Well, they do say I'm perceptive. And I'm glad things are working out for you."

"Thanks. No hard feelings?"

I was rather surprised to realize that there weren't any. He seemed to belong to another lifetime, even though it wasn't that long ago. "No hard feelings," I confirmed.

Owen wrapped up his business with Merlin and joined me. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Sure. You're not staying to work?"

He sighed. "What do I have to work with? I'd be tempted to drop by that store and grab a few spells to start with, but he's probably got the place specifically warded against me."

"This isn't something we're going to fix with a few hours' work, and I doubt a few hours will make much of a difference."

"Unfortunately, that's probably true. However," he glanced around to make sure none of the stragglers were in earshot, "it might not hurt to walk by that store and see what's going on."

"No, it might not."

"We might just happen to be going to lunch somewhere in that area, and if we pa.s.s the store, then we could look through the windows."

"So, lunch, then?"

He did a great job of looking utterly innocent. "Yes, lunch. Are you free?"

"I'll have to check my calendar," I replied with a coy smile.

We got our coats at his lab, then headed out, taking the subway uptown to Times Square. From there, we headed over to Fifth Avenue and walked up a block or so. I spotted the store at the right address across the avenue from us right away. It wasn't nearly as splashy or impressive as the ads would have had us believe. Instead, it was in a narrow old building that didn't seem to have seen much remodeling. Then I realized that was the way I saw it. "What does it look like to you?" I asked Owen.

He shrugged. "A store. Too much neon for my taste. The strobe light might not be such a great idea. Just looking at the store gives me a headache."

"It seems like we've found one place he's cut corners. To me, this isn't too different from those ten-dollar clothing stores downtown."

"Maybe we should get a better look," he suggested, taking my arm and heading toward the nearest crosswalk.

But then I saw someone standing on the other side of the avenue-someone wearing what looked suspiciously like a flamingo-pink 1980s prom dress with her tarnished tiara. I couldn't see the back of her dress, but I'd have bet a week's pay that there was a big bow on the b.u.t.t. Ethelinda waved her wand at me, and I immediately tugged on Owen's arm. "Let's get lunch first. Then we can catch the store on our way back."

"Okay. There are a lot of places for lunch back toward Times Square."

We hadn't made it half a block before I saw another familiar face, and this time it was someone I'd been looking for rather than someone I was trying to avoid. A fairy with curly blond hair wove her way through the crowds on the sidewalk across the street from us. I gripped Owen's arm. "Don't make any sudden moves, but Ari's across the street from us."

He kept walking but slowed his pace ever so slightly as he cast his eyes in that direction. "I don't see her, but she's probably disguised. Let's follow her and see where she goes."

"But won't she see us?"

"Two can play that game. Stick to me and she won't see a thing." With that, he reversed direction and took off. "Tell me which way she turns."

It was a challenge keeping up with Owen's brisk pace while not taking my eyes off Ari. I'd expected her to head straight to the store, but she turned in the opposite direction. I tugged on his arm to steer him the right way, feeling kind of like Rocky telling Rollo when to brake or hit the gas. "Do you think she might be heading to their secret headquarters?" I asked.

"We can only hope. Is she the one making a rude gesture at that cab she just stepped out in front of?"

"Yeah, that would be our girl."

"Okay, then, I've got her in my sights, too."

And that was a good thing, because I then spotted Ethelinda heading toward us, and it was all I could do to keep track of both of them. I wasn't sure how I could manage to avoid a fairy G.o.dmother while tracking an evil fairy. Fortunately, Ethelinda didn't seem to have much interest in contacting me. She just seemed to be following and watching, which meant she must have been able to see us. I supposed Owen was targeting his spell strictly to Ari. That made sense. You could get trampled walking down a crowded city sidewalk when you were visible. Going totally invisible would have been practically suicidal.

"Looks like she's heading to Grand Central," Owen remarked, speeding his pace.

"Maybe their secret headquarters is out of town. That would explain why we've been having trouble finding them."

"Somehow, I have trouble imagining a magic spell with 'Made in Yonkers' on the label."

"That's why it's such a brilliant hiding place."

"Okay, she's definitely going into the station." He picked up his pace, which put me at almost a run. "We'll have to get closer because it'll be easier for her to lose us in there, even if she doesn't know we're following."

And he was right. In the cavernous main concourse, there were too many people moving in too many different directions with no clear-cut pathways for it to be easy to track any one person. Fortunately, there weren't that many people with wings, which made it a little easier for me. I wasn't sure how Owen was doing it, unless he'd locked in on the sense of her magic or was using his precognitive abilities to antic.i.p.ate her moves. Meanwhile, I completely lost track of Ethelinda. Even in Grand Central Station, I should have been able to spot a fairy G.o.dmother wearing a bad 1980s prom dress.

Ari headed down one of the side pa.s.sageways that lead toward both tracks and retail shops. I'd be really annoyed if she was just going to a bookstore after we went to all that effort to follow her, but she turned in the opposite direction, which seemed to lead to train tracks. I lost sight of her for a split second, then Owen pulled my arm. "Come on, this way," he said.

"Are you sure? I thought I saw her turning the other way."

"No, she went right down toward this platform."

As he pulled me in that direction, I looked back over my shoulder, but I didn't see any wings, so I gave in and followed him. He was probably right. Except, there was no train waiting at either of the tracks along the platform we were on. "She kept on going. See, there she is ahead."

"I don't see anything." Or did I? There was a hint of movement at the far end of the platform. "Are we supposed to be down here?"

"Relax, I fixed it so n.o.body can see us. We won't get in trouble."