chapter Twenty
I had to find the source of the music before the army-creating spell could be completed. I looked around for anyone who looked like a DJ, but there was no one doing anything so obvious as spinning records while wearing headphones. I walked as casually as I could around the balcony, searching for signs of a stereo system, computer, or anything else that might be providing the music.
When I reached the far side, I noticed that behind the portal on the lower level there was a table with electronic equipment on it. Thinking that would be my best bet, I continued around the balcony to the staircase I’d used earlier and made my way to the dance floor.
I had to dance my way across the floor again, mimicking the elves’ moves—step, kick, spin, clap hands. They were all so graceful, even while being controlled, that I felt horribly klutzy in comparison. It reminded me of the one high school dance I’d dared to go to, early in my freshman year. It had been such an awkward experience that I’d avoided dances ever since. This was a hundred times worse. At that high school dance, my friends’ lives hadn’t been at stake.
When I neared the portal, I worked my way to the edge of the room so I could get around behind it. Although this controlled dancing was ominous to watch, it was easier for me to blend with. I was slightly less awkward when I didn’t have to make up my own dance moves. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice that I was always about a beat behind.
They must not have expected any threat, since there was no guard at the sound system. I reached the table and found to my great relief that the stereo had a dock with an iPod almost identical to Jake’s, just in a different color. I wouldn’t need help making this work. I took Jake’s iPod out of my pocket and waited for the current song to end. Then, moving quickly, I removed one player from the dock, stuck the other one in, and hit “play.” The music continued with only a slightly longer-than-usual pause between songs, and no one seemed to notice the break.
Sticking the other iPod in my pocket, I hurried away from the sound system and blended back into the crowd. Jake had really outdone himself in finding songs you couldn’t help but want to dance to. Even I had no choice but to move my feet. I was so relieved to have accomplished my goal that I let myself give in to it with some exuberance. Besides, I figured getting busy on the dance floor was good for my cover.
The intense air in the room eased significantly by the end of Jake’s first song. The dancers went back to doing their own thing. By the second, some of the dancers had odd looks crossing their faces. They looked a lot like our people had when we’d broken the spell on them. The third song was a slower ballad, and everyone stopped dancing just to listen to it.
During the song, a murmur ran through the room, gradually rising in volume. The murmur grew more agitated, and then I heard someone near me say, “Where are we?”
Another asked, “What did they do to us?” There were other similar questions being asked all around me, and then I saw an elf darting for the stairs.
When he reached the balcony, he leaned over the railing and shouted, “All of you, listen to me!”
“Who are you?” someone called out.
“I am your commander, and you will do as I say.”
The army just stared at him, not snapping to attention or doing anything that looked like a response to an order. I believed the spell was well and truly broken. I edged away from the increasingly angry elves and took out my new cell phone to call Rod. “It worked!” I said.
“Great. I’ll let Sam know, and I’ll join you.”
The elf on the balcony cried out, “You’re here to fight for your people! They’ve been mistreated and exploited in this world, and you’re here to win their freedom!”
In a miracle of bad timing, Aretha Franklin’s “Think” started playing, with its “Freedom!” chorus coming through loud and clear. The mood shifted, and the elven army turned to the would-be commander. Most of them looked like they were interested in what he had to say.
“And now I think we may need a Plan B,” I said into the phone to Rod. “Propaganda seems to be working.”
“What’s the situation?” Rod asked.
“One elf is convincing the soldiers that they need to fight for the freedom of elves in this place. He said he’s their commander.”
“This situation should be right up your alley.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re director of marketing. What’s propaganda if it isn’t marketing?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
After ending the call, I crept back to the stereo and hit the “forward” button to move to the next song before Aretha could whip the army into a freedom-fighting frenzy. In a miracle that made me want to kiss Jake, the next song was the Bee Gees’ “Jive Talking,” and the combination of the harmonies, the danceable beat, and the lyrics questioning someone’s veracity shifted the room’s mood once again. The elves went back to dancing even as the commander shouted at them.
I slipped back into the middle of the crowd and said loudly enough to be heard by the people around me, “If it’s about freedom, then why did they take us against our will? They could have talked to us about freeing our brethren.” Then I ducked out of the way before anyone could notice who’d been talking. A ripple of conversation spread.
