Rules of Justice (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 8)

by Sarah Noffke

Mama Jamba laughed. “He also said, Jeremy Bearimy.”

  “That’s his name,” Hiker scolded, giving Mother Nature a punishing look.

  “It’s also a time theory named by Papa Creola,” she replied, still laughing.

  Sophia scratched her head. “I know you all get it, but I’m not following you.”

  “Jeremy Bearimy is the name of a great seamstress who creates the strongest, finest armor,” Mama Jamba explained. “He was named for a theory that explains how time moves in the afterlife in relation to Earth.”

  “Afterlife?” Sophia asked, feeling like she was falling down a rabbit hole.

  Mama Jamba waved her off. “Don’t get bogged down in details.”

  “Usually the wait to get in with Jeremy Bearimy takes ages,” Hiker continued, letting out a long breath. “However, he owes me a favor, and I think he’ll put my order to the front of his jobs.”

  “Favor?” Sophia was suddenly intrigued.

  “I saved him from a mob of angry villagers once.”

  “Like ones with pitchforks and fire torches?” Sophia questioned.

  He nodded. “Exactly. People are afraid of that which they don’t understand.”

  Tilting her head to the side, Sophia gave him a cautious expression. “Why would these angry villagers be afraid of Jeremy Bearimy?”

  He shook his head dismissively. “I need you to pay him a visit and ask him to make a dress.”

  “For whom?” Sophia asked, wondering if he meant her.

  “Not me,” Mama Jamba imparted.

  “For me?” she questioned.

  Hiker’s gaze fell on a piece of paper on his desk. “It’s for Ainsley. I want to give her something when she leaves here. Something that reflects her style and is timeless, much like her. As a delegate for the Elfin Council, she doesn’t have a safe job and—”

  “You want something that is armored and protects her,” Sophia interjected, guessing what Hiker was having a hard time getting out.

  He nodded. “Yes, and I trust Jeremy Bearimy will be able to make something that is both elegant and protective. I know he can.”

  “You want me to order this for you because…” Sophia trailed away.

  Hiker picked up the piece of paper. “Because I can’t very well order a dress myself. Asking the men, well, that would only lead to teasing. I figured you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to get out since you’re in between jobs.”

  “And you’re a woman,” Mama Jamba added. “You’ll know how to advise Jeremey Bearimy to ensure the dress is just right.”

  Sophia nodded. “I’m happy to help, sir.”

  “Good,” he chirped and handed over the piece of paper. “These are Ainsley’s measurements as well as some ideas on the style and design based on what I know she likes to wear.”

  Sophia expected just a few bits of information, but Hiker had filled the paper with details.

  “I’ll take off right now, sir.”

  She turned for the door, excited to meet this Jeremy Bearimy and be useful. When she was at the threshold to his office, Hiker said, “Oh, and Sophia.”

  Halting, she looked over her shoulder.

  “Please don’t say anything to anyone about this.”

  Sophia nodded, winking at Mama Jamba before heading out of the office.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Although Sophia had spent a lot of time on Roya Lane, she didn’t remember seeing a shop called the Silk Armor. That wasn’t too surprising, though, since there were tons of stores nestled together, and some of their signs got crammed together or hidden from view. Also, there were some shops that only opened on full moons or lunar eclipses or at midnight. Then there were places like the Brownies Official Headquarters that had an invisible entrance because only those invited could enter. Roya Lane was diverse, and it would take several lifetimes to explore all its nooks and crannies.

  Sophia decided to turn down one of the many unmarked alleyways to see if she could find the Silk Armor. This part of Roya Lane was filled with many specialty shops, making Sophia hopeful she was getting close. There was a hat store that catered to gnomes, who had irregularly shaped heads. A shop for big and tall, which obviously sold giant clothing. Then there was a shoe cobbler who guaranteed that their work “would solve all foot ailments.”

  After tracing up and down the alleyway, Sophia hadn’t spied the Silk Armor. She was about to give up when she noticed a figure hiding behind a light pole. Since they were much larger than the narrow pole, they were doing a very poor job of lurking.

