by Sarah Noffke
Chapter Fifty-Eight
A large leather-bound volume nearly slammed into Sophia’s head when she stepped through the portal into the Great Library.
Wilder threw up his hand and deflected the attack, knocking the book to the floor. Sophia immediately created an invisible shield to protect them from the unseen danger. It wouldn’t hold long, but it would give them a chance to determine what was attacking them.
Three more doorstopper-sized books collided with the shield and slid to the floor, where they fell open. Sophia scanned the large library for the source throwing the volumes, but they appeared to be flying from multiple directions and were followed by giddy laughter.
Standing casually behind the first shelf, blocked from the attacks, was none other than Plato. He was licking his paw as if that were of great importance while under attack.
Sophia flinched when a book flew straight at her. It connected with the dome-shaped shield. “Plato, what the hell is going on?”
He glanced up like he hadn’t noticed the pair before. “The stock market is up, and I hear it’s a result of increased tourism worldwide.”
Her eyes bulged with annoyance. “I meant with the chaos in the library.”
There were multiple squeaks from various places in the Great Library. Books were now being thrown down the long center aisle, but Sophia didn’t dare take down the shield.
“We have tourists, apparently,” Plato answered dryly.
“So, just wondering,” Wilder began casually. “Totally no big deal, but is the cat talking?”
“He’s a lynx,” Sophia muttered, watching for signs of creatures as the sound of running footsteps registered in the back corner.
“Okay, so the lynx can talk,” Wilder corrected. “Still not something you see every day…or ever in my case.”
She glanced at him. “You have a talking dragon.”
“Which is normal, because dragons are magic,” Wilder reasoned.
Holding out a hand to Plato, Sophia said, “Meet Plato, the most magical creature on the planet probably.”
The lynx narrowed his green eyes at her. “Don’t spread rumors. It really isn’t becoming.” He turned his gaze on Wilder. “Don’t listen to Sophia. She tells tales.”
Wilder laughed. “Yeah, right. I’ve never known someone less likely to make things up.”
Another book flew past them and collided with the long windows that surrounded the Great Library.
“Plato!” Sophia exclaimed. “Who is this tourist that you’re referring to?”
The lynx shrugged. “Well, as you know, I don’t have a librarian currently.”
Sophia urged him to speed up by vigorously nodding. Her shield was coming down, and it appeared more attacks were on the way based on the trajectory of the books being thrown.
“I invited the brownies to help me with shelving since they are naturally good organizers,” Plato continued. “Although, between the two of us, they don’t really get how subgenres work, but we’re working on it. I’ll just have—”
“Seriously, you’re about to run through your lives, Plato!” Sophia exclaimed as a barrage of books hit her shield. Wilder was on high alert next to her, sensing her shield coming down as the books semi-penetrated it.
“Threats don’t really work on me,” the lynx stated. “Unfortunately, due to the current situation of the Great Library, the normal security and glamour measures are down, and the brownies attracted their greatest adversary.”
Wilder glanced down at the floor, littered with opened books. “The new generation of Kindle users?”
Sophia gave him a look of surprise. “Did you just make a modern reference?”
He winked at her. “You’re wearing off on me, Soph.”
“Now, who are the ones who can’t stay focused?” Plato spat.
Sophia would have told the lynx off, but her shield came down, sizzling like bacon in a frying pan as it did so. She dove for the shelves where the cat was stationed, throwing her back up against it and crouching low. Wilder did the same.
“What is it, Plato?” she asked.
“His name is Phillip von Clausewitz,” Plato began lecturing, as though to a room full of college students. “Back in the eighteenth century—”
“Skip the history lesson,” Sophia interrupted. “Tell me who this Clause guy is.”
He shook his head. “You really must read Magical Creatures by Bermuda Laurens if you don’t know what the enemy of a brownie is.”
“I have,” Sophia argued, listening to book after book assault the shelf at their back, followed by gleeful laughter and footsteps. “But it’s a large volume, and I don’t have it memorized.”
“Phillip von Clausewitz is a hobgoblin,” Plato explained. “They are notoriously mischievous in nature, undoubtedly destructive in all instances, and against any attempt at order or cleanliness.”
“Hence why they despise brownies,” Sophia observed.
“Are the little guys okay?” Wilder asked. “This hobgoblin went after them in here?”
Plato nodded. “Yes, and they aren’t really good fighters. I should clarify. They are horrible at it.”
High pitched yells echoed in the distance, making Sophia tense. “We have to help them.”
“I agree,” Plato stated. “Lucky that you showed up when you did.”
Sophia gave Wilder a knowing look. “Not really lucky. Sort of designed by Mother Nature.”
“Well, since you’re here,” Plato began, “why don’t you go take care of Phillip von Clausewitz?”
“Because he’s not our problem,” Sophia dared to say in reply.
“That’s true,” Plato said matter-of-factly. “But I’m certain that if you helped me eradicate this pest, then I would be able to pinpoint exactly what you’re looking for in The Forgotten Archives, which was incidentally thrown at me right before I took refuge here.”
“How do you know we came here for that book?” Wilder asked, stunned.