I moved to another part of the room and said, “It makes you wonder what’s really going on here. Are these people trying to free this world’s elves, or keep them from being free?” Again, I ducked out of the way and let the elves discuss that. Judging from the rise in conversation volume, I thought the seeds I’d planted must be growing.
I jumped when someone touched me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Rod. “How’s it going?” he asked.
“I seem to have stirred up a little discord.”
“That sounds like fun. I think I’ll join you.” The two of us moved through the dance floor, questioning what the commander had said or complaining about what had happened, and then moving on. Soon, the murmur of conversation was almost drowning out the music.
The commander tried to rally his troops again, but then “YMCA” came on and he lost their attention entirely. There were a few elves not joining in the dance, and I wondered if they were Sylvester’s henchmen rather than imported soldiers. Even if I succeeded in keeping the newcomers from joining the fight, our people still might have to face this world’s loyalists.
I called Sam. “We may have the situation more or less under control at the moment. I don’t think the army’s going to rally behind Sylvester’s cause, but he does have some people here. Do we have any elves who can come deal with the new guys and provide another perspective?”
“Granny rounded up a few. Now, we’re about to make a move, so get yourself someplace safe and out of the way.”
I felt a wave of magic that made me reel even if it didn’t affect me, and the dancing stopped. “Uh oh, they’re trying again,” I whispered into the phone as I hurried toward Rod, worried about how he might be affected.
“Now is the time for our glorious crusade!” the commander shouted, his voice ringing with a magical undertone.
Murmurs of “glorious crusade” echoed through the dance floor as the elves stared enraptured up at the balcony. Fortunately, Rod didn’t seem to be affected by the elven spell, but he looked as concerned as I felt. I wasn’t sure there was any disco music strong enough to counteract this magic. But then “Stayin’ Alive” came on, and most of the elves shook themselves out of the spell to dance. One benefit of most of the dancers being from another world was that none of them tried to impersonate John Travolta.
Not everyone was liberated by the music, though, and the leaders were able to line a number of soldiers up in ranks, ready to head out into our world. I didn’t know what our people had set up out there, but I hoped they were ready for it. Then I remembered that I could warn Sam, so I called him back and said, “They’re coming out. Not all of them, but enough.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, doll.”
The soldiers marched out, and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn’t long before they came flooding back into the main room, followed by MSI’s forces. There were even a few people in Council black, so Merlin must have really brought in the big guns. Waiting for the warehouse to open had allowed the MSI group to get in past the guards, who were swept up in all the confusion.
I rushed over to the stereo and turned up the volume. I didn’t recognize the next song that came on. It sounded like the kind of dance electronica that got played at nightclubs. I wouldn’t have thought the elves would be all that into it, with its lack of discernable melody, but the novelty seemed to strike them, and they were completely distracted from the fight going on between the MSI group and Sylvester’s people.
One struggle was between an MSI elf and one of the elf loyalists. Our guy must have been briefed by Sam, for he shouted, “These elves are trying to seize power over the elves of this world! They’re oppressing us, and they want to use you to help them!” Soon, some of the foreign elves had rallied to his side.
The commanders were too busy to use magic on the captives, so it was idea versus idea. Some fell in with Sylvester’s side, others joined the MSI side, and others just kept dancing. It was hard to tell how the fight was going, but I figured it was okay as long as no armies were leaving the building to go take over the world. I wasn’t even sure where they’d have gone.
I felt triumphant until I saw someone heading for the sound system. They must have realized that the soundtrack was no longer enchanted. I barely reached the sound system first and blocked it with my body. The elf tried using magic on me, to no avail. That confused him enough to buy me a little time. I hit the redial button on my new phone and shouted, “Sam! I need backup at the sound system.”
“You changed the music!” the elf accused.
“You enchanted it!” I countered. “There’s gotta be a special place in hell reserved for anyone who’d use disco for mind control to force people into an army.”
He lunged for the stereo, and I blocked him. I still had the iPod holding the enchanted music and he wouldn’t be able to re-whammy his army, but I figured if I didn’t put up a fight, he might get suspicious enough to look for the enchanted device. Besides, Jake would never forgive me if I let anything happen to his iPod.
