by Sarah Noffke
Liv pulled the Warrior ring from her pocket, eyeing the huge piece of jewelry. “When do you want to make our attempt?”
Clark looked back at her, catching her meaning. “Soon. When you’re done with this favor for Rudolf. It wouldn’t be good to make a fae wait. They can decide on a whim that you didn’t fulfill your end of the bargain fast enough and put you in servitude.”
For some reason, Liv didn’t think that Rudolf would do that. He wanted her to retrieve what was at the bottom of the fountain. However, she didn’t argue with Clark. Opening the Ancient Chamber would have to wait until they had a better chance. A part of her worried that it would trigger an alarm when they opened the chamber. It was crucial that no one knew they were collecting information or find out what they knew already. Liv wouldn’t be able to handle losing anyone else.
“Have you ever heard of a mortal knowing about magic?” Liv dared to ask Clark in the open area, only because he’d put a silencing spell around them.
Clark glanced around as if he were afraid that someone could still hear them, then shook his head. “It doesn’t even seem possible. Do you trust Rudolf?”
Liv hesitated before responding, “He is pretty scummy, but yes. He has no reason to lie about this, and it meshes with the missing history that Rory learned.”
Clark let out a weighty breath. “This is getting bigger. With the canisters and what Bermuda told you, I worry that what we learn may not be something we’re going to like.”
“When we search for the facts, it can’t be about finding what we want. It’s about discovering the truth. I’m committed to finding that, whether it changes nothing or ruins everything.”
“Or shatters the very foundation of the House of Seven,” Clark added morbidly, repeating what she’d learned from Haro.
Liv didn’t want to think about that. Maybe if the oracle hadn’t referred so specifically to her, it wouldn’t be so difficult to dismiss.
“I don’t understand why the prophecy couldn’t have said an uptight Councilor who wears too much hair gel shattered the very foundation of the House of Seven,” she remarked as they browsed.
Clark gave her an incredulous glare. “I don’t wear too much hair gel.”
“You absolutely do,” Liv argued. “But enough about you. Tell me about the elves and Decar.”
Clark paused, his eyes shifting back and forth with indecision.
“Come on,” Liv urged. “I understand that Warriors aren’t supposed to know about the things Councilors do, but I’ve told you all this other stuff.”
“This other stuff isn’t House business,” Clark said in a whisper. “These are secrets that no one is supposed to know, apparently.”
“Just tell me about the elves,” Liv argued.
“Tell me about you and Stefan,” Clark countered.
Liv hitched up her hip, clapping her hand on it. “There’s nothing to tell. We hunted demons. Now I’m in between cases.”
“The council still doesn’t have anything for you,” Clark said. “I daresay they don’t really know what to do with you at this point. Maybe there is a wild dragon that needs taming, or a comet heading toward Earth that you could stop.”
“Ha-ha. I think that half the Councilors didn’t expect me to return with all my limbs,” Liv joked.
Clark agreed with a nod. “That’s because they don’t know that you have insider information about the giants. Adler is sure that it was luck, although Bianca checked the treaty you brought back for forgery.”
“Oh, I would have liked to have seen her face when she realized it was really Chief Dag’s signature,” Liv stated.
“I’m serious about Stefan,” Clark urged. “There was something off about him before, and now he seems different. Not as bad, but there is still something strange about him.”
Liv tucked her chin and pretended to read a book about the various pieces of artwork hanging in the House of Seven.
Clark placed his hand on the book, pushing it down. “Liv, we promised no secrets.”
Pulling the book to her chest, Liv shook her head. “It’s not my secret to tell, and really of no consequence to you. Otherwise, I’d tell you.”
Clark didn’t appear satisfied by this answer, but he let it go. “Fine. And I’m not sure what good it would do for you to know about the elves. It was just a one-off altercation. It’s unclear what triggered it, but Decar said he was defending himself.”
“And in doing so, he killed how many elves?” Liv asked.
“Five.”
“And that spoiled the negotiations between the House and the elves?”
Clark massaged his temples like he had a sudden headache. “Things weren’t ideal in the first place. You two killing Sabatore did help, but still. More and more of the magical community is starting to distrust the House.”
Liv laughed darkly. “That’s because we bully everyone. We ignore looting goblins because we have a certain agreement with them. We punish trolls for simply being lost. And we treat our own kind with cruelty for not conforming to laws.”
“That’s how it works, Liv,” Clark stated. “When someone breaks the law, they are punished.”
“Has it occurred to you that us registering our magic is wrong?”
“It’s a necessary control,” Clark argued.
“Why? Because some jerk magician said so?” Liv asked.
“When someone disobeys the law, it’s easier to stop them if they are registered,” Clark explained.
Liv gave him a cold stare. “Yes, and that works great in a system that isn’t corrupt. However, when the House has absolute power, who is keeping us in check?”
Clark pointed at her. “You are.”
She shook her head and strode away, tired of the same old, same old discussion with her brother. However, there was something that had been bothering her so deeply lately despite all the new revelations that she felt like it was about to burst out of her. She spun around to face her brother.