“He’s Plato,” she said like it explained everything.
“Oh right,” Wilder said, nodding. “Most magical creature. Totally should have expected this.”
“How are we supposed to take the hobgoblin down?” Sophia questioned.
“A swift punch to the face might work,” Plato offered.
She gave him an annoyed expression. “Thanks. I was asking more about his weaknesses.”
“Well, they are fast, relentless, and very powerful magically,” Plato reasoned. “Furthermore, they thrive off the irritation and frustration they cause, so if you can limit your reactions, that usually helps with diminishing the strengths that feed them.”
Sophia nodded. “Okay, so we pretend we don’t care and then slow the little bugger down and banish it back to hell where it belongs.”
“Or just kick it out the front door, and I’ll put a charm on it that will prevent entry by anyone, but namely, Phillip von Clausewitz,” Plato said.
Sophia glanced at Wilder on the other side of her. “Think we can lure Clause to the front and coordinate efforts to get him evicted from the Great Library?”
Wilder stood. “What do you think?” he asked, extending a hand to her.
She took it, allowing him to help her up. “What do you think I’m thinking?”
“That you both overuse questions,” Plato said dryly.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
When Sophia dared to peek around the shelf they were using as a refuge, she immediately had to duck to avoid taking a book to the head. The brief glimpse gave her a picture of a few brownies scurrying between rows trying to escape the unseen hobgoblin.
Glancing at Wilder, who had also stuck his head out to check the scene, Sophia said, “You want to go down that way, and I’ll take the other side?” She pointed at the far aisle that ran along the bank of windows.
He slapped his hands together. “Sounds like a plan. We can get on the other side of this prankster and push him toward the exit.”
“Okay, let’s be fast,�
�� Sophia encouraged as a book went flying past them. “Watching all the damage Clause is doing to these lovely books is hurting my heart.”
Wilder gave her a look. “Well, remember to hide that. If he knows it’s bothering you, it’s going to feed his strength.”
She nodded and plastered on a neutral expression. “I mean, I couldn’t care less. Who cares about books and all they offer the world?”
He winked at her. “Are you an actress?”
“How did you know?” she asked, shooting him a smile as she ducked and hurried past the center aisle.
Once there, Sophia darted down the side, looking at the chaos the unchecked hobgoblin had created. There were piles of books on every row. She kept up with Wilder as he sprinted up the far side.
As they progressed, Sophia caught sight of brownies cowering in corners of shelves or beside piles of books.
“It’s going to be okay,” she told them in a reassuring hush.
One of them peeked out from under an overturned book, its floppy ears partially obstructing its large eyes as it shook violently.
Sophia sighed, feeling heartbreak for the little defenseless brownies. She had never met a hobgoblin before, but now this was personal, and she wasn’t going to stop until she evicted Mr. Jerkface von Clausewitz.
A loud snickering assaulted Sophia’s ears and made her jump. It sounded like it was in her head and all around her at the same time. The noise shook the books on the shelves, creating a great rumbling all over the library.
Sophia cringed as a few dozen brownies ran the opposite direction she was headed, screaming their heads off. The monster must be up ahead, she reasoned, watching as book after book flew through the air after the little elves.
Hearing signs the hobgoblin was on the next row, Sophia halted beside the shelf. She took in a breath and gripped Inexorabilis tighter.
What she saw when she rounded the corner made her both revolted and anxious.
Clause was larger than a brownie, about the size of a scrawny gnome. His hands were gnarly and curled into his chest. The creature’s shoulders were pinned up by its bat-like ears, and when it turned to face Sophia, it wore a wicked grin, its gray eyes lit up with evil delight. The light overhead shone off his bald head and red bulbous nose.
The hobgoblin laughed, tying a final knot around the brownie it had tied up by its ankles. The little guy hung upside down, his hands dangling over his head, the blood rushing to his face. The brownie let out a plea-filled squeak at the sight of Sophia.
She shot forward, intent on chasing the hobgoblin, but as Plato had warned, he was impossibly fast. He disappeared around the shelves, headed toward the back of the library, cackling the entire time.
Sophia slumped. This cat and mouse game was going to take a bit longer than she had intended. She doubled back and cut the ropes that bound the brownie with her sword, catching him before he landed on his head on the floor.
“Are you all right?” she asked the little guy.
He shook his head, as though trying to make the blood go back toward his body. His eyes welled up with tears.
“Fe mine,” the brownie squeaked.
“Ticker,” she said, recognizing Mortimer and Pricilla’s son. He was smaller than an average brownie, but still growing, she reasoned. “You need to get out of here. Go back to the brownie headquarters, okay?”
He nodded, getting control over himself. “Gean moblin.” Ticker pointed in the direction Clause had disappeared.
“He’s the worst,” Sophia agreed. “But don’t worry. If there’s one thing I loathe more than anything else, it’s bullies. He’s going to regret the day he messed with Sophia Beaufont’s friends.”
Ticker threw his little fists into the air. “So, Gophia!”
She smiled over her shoulder at the brownie as she made for the center aisle. Clause might be fast. He might be cunning. But there was something the hobgoblin didn’t have, and it was going to be his downfall.
