by Sarah Noffke
Subner opened the small bag, peering inside. His mouth fell open, and he hustled for the back countertop. “It’s really them! The Dequiem set.”
“You’re welcome,” Liv said, an uncertain tone in her voice.
One by one, Subner pulled the swords from the bag, admiring each individually. “They all appear to be here, too.”
“I agree that I did an amazing job recovering your mysterious objects,” Liv teased.
Subner ignored her, continuing to gawk over his collection.
“If you’re looking for a thank you from him, you’ll be waiting a long time,” Papa Creola said by her side, having magically appeared.
“Does that mean several minutes or years or what?” Liv asked. “I realize time is relative for you.”
He didn’t seem to enjoy her joke. “Gnomes don’t waste time showing gratitude.”
“No wonder they are so grumpy,” Liv stated, then covered half her face. “Not you, though, Papa Creola. You’re a beam of sunshine.”
It was true. Papa Creola was almost chipper-looking in comparison to other gnomes with his round, rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes.
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I do appreciate that you recovered Subner’s weapons for him. The place is a bit bare, and this will help with bringing in business.”
Liv glanced around at the empty shop, looking for a place to set Scientist down. “So, I have your chicken alive. What’s next?”
Papa Creola seemed to have a silent conversation with the bird before glancing at Liv, nodding his head. It was starting to frustrate her that everyone but her could do that. “The person inside this chicken is the only one who knows where an evil magician is. He’s the one who forced her to create the illegal magical-tech devices. His name is Shitkphace.”
A laugh burst from Liv’s mouth. “You want me to go after a villain named Shitface?”
Papa Creola didn’t appear amused. “His name is Shitkphace. The ‘k’ is silent.”
“Okay, but I’m going to have a hard time keeping a straight face while taking down Shitface.”
“I’m guessing that you never keep a straight face, ever,” Papa Creola stated. “Anyway, I don’t know where Shitkphace is hiding.” He pointed at the chicken. “Only she does.”
“Well, can’t you communicate with her?” Liv asked.
He gave her an appalled look. “Of course, I can’t. She’s currently a chicken.”
“Oh, well, I just assumed you two were having silent telepathic conversations like she has with Plato,” Liv related.
“Plato is a different kind of being, and he doesn’t play by the same rules that govern most of us.
Liv let out a long breath, a bit overwhelmed that Plato was violating rules even Father Time had to follow.
“Anyway, this scientist is the only one who knows where Shitkphace is located. I’ve been busy rounding up the magical-tech devices he had her make, but he’s figured out how to replicate the design. As long as he’s out there, he’ll keep creating tech that messes with the fabric of time.”
“Okay, so can you change Scientist?” Liv asked.
“No, I can’t,” Papa Creola answered. “The only person I believe can safely do it is a fae by the name of Phillippe Foggerbottom—”
“Who are these people’s parents? Why are they so bad at naming their children?” Liv asked.
Papa Creola ignored her comment. “Phillippe isn’t going to want to help you.”
“Shocking,” Liv said with zero emotions.
“He’s the only one I trust to turn the scientist back, though,” Papa Creola continued. “You see, he was once a master of transfiguration.”
“Once?” Liv asked, enjoying too much how this was all unfolding.
“He has since taken a different position in the mortal world,” Papa Creola continued.
“Okay, so I have to threaten him until he turns Scientist back, right?”
Papa Creola shook his head.
“You’re going to send me with a note that says you’ll dock his life by a few hundred years if he doesn’t do what I say?” Liv guessed.
“No, I’m afraid that death is what the old fae is looking forward to most.”
“Wow, he sounds like a real cheerful person,” Liv jested.
“He isn’t, and that will probably be one of your biggest obstacles to getting his cooperation.”
“Well, how am I going to get him to turn the chicken back?” Liv asked.
“He won’t listen to me, but all fae are loyal to their king, no matter what,” Papa Creola stated.