I felt a rush of air as a small gargoyle I wasn’t familiar with swooped in and landed on top of the stereo. “Your DJ days are over, elf,” the gargoyle snarled. I dove out of the way as the gargoyle and elf launched into a magical battle, but everything the elf sent against the gargoyle bounced off an invisible barrier. Sure that the music was safe for now, I turned my attention to the dance floor and the portal.
I had to get our people back to this world—get Owen to safety. I hated to even think about what could have happened to him by now. One of the commanders had to have the key to the wards on the other side of the portal. The trick would be getting him to cooperate. I wondered if threatening to play Barry Manilow would work.
As the battle went on, sparks of magic flying through the air overhead, I started to realize that it wasn’t going our way. Some of the foreign elves were helping our people, but more of them were staying out of it or were helping Sylvester’s side, and there were more of Sylvester’s people here than I’d thought. We didn’t seem to be anywhere near subduing the fighters or getting anyone in a position to coerce them into bringing the captives home.
We were keeping them from leaving to try to take over our world, but how long could that last? If they overwhelmed us and got out, we didn’t have too many more reinforcements outside. I wasn’t even sure where they’d attack. Would they go after MSI while we were all here, or would they go after the Council? Or was it really all about controlling our world’s elves, and would the army first be used to subdue Sylvester’s opponents?
I’d done my part and it wasn’t my responsibility to manage the big picture, but at the moment I was probably the person who knew the most about what was going on—other than the ones carrying out the plan, of course. Surely there was something I’d learned in the elven realms that might be of use here. We couldn’t have gone through all that only to fail.
The portal shimmered, and a bunch of figures came through. I shouted to alert our people to the influx of more enemies, but then I recognized the first arrival and realized they were on our side, not more elven reinforcements. “Owen!” I shouted, running toward him and throwing my arms around him. “You’re safe! I was so worried.”
He held me even tighter than I was holding him. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he reassured me. “The others came to my rescue pretty quickly. Are you okay? Have you been trapped here in the middle of this battle?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I got out, and then I came back with help. It seems the elf soldiers were enchanted and brought here the way we were brought there, and I broke that spell with Jake’s iPod. You broke the wards?”
He blushed and said, “It was tricky because elven magic is a little idiosyncratic, but I figured it out eventually. By then, Mac and the others had finished their riot, so here we are.”
“It was perfect timing because we need the help. Most of these soldiers don’t really want to fight, but they don’t want to help us, either.”
More and more former captives were spilling through the portal and jumping right into the fray. It looked like a war had broken out in a discotheque. There was something incongruous about that peppy music providing the soundtrack to a battle. It was hard to tell which of the lights flashing around the warehouse were sparks of magic from the fight and which came from the disco ball spinning overhead.
I didn’t want to release Owen now that I had him again, but he slipped out of my grasp and joined the fight. I didn’t think he’d thought that through, since him doing magical battle probably wouldn’t go over very well, but his secret was soon to be out, anyway, and I doubted that anyone was paying much attention at the moment. Quite frankly, we needed all the assistance we could get, and Owen’s talent with wards was sure to help.
I was really surprised when the elf version of Florence came through the portal and approached me. “What are you doing here?” I asked her.
“My cover was blown anyway,” she said with a shrug. “Take out a few guards, and they notice. If I can’t be a double agent, I may as well openly join the resistance. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have freedom to win. When this is over, movie night?”
“Sure. But does it have to be a romantic comedy?”
She made a face. “Please, no!” And then she zapped an enemy elf who was coming at her.
I headed up to the balcony. Since I was magically useless, I thought I might be able to help by getting a bird’s-eye view. Once I got up there, though, I saw it wouldn’t do much good. Sylvester’s elves hadn’t obliged us by wearing uniforms that made it obvious which side was which, and that made it hard to track the progress of the fight. I could see Owen setting wards to divide the vast space into segments so people from one battle zone couldn’t move into another.
There was a loud noise from nearby, and I turned to see Brad the elf standing on the balcony near me, holding his arms out in an expansive gesture. At the sound, everyone below paused to look up at him. I waited to see what he’d say, but instead of speaking, he sang.
