Seventeen

 

It took every ounce of will I had, but I made myself follow Roger back to our offices. I didn’t care what it took; that man was going down today.

But for that to happen, the MSI gang needed to attack before Roger went to meet up with his evil army. I didn’t know if the MSI team was still planning whatever they were going to do with Owen missing, but they needed to do it—and soon.

I just wished I had a way to warn them. How could I get a message out when I was cut off from the outside world?

The beacon, I realized. They had to be able to see where it was, and if it moved, maybe they’d see that as a signal. I gathered up the pages I’d transcribed so far that day and took them to Roger’s office. On my way out, I “accidentally” dropped my pen, and when I bent to pick it up, I snagged the beacon from the potted plant and put it in my pocket.

I wondered where the portal that took me to London was. I had a feeling it was somewhere in the hallway between the entrance and the suite of offices around Roger. I headed down the hallway to the break room for coffee, then farther down the hall to find Trish.

“You’re right, something’s fishy,” I whispered to her. “I may need you later.” Out loud, I said, “Have you checked out the spa downstairs? I was thinking about a spa day later this afternoon. My nails are a mess, and I could use a back massage.”

She nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. “Ooh, sounds wonderful. I bet I can get away a little early today.”

I returned to my office. I figured by now I’d got the attention of anyone who was watching the beacon. Just in case, I paced the perimeter of my office, drawing a circle. I didn’t know how high the resolution was, but it was the only way I could think of to convey urgency.

Satisfied that I’d done what I could do, I picked up a sheet of transcription that I’d deliberately left behind and headed back to Roger’s office. On my way in, I dropped the beacon back in the potted plant. “Sorry, I forgot this page,” I said, placing it on his desk.

“Thank you,” he said, so graciously that it was hard to reconcile him with the man I’d watched earlier that day be willing to send innocent kids to their deaths just to test a spell. “Why don’t you take off early today? I’ve got some stuff going on, and I won’t need you.”

“I was just thinking about booking some spa time,” I said. “All this bending over an old book is killing my back.”

“Yes, you should definitely do that. I wouldn’t want you to end up with back problems. You’re too valuable to me.”

I felt sick smiling at him, and even sicker at the thought that I’d facilitated any of his evil, even if it had been in the service of stopping him for good.

I hurried back to my office because I didn’t want to be there when the raid happened. Would the raid happen? Had I done enough? The only other thing I could think of was calling Minerva or Rod. If they were supposedly working for the Collegium—or for Roger—then I might have a legitimate reason to call them from the office, and the call might get through.

I scrolled through the menu of recent calls on my phone, looking for the time I’d called Minerva to arrange the session with Roger. Finding it, I hit the “recall” button and held my breath, hoping it would go through.

It seemed to take forever, perhaps because the call was traveling such a distance, or perhaps because of perception. Every second was stretching out to hours for me today. I couldn’t help but gasp when I heard ringing. It was going through.

Or was it? I didn’t recognize the voice that answered. “Please state the purpose of your unscheduled call,” it said.

“Setting an appointment with an outside consultant,” I said briskly, hoping my voice didn’t tremble too badly.

“One moment.”

I silently prayed that the “one moment” meant the call was being put through, not that it was being checked with my supervisor. After another seemingly eternal wait, I heard ringing again.

“Why, Katie, this is a surprise,” Minerva’s voice said, and I sagged with relief when I heard it. “Let me guess, your friend needs another consultation. I don’t think it’s going to help much.”

“It could make a big difference if it happens NOW,” I said, putting all the emphasis I could on the word. She was a psychic, so I hoped she detected all the vibes around it.

“I’ll have to check my schedule and get back to you,” she said, and her voice sounded so light and casual that I wasn’t sure if she’d picked up on the message or if she was just doing a really good job of playing it so cool that nobody listening in would suspect a thing. “Would sometime in the next half hour be good?”

Okay, that sounded like she’d picked up on it. “That would be fine, but much later than that would be too late because there are other plans.”

“Just hang tight, and I’ll get back to you.”

I disconnected the call, put the phone down, and rubbed my sweaty palms against my skirt. Now, should I stay up here and wait for the raid, or should I go down and revive some frogs to give us more troops on the inside? If I timed this wrong, it could go very badly.

My phone rang, making me jump, and I saw Minerva’s number. “This afternoon is good, probably in about ten minutes,” she said.