Liv dropped her chin and regarded him with a hooded expression. “You’re not implying…”
The old gnome nodded. “I am. King Rudolfus is the only one who can force Phillippe Foggerbottom to do what we want. Do you think you can get him to make that decree?”
Liv sighed. “Yes, but it will cost me several hundred brain cells and probably make me want to take a sledgehammer to my head.”
Papa Creola cracked the tiniest of smiles. “That’s the effect Rudolfus Sweetwater has on me as well, so better you than me.”
Liv went to retrieve the chicken. “Yeah, thanks, Pops.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh, are you in for a treat,” Liv said, stepping through the portal into the kingdom of the fae, also known as the Las Vegas Strip.
The chicken didn’t look impressed, only slightly agitated by the cigarette smoke that wafted over them as obnoxious tourists jostled by, their heads craned up to look at the buildings towering overhead. Many had their phones out and were snapping pictures of the lights or selfies as they posed in front of the Bellagio’s fountain.
“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t presume you haven’t met Rudolf Sweetwater,” Liv said to the chicken. “He does get around. Far less these days, but still, I believe he spent a few centuries whoring around.”
Scientist squawked with offense.
“I’m not insinuating that you’re easy,” Liv amended. “I’m simply saying it’s possible that he would have made a pass at you or offended your intelligence somehow. That’s what he’s best at.”
As soon as they entered the Cosmopolitan Hotel, Liv recognized the many fae who pretended to work as mortals, their wings glamoured.
“Hey, I need to see the king,” she said to a waiter who was cleaning a cocktail table.
The fae looked her over in her black cape and stringy hair and shook his head. “Is he expecting you, magician?”
“No, but that shouldn’t matter,” she stated. “He likes it when I surprise him.”
The man gave a humorless laugh. “We understand that you want to meet the newest king of the fae, but we can’t have every magician who strolls in off the street pestering him.” His eyes slid to the chicken. “Especially ones who have strange pets.”
“This isn’t my pet,” Liv argued. “I have a talking cat. And Rudolf will want to see me. I’m on his advisory board. I was at his coronation. Don’t you recognize me?”
The fae eyed her again. “No, I don’t.”
Liv growled. She had looked quite different at the coronation. If only she had her summoning stone, then this wouldn’t be a problem. She could call Rudolf straight to her side without having to deal with this dimwit.
“Look, I’m a Warrior for the House of Seven, and I suggest you take me to Rudolf. Otherwise, when I do see him, I’m going to tell him to clip your wings and cut your ration of Nutella.”
The man covered the gasp about to escape his mouth. “Very well. We will take you up there, but if you’re not allowed to see the king, then you’ve sealed your miserable fate.”
Three fae dressed in suits strode over at once.
“Just you wait, you oversized fairy,” Liv threatened. Next time she’d need a more direct way of finding Rudolf. She just hadn’t had a chance to touch base with him since he’d taken over the empire. She wasn’t even sure if his throne room was in the same place as Queen Visa’s had been, but regardless
, she knew it would be heavily guarded.
“I thought I was being respectful by asking to see the king,” Liv whispered to the chicken as the waiter lead the way through the casino, the guards striding behind her, “but now I realize they just thought I was a quack.”
The chicken lowered her head and covered it with her wing.
“You’re doing that because of the noise and smoke and not because of my awesome joke, right?”
Scientist didn’t answer.
Once out of the elevator, Liv realized they were going to the same place where Queen Visa’s chambers had been located. However, things looked quite different. Instead of the posh, monochromatic decor of his predecessor, Rudolf had used a more modern, Gen X approach.
The plaster and moldings on the walls had been covered with unstained wood. Overhead, the rafters were exposed, and the fixtures were brushed steel.
“Whoa, I left my hipster card at home,” Liv said to the chicken, loud enough for the security guards to hear.
The fae in front of her swung around, a pursed expression on his face. “His Excellency is making us more relevant by taking us out of the dark ages and innovating our spirit through ingenuity.”