I didn’t understand the words or recognize the tune, but the elfsong was heartbreakingly lovely. I caught the eye of the little gargoyle guarding the stereo and gestured for him to shut off the music. Most of the rest of the elves joined in the song with their unearthly harmonies. I felt privileged to be allowed to hear this.
I didn’t know what Brad’s plan was, but it seemed to be working. The fighting had stopped entirely, and elves from the MSI team, from the foreign army, and even from Sylvester’s team were singing together. They were having a real “Kum-ba-ya” moment. If it hadn’t been for Owen’s wards separating the warehouse into grids, I had a feeling they’d have all been holding hands and swaying. I wondered if I should signal to Owen to drop the wards so they could do so. Then again, we didn’t want them to be able to fight again if the togetherness wore off.
The MSI non-elves moved out of the way and watched warily to see what would happen. I wondered where Sylvester was. Surely if he’d been building an army to help him solidify his power over the elves or even over the magical world he’d have been here to lead the attack. Or did he have something else planned?
Then I remembered the commander talking about this world’s elves being oppressed. An army wouldn’t be much good against an underground movement like Sylvester’s enemies. But if Sylvester created an outside threat with an attack by an army of otherworldly elves, that might rally the elves to support him. And if not otherworldly elves, then wizards just might do the trick.
I scrambled for my phone and found that someone had conveniently programmed Merlin’s number into the directory. “You may be walking into a trap,” I blurted when he answered. “I don’t think he’s using the army to actually attack his enemies. The army is playing the role of enemy, and since they’re not coming, you’ll do.”
“Interesting theory, Miss Chandler. How goes the battle?”
“One of the guys from the elf underground started a singalong, so we’re good for now. And a lot of our people got free and back through the portal. But maybe you’d better get over here instead of going after Sylvester.”
“We are already on our way, since Sylvester doesn’t appear to be at home.”
That worried me. Sylvester had proven to be rather subtle thus far—that was, when he wasn’t under the influence of an evil magical gemstone. His schemes tended to involve making other people want him to be in power so he could take on even more power. His attempt to use magic had failed when someone else used the same gizmo for a different scheme and that got the whole magical world involved. Now I was sure his contingency plans had contingency plans. He had to be up to something, and that something would likely hit us hard.
On the former dance floor below, the elf love-in was going full-force. Even though I was immune to any magic in the song, the sound still sapped all aggression out of me. I wasn’t sure I could have been mean to anyone if I’d tried. By this time, all the elves were singing, even those who’d been leading Sylvester’s forces. I glanced at Earl, who was standing next to Brad, and saw that he was smiling slightly.
Brad led the group in one more song, as though to ensure that the effect would hold. When the song ended, he let the last note linger until it faded into nothingness. Then Earl took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.
But before any sound left Earl’s throat, another voice rang throughout the warehouse. I glanced around for the source and saw Sylvester standing on the opposite side of the balcony, near the stairwell where I’d escaped and reentered.
“My fellow elves,” Sylvester boomed as I glanced back to see a scowling Earl, who hadn’t had a chance to get a word in edgewise. All the elves below turned their attention to the Elf Lord, who continued once he knew he had the crowd’s attention. “We have all been victims of a cruel scheme. Those of you from the elven realms have been brought here against your will as an invasion force. We sealed off the barriers between worlds ages ago to prevent such a thing, but now those from the other world have broken those barriers, and it seems that anyone who discovered this portal was captured and silenced. But thanks to our friends in the wizard world, we’ve stopped this invasion and freed our fellow elves from their enchantment.”
“We?” I muttered to myself. That was rich.
“Now that we’ve remembered that we are all elves, no matter where we live, I propose that our foreign friends return home and return their captives to us. Then we will seal this portal, and I vow that our forces will be extra-vigilant against this threat in the future.”
There were cheers from below, and while I was glad about the cessation of hostilities, there was something terribly wrong about how this was working out. The bad guy was supposed to be stopped and punished, not hailed as a hero and savior.
I ran down the stairs and found Owen. “What do we do?” I asked, grabbing his arm. “We’ve got to stop him.”
“Stop what?” Owen asked, giving me a perplexed look.
“He’s using the failure of his plan to carry out his plan. Now the elves are going to see the elves from the other realm as a threat, and they’ll feel like they have to support him against the common enemy. We can’t let him do that.”
