by Sarah Noffke
“Um, can I just get a bottle?” Sophia replied.
The look of offense on the waitress’s face called everyone’s attention to them. The hippies in the drum circle actually quieted for a moment, all of them looking in her direction.
“Did I say bottle?” Sophia teased with a fake laugh. “I’ll take a glass.”
“And Mother Nature will have to wash that glass,” the waitress countered. “Is that what you want?”
“Mama Jamba doesn’t do dishes, I can assure you,” Sophia told the waitress. Based on the look on her face, the girl wasn’t at all amused.
Sophia glared at Rudolf, blaming him for the headache that would result from hanging out in this place. “I meant, poured into my hand like I’m drinking out of a stream, obviously.”
“Make it two,” Rudolf chimed in with a toothy grin.
“Good choice. I’ll bring a pail of water for the table,” the waitress said, pivoting at once and waltzing for the back.
“Okay, well, I suppose we better figure out what we’re having because the more I talk to that woman, the further her life expectancy goes down.” Sophia opened a handwritten menu that entirely lacked protein options. Hiker would definitely murder someone if he was there. She knew Mae Ling had told her to eat desserts, but after skipping breakfast, she really wanted something more substantial.
When she’d picked out the lesser of the anemic options from the menu, Sophia closed it to find the waitress, who was probably named Moonbeam or something, putting a metal pail of water on their table with a wooden ladle.
“Wow, you weren’t joking,” Sophia said, looking at the water sloshing back and forth in the pail. “When we order, do you throw it straight on the table, or do we eat out of a trough?”
Moonbeam didn’t seem to think that was funny. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yeah, I’ll have the quinoa salad,” Sophia replied.
“With bad karma or good karma dressing?”
“Um…what’s the difference?” she asked, knowing she’d regret it.
“Bad karma is full fat and good karma is not.”
Sophia nodded. Exactly as she’d expected. “Just surprise me. I like to live on the wild side.”
“And I’ll have the burger,” Rudolf stated and handed over the menus.
“Over there,” the waitress said, pointing to the far wall where there was a stack of cards, “you’ll find a place where you can record your gratitude list for the day. Only write down that which has made your present self sing today.”
“What about my future self?” Sophia wanted to know. “Because I’m certain that future me would really look forward to putting someone in a chokehold.”
Moonbeam lowered her chin. “I think someone could really use some time in the inner peace circle.” She pointed to another corner where a triangle was drawn on the floor, surrounded by candles.
“That’s a…you know what, never mind.” Sophia waved her off. “Geometry is hard. I get it.”
“Geometry isn’t real,” the waitress said quietly. “The same men who want you to believe in things like thermometers invented that conspiracy.”
“Thermometers are real,” Sophia argued.
Moonbeam laughed. “Yeah, like anyone could record the temperature. It is what it is, regardless of what we think it is.”
Sophia’s eyes widened in horror as the waitress went back to the kitchen to praise the spices for being their true selves or whatever. “I didn’t think it possible, but that woman is dumber than you, Rudolf.”
“Thank you,” he said good-naturedly.
“Anyway, about your idea regarding turning the dragon eggshells into potions,” Sophia began. “I’ve been able to locate a person who can make them for us. I just need to round up the left-over shells and bring them here once we meet with her and figure out the terms of the agreement.”
“Cool, so we do a ninety to ten split with me taking the majority, right?” he asked, ladling water into his cupped hand where it seeped through his fingers and landed on the table.
“Let’s try fifty-fifty, and you do all the work after the initial consult,” Sophia replied. “I’ll provide the eggshells.”
“Not so fast, little Sophia,” he countered. “How about I take forty, and you pay for lunch?”
Moonbeam arrived with two plates of overly colorful food. They looked like a unicorn had thrown up and bedazzled the plates with rainbows. “You don’t actually have to pay if you don’t want to. We operate solely on donations.”
Sophia gave Rudolf an annoyed expression. “Don’t take any pages out of this business’s book. We have a great product, and I intend us to charge for it.”
He nodded as he gave his veggie burger a disappointed expression. “Do you have any mustard?” Rudolf asked the waitress.
She motioned with her hand as though sprinkling something. “No, but I’ve got a dash of love. That’s much better for you than condiments.”
When she’d left, Sophia grinned at Rudolf. “Not as excited about this place anymore, are you?”
“I want to be,” he argued, picking up the burger and taking a bite. Looking as though it was hard to chew and swallow, he put it down and pushed it away. “The meat in this tastes weird.”
“That’s because it’s not meat.” She eyed her salad with similar unease.
“Does this place have to be Forever Vegan?” he asked. “Could it be Sometimes Vegan instead?”
“I don’t think that’s how they operate,” Sophia told him as the waitress brought what might or might not be the check.
“What’s this?” Sophia asked, looking at the small slip of paper with a small dream catcher on top of it.
“That’s our suggested donation amount,” she answered. “As well as our complimentary dream catcher souvenir because we want all your dreams to come true.”
“That’s not what those are for,” Sophia remarked, remembering learning about the Native American items. “They are for—”
“Reminding us the spirit world is just on the other side of the web,” Moonbeam interrupted.
