by Sarah Noffke
That wouldn’t do.
Rudolf had to escape. He missed the Captains and longed for Serena, his wife. His kingdom would need him. Also, he really needed a proper shave. He was starting to feel like a magician with the stubble on his cheeks and unkempt hair. The king of the fae shuddered at the idea of even remotely resembling a homely magician. Or even worse, a dirty hippie. What if the facial hair caused him to become a vegan? Was there anything worse in the world, he wondered to himself. Maybe having to stand in lines or pay taxes.
Picking up the plate of poisoned food, Rudolf went over to the toilet in the corner. The few dozen times he’d been abducted and imprisoned, he’d stayed in horrible accommodations. This was no exception. The room was windowless with only a bed, a toilet, and a slot in the door for food to be delivered. Even worse was that the bed covers were covered in plaid.
He shook his head at the atrocity. Abduct a man. Strip him of his powers. Interrogate him for hours. For the love of all that was holy, do not expect him to sleep in a bed made from T-shirt material that looked like something a lumberjack would wear to a funeral. What was wrong with these people?
Obviously, there were many things wrong with these kidnappers besides their bad taste and lack of hospitality. At first, Rudolf thought this was a fun game Serena had set up for his birthday. Alas, when she didn’t show up or have him chained to the bed, he concluded it was a bona fide abduction.
Rudolf waited for talks of a ransom. He’d expected to have the kidnappers take videos of the king of the fae suffering in his cell, unable to sleep for fear of lying on the plaid bedding. His people would pay any amount to get him back. The magicians, who were notorious for being poor, would low ball and only ask for a few hundred million. That would be chump change for the fae and handed over without batting an eye.
However, there was no ransom request as far as Rudolf could tell. Instead, for hours each day, his kidnappers asked him the same question over and over again. A ridiculous question that the king of the fae refused to answer. Where was the Great Library?
Of all the reasons to abduct him, this seemed like the worst. It was just a building with a bunch of books. Okay, all the books in all the world. There weren’t even any slot machines in the place. Or a bar, or strippers. Not that Rudolf knew of anyway.
Yes, Rudolf could take them to the Great Library—a place hidden to most. Since he had once been the Fierce, one of the protectors of the Great Library, it was easier for him to find it. But the Great Library had been further hidden due to losing its last librarian. It was now even more difficult to find, but thanks to Rudolf’s association with Plato, he knew where to look. It appeared someone knew that.
Rudolf wasn’t talking, though. He didn’t know why these unimaginable lorry plonkers wanted to get into the Great Library, but the reasons couldn’t be good. There was a lot of valuable knowledge inside that place, and it was protected for a reason. With no librarian, if Rudolf led them to the Great Library, they could have access to everything, and the potential dangers were endless.
No, Rudolf wasn’t talking.
What he was going to do was escape this dilapidated place and do what was most important, get really wasted. Then he’d kiss his children and slap his wife’s butt.
Scraping the poisoned food into the toilet, as he’d done for the last three days, Rudolf grimaced before flushing it, making his captors think he’d eaten. At his kingdom, he wasn’t responsible for doing dishes. Hell, he didn’t even have to chew his food if he didn’t want to. He had people for that. Scraping food off a plate was a new low for him. Rudolf reasoned it was humbling. After several hundred years on this planet, it was good to keep himself humbled.
As he’d been doing, Rudolf opened the slot and slid the plate back through, launching it down the long hallway. From what he could tell, there were several guards stationed on the floor. He wasn’t in a basement, as he suspected since he spied light a few times through the slot. The guards wore really lousy shoes. Rudolf shivered with disgust, remembering spying the shoes when he’d looked through the slot. Sneakers, the low lives wore rubber-soled sneakers like they were blind and didn’t care if they burned out other people’s eyes. Some people just didn’t care how they looked.
