At the very least, I wanted to keep it a little longer. I’d accept any criticisms about unprofessional behavior. Any faerie that’s ever been drawn to the sweet honey of a sleigh beggy would understand, I’m sure. This was instinct trumping reason. No faerie could easily resist the impulse to keep pure, powerful magic at their side. Those with no self-control would snatch it and try to run. Perhaps I couldn’t blame Jeffrey for doing just that.
Feeling a little guilty, I told myself the delay was temporary. Just a few hours. I’d save Jeffrey and Laura, pop that dirty old man Richard Diefenbaker right in the kisser, then give the egg back. Let the alchemists handle the alchemist. They had some sort of council; no place for a faerie like me to butt in. If one of them had made a mockery of the ancient mage Echos and tried to swipe a powerful item for himself, the other alchemists would drag him down and punish him accordingly. The egg in my bra was beating like a second heart. I could tell my own heart was beating almost as fast.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’ll get you back to your family as soon as possible. Just hang on a little longer.”
I considered going back to the office but decided this wasn’t worth bringing Larry. He was probably still trying on different jackets, or maybe he’d swung by the game store and got caught up playing a demo. Considering Larry’s priorities, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if I got home to find him with a new game and no jacket.
Now, Richard Diefenbaker. I took out my phone and dialed a number. It rang a few times, then picked up.
“Here’s looking at you, kid,” said Humphrey Bogart’s sexy voice. “Now, what sort of help does my Ilsa need?”
“No time to joke around, Baron,” I said. “You know where Richard Diefenbaker is right now?”
“The Plaza Hotel,” he said, without a second’s hesitation. “He’s been in a condo there for over a month. Spending what anyone else would consider a sizable fortune on a daily basis, but it’s pocket lint compared to his overall worth. You gonna go at him direct?”
“More or less. Can you talk to your friends in the security system there and have them let me through? I’ll handle the non-magical side myself, but I don’t wanna trip any magical security they may have.”
“Okay. Easily done, kid.”
Baron gave a satisfied chuckle. An electronic spirit with no voice or body, when he needed to talk he used voice data sampled from movies and music. Casablanca was one of his favorites, so he’d pull out the Bogart act at the slightest opportunity.
“The security spirit there evolved from a copy of myself, so it’ll be a cinch. Oh, look at that; we already worked it out. You can waltz in. Want me to slip a meeting with him onto his schedule? I’m sure his secretary will just assume she overlooked it.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. Don’t wanna make problems for anyone if I don’t have to.”
At the Plaza Hotel, there’d be lots of magical types around. The building had quite a history, and history naturally attracts magic. The few alchemists rich enough to live here wouldn’t appreciate trouble, and if they found out I was walking around with a dragon egg, all hell would break loose.
Hmm. Trouble… A distraction… “But if you could cause some sort of commotion right when I enter the building? Nothing major. Something that’ll give me a few minutes with Diefenbaker alone.”
“Your wish is my command. Is that all you require of your humble investigator?”
Crap, he’d definitely overheard that.
“That’s all for now. And, uh…I’ll make up for that other thing. I promise.”
“Lookin’ forward to it, sweetheart,” he said, in a sexy whisper. He made a kissing noise and hung up. The Baron was somewhere on the network, hiding out in a logical construct I couldn’t begin to imagine, eagerly awaiting the show I was about to provide.
There are loads of sci-fi films about AI evolving to the point where they rebel and destroy humanity. Total slander. Spirits like the Baron all love people. Or at least, they see humanity as a fascinating mass of chaos, one that produces a flood of delicious data. Just as humans don’t kill chickens that lay eggs or cows that produce milk, creatures like the Baron would never destroy the humans that provide such good lunches and hearty dinners. I imagined Baron and the other electric loa with napkins spread on their laps, metaphorical knives and forks at the ready, licking their lips in anticipation of a four-course information meal.
I hoped that smorgasbord I’d given him wiped the slate clean on the whole investigator thing! Muttering as much, I walked north on Broadway and turned right near Central Park. The Plaza Hotel was on Fifth Avenue, not far from Dean’s office.
Slipping between fast-walking New Yorkers and slow-moving tourists, I soon saw the Fifth Ave. fountain.
I passed the rows of horse-drawn carriages, went under the world flags hanging outside, and stepped into the massive lobby. My head spun from all the magical security cast on the hotel, not to mention the massive chandeliers and elegant flower arrangements. Of course, I’d seen my share of overwhelming sights in Tír na nÓg, but this hotel was…yeah. For someone like me, who straddled the line between human and faerie, this place was something special. Human and magic societies overlapped here in the realm of dreams. People came in pursuit of those dreams and left intoxicated by them. Historical incidents and the pitter-patter of human hearts piled up here, creating magic that would rival that of any great theater.