“I will give you a hundred dollars if you can tell me in laymen’s terms what that means,” Liv challenged.
The man’s mouth fell open. Shut again. He looked behind her at the guards as if searching for answers. “I-I-It is complicated to explain.”
Liv shrugged, striding around the fae. “I get that babbling big words is fun, but without meaning, they are useless.”
The guards caught up with her right away, two of them throwing their arms in front of her, blocking the way.
Liv smirked, enjoying this game. “I know my way from here, boys. No need for the escort.”
“Your presence hasn’t been approved by the king,” the first fae said with a disapproving look on his face.
Liv waved at the tall set of double doors in front of them. “Okay, then. Let’s ask your king if it’s okay that I came to play.”
The fae took off once more, struggling to open the heavy doors. When he was able to get one back, Liv was both impressed and slightly repulsed by the industrial appearance of the throne room. The floor was all stained concrete. Overhead, the ductwork was all exposed. Lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, and the walls were all exposed brick.
On one side of the large room was a minimalist bar. Behind it was a man serving drinks, who had a handlebar mustache and was wearing a black vest over his wrinkled button-up shirt.
The fae strewn around the room were attired very differently than the last time Liv was there. They didn’t sport skimpy dresses or flamboyant suits. Instead, almost all of them were wearing skinny jeans rolled up at the ankles. The men wore suspenders, and many of the girls had cropped haircuts and baby bangs. The fae were sitting upright on tufted couches or in uncomfortable metal chairs, having subdued conversations.
“Where have you brought me?” Liv asked, panic in her voice. “Am I in North Hollywood? Please tell me we didn’t portal to that hipster sanctuary, because I can’t control my anger when those types go on and on about non-profit organizations and bringing back the accordion.”
Ignoring her, the fae in front of her led them through the room. At the back, instead of the throne that had been there before, there was a poor excuse for a desk. It was mostly unpolished wood and large metal bolts. Sitting behind it was Rudolf, his back toward them as he leaned back in a swivel chair.
“Tell them I want a better supplier of organic vegan peanuts,” he said into the phone, not sounding at all like himself.
After a pause, he responded, “That’s what they want you to believe. However, I’ve had peanuts that I’m certain had questionable origins.”
He clicked off the phone.
The fae who had led them in cleared his throat to get the king’s attention. Rudolf spun around, a smile lighting his eyes. He covered it quickly, turning his head to the side with a sly expression.
“Your Majesty, this magician has told us that she knows you and you would want to see her,” the fae explained. “Please tell us whether we should allow her to stay or escort her from the property.”
Rudolf’s mouth fell open as he sat up. He had grown a long beard, and his hair on the side of his head was shaved, just like a disgusting hipster. And even stranger was that he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. “You! How dare you show your face here, Biv Leaufont!”
Chapter Sixteen
Liv lowered her chin, realizing immediately the game of power Rudolf was playing. “Ummm, seriously? You’re not doing this, are you, Ru?”
He winked, standing to reveal that he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way to his neck, a bowtie, high-waisted jeans, and suspenders. “I am. And you know why!”
“Because you’re bored and want me to kick these guard’s asses?” Liv guessed.
He smirked. “That’s exactly right.” Turning his attention to the first fae, he clapped his hands on his cheeks. “Oh, no. You’ve allowed a dangerous assassin in here. Get her before it’s too late.”
All three of the guards at Liv’s back reached for her. Sensing this, she dropped to the ground, rolling to the side. Once on her feet, she set the chicken down and immediately threw a punch into the first guard’s stomach. Another one threw up his palm a second later and ball of ice surged toward her.
Liv held up her own hand, sending a fireball to meet the ice. They met in the air, each dissolving at once. While the fae was off guard, Liv sent a rush of wind at him, knocking him onto one of the empty sofas, where his legs flew over his head, making him topple over the side.
