A Logical Magician

29

Seven o’clock that evening saw Jack and the others ready for their return to the shopping mall. Cassandra slid into the driver’s seat with Jack on the passenger side. In the back seat, Simon and an unexpected guest relaxed on the thick cushions.

Shortly after dinner, Sylvester the Cat had announced he wanted to accompany them on their mission. Recognizing that the familiar’s special powers might prove useful, Jack raised no objections. He was willing to accept all the help he could get, human or not.

“Be careful,” warned Hazel, as they wedged Cassandra’s walking stick over the seats. “Von Bern is not without resources. Nor is the Huntsman a fool. It’s very possible he knows you plan to return to the mall this night. Until you know his weakness, he cannot be defeated.”

“I’m painfully aware of that fact,” replied Jack sourly.

He had spent the entire day trying to deduce the symbolism of cold steel without the least hint of success. Everything hinged on his discovering the right answer, which put enough pressure on him to make logical thought nearly impossible. Jack suspected that the truth was obvious, if he could somehow link together the correct facts. Deciding what mattered was the trick.

“Sylvester, you keep an eye on them,” continued Hazel. The cat nodded solemnly. “Drive safe.”

Cassandra stepped on the gas pedal and steered the big car onto the road. “I love this monster,” she declared, patting the dashboard. “It reminds me of my favorite war chariot. Has the same nice solid feel.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Simon.

Jack shrugged. “Same as before. You and I enter the mall, leaving Cassandra and Sylvester to guard the car. There shouldn’t be any trouble with security tonight, considering my new appearance, but to stay on the safe side, Cassandra can double park by the entrance. The two of us head over to the nymphs’ garden. April promised to meet us by the water fountain. We talk to January, learn what she heard, and leave. If we have an extra second, we buy Hazel a box of Frango Mints from Fields.”

“That doesn’t give us much time for socializing,” said Simon. “I was hoping to visit a bit with the nymphs.”

“Control your base instincts, faerie,” declared Cassandra, an edge to her voice. “There’s a proper time and place for all things, but tonight is definitely not the night for carnal pleasures.”

“I can’t help being true to my nature,” said Simon. “Like my friend Willy once said, ‘The fault, dear Cassandra, lies not in the stars, but in ourselves.’ It’s as true for supernatural as it is for humans. More so, actually.”

“You constantly refer to Shakespeare,” said Jack, seeking to stop the two from arguing. “You really knew him? In the flesh?”

“Certainly,” said Simon, sounding quite smug. “We Goodfellows were very close with the Bard of Avon.”

He raised a fist with his first and second fingers upright and pressed tightly together, “Willy and me,” he declared. “Friends forever. I taught him everything he knew about the fey folk.”

“Everything?” repeated Sylvester unexpectedly. The cat reared up on all four legs and looked Simon directly in the eyes. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Well, perhaps I exaggerated a mite,” said the changeling hastily. “Puck was on slightly better terms with Mr. Shakespeare than I.”

“Oh,” said Cassandra, chuckling. “How quickly the tune changes. Now, it’s Mr. Shakespeare. Did you really meet him, Simon? Truthfully.”

“I swear it,” said Simon. “My cousin, Robin, provided the playwright with information for several of his productions. You know the ones. Anyway, Puck took me along several times to the shows. Afterward, Shakespeare always asked us our honest opinion of the work. A true craftsman, he valued a straightforward answer. Which is what we gave him.”

“Hazel liked Shakespeare, too,” said Sylvester. “The old girl loved Macbeth. She quoted the three witches’ lines for weeks. ‘Double double, toil and trouble,’ and so on, endlessly repeated, until I started going crazy.” He rolled his green eyes. “And it takes a lot to undermine a cat’s patience.”

“Wait a minute,” said Jack. “In all the fantasy novels I read, the supernatural characters try extremely hard to stay out of the limelight. They shun famous people and never, ever interfere with human affairs. The last thing any of them want to do is attract attention. That’s not what I’m hearing from you guys.”

“That’s because we’re real and not made up,” said Simon. “Don’t make the mistake and think we hobnob with every celebrity who comes along. Or that we reveal our true nature other than to a few trustworthy souls like yourself. That would be stupid. But we enjoy mingling with the best and brightest. Your race created us with those desires. It’s in our blood. If we wanted to hide in the woods out of sight, we wouldn’t have worked so hard learning how to blend in with mankind.”

“Don’t forget that over the centuries, we’ve become experts at masquerading as normal humans,” said Cassandra. “I’ve taught six different movie stars self-defense. Simon’s studied with three Pulitzer Prize winners. None of them guessed our secret. Combine our talent with modern man’s skepticism of anything he can’t taste, touch or feel, and we’re home free. The world is filled with magic, Jack. You humans just refuse to admit it.”

“Watch the Grammy awards now that you’re able to spot auras,” said Simon. “You might be surprised.”

“Better yet,” said Sylvester, “turn on MTV.”

“Enough chatter,” said Cassandra, a hard edge back in her voice. “There’s the mall up ahead. Jack, you and Simon get ready. I’ll drop you off at the same door as yesterday. From what you told me, it’s the closest one to the nymphs’ oasis. When you’ve finished talking to Jan, return there and I’ll pick you up. If there’s any sign of trouble, I’ll send Sylvester into the mall with a warning. Got it?”

“Got it,” said Jack. He peered out the car window. “It looks pretty quiet out there.”

“The exact same words King Priam uttered while his people pulled the wooden horse into Troy,” said Cassandra.

“How cheering,” said Jack, and then they were there.

Doors opened, and he and Simon headed for the entrance to the mall. As the Buick disappeared into the darkness, Jack’s hands unconsciously clenched into fists. A premonition of impending danger raced through his mind. He had a feeling that things were not going to proceed as planned tonight. Which, on a moment’s reflection, seemed to be the story of his life lately.