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

Page 28

by Sarah Noffke


  “Yes, but it must be very accurate, down to the exact amount of cats in Stone Town,” Rudolf answered.

  “Why?” Nevin growled.

  “Because cats, similar to the food vendors, give an indication of where the Great Library is.”

  The old, stuffy magician’s nostrils flared. “Why do I get the impression you’re sending us on a wild goose chase?”

  “Wild cat chase,” Rudolf corrected and then shrugged. “I’m telling you what I need to find the Great Library. I mean, if you know of someone else who knows how to track down the location, then by all means, have them help you, but I was the Fierce and know how to find it.” He gave them a proud expression, pressing his hand to his chest. “I led Sophia Beaufont to it very quickly.”

  “How long?” Nevin questioned.

  Rudolf teetered his head back and forth, clicking his tongue as he thought. “Oh, I think it took a quick six or eight weeks.” He was lying, but Nevin didn’t need to know that.

  Pushing up off the desk where they’d been going through this for hours, Nevin shook his head. “Why does it have to take so long? All of this strange information you need.” He tossed his hand in the direction of the maps lying to the side. “What’s with that?”

  Rudolf flattened the map in front of him, ironing out the creases and pretending to study it. “There’s complex magic that hides the Great Library. It changes places often, and only those who know what to look for can find it. Once you do, then you have access to every book in the world. There’s a monumental amount of power in these books.”

  This made Nevin Gooseman smile wickedly. “Yes, that’s what I’ve heard.”

  The politician didn’t know that Rudolf had overheard his conversation about his plans for the Great Library. He thought that by gaining access to the place, he’d be able to find the way to reverse the spell the Dragon Elite used to hide the evil dragons. After that, the magitech army planned on destroying the Great Library. Nevin thought it was too powerful of a place and didn’t like that it was only available for a few chosen magicians.

  The politician didn’t realize he was proving exactly why most shouldn’t know about the Great Library. Knowledge was power, and many abused it. The Dragon Elite always had access to the library, since it was part of their job to protect the planet. A select few magicians had learned of its location. Then there was Rudolf.

  “If we get you this information, will you be able to lead me to the Great Library?” Nevin asked, narrowing his eyes at Rudolf.

  He drummed his finger on the table, studying the map. “Hard to say. Hard to say.”

  “Why?” Nevin Gooseman demanded. He really loved that question. It was always, “Why do you refuse to sleep on the bed in your cell?” or “Why do you talk to yourself at night?” or “Why do you smell like rum?”

  The answers to those questions were as follows according to Rudolf:

  “Because the bed is covered in atrocious plaid sheets that have maybe a thread count of like two-hundred.”

  “I’m talking to Liv at night because I’ve got my magic. You don’t know that since I refuse to eat your poisoned food.”

  “I drank all your rum and refilled the bottle with water, but you won’t realize that until you have your next uptight party, and I’m long gone.”

  However, Rudolf never said these things to Nevin Gooseman. Instead, he made up plausible answers. The politician didn’t need to know Rudolf was sneaking out of his room at night, using magic and raiding the big metal container that stored food. It was really a cold box, but he decided that it was probably to keep it safe from snakes since they didn’t like low temperatures.

  Rudolf was able to get his magical reserves up each night, and now his magic was fully back, but Nevin Gooseman had no idea. Actually he had fired one of his many bodyguards, thinking the man with wide shoulders and a flat nose was responsible for eating all of his caviar. Rudolf suspected the brute didn’t enjoy finer foods, but he had enjoyed each bite as he sat on the floor next to the metal box while drinking a bottle of champagne.

  “It’s hard to say how long it will take to find the Great Library,” Rudolf began, “because the place moves when it senses someone who isn’t supposed to be looking for it is on the hunt. So technically, you’re the reason it’s taking so long.”

  Nevin Gooseman seethed with visible anger. “The place shouldn’t exist in the first place, and if it does, I should have access to it. Everyone should, but that’s fine. I’ll remedy that.”

