Harmonize Hostilities (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 7)

by Sarah Noffke

  “I think there’s none,” Sophia joked.

  “Well, that won’t do at all,” Liv complained, looking around for one of the waitstaff. “My buzz from the wine wore off when I passed out, so I’m looking forward to refreshing it.”

  “Do you think you’ll get some insights on our next steps, then?”

  “Something like that,” she said, waving at the waitress. “Can we get a couple pitchers of margaritas?”

  “A couple?” Jamaica asked. “Is she old enough to drink?”

  “Probably, since she’s old enough to ride a dragon and has the chi of the dragon inside of her that gives her access to their thousands of years of consciousness, but card her if you’d like,” Liv replied.

  The woman glanced over her shoulder, where police officers were guarding the restaurant. “Yeah, I think it’s probably okay. She did save a plane full of people.”

  “Solid reason, Jam,” Liv sang, nodding her head at the waitress.

  “Ever wonder why people often give you rude glares?” Sophia teased.

  Liv shook her head. “No, not at all.” She picked up the menu again. “What I wonder is what we’ll be having for dessert. They have a molten chocolate cake and something they are calling Paradise Pie. I would argue that nothing that has coconut bars as the main ingredient should be labeled as paradise. Coconut bars sound like health food. Things covered in chocolate or melted cheese, that’s paradise.”

  “What else do they have?” Sophia asked, picking up another menu. A brown page slipped out of it and onto the table.

  Both sisters jerked their heads up and looked at each other.

  “And there’s another one,” Liv exclaimed. “How do they end up in the most random places? Like we didn’t even know we were going to arrive here because of that whole emergency situation.”

  Sophia scratched her head. “I really don’t know. It’s bizarre.”

  Jamaica returned, followed by three other waitstaff carrying trays. They slid the pitcher of margaritas, glasses, skillet queso, and many of the other items ordered onto the table.

  “We’ll be back with the rest when you’re ready,” Jamaica announced, looking to be winded from carrying all the food.

  Through a bite of chips and with queso running down her chin, Liv said, “We’re ready.”

  Jamaica gave them an impressed expression. “In my next life, I want to be a magician and work for the House of Fourteen or the Dragon Elite.”

  “It’s pretty cool,” Sophia replied, taking a bite of a mozzarella stick covered in marinara, “but you never get a day off, and management is kind of a pain in the butt.”

  Jamaica gave them a commiserate expression before checking over her shoulder. “Tell me about it. My boss is always breathing down my neck about something, but thankfully he’s away right now.”

  Liv laughed, licking her fingertips. “My boss is Father Time, and he is always breathing down my neck about something.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Rolling her eyes, she retrieved it and checked the message before flashing it at Jamaica and Sophia. “And there’s no privacy, ever.”

  The message from Papa Creola read: “I heard that. – Papa Creola”

  “Wow, yeah, maybe I don’t want to work for a powerful magical organization,” Jamaica said. “I’ll go get you some more napkins.” She buzzed off as Sophia went to work on the burger after cutting it in half. She’d have to dislocate her jaw to bite into it, something that seemed worth the effort since it was dripping with all her favorite toppings.

  With greasy fingers, Liv typed a reply to Papa Creola that said, “If you’re such a know it all, why don’t you tell us what we need to do to find Baba Yaga and the rest of the pages to the grimoire? We’re stuck in…well, you already know, don’t you?”

  Not even a second after she sent the message, another one came through from Papa Creola, faster than humanly possible for someone to type out. “You have cilantro in your teeth.”

  Liv lowered her phone and flashed Sophia a toothy grin.

  “He’s right,” Sophia answered, indicating a piece of green between Liv’s two front teeth.

  “How does that man do it?”

  “Besides that he’s the father of time?” Sophia asked, devouring a southwest eggroll.

  “Yeah, maybe he’s the one who is putting the pages around for us to find them,” Liv mused, crunching into a chip.

  Sophia shook her head. “I thought of that, but he sent us on this mission. If he knew where the pages were, then he would have told us where to go to find them.”

