by Sarah Noffke
He nodded gravely. “It was for the best. To protect you. Once the identity charm broke, well, you know since you’ve been pursued.”
“My butler at the college told me that there was information on magi-pedia.com.” Hope flickered in her voice that there was something Clark had forgotten about.
“Yes, and it would simply list that Liv was a Warrior and Stefan also,” Clark stated as though he was fully aware. “Everything else was erased.”
Paris sat now, feeling defeated suddenly. “Why? What am I supposed to do? Hide away from something I don’t know and live in confusion?”
“No,” he said at once, also sitting in a white armchair across from her. “Things will come to light in time. It’s simply that I can’t be the one to tell you.”
Paris felt tears well up in her eyes but didn’t want to cry in front of this stranger. She cleared her throat. “That’s what Mae Ling, a fairy godmother at the college said. She’s spelled too. I don’t know how to find this mystery person who can tell me the truth.”
Clark thought for a moment. “Maybe I can help with that.”
“You can?” Paris exclaimed, excitement beating in her chest.
He chewed on his lip again. “Maybe. First, I need to take you to Sophia.”
“You will?” Paris’ hopes rose. “Thank you.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be right not to,” Clark said fondly. “She’ll want to see you now that she can. I know how much it’s meant to me, finally seeing you.”
“It has?” Paris suddenly realized that her family hadn’t abandoned her. They had stayed away from her to protect her…but why? That was the question.
He looked at her with thoughtful tenderness. “I am allowed to say that I’ve missed you very much and thought of you every single day, Guinevere…Paris. Sorry. That will take some getting used to. It feels so good to see who you’ve become finally.”
“So you couldn’t even check on me?” Paris remembered that Clark had told Rudolf that they weren’t allowed to speak.
Clark simply nodded. “John has done a great job, it seems.”
That statement brought so many questions to Paris’ mind. Like, why was Uncle John the one picked to raise her? It sounded like she was somewhat safe at Clark’s place or maybe with Sophia since she was a dragonrider. Then she remembered the shop downstairs and suddenly stood, a gasp falling out of her mouth.
“Is the John’s Electronic Repair Store downstairs…It’s Uncle Johns, isn’t it?” So many threads strung together at once in her mind. Uncle John’s hobby of repairing electronics. His constant interests in magitech. A past that he never talked about.
“Paris…I wish I could tell you,” Clark said in reply.
He didn’t have to because not being able to say anything confirmed her suspicions. It occurred to Paris that if she kept asking the right questions, she’d get answers even if those around her couldn’t talk. Hopefully, Uncle Clark could help her as he’d offered with a very strong “Maybe.”
A door in the back swung open, and Paris tensed, not realizing anyone was in the place but them.
“It’s almost time for a House meeting,” a woman said in a thick Italian accent, striding into the room as she pulled on gloves. She was beautiful with her long brown hair and also distracted. She didn’t notice Paris standing in the middle of the living room until she casually glanced up. Her expression immediately shifted to shock. “Oh, dear. You look like her.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The Italian woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “The identity spell must be broken.”
Clark stood and nodded. “Yes, she knows.” He came to stand between the two women. “Alicia, this is Guinevere Beaufont, but she prefers to go by Paris.”
“It is her name,” the woman said as if this should have been obvious. She pulled off the glove she’d fitted and offered her hand, then thought better of it and hugged Paris tightly, as if they were best friends. “You are as beautiful as…”
Alicia’s mouth slammed shut, but Paris was pretty sure she was going to say, “as I remembered,” before the silencing spell kicked in.
The stranger put both her hands on Paris’ shoulders and held her at arms’ length, studying her face. “Those eyes…”
Clark smiled. “That’s how I recognized her.”
“How?” Paris felt like a watched monkey at the zoo.
“You have the Beaufont eyes,” Alicia explained.
“This is my wife,” Clark stated.
Paris remembered what Wilfred had told her. “You’re a Warrior for the House of Fourteen.”
“Yes,” Alicia replied but didn’t seem very happy about it. She gave Clark a sudden look of surprise like something suddenly occurred to her. “If she’s here, that means…”
“She’s in danger,” Clark completed her sentence.
“Do you think he knows?” Alicia asked.
“He who?” Paris looked between the two.
They ignored her. Clark sighed. “I’d suspect so. Can you take Paris to see Sophia? I need to do something.”
Alicia nodded adamantly. “Yes, and yes, you do. That’s exactly what needs to happen.”
Paris whipped her head back and forth, trying to figure out what they were talking about, speaking so covertly. “What needs to happen?”
Again not answering her question, Clark pulled out a phone and started messaging someone. “Hopefully, she’s here and not in Scotland or on a mission.”
“What’s in Scotland?” Paris glanced between them.
“The Dragon Elite’s headquarters,” Alicia answered.
Clark’s phone dinged a moment later. He glanced at it and sighed with relief. “Good, she’s here.”
“Great,” Alicia stated. “I’ll take her to the Rogue Riders’ Mansion.”
“Where is that?” Paris asked. “Is it far?”
“Beverly Hills,” Clark informed her. “We’ll have to skip today’s House meeting. Once word spreads, the Council will know why.”