“Yep,” Sophia chirped. “That’s what I was about to say.”
“I know,” the waitress said in a breathy voice.
When she’d gone, and neither had touched their food again, Sophia glanced up at Rudolf. “Want to go somewhere we can get something loaded with lard, MSG, and sugar?”
He stood at once. “Do I ever! I don’t see how the Captains have been vegan for so long. The last hour has literally doomed my spirit.”
Sophia shook her head and rose from the booth. She glanced around at the hippies doing strange things. “If we stay here much longer, my spirit will undoubtedly be doomed.”
Chapter Fourteen
The Rose Apothecary was a beautiful store. The products were artfully arranged, and an enchanting aroma filled the air. The small shop was light and bright with a gentle humming in the background.
Sophia gave Rudolf a look of warning as he reached for a small decorative crystal rose sitting on a shelf next to an assortment of tinctures. “Don’t touch anything.”
He yanked his hand back, a shameful expression on his face. “I’m not a child, you know.”
She lowered her chin and regarded him under hooded eyes. “What did you just say to me out on Roya Lane?”
He thought for a moment. “Would you kindly remove your arm from around my neck?”
“Before that,” she urged, her eyes fluttering with annoyance.
“Would you not walk so close to me, Soph. You have gross cooties.”
She fired her finger gun at him. “That was it.”
He brushed off his tunic with a dignified expression. “It gave you the excuse to do exactly what you’ve been longing to and put your hands on me.”
“You wish,” she stated as a woman brushed into the room from the back, not seeming to notice the pair. The magician had short gray hair and was the source of the humming. She went straight to work, straightening various
products and lining them up with thoughtful precision.
She wore a long black dress and a no-nonsense expression on her face.
“Excuse me,” Sophia began, leaning forward.
“For what?” the woman asked, looking up. She didn’t appear to be surprised to find the two there in her shop, although she hadn’t acknowledged them.
“Oh, I was just trying to get your attention.” Sophia felt suddenly scolded by the magician.
“Then you say hello like a reasonable person would.”
Sophia cut her eyes to Rudolf and gave him a reluctant expression. She returned her gaze to the store owner. “Hello. I’m looking for Bep, the potions expert.”
“And you are?” the woman replied.
“I’m Sophia, a dragonrider for the Elite, and this is King Rudolf Sweetwater.”
The woman went back to straightening the products on the shelf. “If you think titles will grant you any favors from me, then you are sadly mistaken.”
Sophia paused, rethinking her approach with this person. “We don’t want favors—”
“She doesn’t speak for me, actually,” Rudolf interrupted.
Sophia gave him a punishing look before glancing at the woman. “I was told you could help me with a few different potions that we need. We will, of course, pay you for them.”
Bep spun and marched for the back room, giving Sophia the impression the conversation was over.
“I’m listening,” the potions expert called, as though she was waiting for Sophia to continue and was annoyed she hadn’t yet.
“Oh, right,” Sophia said loudly to be heard from the back. “Well, we need three potions. One that is made from dragon eggshells and has healing attributes. Is that something you can do?”
“Of course,” Bep answered, poking her head through the door at the back. “Do keep going. I don’t have all day to take this order.”
“Okay,” Sophia replied. “We’d need that one produced regularly as we will have many eggshells. Then we need a single dose of two potions. One to restore memories for someone who has lost them. The other cures them…” She paused as she realized her error. Sophia didn’t actually know what was wrong with Ainsley. Thad had hit her with a deadly spell meant for Hiker, but she didn’t die. She just lost her memory, and the Gullington was keeping her alive all this time. “Actually, I don’t know what we’re curing.”
Bep waved Sophia off as she came back into the main area, carrying a box of products in one hand. “I don’t need to know. The first potion you want me to make will work most likely.”
Sophia sucked in a breath, momentarily stunned. Of course, she realized. “Right. Then we just need two potions made. Can you help us?”
“The healing elixir will take some time,” Bep began. “I’ve got to get clearance for such things. Very bureaucratic part of the job. But once I’ve filed a few forms with Father Time, I should get the go-ahead.”
Rudolf sighed dramatically. “That man and his laws. Always trying to stop us from messing with time or bringing people back from the dead or living forever. Such a stick in the mud.”
Bep pursed her lips at the fae. “He is the reason that we are here to have this conversation at all. I suggest you respect that man or otherwise, he’ll have your head.”
“He’s tried a time or two,” Rudolf bragged.
“Anyway, you can make the healing potions after you get the go-ahead.” Sophia steered the conversation back. “What about the memory elixir?”
The look that crossed Bep’s face didn’t fill Sophia with confidence. “That one will be a bit more difficult, but thankfully doesn’t involve registration clearance.”
“What’s the complication?” Sophia questioned.
“Well, I’ll need a very specific ingredient,” Bep explained. “It’s a tropical flower called a moaning desmond.”
Sophia realized she should have seen this coming a million miles away. “Let me guess, it’s rare, hard to find, and incredibly dangerous to actually pick?”
Bep shrugged. “How would I know? I’ve never tried. I don’t even know where to tell you to look to find it.”
