by Sarah Noffke
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The smell that spilled out of the Ancient Chamber was reminiscent of something, but Liv couldn’t put her finger on it. She would have expected must or dust or other old smells, but this was different. It was like moss, and grass, and other things that reminded her of her childhood. For some reason, these smells filled Liv with hope and pride. It made her want to charge forward, unafraid of what she was about to find.
She grabbed Clark by the hand and pulled him forward. He didn’t need much encouragement.
They moved together, taking each step as one. And in truth, that was how Warriors and Councilors were supposed to operate: as one entity that presided over different areas of the House. She’d seen the epitome of this with her parents while she was growing up. However, this was the first time she had felt it. Clark was her other half. He was the uptight version of her. The tense to her calm. The practical side to her spontaneity. And Liv was the passion to his reservation. She was the fire to his cool. They were one, two parts of a whole.
When they stepped into the darkness, the wall shut behind them suddenly, making them spin around. For a moment they were in complete darkness, and then torches lit around them one by one, illuminating a room much larger than she would have expected.
Suddenly Liv felt like she was in an Egyptian tomb, looking around at the oldest carvings in the world as she studied the walls. They were full of more symbols that danced, but none of them seemed to be of major importance to her, although she wasn’t sure why.
Liv wasn’t sure what she had been expecting when they entered this area. It wasn’t lavish or full of gems or glittering with golds and riches. This wasn’t beautiful like the hallway in the entry to the House of Seven. It was dark and mysterious, but for some reason, she felt like she’d been here a million times. Maybe in her dreams? And then there were those smells… They were full of nostalgia and it pushed her forward, triggering a voice that said, “You’re safe. Go on, my child.”
Liv spun in a circle, trying to figure out what she was missing as she studied the domed room. It seemed to be telling her its secrets, but she wasn’t sure she understood the message.
So she took another step, which made the torches grow brighter, illuminating more of the room. The area was similar to the Chamber of the Tree, except it was bigger. Different. And there was only one thing there she realized when they came to the middle of the circular area: a list of words in the ancient language, written in bold ink that glowed brighter than the torches.
She was about to step forward to decipher the words when the floor shook.
On the ground, blue and green spots like the ones in the Chamber of the Tree illuminated. However, there were more than seven. Like on her ring, fourteen spots shone.
They must represent the Warriors and the Councilors, she thought.
As if cued by her understanding, the tree she’d been accustomed to seeing in the Chamber with the Seven illuminated, its branches reaching out over the domed roof. The words that painted themselves on the ceiling were ones she’d studied a hundred times: Together we are strong and balanced.
“What does it say?” Clark asked, looking up at the brand-new words.
Liv gave him a scrutinizing look. “You can’t read it?”
He shook his head.
She slipped the ring off, and the words were just ancient symbols. She realized that she was starting to understand the language. These were words she’d read many times and now understood in the founder’s language.
Running the ring over the symbols, the words popped up, showing the message: Together we are strong and balanced.
“Oh, wow,” Clark said. “What do you think it means?”
Liv shook her head, feeling as if she were being pushed forward. “I don’t think that’s what we’re here to see.” She pointed to the wall in front of them with the symbols glowing brightly. “I think that’s it.”
He agreed with a nod, and they each took a step forward.
This wall had small and large symbols, some in blue and the rest in gold. The ones in gold were divided into two columns. As before, Liv ran her ring over the first column, finding what she’d been hoping for. It was the list of the Founder families’ names:
Sinclair
Beaufont
Takahashi
There were four other names she didn’t recognize, which was strange. She continued to run the ring over the rest of the names.
“Why are there fourteen names?” Clark asked.
Liv scanned the ring over the words to the right of each family name. Down the first column, she found the same thing inscribed beside them all—Magicians.
Sinclair—Magician
Beaufont—Magician
Takahashi—Magician
She then ran the ring over the symbols beside the second column, but what it illuminated wasn’t what she expected. Beside the other seven names was the word Mortals.
Liv spun to face Clark, her heart pounding wildly. “Oh, my God! I know what they’ve been hiding.”
His face said that he’d seen the ring interpret the ancient language and understood. “Yes, and this is bigger than I could have even conceived.”
Liv could barely speak. Her throat twice tried to close up, and her heart jumped into her mouth. She swallowed. Took a breath. Felt her mother beside her.
“Clark, it was never the House of Seven.” Liv found it hard to breathe suddenly, but finally, she inhaled raggedly. “The House was created as a partnership to balance magic. ‘Together we are strong and balanced.’”
He nodded, dazed. “The House of Seven is actually the House of Fourteen, made up of both magicians and mortals.”
Liv couldn’t believe it, but the evidence was clearly written on the wall in the ancient language—and it made absolute sense. She looked at Clark, pure conviction in her eyes. “You know what we have to do now?”
