by Sarah Noffke
“But you did tip?” Liv questioned.
He scoffed at her. “Of course. What, do you think I’m a stingy gnome?”
As luck would have it, a group of gnomes passed as Rudolf said that, and they all spat in their direction, holding up their fists. “You know, at some point, I will have to form a diplomatic alliance with the gnomes, and you aren’t making my job easy.”
“Oh, are you referring to that silly Father Time business?” Rudolf asked. “That man never remembers anything, and that was ages ago.”
“It was last week,” Liv corrected. “And he’s the Father of freaking Time. He sort of does remember everything.”
Rudolf dismissed her with a shake of his head.
“Are you going to tell me now why you stole that purple gemstone from Papa Creola?” Liv asked, cutting around a group of elves.
“No, but I am going to tell you that I’m that much closer to figuring out the memory connected to your ring,” Rudolf said.
“Cool. What is it?” Liv asked.
He shook his head. “I need just a bit longer. I booked a beautiful Airbnb on the coast for us. After a long weekend of passion—”
“The law be damned,” Liv cut him off. “I will murder you right here.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay in the Airbnb without you. Ocean breezes and Waves help me think.”
“Yes, waves have that effect on me, too,” Liv related.
He shook his head. “No, I was referring to a stripper from Venice Beach I invited. Her name is Waves.”
“Ewww,” Liv said. “And you invited me to this beach shack too?”
“Well, yes. The more, the merrier.”
“No,” Liv answered. “The more, the more STDs.”
Rudolf halted when Liv did, staring at the blank brick wall. “So you’re off to see the brownies again. This is your third or fourth time. Do you have a thing for short guys? If so, that explains why you don’t like me.”
“I don’t like you because you’re as scummy as a urinal at a truck stop.”
Rudolf nodded. “I agree that pushing me away is for the best. Otherwise, I’ll only break your heart. But no matter what you say, I know your true feelings for me. And although I can’t return them, the flattery is very nice.”
Liv ignored him, stepping forward to announce her presence to the brownies, hoping they’d open the door for her as they’d done before.
“Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven, here to see Mortimer,” she called like a weirdo to the solid brick wall.
Rudolf shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I really took you as the type to fall for your own kind, but I’m not one to judge. If you fancy those hairy little cleaners, then you have my full support. I’ll even attend the wedding, although I daresay the attention will all be on me and not you as the bride.”
“Please note that I’m never, ever getting married, and if by some strange token I actually do, your invitation will be lost in the mail,” Liv stated.
Rudolf chuckled. “I do love the way you plan in advance.”
The door to the brownie office materialized with a note taped to the front. It read You’re most welcome to enter, Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven. Please leave the fae at the door. We don’t want trash in here.
Rudolf nodded after reading it. “Please tell my friend Mortimer that although I appreciate his offer, I’m much too busy to grace him with my presence. I’m off to the beach cottage to do your bidding and find the memory you so desire.”
“Okay,” Liv stated. “You know where to find me when you’re done.”
“And I accept that informal invitation to slip into your bed some night,” Rudolf said, hurrying away through the crowd before Liv could protest.
Chapter Seven
If it were possible, the hallway that led to Mortimer’s office was even dustier than before. Liv bent over, trying to keep her hair out of the many cobwebs blanketing the ceiling. She ducked into the official’s office, unsurprised to find it overflowing with messy stacks of paper. Mortimer was sitting behind his desk, squinting into a hand mirror.
“Ummm, hello,” Liv said to get his attention.
He waved at her to sit down in the tiny chair in front of his desk, not taking his eyes off the mirror. “Do you think I’m overly hairy?”
Liv froze halfway through the process of trying to sit down. “Ummm, I’m not sure I’m in the best position to answer that question. I’ve only met two brownies.”
Mortimer dropped the mirror on his desk and frowned. “I meant for any type of creature.”
Liv tried her best to wedge her butt into the chair, keeping most of her weight on her heels. “You really shouldn’t let that dumb fae get into your head. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Although that may be true, Rudolfus is considered one of the most attractive fae, which makes him one of the most attractive creatures on this planet.”
Liv shook her head. “Yes, but you realize his personality counts against him, right?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want to sit across a dinner table from him, but I don’t mind staring at the man.”
Liv sighed. “Believe me, he is even more unattractive when he eats. You should have seen him with queso running down his chin. He wasn’t a lady’s man then.”
“You and Rudolfus have been spending much time together, I’ve heard,” Mortimer said.
The brownie had eyes everywhere and probably knew that Rudolf had attended the party at John’s shop. That was why she thought he might be able to offer a clue about the demons. “We’re working together on something, that’s all.”
“Yes, Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven, has indeed been working on many projects,” Mortimer observed. “I’ve heard tales of your adventures. But what brings you here today? John is happy with our work, isn’t he?”
Liv nodded at once. “Oh, yes. He’s supremely happy, and so am I. It makes my life easier too that your brownies clean the shop every night. Thank you. I’m actually here to see if you can offer me any information on a specific creature who is fairly mysterious and hard to track down.”