That meant it was time. I found the copies I’d made of the internal key spell and put them in my jacket pocket, then opened my desk drawer to find the small case of toiletries the company provided, since we weren’t allowed to bring in anything of our own. I pocketed the tube of lip balm—I wasn’t kissing frogs bare-lipped—and headed straight to Trish’s office. “Grab your lip balm, it’s frog-kissing time,” I told her softly.

She opened her drawer and pulled out her tube, which she brandished defiantly. Together, we headed for the elevators down to the spa. As we rode in the glass elevator, I couldn’t help but look up in the atrium toward the level where our offices were. How would I know that the raid had happened or that it was successful?

We reached the frog pond, and Trish eyed the frogs warily. “So, we just, um, kiss them?”

“It doesn’t have to be on the lips,” I said, popping open my lip balm and giving myself a couple of coats.

With a shrug, she did the same. I bent to pick up the first frog that came to me, hoping that, even in frog form, Owen would recognize me and come straight to me. I bent to kiss it on the head, squeezing my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to look at what I was kissing.

Actually, it didn’t feel too bad—at least, not until the magic kicked in and the frog began to vibrate. I dropped it quickly, and it hung in mid-air, a glowing nimbus surrounding it.

“Oh, my God,” Trish breathed.

“Yes, it works, now hurry, because someone’s bound to notice it soon.”

With a shrug, she picked up a frog and, grimacing, gave it a quick peck, with a similar result.

I grabbed the next frog and kissed it. As I released it, I saw that the first former frog had solidified into human form. It was Philip. “Katie! How can I thank you?” he said, coming toward me with his arms extended.

“You can grab a frog and get to kissing. I want to get as many freed as possible before they catch us.” He blinked in surprise, then seemed to notice his surroundings. Upon realizing that he wasn’t in friendly territory, he went to work.

As each frog returned to human form, we put him to work with us—and most of them were men, though Sylvia Meredith was among the first wave of frogs. A couple of frogs turned out to apparently be genuine frogs. They just squirmed out of our hands after being kissed.

But still, there was no sign of Owen. He should have been the newest frog, the one retaining the most of his human instincts. I’d have thought that he’d have come straight to me, especially once there was all the magic in the air from so many spells breaking, all at once.

When we had a critical mass of former frogs helping save the others, I took charge of setting up a defensive perimeter with some of the people. “They’ll come after us,” I warned. “Be prepared to shield yourself and fight back.” They didn’t need a lot of urging, not after what had happened to them. I didn’t know who these people were and whether I would have sided with them or even associated with them in other circumstances, but for now, we were all allies.

The first attack came from the spa. A white-coated technician came running out. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Liberation!” Trish shouted defiantly, pumping her fist in the air. The former frogs joined in the cry. The technician ran back toward the spa, presumably to call for help, but one of the frog people froze her with a burst of magic. I suspected it wouldn’t be too long before someone else noticed and came with reinforcements, but the more time we could buy, the better.

Now it was getting hard to find frogs, as most of them had been disenchanted. The only ones left seemed to be the real frogs, most of whom had hidden under lily pads after being kissed a few too many times.

But where was Owen? Was he back at the office, perfectly safe, and I just didn’t know because I’d been out of contact?

No, the coincidence was too unlikely. I couldn’t believe that Owen had gone missing and that Roger had at the same time taunted me about him. But hadn’t he also said something about Owen not cooperating? That must have meant that he hadn’t turned Owen into a frog right away. He must have questioned him first, and if that was the case…

I felt sick at the thought that Owen might have been tortured. Even if he wasn’t currently a frog, he might still be a prisoner somewhere in this building—or the buildings all over the world it connected to. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to learn that there was a real dungeon, in addition to the frog pond.

But I couldn’t give up on the frogs yet, not when they were still my best lead.

By this time, security forces were arriving to check out the massive frog rebellion. I let the former frogs handle it, since most of them appeared to be magical people. I felt magic flying all over the place, but I ignored it, as none of it would affect me.

I kicked off my shoes and stepped into the frog pond. It was only about knee-deep, even in the middle. “Owen, where are you?” I muttered as I waded, searching for any frogs that might still be left.

I heard a faint “ribbit” from the other side of the pond and waded in that direction. There was a waterfall that spilled into the pond from over a rock formation, with some greenery and flowers on the shore line.

All that greenery made it hard to find a frog that wasn’t coming to me. “Owen, are you here?” I called out, feeling a bit strange about talking to frogs, but then these were desperate times.