  Liv gave her an incredulous expression. “That’s cute, even for you.”

  Popping a fry dripping in ranch into her mouth, Sophia shrugged. “I just don’t think it’s him. I mean, Papa Creola knows all sorts of things, but he does have gaps, right? He can’t always see the future, and things on the timeline are constantly changing.”

  “Yeah, it’s that whole wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey thing,” Liv agreed, picking up a piece of celery and eyeing it like it was a piece of trash. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “I think it’s a palate cleanser,” Sophia joked.

  Liv dropped it on an empty plate and wiped her hands like they were suddenly filthy. “Well, since my boss doesn’t want to throw us a bone, I guess we can just take our time with this meal.”

  The phone on the table buzzed. Before glancing at it, Liv grinned victoriously. “That works about half the time.”

  She looked at the message and read, her jokester expression fading.

  “What does it say?” Sophia asked, not able to see over the mountain of food between them.

  Liv held up the phone. The message said: “Baba Yaga will be there in less than an hour. Find the rest of the pages if you wish to survive. Assembling the book is your only chance.”

  Chapter One Hundred Three

  Deciding it was wise to skip dessert, the Beaufont sisters requested the check. Jamaica informed them their money was no good there. Apparently, risking your life to save a plane of mortals earns a few-hundred-dollar meal from Chili’s.

  “Sort of wished I’d ordered dessert to go, if I knew they were comping it,” Liv joked.

  “You literally have more money than you know what to do with,” Sophia said dryly.

  “Yeah, but nothing tastes as good as a free meal.”

  Sophia rubbed her stomach. “I don’t know. I sort of lost my appetite when I learned we have an hour to find the pages or the result is death.”

  Liv rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t fall for Papa Creola’s melodramatic act. He’s always telling me that I’m going to die.”

  Sophia cut her eyes. “Isn’t that more of a threat, though?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it’s usually like, Liv, if you don’t get here on time, then I’m going to murder you in your sleep. And he wonders why I can’t fall asleep and then I oversleep. He really is a part of the process.”

  Sophia studied the airport terminal ahead of them. Unsurprisingly, they were getting a lot of attention from those they passed. “How ironic is it that the father of time’s diplomat is always late?”

  “It’s cute,” Liv replied. “It’s our thing. Papa Creola keeps buying me alarm clocks, and for some reason, I forget to set them. I’m such a ditz.”

  “At what point are we supposed to disguise ourselves as one of the three sisters of Baba Yaga?” Sophia asked, her nerves starting to rattle in her chest. She wasn’t as good as Liv about shooting the breeze in the face of danger. Lunis was also really good at it and those two definitely kept her sane, but hopefully, her more serious nature created balance.

  “Well, I think that is part of how we’re able to find the pages,” Liv mused. “Papa Creola said something about how we had to be sisters. I think that if we disguise ourselves as Baba Yaga when she arrives, it will buy us some time.”

  Sophia patted the pocket where she had the pages from the grimoire. “We’re going to need that time since we’ve got to figure ou
t how to assemble this book.”

  “But we don’t know what this seven-thousand-year-old witch looks like, so disguising ourselves as her will be a challenge.”

  Sophia agreed with a nod. They were close, really close to finding the last few pages of the grimoire. She could feel it. But the timing had to be right because she also knew Baba Yaga was close. Papa Creola said that if they were disguised as the sisters, then they could slip in and steal slash assemble the book under her nose before she caught wind of it.

  She pointed to the burned-out broomstick Liv was now carrying across her back. “We still haven’t figured out what that thing is for or how to kill the witch with it.”

  Liv halted her eyes wide. “Yeah, but I think we’re getting close.”

  Sophia studied her sister. “Why? What have you figured out?”

  Liv had that look about her she got when the pieces had fallen into place. “Have you noticed a trend in the people we’ve met on this quest?”

  “Most don’t get your jokes,” she observed.

  “That,” Liv answered. “But also their names. There was Denmark, Athens, Monaco, Cecily, Bali, and now Jamaica.”