She hadn’t always understood her older brother, but right then, she knew they were aligned. He narrowed his eyes, determination strong in his gaze. “We have to find the mortals who used to be a part of this House and reinstate balance. We have to finish what Mom and Dad started.”
Liv nodded. She couldn’t have said it better herself.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Indikos always accompanied Adler on his trips to the Black Void. It wasn’t that he felt unsafe around the God Magician, but it made him feel better to have an ally if the One was in a bad mood. It hadn’t been long since he had awoken him, and Adler knew the God Magician was still grouchy, although that wasn’t the right term for an ancient magician who had been asleep for many, many years.
“Father,” Adler called to the mostly white magician who slumped in his throne. It wasn’t Adler’s father, but rather his father’s father’s father. “How do you feel?”
The God Magician stirred, making the wind howl in Adler’s ears. “I need more time. My strength is still building.”
“I understand,” he said in a consoling manner. “But I wanted to assure you that things are going according to plan.”
He pulled the giants’ sword from his back, releasing the enchantments that had kept it hidden. The full sword lit up in the dark chamber, which was full of bones and broken potion bottles. Cracks lined the wall, which mostly allowed the cold a place to come in, but they also allowed the God Magician a way out of his chamber. He’d been the one to brainwash Raina Ludwig. He’d had his hand in much lately, and it worried Adler. He wanted what his father wanted, but things were getting out of control. So many had already died, and he believed that was only the beginning. Hiding the truth had gotten exponentially more difficult.
“Set it on my lap,” the God Magician said.
His skin was transparent and his long white hair was draped on the floor, curling around and around. When he opened his eyes, the two orbs of light shone brightly, nearly blinding Adler.
He shielded his face as the God Magician rested his hands on the giants’ sword.
&
nbsp; “I figured it would be safest here,” Adler said, trying to blink away the burning in his eyes from the light.
A loud clattering filled the Black Void and Adler stumbled back. The sword knocked into him, the hilt hitting him across the calves, knocking him to the floor.
“That’s not Turbinger,” the God Magician said, his voice filling Adler’s head.
“What do you mean?” Adler asked. “Of course it is.”
The oldest magician in the world rose off his throne and bore down on Adler. “No, that’s a fake. You’ve lost the real one.”
“No, that’s impossible. God Magician, I promise that I did everything you told me to.”
“You’ve failed me,” the first Sinclair said, his voice vibrating with ancient evil. “The truth is out there, and the girl will uncover it unless you stop her. We can’t allow the prophecy to come to pass.”
Adler stumbled back and straightened up. “I’ve got plans for her. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know anything. I’ve made sure of it.”
“What of her mother’s ring?”
Adler shook his head. “She died with it on.”
“Are you sure?”
“Guinevere always wore her ring,” Adler assured him. “And even if this is a replica, it just means the one in the Natural History Museum was the wrong one. The real one was probably destroyed long ago.”
“You idiot!” the God Magician said. “Don’t ruin everything. Ensure that there is no trail. It will soon be my time to rise. I will not have you lose it all for me.”
Adler threw himself down, kneeling to the strongest power he’d ever known. “Do not worry, my Lord. I promise.”
Before Adler was a person so powerful he’d never oppose him, but he was also fearful of what would happen when the God Magician came back into his full power.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The flowers in Liv’s hands reminded her of her childhood. Lilies. They had been her mother’s favorite. The sweet scent wafted up to her nose, fueled by the Santa Ana winds.
She kept her head down as she strode through the cemetery. It had been five long years since she had been here, and suddenly she felt her younger self striding beside her, as if she’d crossed into a time/space continuum where all versions of herself existed.
This is long overdue, Liv thought when she spotted the tombstone.
Liv had been avoiding finding this closure and never would have realized that it would have come like this. When she was only two feet from her parents’ grave, Liv halted, the tears seeking to burst out of her.
She took a deep breath. Tightened her hands around the flowers. Felt something so deep and yearning within her. All these years she’d missed her parents badly. The pain was always there when she woke in the morning and realized they were gone. When she laid down at night and knew they wouldn’t be there in the morning when she awoke. When she had a victory and realized she couldn’t tell them about it. Every moment was etched by their absence. They were the best part of who she was, and yet they were gone. It didn’t make any sense, but Liv now understood things so much better than she had before.
Clearing her throat, she read the words that marked their shared tombstone: Together in Life. Together in Love. Here Lie Two Souls Intertwined Forever: Warrior and Councilor.
Liv laid the flowers she’d brought on her parents’ grave and backed up two feet.
“Mom. Dad,” she began, interrupted by a crow cawing somewhere in the trees.
“Mom and Dad,” she started again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I abandoned the House of… I’m sorry I abandoned our family. It’s just that without you, I forgot who I was. I didn’t want to be what you made me, and yet, since I’ve stepped back into your life, all I know how to do is what you taught me. I’m stronger than I ever was. I’m strong like you, Mommy, as if I feel your courage beating in my soul. And I hear your wisdom at every turn, Daddy.”