The last guard had thought he’d snuck up behind her, but she grabbed him around the neck, spinning him until he was in a headlock.
“Is this what you wanted?” Liv asked, looking straight at Rudolf.
He tapped his foot, arms in front of his chest as he nodded. “Yes, that was exactly what I’ve been needing to liven up things in here.”
“Call off your men, or in the next round, there will be blood,” Liv warned.
He nodded. “Very well.” Directing his gaze to the closest guard, whom Liv had punched, Rudolf shook his head. “Never mind. I thought this was one of my nemeses, but it turns out it’s actually my best friend, Liv Beaufont. Silly me. I always get them confused.”
As if used to these antics, the nearest guard pressed his lips together and nodded. The guard who had toppled over the couch stood, brushing himself off. Liv released the one in the headlock, pushing him away just in case he didn’t know how to take orders. He backed away from her immediately.
“You can go, boys,” Rudolf said, waving the four fae away. “And please don’t hassle Liv the next time she wants to visit me.”
“Which will be never,” Liv remarked, picking up the chicken.
“Oh, come on,” Rudolf stated. “You’re on my council. I’ll need your help.”
“You need your head checked.”
“Can I really be blamed for wanting to see your moves?” Rudolf asked. “I knew you’d handle them fast and keep them humble.”
“What if they were better fighters than me?” Liv asked.
“That’s impossible.” He pointed at the chicken. “Did you bring me a housewarming present? I’ve been thinking of adding a chicken coop on the roof. There’s nothing better than fresh eggs.”
“No.” Liv set the chicken on Rudolf’s desk. “But the chicken is why I’m here.”
“Well, before we get to all that, we should catch up properly.” He hooked his arm through hers, taking her over to what she now realized was a DJ booth. The hipster behind the desk had three Apple computers and a record player in front of him. “Willard, play me some vinyl, would you?”
The fae gave Rudolf a thumbs-up. “Of course. I’ve got a new jam from a band that no one has ever heard of. Their chords are really smooth, but I think they are about to get signed by a major recording studio.”
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br /> Rudolf nodded. “You’re allowed to play them until they get big. Then we smash all their records and scoff when people mention them.”
“Yes, my king,” the man answered, laying a record on the player.
Still leading Liv, Rudolf directed her to the bar. “Would you like a PBR, or maybe something a little more feminine, like an organic orange crush with cloves and a hint of bathtub whiskey?”
“What I’d like is to punch you in the beard,” Liv said, tugging her arm loose.
Rudolf stroked his hand through his beard, grinning. “You like it, don’t you?”
“No,” Liv answered at once. “And why are you wearing glasses? I thought fae had perfect vision.”
“We do,” Rudolf agreed. “I thought they looked good. They are ironic glasses because I don’t really need them. Don’t you think they make me look smart?”
“I’m not sure there is anything on this planet that can make you look smart. Well, unless you’re standing next to Serena. She kind of makes you look sort of smart.”
“Just like a good woman should,” Rudolf related.
“Now I want to know what the hell is going on here? You said you were going to make good changes for the fae, not turn the kingdom into Portland, Oregon. Please, please tell me you haven’t added kale to every menu on the Strip and required that all the computers be replaced with typewriters?”
Rudolf’s gaze dropped to the ground. “It’s really uncanny how you know things about me. It’s like we’re the same person.”
“No, we’re not, because I have a brain in my head, and you’re a freaking idiot.”
The bartender slid two cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon across the counter to Rudolf. He caught them, handing one to Liv. “I thought I’d try something different. Queen Visa was so materialistic. I’m trying a different approach. One that’s more—”
“Ridiculous?” Liv asked, cutting him off.
“One that’s less about conformity,” he corrected.
She shook her head. “No, you’re just exchanging one type of materialism for another. Before, your people could only wear the top designers and rock out to EDM. Now they have to wear American Apparel and Ray-Ban sunglasses and only watch indie movies. Have you tried just letting them be themselves?”