  Tilting her head to the side, Sophia recognized the figure. “Lee, what are you doing?”

  The baker assassin’s eyes widened. “Shush, I don’t want anyone to see me here.”

  “Then you might want to try a better hiding place,” Sophia said with a laugh. “Or a shrinking spell.”

  Lee shook her head. “The person I have a hit out on doesn’t have very good vision, so I’m fine, but you calling me out isn’t helpful.”

  Sophia looked around, searching for the person who would go on to live a very long life. “Who are you after?”

  “You don’t know her,” Lee said, glancing around. “Just some potions expert who blew me off when I asked for them to help me out.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “You mean Bep?”

  The baker assassin sighed. “Lucky guess. Probably a different Bep.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sophia disagreed. “She is working on projects for me. Important ones that will cure the magicians who have caught distortion. Also, another one that will provide a healing elixir that will help my friend and possibly many others.”

  “Yeah, but I need an ointment for my rash,” Lee argued.

  “Fine, when Bep completes the healing elixir, I’ll give you some.”

  “So I shouldn’t kill her?” she asked, quite seriously.

  Sophia shook her head. “Please don’t.”

  “Well, you should pay her a visit, because she seemed to be having trouble with whatever she was working on,” Lee informed her.

  Sophia stuck her hands on her hips. “Was it because you were intimidating her to try and work on your ointment?”

  “Come on! Would I do that? I was trying to persuade her with my good humor.”

  “By good humor, do you mean those jokes that are intended to kill?” Sophia asked.

  “It’s amazing how a small tweak can really change the intent of a joke,” Lee mused. “I just have to scale them back if I want to endear someone to me instead of killing them with laughter.”

  Blinking at her, Sophia shook her head. “I sometimes wonder if you and I live in the same world. It definitely seems we share two very different realities.”

  “Yeah, speaking of grandfathers—”

  “We weren’t talking about grandfathers,” Sophia interrupted.

  “Exactly,” Lee said, nodding along. “My grandfather has the heart of a lion.”

  “That’s nice,” Sophia replied absentmindedly, looking around for the Silk Armor.

  “Incidentally,” Lee continued, “he also has a lifetime ban from the National zoo.”

  “Oh…dear…” Sophia groaned.

  “You get it?” Lee asked, laughing loudly.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  “Oh good. Then it’s like a communist joke.” Lee’s eyes were dazzling with excitement.

  “Please don’t,” Sophia begged, knowing what was coming next.

  “You know because a communist joke isn’t funny unless everyone gets it!” Lee exclaimed, followed by more laughter.

  “You and my dragon would get along famously,” Sophia muttered.

  A disappointed expression fell over Lee’s face. “Oh, you still going on about dragons, thinking they are real. You’re really out of touch.”

  “I’m a dragonrider for the Elite.”

  “I’m your fairy godmother.” Lee held up her hand like she was holding a magical wand. “Where would you like me to transport you?”

  �
�No, you’re not,” Sophia corrected. “She’s much shorter than you and has black hair. If you could tell me where the Silk Armor is, that would be great.”

  “I can, but it won’t do you any good,” Lee told her. “Jeremy Bearimy is booked solid for the next century.”

  “I have an in.” Sophia pulled the piece of paper Hiker had given her from her cloak.

  Lee lowered her chin and regarded Sophia with an edge of hostility. “Why is it that you get all these special favors? With Bep and now with Jeremey Bearimy? I’ve been trying to get him to make me armor for ages.”

  “For your assassin business?” Sophia asked.

  “No, for oven mitts,” Lee answered. “But that’s a really good idea. I never considered wearing armor on one of my jobs.”

  “You didn’t…” Sophia shook her head. “Never mind. Anyway, where is this seamstress shop?”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you ran into me,” Lee said.

  “I caught you trying to hide behind a skinny lamp pole.”

  “Are you calling me fat?” Lee asked, offended.

  “A broomstick would have a hard time hiding behind that lamp pole,” Sophia retorted.

