That was the moment I realized I would need to get into better shape to do my job. Maybe eat fewer tacos. It was ridiculous to be so out of shape at twenty-two.
“Any idea which office?” Sebille asked Alice.
Alice lifted her hands, palms pointed toward the ceiling, and her eyes glowed silver again. A beat later, she seemed to shake herself out of her daze. “The door at the end of the hall.”
We hurried toward the door she’d indicated, finding it locked. With a sigh, Sebille popped small again and shoved her way through a mail slot in the door. A beat later the lock turned, and she let us into what looked like the offices of an executive.
The small front room had appealing hardwood flooring in a weathered gray. A round, burgundy rug dominated the center of the space, and black leather bucket chairs were arranged along the walls.
The portrait hanging on the wall above a shiny gray receptionist’s desk was of a distinguished-looking gnome, whose long, pointed beard and bushy eyebrows were pure white. The nose above a pair of flowing mustaches was round and red, and the cheeks were a healthy pink color.
The small blue eyes sparkled, making the gnome look harmless and friendly. But the cruel slash of lips told me that was a ruse. I moved close to the painting and examined the brass plate centered on the bottom section of the heavy wood frame. It read, Gerrard Gnomish Senior.
I glanced at Sebille, who’d come up beside me. “This is the owner of the company?”
She shrugged. “Who knows. Those guys all look the same to me.”
She wasn’t wrong. Though I had a feeling the man in the painting wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment. He looked very proud of himself.
“It’s down here,” Alice said, pointing down a short hallway. We passed a door with a bubbled glass window, noting the darkness behind the glass. I read the nameplate on the door and realized it belonged to Mr. Gnomish himself. Or maybe it was Junior Gnomish. If there was a Junior.
Squelching the desire to open the door and peek inside, I hurried after Alice. Sebille stayed behind, her gaze sliding suspiciously toward the door. “Hurry up,” she told us. “I have a bad feeling about this place.”
Alice stopped in front of a second door, one without any glass, and grabbed the handle. She yanked it open without hesitation. For a single heartbeat, nothing happened. Silence throbbed down the hall and Alice stood staring into the space she’d exposed, her eyes alight with silvery energy.
Then everything happened at once.
The lights in the office snapped on, filling every nook with eye-stinging light.
As if she hadn’t noticed the light, Alice reached through the door.
That red light we’d seen downstairs flared again, brief and uneventful.
“Found it,” Alice chirped happily.
Then the lights snapped off, leaving us light-blind as the walls around us seemed to boil with energy.
I started backing away from the door where Alice stood, holding the familiar suitcase. “We need to go,” I told her, fear throbbing in my voice.
She turned to look at me, her face an amorphous blur to my light-blind eyes. I was pretty sure she nodded.
And then something shot out of the place where she’d found the suitcase. There was a roar and Alice sailed backward, smacking hard against the wall across from the door. A soft click sounded above my head and I glanced up. Mistake. Big mistake. A thunderous stream of water roared down on me, hitting me with the force of a baseball bat and sending me to the floor. The water pounded against my skin, bashing my head against the hard floor every time I tried to lift it. I struggled to breathe beneath its onslaught.
Oddly, there was no puddle beneath me. Instead, a sweet, flowery scent rose up to fill my senses.
I heard Sebille cry out behind me, but the water held me on the ground, relentless and painful against my skin.
Finally, the gusher shut off and I forced myself to move, though my body was battered and sore, as if I’d been pounded from head-to-toe by an angry gorilla. I pushed to my knees and looked down in surprise at the thick covering of flower petals across the floor.
Flowers? What in the name of the goddess’s favorite spatula was going on?
Alice groaned, the sound prolonged and filled with pain.
My gaze jerked to the spot where she huddled against the floor. The suitcase lay on its side nearby, covered in flowers.
I shoved to my feet and ran to her.
There were sounds of fighting behind us, and I knew Sebille was in trouble.
“Come on, Alice. Sebille needs help.”
She let me pull her to her feet, shoving a thick mop of hair off her face and scrubbing a hand over her dripping face. I watched in amazement as the droplets of water she shed turned to petals as they hit the floor.
She must have seen the wonder on my face and shook her head. “Garden magic. The water only attacks flesh and blood creatures. When it comes into contact with non-biologics, it turns to flora.”
A slash of green energy sliced down the hallway, exploding in a flash of light a few feet away. Alice grabbed the suitcase and we ran toward the receptionist’s lobby.
I had no idea what I was going to be seeing once we got there. The dark ahead was fractured by bursts of green and orange light. The stench of sulfur filled the air, along with the strong scent of flowers and herbs.
As we ran into the lobby, Sebille screamed, “Watch out!”
We dove to the ground as energy slashed through the air where we’d been. I scurried behind one of the chairs lining the wall, and Alice scrambled the opposite direction, diving underneath the desk as another bolt of magic tried to dissect