“Okay, well, be careful.” Alicia gave her husband a sturdy expression.
He nodded, and Paris expected that he’d lean forward and kiss her goodbye, but he simply returned the serious expression. “You too.” Giving his attention to Paris, the look on his face shifted to pure affection. “I know this is confusing for you, but you’re not alone in this. You have never been. We are your family, and the Beaufonts have a very important phrase.”
He waved his hand at the white wall, and black cursive letters appeared. Paris mouthed the Latin as Clark spoke the words.
“Familia Est Sempiternum,” he stated with pure conviction. “It means family is forever, and nothing could be more true for the Beaufonts. We uphold justice. We fight for those who need us. More than anything, we always stick together.”
“Familia Est Sempiternum.” Paris echoed, liking the way the words rolled off her tongue.
A small smile lit up Clark’s blue eyes—the Beaufont eyes, so similar to Paris’. “I hope to see you again soon, but please be careful and return to Happily Ever After College as soon as you can.”
Before Paris could reply, Clark spun and made for the door, urgency in his every move.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In the presence of another stranger who knew Paris’ secrets but couldn’t tell her, she felt the continued nervousness in her stomach.
Alicia didn’t say a word as she led Paris to a shiny red car parked on the streets. “Unfortunately, we can’t portal to the Rogue Riders’ Mansion, but it’s not too far from here,” she finally said, breaking the silence as she started the car.
Sensing Paris’ hesitation, Alicia looked her over from the driver’s seat. “Are you okay?”
Paris studied the car’s interior, feeling like she was inside a spaceship with all the shiny buttons staring back at her. “I’ve never been in a car before.”
Alicia’s large brown eyes widened. “You haven’t… Well, yes, I guess you haven’t.”
“Ther
e aren’t cars on Roya Lane, and before a few weeks ago, I’d never left there,” Paris explained.
Alicia nodded. “No, you wouldn’t have.”
“I mean, I’ve seen them on television and stuff, but that’s about it. Uncle John has a lot of car parts around the house though, and he taught me how to change a spark plug once, so I guess I know more than I think. I’ve never ridden in a car.”
The look on Alicia’s face shifted, and she averted her eyes. “Well, I promise that I’m a good driver and your first car trip will be easy.” She pointed at something beside Paris’ right shoulder. “Put on your seat belt, and we’ll get going.”
Paris did as instructed, feeling the surrealness of the moment. She knew that she’d been sheltered living on Roya Lane but had never questioned it. Now she knew why. Spells were at work. She’d rebelled in many ways but never disobeyed Uncle John when he forbid her to use portal magic to leave Roya Lane. She only ever used it to travel from one end to the other.
When Alicia put the car into gear, it effortlessly glided along the road. Paris studied her every move as the Italian focused on the road and traffic ahead.
“Your Uncle John,” Alicia began. “How is he?”
Paris sensed a strangeness in the question. “He’s…well, this whole mess has given him so many new stresses, and I feel powerless. Someone or something murdered his secretary and ransacked his flat. I’m worried for him since something mysterious is out there, but he says he’s protected and I’m the one who needs to be careful.”
Alicia’s mouth tightened. “He’s right. John can take care of himself, and you’re the one most in danger.”
“But this thing,” Paris began, wondering what this woman who would technically be her aunt could tell her, “it might come after all of you, right? Because it’s looking for me?”
“I can’t say,” Alicia replied robotically.
Paris let out a breath, realizing that she should have expected this. “How do you know Uncle John?”
Alicia shook her head and turned onto a main road. Paris had never seen so much going on at once. The street was wide with multiple lanes and palm trees lining the sidewalk. People were everywhere, and the shops were diverse. It was so different than the cozy feel of Roya Lane.
“Can you tell me how you met Clark?” Paris attempted.
Alicia sighed with defeat. “The silencing spell is very strict.”
“Yes, apparently Uncle Clark can’t even tell me what his favorite color is,” Paris related, realizing that was the first time she’d called him that aloud and noticing how natural it felt. “But the spell is weird because King Rudolf and Lee were able to tell me small things about my parents.”
“You’re talking about two incredibly powerful magical people,” Alicia remarked. “Still, I’m sure they paid a price to tell you anything.”
Paris nodded. “Yes, King Rudolf said it would give him a sore throat.”
Alicia turned the car onto a less busy street that wound up a hill. Paris couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp when they traveled up the road lined with lush bushes and trees. At the top of the hill was a massive wrought iron gate and behind it was a giant mansion that looked like something out of a movie.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Whereas Happily Ever After College reminded Paris of a grandmother’s house, the Rogue Riders’ Mansion reminded her of a movie star’s place. The rolling green hills around the huge dwelling were so expansive and well-tended.
Alicia pulled the sports car up to the front door, which was two stories tall. The modern house had to have a few dozen rooms. A guy in strange clothing strode over as they got out of the car.
“What brings you here, Alicia?” the guy asked.
She tossed her keys at him, and he caught them in the air.
“Park this, will you?”
He gave her a look of uncertainty. “I don’t know how to drive a car.”
