Unstoppable Liv Beaufont Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  Looking down at the feline who stood next to her, Liv pursed her lips. “This would be a perfect chance to throw some fireballs.”

  “Next time you’ll have to have the gnomes teach you how to create them,” Plato said, sitting casually on the thatched roof they occupied and looking down at the goblins. “It is gnome magic, after all.”

  Liv agreed with a nod. “Yes, that would have been good to know before I pissed off a slew of them and sullied my name with the lot of them. Now they won’t give me a minute to apologize.”

  Plato lifted his pink nose in the air. “You don’t need the gnomes.”

  “Well, I’d like to know how to make fireballs, so I think I do,” Liv stated. “And we all need each other. We are supposed to be sharing this planet.”

  Plato’s green eyes swiveled to the goblin fights. A larger goblin had pulled a stolen laptop away from a smaller one and bonked him on the head with it. The assault cracked the machine, making the first goblin shriek with frustration. “I think the creatures below need a refresher course on how sharing works.”

  Liv sighed heavily. “Yes, and also to be taught that stealing is wrong.” She lifted both her hands and the trees began to rustle like a great storm was about to rip through the island. Dirt and leaves flew up from the ground, covering many of the thrashing creatures. Palm trees bent almost double, looking dangerously close to toppling.

  Liv might not have the ability to create fire, but she could harness elements that already existed—in this case, wind. When the camp below was in complete chaos, goblins diving and covering their misshapen faces to escape the debris and others holding onto large plants to anchor themselves to the ground, Liv sprang off the roof of the hut.

  She landed in the middle of the clearing, her head down and one hand barely grazing the ground.

  The wind stopped at once.

  The whimpering of the goblins faded as they realized the wind that had been trying to pull them from the ground was gone. It was replaced by silence as they turned to find the Warrior rising to a standing position in the middle of the open area.

  “Magician! How dare you enter our camp?” the chief goblin yelled, charging toward Liv, his head nearly even with her waist. Despite his stature, his jagged teeth and stocky build meant he was a force to be reckoned with. That was why Liv raised her hand at once. A set of ropes on the ground by a nearby tree rose and flew through the air, wrapping around the goblin and tying him into a neat little bundle. He fell over on his side, looking like a candy bar with his head poking out of one end of the wrapper and his gnarly feet out the other.

  “I agree,” Liv began, turning in a circle as the other goblins unsheathed their weapons and bared their yellow teeth at her. “The agreement with the House of Seven states that magicians aren’t to enter your territory without your permission. But it also says that you aren’t to pillage from mortals, does it not?”

  The chief had rolled over so that half his mouth was in the dirt. He started making garbled, unintelligible noises.

  Liv rolled her eyes, keeping her awareness on the other goblins that were inching closer. She flicked her wrist and the closest one went flying, knocking into a tree trunk. It slid down to the ground with a loud squeak. “Oops. Sorry. Meant to throw you in the pond over there,” she said, indicating a disgusting pit of swamp water—a breeding ground for mosquitoes.

  A goblin at Liv’s back raced toward her and she spun around and held out her hand, lifting the goblin into the air. When he was hovering at her eye level, she clicked her tongue. “Now, I’d rethink this whole attacking idea because I’m still working on this aiming thing. It’s going to take some practice.”

  The goblin kicked his feet angrily, holding a giant fork over his head and calling her names, or at least that was what it sounded like.

  She shrugged and sent him toward the pond, but he landed next to a neighboring tree. “See, I told you. I was never good at sports. I throw like an elf.” Liv laughed at her own joke. “Get it? Because they are so lanky and all. Their arms get tangled up if they try to pitch a ball.”

  She continued to laugh. The goblins regarded her with contempt.

  “Okay, fine,” Liv said, her laughter fading. “You are a tough crowd.”

  Turning around to face the chief, Liv smoothed her black hooded cape. “Trock Swaliswan, how many times have you been politely warned not to steal from the mortals on this island?”