  Lee smiled broadly. “So, you’re calling me skinny, then.”

  “In my head, I’m calling you all sorts of things,” Sophia replied.

  “Same.” Lee pointed down the alleyway. “Anyway, the Silk Armor recently changed the way you can find it since Jeremy Bearimy got so busy. His shop is like the friend request settings on Facebook. You can only find it if you’re friends of a friend.”

  For a half-beat, Sophia closed her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating or this was just a really bad joke the universe was playing on her. “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, on Facebook, if you want to friend me, I have it set so only friends of friends can,” Lee explained. “So you’d have to know Slick Rick or Murder Mike.”

  “They sound like lovely people,” Sophia said.

  Lee shook her head. “They are in prison, but I’ll introduce them to you if you want. Anyway, the shop is two doors down on the right.”

  Just as the assassin baker said this, a door illuminated on a blank brick wall that hadn’t been there seconds before. A sign materialized that read Silk Armor.

  “Oh, great!” Sophia exclaimed, grateful she had run into Lee, although similar to an interaction with Rudolf, she felt a bit off balance suddenly.

  “Good luck with getting your first training bra made,” Lee said, waving as Sophia started for the shop.

  Sophia was going to argue but decided that there wasn’t any point. The assassin baker obviously lived in her own world and Sophia sort of envied her for it.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Sophia entered the Silk Armor shop and was immediately put on guard. She yanked Inexorabilis from its sheath, adrenaline and fear coursing through her as she stared into the beady eyes of a giant tarantula.

  The beast reeled back on its back legs, and kicked its hairy front legs in her direction, its fangs snapping.

  Sophia froze and so did the monster. They regarded each other with tentative stares, waiting for one of them to attack.

  Even though she expected the biggest spider she’d ever set eyes on to attack her, it seemed to be calculating something in its head. Its eyes darted to her and then to Inexorabilis in her grasp, and the fear in his eyes morphed into curiosity.

  That’s when she noticed the seamstress shop around the large spider, whose midsection was easily the size of a riding lawnmower.

  There were spindles of silk everywhere, all of the same gauzy white color. She put it all together. The angry mob Hiker saved Jeremy Bearimy from. His comment about people being afraid of what they didn’t understand. The name of the shop: Silk Armor.

  She took a step backward and lowered her sword. “You’re Jeremy Bearimy, aren’t you?”

  “And you are the daughter of Guinevere Beaufont,” the tarantula stated.

  “You knew my mother?” Sophia asked, sheathing Inexorabilis, not fearful of the huge creature, who most would find menacing. Bitterly she thought, Wouldn’t have hurt, Hiker, to tell me that Jeremy Bearimy was a giant tarantula. He was probably having a good laugh about right now. Lee, too.

  “Of course,” Jeremy Bearimy said, scuttling back a few steps, and taking a less defensive stance. “I made her armor. She was the only Warrior for the House of Fourteen I ever worked for, but your mother was a different kind of magician.”

  Sophia always liked hearing others who knew her mother talk about her. She had only ever heard wonderful things about the woman who died when she was really young. She was parts of Liv and Reese and, Sophia hoped that in her heart, she was part of her.

  “Are you here because of her armor?” Jeremey Bearimy asked. “You’re not a Warrior for the House of Fourteen, correct?”

  “No,” Sophia responded. “My sister Liv is. I’m certain my mother probably died in that armor.”

  The tarantula’s old soul eyes turned remorseful. “I’m sorry for your loss. And yes, she wore it all the time. It would have saved her life many times, I suspect.” He lifted one of his eight legs and pointed to the sword on her hip. “I remembered seeing that sword when Guinevere visited, which was how I recognized you. And you look just like your mother.”

  Sophia blushed. “Thank you. That’s nice to hear.”

  “So if you didn’t come here to have her armor repaired, then I’m not sure I can help you,” Jeremy Bearimy said. “I have orders to complete for the next century or more, at least.”

  Sophia nodded. “I’ve heard. But I’ve been sent to you by my leader, who says you will put him ahead.”