“There can be no law without sympathy. Justice can’t happen without peace in the laws,” Liv stated with real conviction in her voice.
She’d gotten Clark’s attention now.
“These arbitrary laws don’t protect us, which is what they are supposed to do,” Liv stated. “They control us, and that’s completely different. Our community, and the gnomes and the elves, and especially the giants, aren’t at peace. We are simply existing, and sidestepping around each other. Everyone is afraid of us. You’d see that if you set foot in Roya Lane. We’re the police force, so no one wants to piss us off. But if this system actually worked, it would help us all to thrive. It would bring everyone together instead of creating divisions.”
Liv was almost certain that Clark was going to roll his eyes at her after this monologue, so she was surprised when he simply smiled.
“If you ever have a chance, repeat those words verbatim at a meeting with the Seven,” Clark stated. “I have a feeling that’s exactly what many are thinking but are unable to voice.”
“But why?” Liv questioned. “Why doesn’t anyone stand up for anything around here?”
“I don’t know,” Clark said, appearing defeated. “Because it’s hard. Because we don’t want to create friction or be cast out. Because those who do are punished. Because it doesn’t do any good.”
Liv fumed, her fury making her ears hot. “That’s such bullshit.”
“I agree,” Clark said, pulling out a book. “But you don’t seem to care about any of that.”
“Why would I care if I pissed off Adler?” Liv challenged.
“Because then he will find a way to assign you deadly cases,” Clark explained. “Who knows what else he’s got in the works for you? All I know is that those who opposed him in the past didn’t do it for long.”
Liv was about to protest when Clark’s eyes widened as he read through the book in his hand. “I think this is it.”
Liv grabbed the book out of his hands, scanning the page he had opened. “You’re righ
t, this explains about the garden.”
Clark pointed to halfway down the page. “More importantly, there’s information on the fountain.”
“A mermaid?” Liv said with disbelief, reading. “That’s what in the fountain? How is that even possible?”
Clark pressed into her, trying to read the book over her shoulder. “Because look, the fountain isn’t as shallow as it appears to be.”
Liv knew that from the one time she’d accidentally fallen in there. She had sunk for what felt like a long time before her father pulled her out. “It’s thirty feet deep! How am I supposed to find the thing that Rudolf wants?”
Clark who had obviously skimmed the entire page already, pointed to the sentence at the bottom of the page. “It should be easy to find it.”
Liv’s eyes ran over the place where he indicated and read, “The mermaid guards only one thing.”
“So you just have to find out what she’s guarding and take that,” Clark said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, while I’m breathing underwater,” Liv joked. “That sounds totally easy.”
“It’s a mermaid,” Clark reasoned. “They are sweet, and sing songs to sailors. How hard can this be?”
“If it wasn’t hard, Rudolf would have done it himself,” Liv reasoned.
Clark shook his head. “No, because he can’t come into the House of Seven. He needs you to do it. So you dive into the fountain, take what the mermaid is swimming around, and then you get out of there.”
Liv gave him an uncertain expression. “Something tells me it’s not going to be that easy.”
Clark shrugged. “Want to search for a book on mermaids?”
Liv shook her head. “I actually already have a book that will tell me a lot.”
“Oh, Mysterious Creatures,” Clark guessed. “Yeah, I’m sure that will have some useful information. Let’s see what it says.”
Liv pushed the volume about the gardens in the House of Seven into Clark’s hands and withdrew Mysterious Creatures from her robe. She was unsurprised when the small book opened to the chapter on mermaids. The image on the next page nearly made her drop the book. Even though it was only an illustration, for a moment it appeared real enough to jump off the page for some reason.
The mermaids depicted in the book didn’t have a sweet smile and beautiful hair cascading over her shoulders. Mermaids were ugly, with seaweed hair, large squinty eyes, and sharp teeth and claws.
“That’s a mermaid?” Clark asked, again reading over Liv’s shoulder.
“Yeah, and she doesn’t look like a reasonable creature I can simply negotiate with,” Liv stated.
“No, she looks hungry.”
Liv slapped the book shut, having read the short description on mermaids and found it not entirely helpful. Knowing that they preferred cold salt water and small spaces didn’t give her any great ideas about how to deal with the creature. Their hunting and sleeping patterns would have been slightly useful, except Liv knew right away she wasn’t dealing with a regular mermaid. Most were found in the ocean, but this one was confined to a solitary tank, seemingly designed for it.
“What are you going to do?” Clark asked, reading the determination on her face.
“I’m going to get help from an expert.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“If you know anything about mermaids, tell me now and save us the trouble of this trip,” Liv encouraged Plato as they approached Rory’s house.
“I know that they don’t share very well, and prefer young men over older ones,” he stated.
“I don’t think that tidbit of knowledge is as helpful as you may believe,” Liv said.
“I once spent some time on a boat that sailed into mermaid-infested waters,” Plato explained, strolling beside her with his tail high in the air.
“What happened?”
“I survived,” Plato answered simply.
“Shocking. Thanks for the spoiler alert. And what about the passengers and crew aboard?”