  The goblin struggled in his bindings, making him roll more into the mud and eat a mouthful of dirt.

  “Oops, sorry.” Liv lifted her hand, and the goblin rose and stood upright. “That’s better.”

  Trock spat out a mouthful of mud, splattering Liv’s boots. She eyed it and gave the goblin a disgusted look. “I’m going to allow that to pass this one time. The next time, you lose an ear.”

  The goblin laughed, showing a mouthful of missing or blackened teeth. “You’re a joke if the House of Seven sent you to deal with us. They know we can’t be stopped.”

  Liv tipped her finger to the side and the goblin’s face flew forward, his feet still connected to the Earth. She stood him back up after drenching his face in mud once more. “The thing is, I’m new to the House, and darn it if I know how to play by the rules.” She spun, and her cape swirled around her. With the movement, the closest small huts crumbled to the ground.

  When she faced the chief again, Liv slapped her hand to her forehead. “Oops. Did I do that? Sorry.”

  The goblin shook his head, mud spraying in all directions but missing Liv. “You’re not to damage our property when enforcing rules.”

  “Right, I’m supposed to cite you for your injustices,” Liv agreed in a bored voice. “Tell you that this is a warning, and if you do it again, you’ll have to answer to the Council and possibly have your magic locked.” Liv yawned loudly. “Here’s the thing: you don’t care about those punishments. You’re going to keep doing this until someone teaches you not to, so I figured I’d save everyone the trouble and be that person.”

  “This is not how the rules work!” Trock yelled.

  Liv dared take a step forward, her hand in front of her, and pointed at the chief’s chest with a murderous look in her eyes. “You dare to speak of rules when you don’t follow them?”

  “We’re protected by the agreement set by the House of Seven,” Trock argued. “You can’t harm me! That was the agreement when we submitted to having our magic governed by the House.”

  Liv looked around casually. “Thing is, I don’t see anyone here to stop me.” She twitched one finger to the side and the ropes around the goblin tightened, making his face instantly grow a shade darker. The goblins around them shrank back from the sight. Liv took another step forward. “Now, this is how it’s going to go under my law. You’re going to stop stealing from mortals; no more taking their possessions. As stated in the agreement, you can have that which is lost or discarded, but under no circumstances are you to steal anymore. Do you understand?”

  The goblin sneered at her, his large eyes bulging.

  “Look, I get that words are hard, so a simple yes will suffice,” Liv said, still pointing her finger in Trock’s direction.

  His expression didn’t change.

  She nodded calmly. “Very well.” Liv swept her free hand at a row of squatty huts, sending them straight to the ground. Around her many of the goblins screamed with grief, running for the rubble of their houses.

  Liv held her hand out to another row of huts, probably filled with innocent people’s stolen goods. “Tell me, Trock, how long will it take you all to rebuild if I destroy everything?”

  “Don’t!” the chief yelled, hopping forward in his bindings. “We will stop! I promise!”

  Liv gave him a skeptical stare. “Are you sure? I know how hard it is for you goblins to behave yourselves.”

  Furiously the chief shook his head. “We will follow the agreement. You have my word. And we’ll return the goods we stole. Just leave here without doing any more dama
ge.”

  Liv nodded. “I’ll do you one better.” She swept her arm through the air, and the huts she’d destroyed rose back into place as if they’d never been demolished.

  Scratchy whispers issued from the goblins as they marveled at the magic. Goblins’ magic was restricted to finding spells like the ones that helped them locate the riches they’d stolen that day, and those fireballs they could throw. They didn’t have powers close to those of the magicians, and rebuilding their houses would have taken a long time.

  Liv rounded on the chief, giving him a serious look. She nodded once and the ropes binding him fell away. “Now, do as you promised, and return the items you stole.”

  Trock shook out his stumpy limbs and cracked his neck. “It’s getting late, magician. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

  Liv sighed, rolling her eyes. “That’s not what we agreed upon. I guess I’ll have to unleash my kitty on you.”

