Mia’s eyes widened. “I can’t say either way. Wouldn’t I have the candle if I did?” she asked. “I didn’t search my room. It never occurred to me.”
“Don’t panic. Quazar may be able to tell. Magic leaves a residue that he can see or smell - I don’t quite remember which. He talks a mile a minute, and sometimes my mind wanders.”
“Ted talks like that. I’ve learned to listen. It can be irritating at times, but I know that I’m lucky to be there in that moment to listen to him.”
“He’s a lucky guy,” Wyatt said.
“Sir, we will be at Quazar’s shop in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Nordin. Mia, don’t let Quazar read you,” Wyatt warned.
“I won’t. Why?”
“He could gather information that could destroy a lot of beings.”
“Like the demon with no name did.”
“Yes. I’d rather not burden him with the temptation.”
“I agree.”
“Let me talk. The less you say, the less he learns.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir, we have arrived.”
Mia looked out the window and recognized one of the shops next to Quazar’s. It was a bookstore she had visited with Cid and Dieter. “I assumed Quazar was a fallen, but was he a gargoyle?”
“Why do you ask?”
“This is Gargoyle Row, or it will be. That bookshop is familiar to me.”
“Mia, you never cease to amaze me. Where do you think gargoyles came from?”
“I never really thought about it. I was under the assumption they were on the side of good. That they originally were carved of stone and were placed on buildings to protect the people inside from evil.”
“That is an excellent example of good PR. Gargoyles are specialists in balancing, Mia. They are fence-sitters just like you.”
“And Quazar?”
“I’ll let you decide what he is for yourself,” Wyatt said. “But please remember, Quazar is a wheeler-dealer…”
“Does he trade in favors?” Mia asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry, Wyatt, I’ve dealt with his kind before. You see, I knew a guy who knew a guy…”
Chapter Five
Mia walked beside Wyatt, offering her shoulder for him to steady himself with. “Think of me as an elaborate walking stick,” she said.
“I curse this old body, but it has served me well,” he said, placing his hand on the offered shoulder.
They moved across the busy sidewalk to the front of the building. Wyatt opened the door and walked in, drawing Mia behind him for her protection before he entered.
“Welcome!” boomed a happy voice. “Welcome to Quazar’s Magic Shop. The proprietor will be with you in a moment.”
Wyatt and Mia looked around for the owner of the voice. The front of the shop contained several small display tables, deep high shelves, and glass-topped counters, but nothing else.
Ventriloquist dummies sat slumped in chairs waiting for someone to animate them. Mia didn’t like their creepy smiles. Anything that contained a fixed smile unnerved her. It was as if a lie was frozen and kept displayed on the wooden faces. A lie that said, “I love having an arm shoved up my back and words put in my mouth.”
Mia felt someone try to slide into her mind house. She rejected entry and hissed at Wyatt, “There’s a mind reader here.”
“Thanks for the warning. I can’t be mind-read unless I open the channel,” Wyatt said. “Can you read the reader?”
“No, he or she is too strong. The only way I was able to sense the invasion is that the reader has been in my mind before.”
“Someone has left a calling card, eh?” Wyatt said.
“I don’t know who yet,” Mia admitted. “I just know it wasn’t the first time.”
There was a disturbance of two men arguing before the curtain at the back of the shop was pulled back and a wingless gargoyle, wearing the façade of a striking man of indeterminate age, strode into the room.
He was followed by a young Gerald Shem.
“He’s my mind reader,” Mia said barely above a whisper.
Gerald stared at Mia, his dark Haitian eyes trying to place her. Mia stared back. He was a beautiful man. Why her aunt hadn’t fallen in love with him was a crime. Here was a powerful man who loved without question. Mia sent a message to him silently, “I’m Beverly’s niece.”
“Have you been brought here against your will?” he asked back.
“No. I came for your help.”
Quazar had reached Wyatt and stopped. He gave the demon a slight bow. “Wyatt, it’s good to see you.”
“I see that you’re well. The child can see through your façade if you want to save energy,” Wyatt informed him.
Quazar dropped the glamour, and Mia smiled at the cat-faced gargoyle. He stood a good six feet tall. He was garbed in a voluminous navy-blue caftan, his waist cinched in by a gold rope. “Gerald, this is an old friend of mine Wyatt Wayne. Wyatt, Gerald is my protégé.”
“Gerald,” Wyatt acknowledged. “Gentlemen, this is Mia, a friend of mine who has need of your counsel.”
“Intriguing,” Quazar said. “Come into the back room where we can be more comfortable.”
Gerald lifted and held the curtain back while his mentor, Wyatt, and Mia passed through the doorway. He followed them in, shutting the curtain behind them.
Mia moved in stunned silence. She didn’t know exactly what to expect as she walked out of the twentieth-century shop into a neo-Gothic style library. The richness of the furnishings paled in comparison to the gilded books sitting on the shelves. Everything in the room seemed to be framed with carved glossy woods. Quazar sat down in a large