  “By getting a library card for everyone in the world?” Rudolf asked. Pretending to play dumb was exceptionally difficult for him.

  “No,” Nevin barked, glaring down at the fae. “Why are you looking at that map upside down?”

  More with the “why” questions. This guy just needed to know the answer to everything. Sometimes there was power in not knowing. Ignorance could be bliss. Look at Rudolf. He didn’t know the answers to so many questions, and he was the happiest person in the world. He didn’t know what the periodic table was or what furniture stores sold it, and he wasn’t about to ask around for the answer. The cold box in the food room could remain a mystery for all he cared, and he didn’t need to know how magicians looked at themselves in the mirror without falling into a constant depression. Rudolf really didn’t understand that last one, but he was fine with never knowing the answer.

  He glanced up at Nevin Gooseman and smiled. “How do you know that the map is upside down? Maybe this is the right side up? It’s all about perspective.”

  Nevin looked on the verge of choking Rudolf, which made the king very happy.

  “Sir,” one of the suits by the door said, trying to get Nevin’s attention.

  “What?” he asked with a hiss.

  “The Dragon Elite has a cure for distortion,” the man explained, his voice full of disappointment. “They are disseminating it now.”

  “What?” Nevin boomed.

  That man really loved one-word questions, Rudolf thought, wondering what he’d get drunk on later when the house was quiet, and he could take on his camouflage form and sneak around.

  “It’s true, sir. I’m sorry,” the man who worked for the politician said.

  Nevin appeared angry by the realization that thousands of magicians and elves would be saved from an awful disease. “They just won’t stop, will they?’

  “No, sir,” the man replied. “That’s how it seems.”

  “Well, that’s fine,” Nevin stated, making for the door. “I’ll just twist this to our advantage.”

  At the threshold to the study, Nevin spun around. “Find the Great Library. Do it now, Rudolf.”

  He left the room in a hurry, his guards watching Rudolf from various places.

  The fae smiled to himself, proud the Dragon Elite had been successful. Now he just needed to do his part so they could finally take down the power-hungry politician.

  Chapter One Hundred Two

  “You look like hell,” Hiker Wallace said when Sophia trudged into his office the next morning. She’d decided to skip breakfast since none of the guys were there, and the leader of the Dragon Elite had taken his meal in his study, fed up with waiting around for food in the dining room.

  “Thank you, sir,” Sophia said, dragging herself into the office and sliding onto the couch next to Mama Jamba, who was polishing off a plate of pancakes that appeared a bit overdone.

  “You got back last night,” Hiker said, putting his teacup down. “Did you not sleep?”

  “I did but poorly,” Sophia told him. “I was cursed by an evil specter who was after Baba Yaga’s grimoire, which I loaned to the potion maker on Roya Lane to replicate the cure for distortion that I got from Rumi.”

  Mama Jamba nodded. “That was going to be my guess.”

  Hiker frowned at the old woman. “That? That was going to be your shot in the dark for why Sophia has dark bags under her eyes?”

  Mama pushed the tray away, farther onto the coffee table. “Honestly, I didn’t see
the part about it being on Roya Lane coming, but the rest was my best guess.”

  Shaking his head at Mama Jamba, Hiker turned his attention to the television, which was broadcasting coverage of the Dragon Elite distributing the cure for distortion all around the world and healing thousands. “Well, good work on getting the cure. This is exactly what we needed.”

  A reporter stood in front of a crowd of magicians who were lined up in front of Wilder and Simi. The dragonrider was calmly handing out the small bottles of red liquid, receiving grateful expressions from the sickly looking magicians and elves who were blurring like there was a problem with the television screen. A ping in Sophia’s chest reminded her that even if she was exhausted, her heart was still beating and tied tightly to the guy on the screen who was playing the part of a hero with elegance and humility.

  Sophia suspected that the dreamcatcher Mahkah had given her had worked to keep most of the nightmares at bay. However, her dreams were still disturbing and had jolted her awake all night, preventing her from getting any real restful sleep.