Rudolf glanced down at his dirty tunic and slacks, grateful when he felt his magic pool inside of him. The three day fast had worked. His magical powers were back. He considered using it right then to change his clothes, but that might deplete his reserves and then he’d still be stuck.
Shaking his head, he decided he’d escape his kidnappers, then change and make for the closest bar. Priorities.
Although Rudolf’s magical powers had returned, they weren’t at full steam yet. For one, the poison was still in his system. Also, much like magicians, fae’s powers were somewhat replenished by food and water. Not being able to eat had inhibited his strength. This was the reason the fawning wank trailers had used food as the delivery device for the poison. Rudolf had upped his water intake, which wasn’t poisoned, and that appeared to be enough to give him back his magic.
Holding out his hand, Rudolf tried to open a portal. He was crestfallen to find there were barriers in place that prevented portal magic. Whoever his captors were, they were of the magical variety.
Rudolf had gotten a brief glimpse of the men who grabbed him and remembered how ugly they were, so they were probably magicians.
Unfortunately, it would be a bit longer before a martini could grace Rudolf’s lips. He’d have to sneak out of his cell and through the house full of atrocious artwork from the Renaissance period. Magicians always had the worst taste. They refused to admit that baroque artwork was superior. The good news for Rudolf was he should have enough magic to accomplish the task since, on even a bad day, he was more powerful than a slew of magicians.
Pressing his ear to the door, the fae listened, ensuring it was quiet in the hallway. When he confirmed there was no one on the other side, he pointed his finger at the door, unlocking it.
Letting out a long breath, Rudolf turned the doorknob, excited to be escaping his cell and getting his freedom back.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Rudolf had been right. His captors were gross magicians. Now that he was outside his cell, he could sense them. Their magic was a different brand than fae, giants, elves, or gnomes. It felt dirtier, more corrupt.
Rudolf also knew that the bad-taste-magicians had taken him based on the modern design of the hallway. It was like Frank Lloyd-Wright had thrown up all over the place. The king of the fae shuddered, wondering if he could take much more abuse to his eyes.
In a room up ahead, Rudolf heard voices. Using a camouflaging spell, Rudolf decided to blend into the narrow hallway. He suspected it would kill his soul a little to take on the appearance of the clean lines and black and white photography on the walls, but it was his only option for going unnoticed as he made his escape. He didn’t have enough magic to use an invisibility spell.
Once he confirmed that he’d blended and taken on the appearance of whatever was around him, like a chameleon, Rudolf set off down the hallway. Ahead were two doorways on either side. Beyond, there was an open bank of windows that led to an open grassy yard. That would be his escape route.
As he neared the first doorway, Rudolf tensed, recognizing the person’s voice who was talking. He’d heard it on the news recently. Liv had demanded he flip the channel from cartoons so she could watch. She really was the most boring person in the world, always subscribing to world news and talking about things like sanctions on magic and laws. Still, she was kind of fun at times, so he kept her around. She’d literally do anything to help him, and loyalty was something that meant a lot to the fae.
The man’s voice though—he was the politician who had been campaigning against the Dragon Elite, Nevin Gooseman.
Rudolf narrowed his eyes, sudden anger making him scowl. He shook his head, worried about the frown lines such a thing would cause. How dare this man give me wrinkles, Rudolf thoug
ht bitterly.
Pressing in close to the wall next to the doorway, Rudolf listened to the politician who was talking to someone else in the room.
“Well, if the fae won’t talk, then he’s useless to us,” Nevin Gooseman stated with no flamboyance.
Magicians really were the worst. How did they not bore themselves to death on a daily basis?
“I was hoping we could get the location of the Great Library out of him by now,” another man said.
“He has until tomorrow to start talking,” Nevin Gooseman said.
“If he doesn’t?” the other guy asked.
“Get rid of him,” Nevin Gooseman answered. “But make it fast and clean and ensure that his body can’t be found. He is the king of the fae, after all.”
“Yes, sir,” the man affirmed.
“What is your plan if he starts talking?” a third man asked.