  From the darkened jungle on the other side of the closest hut, the sound of a furious lion roaring echoed through the camp, jolting the ground and making the leaves quake.

  The goblins all hopped from their places, grabbing the various stolen objects and hurrying off to return them as if they had fireballs chasing them.

  It’s not fire, but it will do, Liv thought as she watched them scurrying around.

  Chapter Three

  “Crack two eggs into a mixing bowl,” Liv read from the recipe book on her countertop.

  She took an egg from the carton and cracked it against the bowl with a bit too much force, knocking bits of shell in with it. “Oops. How do you get the eggshell back out?”

  Plato looked up from where he was sitting on a mountain of junk on the countertop. “You keep it out in the first place.”

  Liv dismissed him with a shake of her head. “That’s not very helpful, but you already knew that.” She dumped the egg into the sink and tried cracking another one. This time she was successful.

  “So, although I like the mystery of never knowing what I’ll find when I sit on a heap of stuff,” Plato began, looking around, “I was thinking you might want to consider cleaning up the place.”

  Liv gazed around at her studio apartment, which looked more like a war zone than a place where someone lived. “I’m due at work in less than an hour, and I still need to practice the disguising spell Rory taught me. When do I have time?”

  “Well, don’t waste your energy using magic to clean the place, especially since you haven’t eaten anything yet and your reserves are low.”

  Pulling out all three of the drawers in her kitchen, Liv looked around furiously for a whisk. The oil in the pan was nearly too hot. “And it looks like I might starve at this rate. Who knew that cooking was so hard?”

  “You know that you don’t have to cook all of your meals,” Plato reminded her.

  She grabbed a fork and began whipping the eggs. “I’m tired of eating from the bakery down the street. I need my leather pants to fit, or I’ll have to get a bigger cape to hide my ass.”

  “Magicians who regularly practice magic are rarely overweight, and a Warrior shouldn’t have any problems at all.”

  Liv nodded. One of the best benefits of being a magician was that she wouldn’t get fat. “Honestly, I just want to try to be a bit more self-sufficient. It would be nice not to eat out for every meal. And it’s getting expensive.”

  “You could be eating at the House of Seven,” Plato stated.

  Liv grimaced. “Then I’d have to talk to people, and I’m pretty sure that might kill me.”

  “You like talking to some people,” he observed.

  Liv poured the half-beaten eggs into the pan, making the oil crackle and pop. “She’s different.”

  Plato stretched, causing a pile of overdue bills to slide to the floor. They landed on a heap of dirty laundry.

  “Hey now, I had that sorted just the way I like it,” Liv grumbled.

  “Speaking of food.” Plato looked around. “Have you seen my food dish? It seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle.”

  Liv pursed her lips, pushing aside grocery bags and dishes on the counter. “Yeah, sorry about that. I really do need to clean up this place. I just don’t know when I’ll have the time. Rory insists that I sleep, which means I have time for little else when I’m out fighting goblins who steal trinkets and chasing down minotaurs who track mud through the streets of Spain or whatever other trivial cases the Councilors assign me.”

  Plato pushed his nose into another stack of papers, making most of them fall to the ground. He relished when he found his food bowl but frowned when he discovered it was empty.

  Liv’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, sorry. I forgot to get you food. I’ll do that today. Do you want some of my eggs?”

  Plato sniffed the air. “I don’t like burned food.”

  “Burned?” Liv looked up and ran over to the stove, where her eggs were smoking. “Damn it! When did taking care of myself and you get to be so hard?”

  Plato jumped off the counter and disappeared into the pantry. “I’ll be okay. I can always find something.”

  Liv turned off the burner and began scraping the eggs into the trash can. Those had been her last eggs, which meant there wasn’t anything else in the apartment that was edible. Well, besides the cat…

  She giggled to herself when a red velvet bag tied with a drawstring appeared atop the pile of disorganized junk on the countertop. Liv halted, regarding the bag with hesitation.