  “So you’ve been cursed,” Hiker said matter-of-factly, returning his gaze to her. “What does it involve?”

  Mama Jamba picked up the wax ball she’d been working on before—the spell they’d use to find the demon dragons around the world. She began molding it while giving Sophia an interested expression. “Evil specters can cast some really nasty spells. Did they curse you to not be able to sleep?”

  Sophia nodded. “Pretty much. Tatiana Jerkface put a mark on my soul that makes it difficult to fall asleep and gives me nightmares and hallucinations.”

  Mama Jamba lowered her chin, studying Sophia. “Oh, I see it now. Yes, that’s an ugly little mark.”

  “That won’t do,” Hiker stated. “We need you rested. We’ve got missions.”

  “Thanks for the concern regarding my soul, sir,” Sophia muttered.

  He sighed. “Of course, I’m worried about your soul, but getting rest is the first priority. Mama, what can you do to fix this?”

  “Fix it?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow at Hiker. “Not a thing. Curses aren’t something I can erase. Even if I could, angels prevent me from doing anything with souls.”

  “Papa Creola is looking into the matter,” Sophia informed them. “In the meantime, I just have to manage.”

  “That’s the spirit, dear,” Mama Jamba cheered.

  “The Castle should be helping, I suspect,” Hiker related, his attention back on the television.

  “It must,” Sophia agreed. “I was able to go to sleep, but not really stay asleep. Mahkah’s dreamcatcher also helped.”

  “Good, then you’ll be all right,” Hiker said absentmindedly. “What is going on with the Ainsley stuff?”

  “It’s all in the process,” Sophia said, slumping down on the couch and feel like she could fall asleep immediately.

  He nodded, not appearing concerned that she looked painfully tired.

  “It was cute that you forgot to tell me Jeremy Bearimy was a giant tarantula,” Sophia said through a big yawn.

  “Did I forget to mention that?” Hiker asked, no remorse in his voice. “Oh, well. I’m sure that was a surprise for you.”

  “I nearly sliced him with my sword,” she informed him.

  “That would have been a travesty,” Mama Jamba said, pressing the wax flat like pizza dough.

  “Yeah, you should really refrain from pulling out your sword when you encounter something different,” Hiker said, leaning forward and watching the television screen. “I expect you to show a bit more discretion when sizing up situations.”

  “I expect you to tell me when you’re sending me to a seamstress who happens to be a huge spider,” Sophia fired back.

  “It slipped my mind.” He picked up the remote and turned up the volume as Nevin Gooseman came on the screen, standing smugly behind a podium in front of the White House.

  Sophia sat up, wondering what the politician would have to say. Maybe he’d praise the Dragon Elite for finding a cure. Maybe he’d take partial credit for it. Or maybe he’d get off their backs since they’d proven to the world they were there to help heal and not cause problems.

  Nevin Gooseman cleared his throat and looked at the camera. “The recent events related to the cure of distortion undoubtedly prove something of incredible significance. The Dragon Elite are responsible for this disease and should be punished.”

  Chapter One Hundred Three

  “Dude, what is wrong with this guy?” Sophia groaned as noisy chatter broke out from the crowd of reporters gathered in front of Nevin Gooseman.

  “Shush,” Hiker encouraged, giving Sophia a punishing glare before looking back at the television.

  When the noise had settled down, the politician with an unrelenting vendetta against the Dragon Elite continued. “They want to be seen as good Samaritans, as our saviors. The Dragon Elite wants us to thank them for curing the world of this horrendous disease affecting magicians, elves, and who knows who else. I implore you all to not be fooled by them. We cannot allow ourselves to be manipulated.”

  Nevin Gooseman paused and narrowed his eyes with hostility and shook his head. “I ask you all, great citizens, if someone saves you from a fire, would you praise them if you found out they lit the match that burned your house down? Of course not! How very convenient that our best scientists, doctors, and healers couldn’t find a cure for this devastating disease known as distortion. Miraculously, the Dragon Elite, who have been stuck in the dark ages, found a cure and at record speed.”