Mortimer’s face brightened with curiosity. “We have seen lots of creatures. I’m sure I can be of help. Are you looking for a unicorn that goes by the name Blisters? He’s always hiding, but I know where to find him, although it isn’t technically on Earth. Oh! Let me guess, it’s a Londil you’re looking for. Those aliens may not be present on this planet, but I know where to find them. We have eyes everywhere.”
Liv didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Aliens are real?”
Mortimer paused, maybe waiting for her to say she was just kidding. After a few seconds, he laughed. “You’re very silly, Liv Beaufont. We all know that aliens are real. Not magical like us, but unique in their own ways.”
“Right,” Liv said, drawing out the one word to give her time to assimilate this new information. “And no, this isn’t about some delightful unicorn or mysterious aliens.”
Mortimer scowled. “Unicorns aren’t all rainbows and sunshine. They’re pretty high-maintenance, if you ask me, and not as useful as most make them out to be. Just go down to their central office, and you’ll see what I mean. Unorganized, and totally obsessed with themselves.”
Liv tried to keep her gaze off the mirror in front of Mortimer or the dozens of stacks of paper around the office. “I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, I’m actually looking for a specific demon.”
Mortimer gasped and pushed away from his desk, like trying to put as much space between him and Liv as possible. “Why would you want to know where a specific demon is? I hope it’s so that you can avoid it.”
Liv shook her head. “Actually, so I can track him down and take his blood.”
Mortimer shook his head rather forcefully. “I beseech you to reconsider. There is no reason to put yourself in that kind of danger. The brownies like you. We want to keep you around.”
Liv smiled. “I appreci
ate that, but I have a friend who needs my help. Do you have any information on demons and where to find specific ones? I’m looking for one by the name of Sabatore.”
Mortimer was shaking his head before she was even done speaking. “I’m afraid on this matter, I can be of no help. Demons do go after mortals, but usually not the ones we serve. They are two different types of clientele. Ours are genuine and pure, which are two traits a demon doesn’t look for.”
“Yes, they want the lost and lonely, isn’t that right?” Liv asked.
“That’s correct,” Mortimer answered. “So, as you can see, of all the creatures you could have asked about, those are the ones I can tell you the least of.”
Liv sighed, wondering what options they had left. Stefan was running out of time.
“However, my role working with many types has given me certain knowledge that might be of use to you.”
Liv perked up, watching as Mortimer began digging into his messy desk drawer. Bits of paper spilled onto the floor as he dug deeper.
“Where is that card?” he muttered, nearly disappearing into the open drawer. “Eureka!” Mortimer held up a yellowed card, his face ecstatic. “Once again, my filing system has proven most useful.”
Liv stared around at the towering piles of papers and managed a nod.
“I once met an elf by the name of Renswick,” Mortimer explained, handing the card to her. “A very strange fella. Not the kind of person you’d invite to your parents’ house.” He snapped his mouth shut, remorse covering his face at once. “I’m sorry, Liv Beaufont. That was very insensitive of me.”
She shook her head, dismissing it. “I know what you mean. Please go on.”
“Well, Renswick might be very eccentric, but I believe at his core, he’s a good person, which is why I’m giving you him as a contact.”
Liv studied the card. It read:
Renswick Shoshawnawalla
Ashland, Oregon
“This elf,” Liv began. “You think he might know something about Sabatore?”
Mortimer shrugged. “I can’t say for certain, but if anyone does, it will be him.”
“Renswick Shoshawnawalla,” Liv said, reading the card. “That’s quite the mouthful. Does he go by Ren for short?”
Mortimer’s eyes enlarged. “I wouldn’t advise you to call him that. For some reason, he’s acted highly offended on the occasions that he’s been called that.”
“So, this Renswick,” Liv began. “Can you tell me more about him?”
“He studies demons,” Mortimer explained. “I hear that he has the most extensive catalog of the various individuals, mostly including those who have been around for a long time and have achieved legendary status.”
“Why would anyone want to study demons?” Liv asked.
“I had the same thought as you when I learned about it,” Mortimer answered. “However, all things in life should be studied by someone so that we understand them better. I don’t want to study natural disasters, but I’m grateful that someone does, so we know how to prepare for them. I’m not sure what Renswick’s motivation is for studying demons, but if anyone knows where your Sabatore is, it will be that elf.”
Liv nodded, trying not to allow herself to hope too much just yet. “How do I find him? It just has a city and state listed here.”
Mortimer nodded in understanding. “The area isn’t large, and Renswick is well-known there. He lives among the strangest of strange types of people. Just ask around and someone should be able to point you in the direction of his manor, which I hear is pretty spectacular on its own.”
“These people…” Liv said, hesitation in her voice. “You say they are strange. Are they dangerous?”
Mortimer shook his head. “No, but you might find them mildly annoying. The city is made up of the northwestern tribe of elves, and those are a special brand.”
“Oh. A special brand? What does that mean?”
Mortimer gave her a sideways look. “They’re all hippies.”