“If he takes us to the Great Library,” Nevin Gooseman began, “then we will storm the place with our magitech military. I suspect security will still be a problem. Besides, I’m going to do the mortal world a favor and destroy the place. It really isn’t fair that magicians keep a copy of every book ever written and don’t allow anyone but a few to have access to it.”
Rudolf couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This guy was a magician but held so much power because he chose to rule over mortals. He’d been trying to sabotage the Dragon Elite for months. Now he was going after the Great Library—a place that needed to be protected since it was full of so much knowledge. Secrets that in the wrong hands would be deadly to the planet.
“And the information you hope to find in the Great Library?” one of the men asked.
“It’s key to uncovering the spell hiding the evil dragons,” Nevin Gooseman replied. “Once we can see them, our magitech military forces can shoot them down, killing them for good and making the world a better place.”
Rudolf’s head was suddenly hot with anger. He couldn’t believe this guy.
Although Rudolf wanted to escape the nightmare of bad design where he was being held prisoner, it suddenly occurred to him he couldn’t. He had to play this right if he was going to help his friend, Sophia Beaufont. He knew from her sister, Liv, she’d been struggling to combat what Nevin Gooseman was doing to the Dragon Elite.
If Rudolf escaped, there would be no evidence to indict Nevin Gooseman and his cronies. That’s what the Dragon Elite needed to discredit him and earn back the great reputation they deserved. If Rudolf left, Nevin Gooseman would just find another way to go after the Dragon Elite. No, he had to stay and find evidence to bring the politician down and help Sophia and Liv to fight this guy.
Which meant Rudolf needed a way to communicate with Liv. That would be his next objective. Then he’d find the evidence that would help the Dragon Elite. Then he’d have a bottle of prosecco. Maybe two…definitely two, he decided.
Turning for his prison cell, the fae tiptoed across the hall. He couldn’t believe he was about to willingly lock himself back up for his friends. They were worth it, though, and he’d do anything to help them.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Evan tapped his fingers on the table, his impatience palpable. Under the dining room table, Sophia could hear Wilder’s shoe also drumming. Even the usually calm Mahkah kept glancing at the kitchen door, as though expecting to make it open suddenly. Quiet, however, appeared serene, his napkin pressed into the collar of his shirt and his fork and knife in hand.
Hiker blew out a breath, finally breaking the silence. “Okay, how much longer is it going to take?” he bellowed in the direction of the kitchen.
“Things take time, son,” Mama Jamba informed him, creating what appeared to be a ball of wax at her usual place at the table. “When you understand that, you become more at peace with the process.”
The leader of the Dragon Elite sighed dramatically. “Oh, good, a lecture. When I’m starving. Great idea, Mama. This should be fun.”
“You aren’t anywhere close to starvation,” Ainsley remarked, striding from the kitchen, and to everyone’s disappointment, carrying nothing. She was wearing a long pink gown full of ruffles and a devilish expression.
“What’s the holdup?” Hiker demanded.
Ainsley took a chair at the table and shrugged. “The Castle and Trin are trying to figure things out. It’s sort of a lesson in trust, and both appear to be struggling.”
“Can’t she just slice up some bread, meat, and cheese and save the trust exercises for later?” Evan groaned.
“She could,” Ainsley reasoned. “It’s better if they work this out now while I’m here to supervise.”
“Can’t you do something about this, Quiet?” Hiker asked the gnome who was looking down at his plate as if expecting the food to magically appear.
He mumbled something, banging the fork and knife in his hands on the table a few times.
“You’re quite right,” Mama Jamba agreed, continuing to mold the ball in her hands. “You do things your way, and the rest of us will just adapt.”
“I shouldn’t have to adapt in my own Castle,” Hiker muttered, looking back over his shoulder.
“Actually, son, you should have to adapt wherever you are,” Mama Jamba imparted, breaking the well-formed ball in two.
“What are you doing?” Evan asked, leaning over to get a closer look at what Mother Nature was up to.