  Sophia gasped. “They are all places. How did I not see that?”

  “Call it a missed connection,” Liv muttered, looking ahead as if in a daze.

  “Yeah, it was,” Sophia replied.

  Her sister shook her head. “No, I think it’s literally been leading us to that store.” She pointed, and Sophia followed the direction to find a store that sold gum and newspapers and magazines. The name of the store was Missed Connection.

  Chapter One Hundred Four

  Thinking that Liv had too much to drink, Sophia blinked at her. “I don’t get it. Why do you think that it’s been leading us there?”

  “Because of the map on the wall out front,” Liv explained.

  On the outside of the store was a world map with several red dots connected by a bright blue string.

  “We’re at an airport,” Sophia argued. “Maps are sort of a big deal for travelers, and people miss connections all the time.”

  Liv slapped her hand by her side, rounding on her sister. “Did you not drink any of those margaritas? That would explain your illogical reasoning and ability to miss what’s so plainly in front of you.”

  Sophia narrowed her eyes at the map, trying to see what she was missing. Then she saw it and she couldn’t unsee it and felt silly for not having seen it first.

  On the map, tied together by the blue string were several places, Denmark, Athens, Monaco, Cecily, Bali, and Jamaica. There were other red dots on the world map, but they weren’t connected by the bright blue string.

  “So, we’re to go into the shop, then?” Sophia asked.

  Liv nodded. “And figure out what connection we’ve missed.”

  “Or haven’t missed since we’ve seemed to have figured it out,” Sophia remarked, starting forward.

  Liv reached out and grabbed her by the arm before she could proceed. “What if it’s a trick?”

  Sophia paused, considering. “What if it’s not, and whoever has been leaving the pages from the grimoire for us has the final clue? The only way to find out is to proceed, and I’d rather do that than let the hour pass and meet Baba Yaga without the book assembled.”

  Liv smiled proudly at her sister. “That was one-hundred percent the right answer. Let’s go.”

  Chapter One Hundred Five

  The shop was indistinct from any of the various newsstands one might find in an international airport. There were tons of magazine options, newspapers from various sources, thriller paperbacks, candy, drinks, and a few souvenir options for the weary traveler who forgot to pick something up for their kid at a better location.

  Liv drummed her fingers on the counter, trying to get the attention of the cashier, a short woman with black hair. “Excuse me. We need some help.”

  “I’ll be with you in a moment,” the lady said in a raspy voice.

  Liv cut her eyes at her sister. “If we were late for a flight, that would be sort of unsatisfactory.”

  “We are pressed for time,” Sophia argued, picking up a magazine that had a drawing of Lunis on the front with the headline: Our Saviors or the Death of Us?

  She knew she shouldn’t but decided to flip to the article to see what propaganda Nevin Gooseman and his politics were spreading. When she got to the page, she was surprised to find one of the pages from the grimoire hiding there.

  “Liv,” she said, holding up the piece of paper.

  “Okay, it’s sort of getting creepy at this point,” Liv remarked, grabbing a Dan Brown paperback and randomly flipping it open. She found another page.

  The candy on the countertop began to rattle like Omaha was experiencing an earthquake.

  Sophia widened her eyes at her sister and mouthed, “What’s going on?”

  Liv shook her head, unsure. Leaning across the counter, she tried to make out what the busy cashier was up to, making a strange scratching noise. “Um, not to rush you or anything but —”

  “I’m busy,” the woman spat, cutting her off. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Liv peeled back. “And I’m a paying customer.”

  “Come on,” Sophia encouraged, picking up book after book and finding pages everywhere. They were inside the newspapers or under books or stuck between magazines. Since the woman behind the counter didn’t seem to mind, the sisters went to work, searching through the store until they’d uncovered every possible place where pages could be hidden. When Sophia had a huge stack in her hands, everything in the store began to shake. The walls vibrated, and a hissing sound filled the air.

  Sophia tilted her head to the side, giving Liv a tentative expression. “I don’t think that’s a good sign.”