Chapter Eight
“Do you know anything about these eccentric hippies in Oregon?” Liv asked Plato, turning Renswick’s card over in her hands, thinking that an address or more information might appear on the other side. It was still blank.
Plato lifted his head off his paws. “I make it a rule to limit my time with elves. Especially ones described as hippies.”
“Oh, what’s your beef with elves?”
“Nothing,” Plato said. “I just spent a better part of a cent—” He caught himself and looked to the side. “I mean, I spent some time with the tribe in the Pacific. I’m still detoxing after the experience.”
“What’s the tribe like there? Is that in Hawaii?”
Plato nodded. “Yes, and they are all surfers. If I smell suntan lotion again in this lifetime, it will be too soon.”
“So, how many lives have you lived?” Liv asked slyly.
“More than one and less than nine,” he answered, making Liv laugh out loud.
John danced through from the door in the back, nodding his head along with one of his favorite Beatles songs, Blackbird.
“What are you laughing about?” he asked, looking around as if expecting her to be with a customer.
Liv pointed to Plato. “He made an especially funny joke.”
The feline had laid his head on his paws and was pretending to be asleep.
John nodded, giving her his usual skeptical expression when she stated that Plato could talk. “Right.” He looked down at Pickles, who was trotting beside him. “This little puppy keeps me in stitches, so I know what you mean.”
Liv shook her head. “He can talk. I promise.”
John didn’t seem to hear her as he cued up another song on his jukebox, moving his shoulders as he did. It had quickly become his favorite thing in the store, which made Liv happy. “Have you finished fixing the hairdryer Mrs. Johnson brought in?”
“Oh, I got that fixed ages ago,” Liv said, striding over to the shelves.
“And how about the three different vacuum cleaners we got in this morning?” John questioned.
“Yep, those are all good.” Liv moved around various items on the shelf, trying to find the devices she’d repaired that morning. “The thing is, we got in a ton of stuff the last week.”
John nodded, moving his feet to Love Me Do. “Yes, business is bustling. I couldn’t be happier. I think it has something to do with the new energy in here. It’s…happier.”
Liv smiled. “You’re happier, and it’s contagious. The customers love it.”
John swayed and Pickles barked, enjoying the dancing. “Well, whatever it is, I’m thrilled.”
“I’m glad, but we’re running out of places for all the devices,” Liv began. “Even the back is full.”
“It’s a good problem to have,” John said. “Never in thirty years do I remember being able to say I had too much work. But with your help, it’s not too much. Just enough.”
“I’m glad, but I think we have a new problem.” Liv squinted, trying to see what was on the back of the shelf. “I can’t find anything. There’s just too much here, and it’s all crammed together.”
“Do you think we need a better organization system?” John asked, his mood not altered from this news.
“I think that we need to expand the shop,” Liv stated.
John froze. “But the laundromat on the other side has been there for ages. And the deli on the other side, well, I love the Thomasons. And I can’t even dream of moving.”
Liv held up her finger. “No, I mean magically expanding. There are spells that magicians, especially the giants, use to fit more into less, like the book that Rory gave me.” She indicated Mysterious Creatures, which was sitting on the workbench. It was almost always by her side. “Giants aren’t into making things look better than they are, like magicians do with their homes, but a simple renovation spell could do the trick.”
“Do you know how to do such a thing?” John asked.
Liv def
lated. “I’m afraid I don’t, but I’ll learn if you agree to the change.”
John thought for a moment. “It would be nice to have more shelf space in here, but you’re already taxed with multiple jobs like tracking down specters or whatever they are.”
“Demons,” Liv corrected with a giggle.
John grimaced. “Still don’t like the idea that you have to hunt such horrible things. I don’t know what they are entirely, only what mortal fiction says about them, and it’s not good.”
Liv nodded. “I’m certain they are much worse in real life than the books, but don’t worry. Bellator keeps me safe.”
“I’m grateful for that,” John stated. “Didn’t you say that House of Seven uses one of those spells to hide its size?”
“Yes, the entrance to it in Santa Monica looks like a rundown two-story palm-reading shop,” Liv explained.
“And the actual building?” John asked.
“It’s seven stories, and quite extensive,” Liv said, her heart starting to race just from thinking about the building. “And there are large grounds that include a huge garden. The library takes up an entire floor, although it’s three stories most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” John questioned, his brow furrowing.
“Well, it changes depending on… Well, I’m not sure what are the factors that influence the library are,” Liv stated. “My parents used to say that it was more alive than the garden. If you’re not careful, you can easily get lost in there. Apparently, there is still a magician in there who went searching for a book on dragons over a decade ago, and no one has seen him since.”
John laughed. “What an incredible place. I’m not sure why you choose to live in that crummy apartment instead of at the House of Seven.”
Liv shot him a look of offense. “Take that back, John Carraway. My apartment isn’t crummy. It’s awesome and perfect for me, and I can clean it in under ten minutes.”
“You could clean it in under ten seconds if you used magic,” John corrected.
She laughed now. “That’s true, but I’m trying to stay humble.”