A moment later, Sam said, “I’m gonna put you in a cab, since I don’t think you’re up for a magic carpet ride right now.”

“Nope, I’m still not up for that,” I said, shuddering as I remembered my last experience with magic carpets.

“Then I’ll meet you back at the office, and we’ll talk to the boss, okay?”

“Okay,” I said meekly.

A cab pulled up a moment later, and it was only after I was safely ensconced in the back seat that I realized just how exhausted I was. I must have dozed off because it seemed like only seconds before a blast of chilly air woke me. I opened my eyes to see that the cab had stopped in front of MSI headquarters, and Merlin was holding the cab door open for me. He offered his hand to help me out.

I’d barely left the car when something struck me and held me in a viselike grasp around the waist. I started to squirm away, then realized it was my grandmother. Granny had never been much of a hugger, so this reaction told me how worried about me she was. Before I could return her hug, she released me and stepped away, her expression making it clear that this had never happened. “It’s about time you got back,” she snapped, only a slight rasp in her voice revealing her emotions. “What were you thinking, wandering off like that?”

I didn’t get a chance to reply before someone else caught me in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you. We’ve been worried,” Rod’s voice said into my ear. He pulled away and frowned. “But what about Owen?”

“We should let Miss Chandler sit down before we interrogate her,” Merlin said. He tucked my hand into his elbow to escort me into the building and up to his office. Once we were there, he got me settled into a chair and handed me a hot cup of tea. Granny and Rod pulled up chairs nearby, like they were afraid to let me out of their sight.

“It is good to see you safe, Miss Chandler,” Merlin said, his voice gruff with a surprising amount of emotion. “We’d feared you were lost for good, along with the others. I know you need to rest after your ordeal, but I’m sure you appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

I swallowed the sip of tea I’d just taken and said, “I totally get it. That’s why I’m here, to spread the word and get help.” I drank the rest of the tea to fortify myself before I launched into the story, far more coherently than I’d told it to Sam. I left out most of the romantic comedy details, focusing instead on what we’d seen before we were captured, what we’d learned after we broke the spell, and what I’d discovered upon returning to the warehouse. “And I’ve only been gone a week?” I concluded. “It’s been a really, really busy week.”

“The enchantment likely altered your sense of time, and time does move differently in other realms,” Merlin said with a wryly amused smile.

“Does that mean I’m a month or so older than I should be?”

Granny snorted. “You’re too young to worry about that.”

Merlin’s expression grew more serious. “And now we must stop Sylvester’s army before he can act.”

“Not to mention gettin’ the rest of our people home,” Sam added. I hadn’t realized he was there, though now that I thought about it, he would have arrived far ahead of the cab. I must have been really out of it before that tea.

“From what I saw in that warehouse, I’m not sure the army will be too tough to deal with,” I said. “They’re having a big party right now. It seems they’ve discovered disco. I don’t think they’re true believers in the cause. I even wonder if they came voluntarily or if they were brought here the way we were sent into that other world and don’t know the real reason. If they’ve been enchanted, they may think this is something they have to do.” I sighed wearily. “But if that’s the case, I don’t know how to break the spell on them because it requires knowing something about their real lives.”

“How many of ’em were there, do you think?” Sam asked.

“A few hundred.”

“That would be enough to solidify Sylvester’s power and eliminate anyone who might oppose him, but not enough to take on the rest of the magical establishment,” Rod said.

“We could probably find a way to trap ’em in that warehouse for the time being,” Sam suggested. “Then Sylvester won’t be able to use ’em.”

“What we need is an iPod with a really good dance music playlist,” I said, half in jest, but in my exhaustion-addled brain, I had a feeling I was on to something. I babbled on while I tried to make sense of it. “Our music seems to be totally new to them, and they’re really getting into it. Elves have a thing for music, right?” And then something that I should have thought of earlier dawned on me. “Maybe that’s how Sylvester’s controlling them. There had to be someone from our world involved in it, because they were doing all the motions to ‘YMCA,’ and that’s not something you just know if you’ve never seen anyone do it before.”