There was another faint “ribbit,” followed by a croak, and soon I spotted one lonely little frog on the shore that appeared to have been trapped with one foot caught in a grating. I wasn’t sure if it had been an accident or if this was something that had been done to him.

I bent over it, murmuring soothingly, “It’s okay, let me help.” I couldn’t seem to free the foot without hurting him, and I had a feeling it would hurt even worse if I broke the spell while his foot was still trapped.

“Philip!” I shouted across the pond, but he didn’t seem to hear me in the melee. “Okay, time for plan B,” I muttered. I tugged on the grating, lifting it to carry it and the frog with me. It was heavy, but I managed to balance it carefully on my hip. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” I told the frog, but it didn’t seem all that agitated. In fact, it seemed weak and tired. It must have been struggling to free itself all this time, and I wondered if it had been able to find food while it was trapped.

It was difficult to wade across the pond while carrying the grating, and it got harder when I came close to the bank where the former frogs were holding off the Collegium security people. I wasn’t worried about what any stray spells might do to me, but there was some risk in what they might do to the frog I both hoped and feared might be Owen. If it was Owen, he was hurt and weak. If it wasn’t, I didn’t know where he was.

When I was close enough that I thought he might be able to hear me, I tried calling for Philip again. He whirled and rushed to gallantly take the grate from me and help me out of the pond. “Thanks,” I said. “Can you do something to free this frog? I don’t think we want to turn him back into a human while he’s trapped like this.”

Philip waved his hand over the grating, and next thing I knew, I had a frog sitting in my hand. “Okay, let’s see if I can get you back to normal,” I murmured as I bent to kiss it.

The glowing that ensued told me that it had, indeed, been an enchanted frog. I held my breath, watching the nimbus around it grow and take human form, but my anticipation quickly turned into disappointment when I saw that the frog wasn’t Owen. I didn’t even recognize this man, but judging by his clothes, I got the impression that he’d been a frog for a long time. Apparently not all the enchanted frogs were set free in ponds. He held his left wrist gingerly, like he was in some pain, as he blinked at his surroundings.

Though I was disappointed, Philip’s face lit up. “Kenneth?” he said. “I don’t believe it!”

“Philip? What happened? Where are we?” the former frog said.

“That is a very long story, brother. But for the moment, we must defend ourselves.”

While it was lovely that Philip had apparently been reunited with his long-lost brother, I wanted to cry because it wasn’t Owen, but I didn’t have time for that. I had to find out what Roger had done with Owen, and doing that would require getting out of the atrium. At the moment, we were penned in. The Collegium security goons had all the exits surrounded, and while the former frogs were holding them off, it didn’t look like we could get past them. We were in a standoff.

Then, quite abruptly, the security guards turned and ran the other way, leaving only a token force. The MSI raid must have started. “Come on!” I shouted and charged at the lone guard left blocking the way to the elevators. He blinked in disbelief when he saw me coming, and then his expression turned to one of alarm when he saw the rest of the former frogs coming at him.

His shock gave one of the frogs the opening to stun him with a spell. As we congregated in front of the elevators, I passed the copies of the spell out to the frog people, saying, “Do this spell in about five minutes, and be ready to fight. It’ll take you to the head of this outfit.”

I gathered Philip, Kenneth—who wouldn’t be of much help in his condition but who wouldn’t leave Philip’s side—Sylvia, Trish, and a few who looked like good fighters into the next elevator that arrived and hoped they hadn’t gone into lockdown mode.

The elevator took us where I expected it would, and we ran toward Roger’s office. Fortunately, they hadn’t shut down the portals, presumably because they wanted to be able to get help to him rather than isolating him in London.

The scene in Roger’s office was rather chaotic when we arrived. He was hunkered behind his desk, popping up every so often to shoot a burst of magic at the intruders. A few security forces were ranged outside the office, but didn’t seem able to get in. I figured Merlin must have warded the room.

But the wards wouldn’t stop me. “Can you distract the security guys?” I asked my frog army.

A couple of the men looked at each other, nodded, and ran down the hall. Soon, explosions echoed from that direction, sounding like an invading force arriving. The security guards ran to deal with it, and I dropped to my hands and knees to crawl into the office.