“You can ride a dragon,” she argued. “It’s pretty much the same thing.”
He nodded. “Okay, but you can’t get mad if I scratch the paint.”
“I can and I will,” she replied.
The guy gave Paris a strange look. “Who are you?”
“Park the car,” Alicia directed and ushered Paris to the side of the house instead of the front door as she’d figured. “Sophia will be around here most likely.”
Paris tried to keep up as the Italian hurried down a stone path alongside the building. She was so busy studying the various sights that she hardly looked where they were going. “What do the Rogue Riders do? I don’t know much about them.”
“They police the criminal world,” Alicia explained.
“Isn’t that the actual police’s job?” Paris asked, confused.
“No, they lock them up,” Alicia answered. “The Rogue Riders manage them.”
“You mean they allow them to get away with crimes?”
“There isn’t really ever stopping criminals,” Alicia stated. “So the Rogue Riders ensure they operate inside certain parameters.”
“Oh, so instead of having the criminals hide, they make everything transparent.” Paris was intrigued by the idea.
“Exactly.” Alicia turned the corner and Paris followed, but she immediately halted, not prepared for the sight before her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It had been fifteen years since Clark Beaufont had stepped foot on Roya Lane. A wave of nostalgia swept past him as he made his way down to the Fantastical Armory. The highest power had forbidden him to enter Roya Lane, but the identity charm had been broken. All rules were off—well, other than he couldn’t tell Paris anything about her parents, who she really was, and what was after her. There was only one person who could.
Clark could hardly believe that Paris knew who she was. He always knew this day would come. He’d longed for it. Only once Paris knew who she was could things change, but the timing had to be right. She had to be ready. He hoped that she was.
Paris was Liv’s child, so if anyone was up for the challenges coming up, it would be her. Seeing the long-lost child who wasn’t a child anymore had partly healed Clark’s soul. Hopefully, what happened next completely healed all the wounds.
Subner the elf looked up from his book when Clark entered. He’d pulled his long black hair back in a ponytail and wore his usual sour expression. In fifteen years, nothing had changed in the Fantastical Armory or with its shop owner. The cases were all filled with strange weapons and random artifacts. Subner sat behind one of the glass display cases as if he hadn’t moved in all that time.
“He’s been expecting you,” the elf grumbled.
Clark checked his pocket watch. “I guess I’m right on time for the meeting I didn’t know I was going to have until a few minutes ago.”
“You’re late,” Subner said. “You were supposed to leave right after Alicia showed up and you realized she could take Paris to Sophia.”
Clark sighed. “You know, it might be helpful if you tell me this stuff in the future.”
“You’d still screw it up,” Subner muttered. “Everyone always screws it up.”
Clark straightened when the figure entered from the back door of the Fantastical Armory. The hippie elf, who wasn’t an elf but merely in that form, looked Clark over. His long brown hair hung by his face, and he wore baggy jeans rolled up to the shins and a t-shirt that read: You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings. The man before Clark might appear unassuming, but he knew better. Papa Creola was one of the strongest entities alive. He was Father Time, after all.
“Papa Creola.” Clark strode forward. “You know why I’m here?”
“Yes, and why you’ll pester me the next dozen times over your lifetime,” he spat and folded his arms.
Clark shrugged off his cold bedside manner. “Paris—she knows who she is.”
“Yes, thanks to a nosy teacher at Happily Ever After College.”
“Is the timing not right?” Clark asked in a rush. “Did you see it happ
ening this way? Could you have stopped it?”
“Despite all the rumors, I don’t know everything,” Papa Creola muttered. “I see some stuff. Most of it is potentials. Who knows if the timing is right, but no, I didn’t see that Shannon Butcher would reveal to Paris who she was. Regardless of whether it’s the right time or not, it’s happened, and we have to deal with it.”
Hope fluttered in Clark’s chest. “Then that means we can finally bring them back.”
Papa Creola rolled his eyes. For one of the oldest entities on Earth, he wasn’t the most mature and definitely not very patient. “We can’t do anything. You’ve always known there was no guarantee.”
“You orchestrated all of this,” Clark argued. “We all went along with it. Now—”
“This was always about protecting Paris,” Papa Creola interrupted.
“Then you have to tell her the truth,” Clark said adamantly. “She’s confused, and none of the rest of us can say anything.”
“Because otherwise you all would have by now and ruined everything,” Papa Creola replied dryly.
“She deserves to know the truth now that she’s learned her identity,” Clark fired back.
“I’ll tell her when the time is right.”
Clark’s face burned hot. “When will that be?”
“When I decide!” Papa Creola exclaimed.
Clark nearly jumped back, surprised by Papa Creola’s reaction. Subner, the assistant to Father Time, simply looked up as if he was bored by this exchange.
“She’s in danger,” Clark said in a low voice.
“Knowing the truth isn’t going to lessen that,” Papa Creola stated.
“It might,” Clark countered. “It might keep her from investigating and getting herself in trouble. It might give her hope. It might—”
“It might give her false hope, and that’s exactly what will get her killed,” Papa Creola interrupted. “When the time is right, when she’s ready, if she’s ready, I will tell her. Until then, you will not interfere.”