  The crowd broke out in a commotion, hushed voices speaking with urgency. Nevin Gooseman’s gaze slid over the reporters before returning to the television camera.

  “It seems to me,” he continued with a new vehemence in this tone, “that those in the best position to have the cure to this disease are the very people who are responsible for it.”

  “Oh, I’m going to kill him,” Sophia fired, sitting forward as the crowd on the television broke out in even more chatter.

  “Not if I do it first,” Hiker said through clenched teeth.

  “It stands to reason,” Nevin Gooseman went on, “that having access to dragons, the very creatures responsible for spreading distortion among our magical communities, would therefore have the resources to create the cure. Or maybe they manufactured this disease and had the cure long before they started infecting their own race. I don’t know how the Dragon Elite did this, but I know they are behind the spread of distortion and must not be bowed to in praise for dispersing a cure.

  “As a servant to you all, I promise that I will get to the bottom of this. I will unearth the truth. I will ensure the Dragon Elite doesn’t take the power they think they deserve and abuse it. If anything, this should prove to our great nation, to our beautiful planet, that the Dragon Elite will go to great lengths to fool you into trusting them. I fear to think what they will do when you blindly turn over that valuable trust. I urge you, intelligent people, not to allow yourself to be fooled. Don’t allow them to steal power they don’t deserve and will surely abuse.”

  Nevin Gooseman paused, no doubt for effect before plastering a grave expression on his face. “We are in real trouble. Not only do the Dragon Elite have the power to spread disease, but where is Mother Nature? I asked that Hiker Wallace, their leader, show us proof she lives and that she supports them and he has refused. Yes, he’s made statements, but nothing about Mother Nature, and now I dread the very worst.”

  He shook his head, and lowered his chin, then stepped back from the podium like he was paying his respects at a funeral. “I fear that Mother Nature is dead at the hands of the Dragon Elite.”

  Chapter One Hundred Four

  “He did exactly what I expect from a politician,” Hiker seethed. “He twisted the events so they worked for his agenda.”

  The leader of the Dragon Elite had bolted up from his desk at the conclusion of the press conference and begun pacing his office, his boots thundering across the floo
r.

  “He’s playing on people’s fears.” Sophia’s anger was fuming as well, waking her up from her tired state.

  “Before Nevin Gooseman had this ‘Free Mother Nature’ campaign going,” Hiker began, still stomping. “Now, he’s making the world believe that we’ve killed you.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Sophia reasoned. “If Mama Jamba was dead, then what would happen to this planet?”

  “It would go to hell quickly,” Hiker replied. “There would be natural disasters and disease and chaos.”

  Sophia pressed back on the couch, nodding slowly. “Which is exactly what’s happening globally.”

  “Yeah, but not because Mama is dead but rather because Nevin Gooseman has created so much turmoil, playing on mortals’ fears,” Hiker pointed out. “Magicians too. No one will trust us after this.”

  “You have to make a statement and address this directly,” Sophia encouraged, glancing at Mama Jamba, who didn’t seem to mind that the topic of the conversation concerned her and rumors she was dead. She continued to mold her ball of wax.

  Hiker nodded. “I realize that. I’ll tell the public Mama Jamba can’t be convinced to come out of hiding by a two-bit politician.” He actually grinned. “That will hit Nevin Gooseman below the belt.”

  “Yeah, and you should say something about the potions expert who created the cure for distortion,” Sophia suggested. “Bep will back us up as not having created the cure. If we did, then why would I need her help to replicate it?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Hiker said. He flipped off the television, disgusted by the sight of the angry mortals being interviewed after the press conference. “However, at this point, it’s just our word against his, and we’re not going to stoop to his level and manipulate the public, which I fear is why we’ll lose this.”

  “We’re not going to lose this, sir,” Sophia encouraged.

 

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