“They lasted longer than I would have expected,” Plato explained. “We floated into dense fog, and by the time we came out on the other side, the ship was quickly sinking to the bottom of the ocean.”
“You didn’t learn much about mermaids from that, I gather.”
“I learned that those who stand by the edge of the ship go overboard first. And I also learned that almost everyone goes overboard eventually.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to need more information.” Liv stopped, eyeing Plato. “This ship you were on… Would I have heard of it?”
Plato’s eyes slid to the side.
“Was this the Titanic?” Liv asked.
Right on cue, Plato disappeared. Once again, Liv assumed it was her question, but she also noticed that the kittens were playing in Rory’s yard. She laughed to herself. “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes, Plato. And here everyone thought it was an iceberg that took down the ocean liner.”
She was pretty sure that Plato could rewrite the history books by himself.
The kittens all came charging to her feet when she stepped into the yard. She knew there was a magical fence that kept them in the yard since Junebug was always trying to escape. However, she’d never seen the other nine kittens in the front yard like this.
Leaning over, she scratched a few of the closest kittens on their heads while the others fought to get her attention. “What are you guys doing outside? Outgrowing the house, are you?”
A few of them meowed in response. Liv smiled at them before starting off again for the house. Strangely, the door didn’t open in response to her presence. She knocked, expecting for the door to slide back and grant her entry. Liv waited a full minute before knocking again. When that went unanswered, she began to worry and tried the handle, which turned.
She pushed opened the door a crack, but the kittens pressed their heads against the door, pushing it open farther as they charged past her into the house.
“Rory?” Liv called, peeking into the living room. It was quiet, and even stranger, it was sparkling clean. Literally. Sparkles radiated off the dining room table and floors like they’d been polished for hours. When she took a step into the house, her boot made a squeaky noise.
“So this is squeaky-clean,” Liv muttered to herself.
“And another thing,” Bermuda’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Tomatoes go on the countertop, not in the refrigerator—not that you should be eating too much food from the nightshade family. You know it gives you gas.”
“I know that, Mum,” Rory groaned from somewhere in the house.
“And another thing—what are the kittens doing back in the house?!” Bermuda yelled.
Liv’s eyes widened as the rest plowed through the open door. She bent over, grabbing up a handful of them, their little claws scratching her forearm as they tried to escape. She was about to put them out the door when thunderous footsteps advanced in her direction.
Bermuda came around the corner of the dining room as Liv straightened, holding three kittens in her clutches, the rest having sought refuge under the sofa.
“What have you done?” Bermuda yelled, her round face red with frustration. “I just cleaned this place, and those little mess-makers have already tracked dirt all over the house again.”
Liv backed up to the floor mat in front of the door, holding the kittens tighter, sort of afraid for her life as she stared up at the red-faced giant.
“And you!” Bermuda continued. “Were you raised in a barn? You’ve still got your boots on inside the house. Don’t you know any better, child?!”
Liv tried to open the door with her elbows as she worked to take off one boot using her opposite heel. The visual had to be ridiculous, she thought, but the menacing look Bermuda was giving her couldn’t be ignored. Liv had faced demons and giant snakes and many other monsters, but none of them inspired the fear in her that Bermuda did.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” Liv stuttered, one of the kittens sidling from her grasp and sprinting for t
he back bedroom.
Bermuda simply stared at her, her lips forming a hard line.
“I’ll clean it up,” Liv continued. When she got the door open, the other two kittens leaped from her arms, scrambling madly for the kitchen. Not deterred, Liv pulled off her boots, smiling broadly as she turned around to face the giant. Her eyes followed Bermuda’s, and she quickly realized the damage had already been done. A huge clump of dirt sat a few feet from the mat, looking like the biggest piece of debris in the world on the pristine floor.
“What’s going on?” Rory asked, striding into the living room from the back. Junebug was on his shoulder. The kitten sprang free, dropping onto the couch, where he wrestled with pillows, making a mess of the furniture.
Liv couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from her mouth at the sight of the giant. His usually chaotic curly hair was neatly parted down the middle and slicked back. Even stranger, he was wearing a starched white shirt buttoned all the way to his neck, and suspenders and khakis and loafers.
He rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides, exasperated. “Oh, no, you didn’t.”
“She did,” Bermuda said, tapping her foot impatiently.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t… I’ll clean up the mess I made,” Liv said, raising her hand.
Bermuda shook her head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Your brand of magic will only make things look worse. Magicians are the worst with cleaning spells.”
Liv’s eyes darted to Rory for help. He shook his head minutely.
“Actually, I think that goblins are worst housekeepers,” Liv said. “They literally sweep everything under the rug with their magic, which ironically doesn’t work very well since they don’t have rugs, so all the dirt ends up piled up in the middle of the floors of their huts.”
Rory sighed deeply.
Bermuda nodded at her son. “I agree, your apprentice doesn’t know when to be quiet.”
“Apprentice?” Liv questioned.
“It’s a problem that magicians have,” Bermuda continued. “They like to hear themselves talk, although they should spend more time listening if they are ever going to be of any use to this planet.”