“But what can we do? We didn’t find any hard evidence that Sylvester was behind it.”
“We know he was!” I argued.
“Yeah, but what do you think will happen if you say that? You’ll just give him a reason to make MSI the enemy. At least this way he has to make nice with us and pretend we’re all on the same team. That should slow him down and give us a chance to stop his next scheme before it starts.”
I wasn’t satisfied with that. The Elf Lord had ripped us out of our lives, messed with our memories, and made me date a real loser. He was not going to get away with this, not if I had anything to say about it.
“Florence!” I said suddenly.
“What about Florence?”
“Maybe she has some proof. She was one of the guards. Or she’d know someone who took direct orders from Sylvester and isn’t willing to take the fall for him.” He looked doubtful, so I squeezed his arm and said, “Please? I’m not ready to give up.”
With a sigh, he said, “Okay. I have to admit I’d rather stop him now.”
We wove our way through the rapt elves still listening to Sylvester’s campaign speech and found a scowling Florence. “That isn’t the truth, is it?” I asked her.
She quirked an eyebrow and smirked. “Seriously? You have to ask?”
“Do you have any proof? Or do you know anyone who does?”
“He came to give us a pep talk before we were sent over there to set up the prison—and before we found out that we were just as trapped as our prisoners were. But do you think me standing up there and saying that would do any good?”
“What if there’s more than one of you?” Owen asked. “Do you think any of the other guards would be willing to talk?”
She glanced around. “Give me a few minutes.” She headed off into the crowd.
While she was gone, Owen looked at me and said, “Now what? What do you have planned?”
“I don’t know. Maybe have them speak out? Even raising doubts may help keep this from being a big success for Sylvester.”
Florence returned, dragging a few other elves with her. “This is the best I could do,” she said.
“Okay, this is good,” I said, rubbing my hands together as I thought of what I could do with this. “We control the sound system. Let’s use that.”
We hurried over to where the little gargoyle still sat on the stereo. I took the enchanted iPod out of my pocket and said, “First, a tiny bit of mind control might help. When they were under the spell, all they wanted to do was dance and have fun. That might distract them from Sylvester.” I swapped out the players, then scrolled through the menu to find a song sure to get the elves’ attention.
I went with something tried and true that I’d already seen them react to. After the first few words of the enchanted extended dance mix of “I Will Survive,” most of the elves on the dance floor were singing along. When the tempo picked up, they started dancing, oblivious to anything going on around them.
Up on the balcony, Sylvester hadn’t noticed that he’d entirely lost his audience. I saw it dawn on him. He tried shouting louder, but the little gargoyle adjusted the volume, making the music even louder. Florence and her friends fell into the dancing like everyone else, and Owen took my hand and spun me around.
“You’re not under the spell, are you?” I asked him.
“No, I think it’s elf-specific. But we might as well enjoy ourselves a little.”
When the song ended, I swapped out players and put on “How Deep Is Your Love?” The elves might not have been under a literal spell, but they all swayed and sang along, creating harmonies that the Bee Gees only dreamed of. Even Sylvester seemed to get caught up in the moment.
During the song, I searched around the table and found a microphone connected to the stereo, then I figured out how to switch over to that input. I let the song fade out when it ended, turned on the microphone, and handed it to Florence. “Give it your best shot,” I whispered to her.
“All of this is a lie!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the warehouse. “The only invasion here was to support the Elf Lord. He was the one to open the portal. He was the one who created the prison in the elven realms. I was a guard there, and he was the one who gave us our assignments. He was the one having people kidnapped and sent there if they had any inkling of the plan. He was the one who stranded his own people there so no word would leak out, and he was the one kidnapping elves from the other realm and bringing them here as an army.”
She handed the microphone over to one of her colleagues, who backed up her story with an additional tale of Sylvester being present when a prisoner was sent through the portal. Soon, there was a line forming for the microphone, each elf with a story to tell.
We’d broken Sylvester’s spell on the crowd. Enough elves were listening to the testimony that I didn’t think his innocent victim act would survive. However, Sylvester wasn’t about to roll over and play dead, even as angry elves headed up the stairs toward him.
He turned to run, right toward the staircase that led to the roof.