  Jeremey Bearimy’s fangs rubbed against each other, like a nervous habit. “You don’t work for the House of Fourteen, you said. I can tell by the way you held your mother’s sword and the armor you’re wearing that you are a warrior. Who do you work for?”

  “Hiker Wallace, the leader of the Dragon Elite.”

  The tarantula’s legs moved fast as it turned around, putting its large body in Sophia’s direction. She peeled back slightly.

  “Juergen!” the spider yelled. “Get in here! We have an important job to do!”

  Sophia smiled, glad the name of her leader evoked so much urgency, in a good way.

  The tarantula, for as large as he was, moved with a strange grace, picking up each leg carefully and pivoting back around. “Hiker Wallace. It has been a long time since I heard that name. He was quite right to expect me to put him ahead. I wouldn’t be here right now if not for him. I was a nobody then, with no talents and only the ability to evoke fear in those who didn’t understand that I had no interest in harming them.”

  A smile lit up Jeremy Bearimy’s eyes. “I’m sure you can relate based on your own reaction during our initial meeting.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sophia said, bowing her head.

  He waved her off, brushing one leg. “Don’t be. There’s something in the collective social consciousness that tells humans of every culture to fear spiders. I think it’s because my ancestors ate yours.”

  Sophia chuckled. “That would do it.”

  He nodded. “The same is true of your kind and snakes, sharks, and many other deadly creatures. It is more about self-preservation than the prejudice of a species, but I do appreciate the modern culture is more open-minded because I have no interest in harming humans. They are my best customers. Even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t eat you. I hear you taste awful.”

  “Good to know,” Sophia said with a laugh. “I’ll tell my dragon that since he’s always threatening to eat me.”

  “Oh,” Jeremy Bearimy said with delight. “You work for Hiker Wallace, so that would make you a rider for the Dragon Elite. How very wonderful. Does he want armor made for you?”

  Sophia shook her head, about to hand over the instructions that Hiker had given her but was interrupted by a ruckus from the back room.

  Half expecting another giant taran
tula to enter from the large archway that led to the back where shelves were lined with supplies, Sophia was surprised by the man who bumbled through, carrying several boxes under his arms. He had a long beard and wide eyes as he tripped over the lip of the rug and dove forward, careful to protect the boxes he was carrying as he rolled over on his head and back, springing up to his feet like he meant it to happen.

  “Sorry, sir. Sorry for falling. For dropping the samples,” the man said, shaking his head of long hair, trying to get his bearings.

  “It’s quite okay, Juergen,” Jeremy Bearimy said dryly. “And half expected.”

  The man was vibrating with excitement as he set down the boxes, pulling the lid off the first. It flew from his hands and dropped to the floor. He paused, looked down at his accident, and then to Jeremy Bearimy.

  “Just the measuring tape,” the tarantula ordered, extending two of his legs in his assistant’s direction.

  “Actually, what Hiker wants isn’t armor,” Sophia interjected. “It isn’t for me.”

  One of the spider’s eyes swiveled in Sophia’s direction. “Go on then.”

  “Hiker wants you to make an elegant dress that also has the strength of armor,” she explained. “It’s to protect a delegate for the Elfin Council.”

  “Oh,” he replied, drawing out the word. “I had wondered what had ever happened to the lovely Ainsley Carter.”

  Sophia nodded. “She shall be returning to her post on the council soon. Hiker wanted a gift for her since she’s served the Gullington and the Dragon Elite for all these years.”

  A sneaky expression crossed the tarantula’s face but disappeared as he turned his attention to the assistant named Juergen. “No measurements are necessary, but I want to see samples of our high-quality fabrics for formal wear.”

  “Yes, Jeremy Bearimy,” Juergen replied, popping up to his feet. After fixing the contents of the box and nearly tripping again, he shuffled from the room.

  Sophia extended her hand and offered Hiker’s instructions to the seamstress. “He sent her measurements and some ideas for the dress, but he wants me to weigh in on the details.”