“I’m sitting listening to a grown man complain that his belly is empty,” she answered.
“Me too.” Evan pointed to the wax in Mama Jamba’s hands, which she was now molding into snake-like objects. “But, I was referring to the project you’ve brought to the table.”
“It’s the spell to find the demon dragons,” Mama Jamba explained, looking up at Sophia. “It needs some more time.”
She nodded at once, always curious about the strange magic Mother Nature used. It rarely made sense to her.
“Oh, of course, it is.” Evan laughed. “So you mold a statue, and it points to where the demon dragons are hiding out. Is that right?”
Mama Jamba glanced up, giving him an annoyed expression. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear Evan. That would be a very haphazard approach. When the spell is done, it will just highlight the demon dragons on the Elite globe for a bit of time.”
“Yeah, dear Evan,” Wilder mocked. “Why are you so ridiculous?”
“Because the hunger has gone to my brain,” he complained, holding his stomach.
“Oh, so you’ve been hungry for a very long, long time, then?” Wilder asked.
Evan turned his attention to Hiker. “Sir, can I have permission to pull out my phone and order us some food? I’ll get you fish and chips from that place you like.”
“No,” Ainsley answered at once. “We are going to show confidence in Trin and the Castle that they can work through their differences. You all can just suck it up and wait.”
“Their differences?” Sophia asked, letting the question hang in the air.
Ainsley nodded, seeming to understand what she was asking. “Trin wants to do everything manually. The Castle wants her to rely on it to provide based on her thoughts and the requirements you have. When Trin finally acquiesces, the Castle doesn’t deliver what she was expecting, and then she gets angry, making her requests muddled. So far, they’ve managed to produce an overcooked duck and under ripened carrots.”
“I’ll eat it at this point,” Evan said, looking over his shoulder as the door swung open.
The cyborg was carrying a large bowl of split pea soup that looked rather appetizing.
“That smells nice,” Ainsley said, smiling at the housekeeper in training.
Trin nodded, the movement marked by a mechanical sound. “Thank you. But it’s cold.”
“There is a stove back there,” Evan pointed out.
Ainsley shook her head. “Cold soup sounds lovely.”
“Is there any bread?” Hiker asked, raising an eyebrow at the bowl as Trin slid it onto the table in front of him.
&n
bsp; “There is, sir.” Trin had an embarrassed expression on her face. “Unfortunately, it is of the sweet variety with currants and chocolate throughout.”
“I’ll take some of that,” Mama Jamba chirped.
“Oh good,” Trin said with relief. “Because I wasn’t able to make your pancakes. I’m very sorry.”
Mama Jamba waved her off. “We adapt. That’s what we do.”
The cyborg retreated back in the direction of the kitchen, the hydraulics in her legs marking each step.
“I don’t understand why Quiet can’t just go back there, and the two of them talk this out,” Evan stated, watching with disappointment as Hiker spooned soup into his bowl.
“That’s not how it works,” Ainsley said flatly. “You don’t go to the Elfin Council when you have a leak in your house. That’s like calling a doctor for a hangnail. You just have to work it out on your own.”
“Duh, Evan,” Wilder said, condescendingly. “Don’t you understand how this magical Castle run by the unassuming groundskeeper no one can understand works?”
“I can understand him just fine,” Ainsley argued.
“Me too!” Mama Jamba cheered.
“I have on occasion,” Sophia admitted.
“So he speaks to the women, then,” Hiker observed, eyeing the cold soup with mild interest before taking a bite and grimacing at the cold temperature.
“Or maybe it’s the women who know how to listen properly,” Ainsley stated in her new, refined tone.
“Huh?” Evan asked. “What’d you say?”
She reached out and slapped his arm, making him startle. “Get your elbows off the table and sit up straight.”
Quiet mumbled something, dug into his own soup happily.
“Well, I can try,” Ainsley argued in reply to whatever he said.