  “On the contrary, sisters,” the woman behind the counter sang, her voice sounding quite delighted. “It’s a great sign because after all my hard work and centuries of planning, you’ve finally recovered my grimoire. Now you can hand it over.”

  The short woman behind the counter spun around, and without a doubt, Sophia knew it was Baba Yaga.

  As they’d worried, it had all been a trap. A very carefully planned and executed one.

  Chapter One Hundred Six

  The pages quaked in Sophia’s hand. She tightened her grip on them as they tried to slip through her fingers.

  Liv stepped slightly in front of Sophia, taking a protective stance. “How are you here? And what do you mean you were waiting for us to recover the grimoire?”

  Baba Yaga wouldn’t be considered attractive by any standards, ever. Her loose skin was a greenish-gray color, and two of her bottom teeth protruded over her top lip like those of a wild boar.

  The seven-thousand-year-old witch looked her age with a withered pointed nose and bushy eyebrows. Her bloodshot red eyes with their unmistakable sinister intent were the part that made Sophia’s skin crawl the most.

  The old woman laughed and sounded like a pestle scraping against a mortar. “I was cursed never to be able to assemble the pages of my grimoire, but it didn’t take me long to figure out who could and how.”

  “I thought it was that no one could assemble them until you were awake,” Sophia asked, watching as objects lifted off the countertop and began hovering.

  “That’s what Father Time was made to believe,” the witch stated smugly. “That today would be the day I was awoken, but by what?” She laughed, making books fly off the shelves and dart in their direction. Both sisters ducked on cue, thankfully not getting hit by the soaring objects.

  “You woke yourself?” Liv guessed. “But why, and why now?”

  “Because as a seer, I knew I had to wait for two sisters from the House of Fourteen to be ready to assemble my grimoire,” Baba Yaga explained.

  Sophia gasped. “You were waiting for us? You were the seer who saw that we were the ones to recover the book.”

  “Oh, yes,” Baba Yaga answered. “What a long wait it would hav
e been if I hadn’t slumbered.”

  Liv sighed and gave Sophia an annoyed expression. “We’ve been duped.”

  “Not even the most powerful entities could have seen what I had planned,” Baba Yaga explained. “I’d been cursed never to be able to put my grimoire back together once it was strewn into pieces and seemingly hidden from me. I spent my time before hibernation finding the pages, but I knew that I couldn’t touch them. It had to be Royals—two sisters, both slated to be Warriors.”

  “That’s us,” Liv sang.

  “As my prophecy foretold,” Baba Yaga explained. “That was the caveat I found that no one knew about, but Father Time mistakenly believed you two could do it because you represented the three sisters when combined with me, and I would be fooled by this. All carefully orchestrated by me and a long time coming.”

  Sophia couldn’t believe they’d been fooled. Papa Creola was powerful, but he couldn’t see everything. He had believed they had to go after the pages, but they’d been misled into getting the pages for Baba Yaga. Now they were pinched together in her and Liv’s hands, rattling, and with each passing second harder to hold onto.

  “You’re the seer?” Liv asked, her tone flaring with anger.

  “Naturally,” Baba Yaga said proudly, pressing a withered hand with yellowed nails to her chest. She appeared entirely too proud of herself, which must have been why she was going to the trouble of explaining things. She had gone to quite a lot of work to put all this in place, and probably wanted her moment in the sun before she reigned once more.

  “So, Athens? Denmark? And the others?” Sophia asked, still trying to piece it together. The timeline was weird, but she could see how a clever and powerful old witch could have planned this if they could see the future and had so much help.

  “They’ve all been my soldiers, unknowingly working for me,” Baba Yaga told her. “Athens believed I was his mother when I told him of the prophecy since his own mother actually was a seer. He believed that Denmark worked for him. The others, well, they served their purposes, putting the pages into places so that you could find them since the spells on them only came back to light once they were touched by a Royal. Before, they would have been burned to a crisp if I tried to touch them and lost forever.”