They were all too busy to pay much attention to me, and I didn’t think Roger could see me from this angle. I made it to the shelter of his desk, where I turned to face the MSI team. Rod saw me first, and I gave him a thumbs-up and gestured toward the door. He glanced over, saw reinforcements, and motioned to Merlin, who waved at the door. I beckoned for the frog team to join us. As soon as they were inside, Merlin waved his hand at the doorway again.

The MSI team was motivated and the frogs were angry, so Roger was rather outgunned and outclassed. Even so, he seemed remarkably calm, and not even with the kind of icy stillness Owen got in a crisis. At least that was an emotional reaction. This was the absence of emotion, like he wasn’t at all alarmed that he was in danger and his plans might be destroyed. That was probably what made him so hard to fight. He wasn’t dismayed enough to give up. He just kept going.

He wasn’t fighting so much as defending, it seemed. He’d put up a pretty good magical shield around himself, so he just needed to wait them out. They didn’t dare stop attacking him, though, lest he be able to come back at them. What they needed was a spell to break up his shields or enough combined power to crack them.

That was when I noticed the terrarium in the back of his office. I’d never bothered to study it before. I’d assumed it was part of the office decor. Now I wondered if it was where he kept his most valuable prisoners. I inched my way around the desk until I was barely behind the corner adjacent to the side where Roger was. If I moved any farther, he’d see me.

There was a particularly violent burst of magic from the other side of the room, one that required Roger to do something to counter it, and I took advantage of the distraction to dive across the floor, coming up right in front of the terrarium.

There was a frog in there, one that sat staring at the view outside, with a very non-froggy look of consternation on its face. I lifted the terrarium lid and reached inside to pick up the frog.

“Hey, stop that!” Roger called out. I ignored him, knowing he’d have to resort to physical violence to hurt me, and kept the frog shielded with my body. “No, don’t!” Roger shouted, and I could hear his footsteps moving toward me.

Knowing I didn’t have much time, I gave the frog a quick kiss. Nothing happened. It was just a frog. “Damn,” I muttered, dropping the frog back in the tank. It must have been wishful thinking that made me see expression on its face.

Was there another frog in that tank? I didn’t have time to look because Roger was already upon me, grabbing my shoulders and yanking me back, away from the terrarium. I kicked at his shins, but that wasn’t very effective, since I’d left my shoes downstairs at the frog pond. I elbowed him in the gut, which got him to loosen his grip on me enough for me to worm my way free.

Meanwhile, his focus on me had given the MSI gang and the frog army an opening. I couldn’t see what they were doing because my back was to them, but I felt the tingle of strong magic being used very close by, and Roger didn’t grab me again.

I had other things to worry about, so I didn’t turn around to see what was happening, figuring that Merlin had it under control. I stood on my tiptoes so I could reach all the way into the terrarium and dig around. There had to be another frog in there.

Finally, my fingers encountered something cool and smooth at the back of the tank, under some leaves. When I touched it, it didn’t respond the way I’d have expected a frog to. It didn’t jump away or twitch. But still, it felt like a frog.

I got my fingers under it and moved my hand until the frog was resting in my open palm. It seemed awfully limp, but I was pretty sure it was still alive. When it moved one leg ever so slightly as I lifted it out of the terrarium, I heaved a huge sigh of relief.

I was afraid of what the frog’s lethargy meant if this was Owen, but I was even more afraid that it might not be him. If it wasn’t, I was out of ideas. He wasn’t in the frog pond, and if he wasn’t in Roger’s office, then where would he be?

“I swear, this is the last frog I ever want to kiss,” I muttered as I bent to brush my lips across the top of its head.

This one was definitely enchanted. It began to glow, and when I released it, it hung there in midair. I turned to see Rod, Trish, and some of the others standing by my side. “Is this…?” Rod asked, the rest of his question trailing off.

“I don’t know. I hope so,” I said, my voice plaintive. I didn’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t Owen. Almost afraid to look at the frog for fear of being disappointed again, I checked on what was happening around me. Merlin seemed to have subdued Roger, who now lay immobilized with silver chains wrapped cocoon-like around his body. The rest of the team was watching the warded doorway, where Collegium forces had the exit blocked.

With a lump in my throat, I turned back to see that the frog’s nimbus had taken the shape of a man who seemed like he could possibly be Owen—just a bit below average height and a slim frame that was solidly packed with muscle.

Finally, the glow around him faded so that we could see that it was, indeed, Owen. I cried out in joy, but my joy quickly turned to dismay when he slumped to the ground.