Work had brought me here any number of times, but I’d never actually gone past the lobby. I lifted my chin, made a bored New Yorker face, and fiddled with my phone. The Baron had sent a schematic of the hotel layout along with a list of current residents. Apparently, Diefenbaker was in an eye-poppingly expensive condominium on the twelfth floor overlooking Central Park.
There was a special entrance for condo owners, but one of the alchemists had cast a personal defensive spell, which meant I couldn’t use it. Oh well. I’d figure it out once I was inside. I walked through the lobby like I owned the place, navigated the flow of guests into the Oak Bar, and headed for the elevators.
The uniformed bellboy didn’t bat an eye. As soon as I’d stepped into the hotel I’d put my feet in the faerie realm, hiding myself from human eyes. Magical or unmagical, I was definitely a suspicious intruder, but at the very least no alarms went off. No security guards ran toward me. The Baron must have made arrangements.
I hopped into the elevator, following some guests dragging trunks behind them. The elevator itself was large but no bigger than your average New York apartment building. It stopped on the eighth floor. The other guests got off, so I did, too. This was the furthest the elevator went. To get higher, you needed to be either rich or famous enough to purchase a condo, your standard capitalism-based caste system.
I stopped and looked up at the ceiling. I peered through the soothing indirect lighting, white satin, and dark oak wainscoting, scoping out the floors above. I double-checked this against my phone and saw that Diefenbaker’s condo was right above me. I put my phone away, took a deep breath, and stepped further into the faerie world. The hotel corridor around me wavered like it was underwater. I kicked the floor.
Sparkly stuff streamed past me. The forest of the faerie realm overlapped with the hotel interior. Out of the corners of my eyes, I could see the dark shadows of the alchemists’ personal protection spells.
After a brief floating sensation, my feet sank into a thick plush carpet. My surroundings snapped back into focus.
I stood in the middle of a large living room decorated in dark blues and moss greens. The furniture looked imposing. Bookshelves crowded with leather bound books covered an entire wall. It didn’t look like most of these books had been read. There was a mini bar stocked with every type of liquor, a glass of red wine on the table, classy light fixtures, and a giant window that opened onto blue skies and Central Park. A man in an expensive smoking jacket sat in a large wing chair near the window, perusing some documents with an irritated look.
There was a muffled explosion, and the sound of people screaming and running around. Guess the Baron had delivered on that distraction. At the noise, Richard Diefenbaker raised his head, saw me, and looked surprised. The documents slipped out of his hand.
“Sorry for the sudden visit, Mr. Diefenbaker,” I said.
I reached behind me, felt the door, and made sure it was properly locked. Not just with a physical lock but electronic and magical locks as well. Good; it was. The Baron’s friends were helpful.
“I’m here about the jewel you recently purchased. You’re aware it wasn’t acquired through legitimate means?”
I may have bought myself some time, but there was no telling when those gangsters would return. Diefenbaker was still frozen with shock, but I’d bet he had a few security buttons on him that he’d use once he recovered.
A guarded look swept over his pale blue eyes.
“Doesn’t seem like you used legitimate means to get in here,” he said arrogantly. He tried grabbing the black iPhone at his side. “Get out before I call the—”
The iPhone fell to the floor and slid across the carpet to me. It ran around my feet like a friendly puppy. I bent down and rubbed its head, and then picked it up and stuffed it in my pocket. Diefenbaker’s hand was still frozen in the air, his eyes fixed on my pocket.
“I’ll get to the point, Mister.”
I used his shock to my advantage. I folded my arms, looking relaxed.
“I’ve been hired by the real owner to recover the jewels you illegally acquired. I’m aware you purchased them from a boy named Jeffrey Chandler for a girl named Laura Winfrey. And I know you have her imprisoned against her will.”
Diefenbaker’s mouth opened but only a weird squeak emerged.
“As I’m sure you’ve surmised, I am not involved with the police. I have no intention of doing anything to you. In fact, I already recovered the real jewels. I’m here to negotiate the release of Laura Winfrey and elicit a promise from you to do no harm to her boyfriend, Jeffrey Chandler.”
“The real… The real jewels?” Diefenbaker’s reaction was downright bizarre. His throat bobbed several times, and he said in a strangled voice, “But…but those were real! Top quality diamonds and platinum! A real opal! I’m sure of it! I had multiple appraisals done! It’s still here! Laura hasn’t even seen it yet! It’s never left my hand!”
“What?” I said, not believing my ears. I touched my chest, making sure the dragon egg was still firmly lodged in my bra.
“I obtained it from dubious sources! You think I was fool enough to not have it appraised?”