  “Ummm… I think I got a package, but I didn’t order anything,” Liv said, sliding the still-hot pan into the sink.

  Plato exited the pantry carrying a roasted drumstick in his mouth. He eyed the package and then set to work gnawing on the meat.

  “Hey, where’d you get that?” Liv asked, looking down at the feline.

  “Magic,” he told her coyly.

  Liv thought about asking for half but shook her head instead. “So, do you think whatever is in the bag is safe?”

  “Well, did it magically appear out of nowhere?”

  “Yes.”

  “And were you expecting anything from anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have any enemies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then probably it’s not.” Plato went back to work tearing the skin off the drumstick, which had steam rising off of it like it was still hot.

  Liv gave the cat a reluctant expression. “I don’t get you, Plato. You’re a very strange animal.” She came around the kitchen bar and regarded the bag with a long stare, expecting a goblin to jump out and try to punch her in the face. When nothing happened, she poked the bag and waited. Still nothing.

  Finally, too curious, Liv pulled at the drawstrings of the bag, opening it. “Here goes nothing,” she said, plunging her hand in. The thick papery material that greeted her hand was a complete surprise. Liv knew that sensation but hadn’t felt it in a while. She was holding a wad of cash when she pulled her hand from the bag.

  “Who sent this?” she asked, looking at the hundreds of dollars nestled in her hand.

  “I’m guessing the House of Seven,” Plato replied. “It must be payday.”

  “House of Seven?” Liv asked, setting the money on the counter next to the ever-growing pile of mail and bills. She dug into the bag again and found one more slip of paper. This one wasn’t as thick, and on it was written Weekly Earnings for Liv Beaufont.

  Her jaw hung open as she regarded the piece of paper and then the money. “I’ve been paid.”

  “Well, you didn’t think it was a volunteer position, did you?”

  “I mean, I knew they’d pay me, but I guess I expected leprechaun gold or gems or something else worthless in the real world. I never expected cash.”

  “They live in this world too, you know.”

  Liv grabbed the money and counted it properly, relishing in the excitement of having so much of it. “Yeah, but it doesn’t really feel like it. The Councilors and Warriors all seem like they are from a different wo
rld than the one we live in.”

  “They do reside in a different one, but theirs is actually in our world. Never forget that. They can’t get away from our world, which is why they are bound to protect it.”

  Liv regarded Plato for a moment, wondering what else he knew that he wasn’t saying. It would do no good to pry. He was a vault when he wanted to be.

  “Well, it looks like I can buy us an actual breakfast,” Liv said, pocketing the money. “I’ll also buy you some cat food on the way home from work. And catch up on my bills for once.”

  Plato chewed on a piece of meat. “May I also suggest that you use that money to make your life a little easier?”

  “I don’t think this is enough money to rid the world of Bianca Mantovani and her constant disapproving stares and remarks.”

  Plato snorted with laughter. “I’m afraid it isn’t. But I was actually thinking you could use it to hire a maid. Since you refuse to quit your shift at John’s shop, you need to farm out some of your other responsibilities.”

  “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea,” Liv said, looking around at the chaos and disorder that was once her safe haven, the first home she’d made for herself after her parents’ death. “And I guess I’ll get paid regularly, and this is way more than I make working for John.”

  “Which means…” Plato took a long, hard look at the kitchen, “that you can also afford to hire someone to cook for us, since you can’t do it.”

  “Hey, I could have magicked us some food,” Liv argued.

  Plato shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Remember that with domestic magic, if you don’t know how to do something, it’s that much harder when using magic.”

  “Right, so if I don’t know how to play the cello, then using magic won’t necessarily make it so that I can,” Liv stated.

  Plato nodded. “Magic makes your life easier, but it doesn’t replace skill.”

  “But I did control the wind last night, which was pretty cool.”

  “That’s elemental magic,” Plato stated. “Also remember that there are many different types of magic, and they cross over and their rules bleed together, which means—”