Chapter Sixty
Liv Beaufont had taught her sister, Sophia, a great many things. Some were as elementary as how to tie a figure-eight knot. Others were complex, like the idea that those who are motivated by love can overcome far greater things than those motivated by greed, hate, and vengefulness.
There was little doubt in Sophia’s mind that Clause was motivated by the latter. Therefore, he was going down. The key though was how, because he currently had the upper hand, running wild and creating havoc in the Great Library. Sophia was confident that with a few things quietly put into place, she could lay the groundwork for a trap that would get the hobgoblin out of there once and for all.
She held out her arm as she strode down the center aisle, and the rope Clause had used to tie up Ticker flew through the air and landed in her hand. Casually looking around, she tied a figure-eight knot at the end of the rope—a secure knot that was helpful for climbing.
“You’re quite the inconvenience, aren’t you?” Sophia said loudly, faking a yawn.
The scurrying a few rows ahead halted, followed by a growl.
Sophia grinned inwardly. She kicked a book blocking her path to the side, hiding the pain such an act caused her. “That’s fine, though. You’ve probably done us a favor because we really needed to remodel this place anyways. So, thanks!”
A sound of protest echoed from a shelf on the opposite side from where she thought Clause had been a moment ago. Her plan seemed to be working. Plato was right. If the hobgoblin didn’t get the satisfaction of knowing he’d created havoc, it would disempower him, and that would hopefully lead to a mistake and his inevitable downfall.
Sophia caught sight of Wilder on the next row and he gave her a curious expression, watching her tie the rope and make the knot.
“Wild, don’t you think this place looks immeasurably better than before?” she asked, winking at him.
He grinned. “One-hundred percent. I couldn’t find a damn thing in this place before and now look.” He leaned down and plucked a large volume from a pile of books haphazardly littering the floor. “How to Talk to Your Cat About Gun Safety. Do you know that I’ve been looking for this book everywhere, and here it just fell into my lap?”
“Total kismet,” Sophia said, laughing. “Maybe we can find the one written for dragons.” She cupped her hand to her mouth. “Phil Von Whatever Your Face Is, can you throw a few more books around? We need to find a certain one, and you seem to be the only useful person in this place.”
Wilder’s eyes shone with amusement. She returned the look. They were undoubtedly going to get under the hobgoblin’s pale greenish skin now.
A thunderous sound began up ahead.
The amused expression dropped from both their faces as it grew in intensity. A slight breeze wafted through the air, carrying with it the smell of dust from old books.
Sophia shot Wilder a confused look. He pulled up beside her, readying the bow and arrow he’d brought.
The wind increased, knocking Sophia’s hair off her shoulders. The sound that followed was like that of a train roaring on tracks overhead.
The source of the wind and noise spun out from behind the shelves and Sophia’s eyes widened with horror.
Chapter Sixty-One
Sophia’s first instinct was to run. However, she knew Clause was watching from somewhere and looking for a reaction. She couldn’t give it to him.
Wilder understood at once based on the sideways expression he gave her.
The two of them paused and regarded the cyclone made of sheets of paper from hundreds of books as though it was some novel thing they hadn’t seen before.
“Did the forecast say there was going to be tornadoes?” Sophia asked, working to keep the fear out of her voice as the large cyclone barreled closer, picking up speed. It was roughly fifty yards away down the center row.
Wilder shrugged. “I knew there was a cold front and high humidity, but you never know with tornadoes. They can just pop up when you least expect them.”
Sophia nodded,
shouldering the rope for the moment and trying to craft an impromptu plan for dealing with the most unnatural tornado she’d ever witnessed while also trying to pretend to be calm. “Cool, well, do you want to find a reading nook to enjoy your book?”
The tornado of pages spun through the air, reaching up as high as the second-floor balconies and spanning the width of the center aisle.
“Yeah, sure,” Wilder replied. “Maybe I can get a nap, too. For some reason, I’m tired.”
“Probably due to boredom,” Sophia offered.
Over the hum of the tornado, Sophia heard a wail of frustration up ahead. The tornado waned in intensity. It was working. They just had to keep it up.
“So, how do we deal with a tornado?” Wilder asked, encouraging Sophia to back up.
“How should I know?” she replied. “We don’t get them in Los Angeles.”
“Well, we don’t get them in Scotland either,” he countered. “We don’t get anything but noisy sheep.”
Sophia nodded, missing how simple life was at the Gullington. She glanced over her shoulder. They could just make for the portal door and be out of there, but that would be the coward’s way out. No, they had to face this storm head on—literally.
Recently, Sophia had to battle her way on Lunis through a cyclone created by an angry octopus in the Atlantic Ocean. The way to deal with that one had been to take down the source.
As they had been pushed back from where Clause was located, that was becoming increasingly difficult.
Books spiraled even faster in their direction, hurdling at their face and moving with deadly force. Sophia swung Inexorabilis through the air like a bat, knocking objects away before they could assault them.
She sliced through book after book, feeling true conflict as she destroyed the precious volumes.
“You need to get to higher ground,” she told Wilder over the loud noise of the cyclone gaining on them.