“This is sounding better all the time,” Sophia muttered to herself.
“Stand up straight and speak clearly at all times,” Bep ordered. “About the flower, I can tell you that it has to picked by a very specific person. Finding one of them, well, that may be harder than actually finding the flower.”
Sophia stared at the potion expert, waiting for her to elaborate.
Bep’s eyes met Sophia’s with a very serious expression. “The moaning desmond can only be picked by an assassin.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re in luck,” Rudolf exclaimed when they exited the Rose Apothecary. “I was playing with the idea of becoming an assassin. I got this shiny catalog in the mail the other day for assassin school. The training program promises to turn scrawny individuals into deadly assassins.”
“I’m going to need to see this catalog,” Sophia said dryly. “And there’s no need for you to take on a new role as an assassin. I actually know one, and that’s where we were headed next.”
“But, you promised me a cookie.” Rudolf sounded very much like a whiny child who had skipped their nap as he dragged his feet down Roya Lane.
Sophia rolled her eyes at the king of the fae. “The place I’m taking you sells baked goods, so don’t worry, you’ll get your cookie.”
“And there’s an assassin there?” he questioned. “Like what, the place is run by a baker assassin?”
“That’s exactly right,” Sophia agreed as she ushered him down the small alleyway where Crying Cat Bakery was located.
“You have the strangest friends,” Rudolf observed.
“You have no idea.” She cut her eyes to the fae, who had no idea she was referring to him. He was walking down the cobbled road, careful not to step on any cracks because, as they’d previously discussed, he didn’t want to be responsible for breaking his mother’s back.
As they neared the Crying Cat Bakery, Sophia recognized a figure up ahead, standing squarely in the middle of the alleyway, his arms crossed and a threatening expression on his face as if he was waiting for them.
Sophia wasn’t scared of Subner, though, and not because he was a dirty hippie in his current form. She knew he might be reluctant to smile, but Father Time’s assistant was actually pretty all right, just a little on the grumpy side.
“Hey, Subner,” Sophia began when they were close enough to talk. “What’s going on? Looking for me?”
“No, I wasn’t looking for you,” he replied. “I knew you’d be here right now, so I was waiting for you.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad you don’t split hairs over semantics.”
“I feel similarly about your use of sarcasm,” he stated dryly. “I’m here because Papa Creola isn’t happy that you broke the reset token.”
Rudolf covered his mouth and hissed. “Oh, Sophia is in trouble with Papa.”
“Shush it,” she said to the king before turning her attention back on Subner. “I technically didn’t break it. That was Hiker Wallace.”
The elf shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You were charged with protecting it, and under your supervision, it was destroyed.”
“Well, we don’t technically need it anymore since Liv saved the day, and mortals are able to see magic again,” she argued.
The scowl on the hippie's face deepened. “Papa Creola determines what matters, and he’s decided that in the future, you’re going to have to do something to make up for this.”
Sophia groaned. “Right. No good deed ever goes unpunished. I got that reset point so I could help—”
“Regardless, you’ll have to do something to make up for this, or otherwise, suffer the consequences,” Subner declared.
“Soph, you don’t want to go on Papa Creola’s naughty list,” Rudolf advised. “I promise you. I spent a good century in hiding because if that man found me, then I
was going to have my head shaved and made to look like a fool.”
Subner shook his head at the fae. “You don’t need to be made to look like a fool. You do that all on your own. I believe the threat was that Papa Creola was going to have your head, not have it shaved.”
“Either way, I’d be dead,” Rudolf stated, covering his head with his hands. “I wouldn’t be able to live without this hair.”
Subner sighed. “You really understand nothing, King Rudolf.”
“Why, thank you.” He bowed slightly.
Papa Creola’s assistant returned his attention to Sophia. “In the future…”
She nodded. “Got it. I owe Papa Creola a favor. Just call on me when you need my debt paid. Make sure that I’m super busy, though, and in the middle of something really important.”
Subner backed away, not amused. “Sarcasm, Sophia. It’s not worth your time and energy.”
She waved. “See you soon, Sub. In the meantime, good luck with your Etsy business.”
“How do you know about that?” he asked, surprised.
She winked. “You’re a hippie. You’re required to have an Etsy store.”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s unfortunately true.”
When the elf had left, Sophia and Rudolf continued on their way.
Sophia wasn’t prepared for the scene they walked into when they entered the bakery. She nearly shoved Rudolf back out the door into the alley, but Lee reached out with a surprisingly fast grip and yanked Sophia in.
“Yes!” the baker assassin exclaimed. “Just the person I was hoping to see. You have that mission you need me to go on, right?” Lee winked dramatically at Sophia with her fingers still knitted into her cape.
The bakery was so squeaky clean it hurt Sophia’s eyes. The smell of chemicals was strong in the air. What really made Sophia want to retreat was Cat bustling around with a sponge in one hand and a duster in the other and in her wake a horde of excited fairies, copying her every action as they cleaned everything in sight.
“Your nails are atrocious,” Cat scolded, looking at Sophia’s hands.
She slid them into her cape with a sheepish expression. “I was just at Forever Vegan and I’m probably dirty everywhere.”