The tears that broke free of Liv’s eyes made the pain somehow more bearable. “I thought that running would make it easier, but I was wrong. Embracing my role as Warrior has brought me closer to you than I ever thought possible. Losing you will never be tolerable, but now I realize how ridiculous it was to distance myself from my family. It is only now that I feel a chance to be whole again one day.”
The tears came down freely, falling down Liv’s cheeks, soaking her cape, and blinding her. She fell down to her hands and knees, dropping her head, vibrating with ache.
“I love you more than anything,” she cried, hardly able to breathe. “I miss you every damn day, but I know now why you risked everything.”
Liv swallowed, feeling a renewed sense of hope. She lifted her chin. “I know what you died trying to uncover, and I won’t let it be in vain. I will find the truth and reveal it for all. I will restore everything to what it once was. Somehow I’ll take up your mission and restore balance to the House of Fourteen.”
The story continues with THE LOYAL FRIEND, coming soon. Join the email list to be notified when book five is available.
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Sarah’s Author Notes
March 24, 2019
Thank you to you, the reader, for reading the books and supporting the series. The other day I got a review from a reader who wanted to be Facebook friends with Liv. That was one awesome compliment. At times I like to think I’m her and you all want to be my friend, however, I’m not nearly as bad ass—at all.
Last night I woke up at my normal “witching hour” at around three o’clock in the morning. Many spiritual gurus think that this is when we’re “awoken” by the universe because it’s the quietest time during the day. Spirit or inspiration or whatever we want to call it is trying to send a message. Rumi, the great poet, said, “The morning breeze has secrets to tell you. Do not go back to sleep.”
I listened to the poet while writing many books and actually wrote my first series, the Lucidites, between three and five o’clock in the morning. My infant would then wake up at six and I’d realize how very wrong Rumi was. But also so very right. I’ve had some awesome ideas during the “witching hour.”
This is when you begin to wonder what the eff I’m getting to. Hold on. I’m almost there.
So I woke up today at three o’clock in the morning. This is when I usually check emails and messages, many of which I’ll forget I’ve looked at during this ungodly hour, and then later forget to respond to them when it’s a descent time of day. I need better work habits.
Anyway, this morning, I thought that inspiration had woken me up yet again when I heard a bump downstairs. The noise had woken me up. Not inspiration.
Unlike Liv Beaufont, I totally tensed. That’s when I pictured the absolute worst, which is how my convoluted brain works. I imagined that the drug cartel had broken into my house because... A masked murderer had gotten so bold as to break into my house because… The hoodlums down the street were downstairs, wishing they’d broken into a house with electronics from this century. As the potential realities poured through my brain, the loud noises outside my bedroom continued.
I armed myself with the many weapons I keep in my bedroom. I can’t tell you what those are because a Warrior never discloses her secrets. Anyway, I was about to yank back my door to assault this evil-doer, when I realized how much I wasn’t like Liv Beaufont. I’m certain that when facing actual danger, I’d not swing the sword properly or thrust kick the jerk in the chest or do any of the awesome things that Liv does.
Accepting this reality, I pulled back the door to find my cat had taken a liking to the laundry basket and was thrusting his head against it, making it knock into the wall beside my bedroom.
So the good news was there was no masked murderer downstairs. The bad news was that my cat has the same affliction as me during the wee hours of the night.
I might not be Liv Beaufont, but I’ve got the cat who inspired Plato and although he doesn’t talk, I’m pretty sure he’s plotting to end my short reign of sanity.
Speaking of
plotting, Michael had many of the great ideas for the end of this arc. The graveyard scene was something he was passionate about when we were discussing this book and I think it worked really well to end the arc right. Also, the last scene with Adler was something he really thought would round out the book. It’s that kind of collaborating that I believe is keeping this series going strong and I hope continues for a long, long time.
Michael’s Author Notes
March 25, 2019
THANK YOU for not only reading this story but these Author Notes as well.
(I think I’ve been good with always opening with “thank you.” If not, I need to edit the other Author Notes!)
RANDOM (sometimes) THOUGHTS?
So, I’m reading Sarah’s notes, and I get to this line:
“This is when you begin to wonder what the eff I’m getting to. Hold on.
I’m almost there.”
But, the first time I read that, I read ‘eff’ as ‘elf’ and had a slight concern starting that Sarah was starting to play footsies with the unreality on the other side of her stories.
Was Sarah starting to live LIV?
Then, of course, I read she meant the word which also could mean horizontal Olympics, not the girl with pointed ears and all was right with the world.
For a moment.
It’s Sarah, one should never assume the world is right around her - it’s just how she rolls.
As a collaborator, what else would I want?
Sarah can claim that she is a scaredy cat (and perhaps she is) but she didn’t hide UNDER the covers, she found Batman’s weapons (see, totally shared your weapon stash) and then proceeded to walk over and whack-the-shit out of her loving and faithful cat.