“Well, there’s a protest going on in front and customers are leaving left and right, so obviously the conference was a huge success.”
“Customers are leaving? It’s not because of me, is it?”
“I have no idea. Merlin’s meeting with some of them—in full Merlin mode, which you really have to see. I have a feeling it has more to do with Ramsay putting the whammy on them.”
“And?”
“What?”
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Apparently, his wasn’t the only face that gave away feelings too easily. “And one of Ramsay’s reasons for joining Spellworks was the fact that MSI was harboring you—and that you were the one causing all the trouble.”
His shoulders sagged and he seemed to wilt. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Sorry. He’s a real jerk. Which is why we need to bring him down. You’re sure you don’t want to see if James and Gloria know anything?”
He shook his head. “No. And I’d better come up with a better plan, right away.” He began pulling papers together and stacking books.
“Maybe you’d think better with some food and rest,” I suggested.
“I don’t need another mother,” he snapped. “I think I’ve more than met my quota of mothers.”
I stood up and put my ball cap back on as I fought to control my temper. “Excuse me for caring about your well-being. How insensitive of me,” I said, forcing my voice not to quaver.
I made it all the way to the door before he called after me, “Sorry about that. I’m just—well, I’m not good company at the moment.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” I turned to give him a faint smile. “I’ll check on you later.”
As I headed down the stairs, it occurred to me that Owen wasn’t the only one who could talk to James and Gloria. Facing Gloria would be only slightly less scary than going alone into the dragons’ lair, but even if getting the information didn’t prove to be the key to beating Ramsay, I thought Owen needed the answers about his past before he could move forward.
Chapter Sixteen
I went home to change into some nicer clothes, fix my hair, and freshen my makeup. Gloria wasn’t the sort of person I wanted to face at anything other than my best. I checked the train schedule on Marcia’s computer, then took the subway to Grand Central and caught the Hudson line. The little town where I got off the train looked different from when I’d last seen it. I’d been there for Christmas, when there was snow on the ground. In summer, the lawns were lush and green, with brightly colored flower beds.
I hadn’t called ahead, so there was no one to meet me at the station, and there were no cabs in sight, but it wasn’t too far, just up a steep hill, so I set off walking to the home where Owen had grown up.
The town was a magical enclave, populated with magical people of all kinds, so it wasn’t odd to see fairies running errands and gnomes working in gardens. I couldn’t help but wonder what these people thought of the rumors about Owen. When I’d been here for Christmas, they’d all adored him. Did they regard him with suspicion now?
My feet had spawned a blister or two and I was slightly out of breath by the time I reached James and Gloria Eaton’s home, a brick gingerbread-like concoction on a hill over the town. The house didn’t look quite as magical as it had with an icing of snow on the peaked and turreted roof, but the flowers in the garden made up for that. I was tempted to check to see if they were made of gumdrops.
It took a few minutes after I knocked on the door before James came to open it, his elderly black dog at his side. His appearance took my breath away. He seemed to have aged a dozen years since I’d seen him last, and I’d have bet that most of that had come since yesterday. He’d already been white-haired, but his skin stretched tighter across his cheekbones, his eyes looked hollow, and his shoulders were stooped. “Katie! This is a surprise,” he said.
“I’m sorry, I probably should have called first, but I need to talk to you.”
“Yes, we should talk. Do come inside.”
James was being cordial enough, but then he was the easier of Owen’s foster parents. Gloria would be another story, I was sure. She was the only person I’d seen really able to scare Owen. There was something about her that made me want to stand at attention whenever I was near her.
That made what I saw next so shocking that I couldn’t believe my eyes. Gloria, who was tall, stiff, and quite formidable, lay slumped on the sofa, looking even older and more frail than James did. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, like she’d been crying for days. She may have scared me, but my heart went out to her.
