by Sarah Noffke
Although it took all her effort to keep the sword aloft, Liv knew she could manage Turbinger. Not for long, but she didn’t need much time.
Bring my enemy to me, the sword directed in her mind. I’ll destroy him.
How do you know I’m not your enemy? she dared to ask.
I know.
The elf sucked the energy from another gem, making it turn black and crumble to dust in the open case. He hurled a streak of fire at Liv, but unlike before, she didn’t dodge as it soared toward her. Instead, her eyes stayed pinned to it, her fingers tensed on the hilt of the sword.
She didn’t even feel in control as she waited until the last possible moment, swinging the sword around to combat the fire, knocking it back to where it had originated like a baseball player hitting a home run.
The elf realized a moment too late what had happened. The fire knocked him to the ground, flames and smoke erupting around him.
Go!
As if she had been pushed, Liv charged toward the elf with the sword in her hand. She felt the rage of a hundred wars pouring through her veins, and vengeance thick on her tongue. Liv tasted every battle the sword had ever been in, which was both exhilarating and scary. She wanted to throw the sword down, but it was melded to her hands, unrelenting.
Everything was a blur until she found herself standing over the elf, who was cringing, his hands covering his face as he rolled back and forth, trying to extinguish his own fire.
“What you seek to burn will scorch you from the inside out,” Liv said, but the words weren’t her own. She didn’t even know where they’d come from. “This feud is soon to be over. The power will shift. Tell them.”
The elf scooted to his rear end, pushing himself backward as Liv swung the giant’s sword to the left and right in a fluid motion.
“They will kill me if I return without it,” the elf yelled, his voice tearful. He reached out. “You might as well murder me.”
Turbinger wanted to. Liv felt the bitter yearning from the sword to slice through the elf before them, a force she felt powerless to control. However, from somewhere in the depths of her soul, she rallied a strength she didn’t even know she had. As the sword swung around, possessed by its own desire, Liv wrestled it down. The blade sliced the elf’s extended arm, the one he had stretched out to beg for mercy in the form of death.
The elf jerked back holding his bleeding arm, shock and disappointment on his face. Liv held the sword down by her side even though it was fighting her grip, trying to be swung again.
“Go! Run! Get out of here. I never want to see you again!” Liv yelled, straining against the sword’s simmering power.
“But you don’t understand. They will hunt me down,” the elf said, cradling his arm.
“Who? Who do you work for?”
The elf looked at the sword, which had started to glow as if the anger within it was seeping out. It jerked in Liv’s grasp, and she knew that soon she wouldn’t be able to control its power. Turbinger would break free.
“Go!” Liv yelled.
The elf, needing no more encouragement, sprinted from the room, leaving Liv exhausted and holding what she believed to be the deadliest weapon in the world.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The gem room had been destroyed. Liv didn’t know how she could repair it so that no one noticed what had happened. Although she’d put out the fires, the scorch marks and smell of smoke gave away that a battle had happened there. And the gems. How was she going to replace the ones the elf had turned to ash? It had never been her plan to destroy part of the museum to get the sword, although in the morning, the Natural History Museum would know it had been stolen. The cameras wouldn’t tell them anything since they’d been disabled from the start, but the gem room? She had to fix it.
With the battle over, it was harder to carry Turbinger, which was nearly as tall as she was and weighed much more than she did. She dragged it back in the direction she’d come, looking for Freddy.
She found the brownie arranging carvings in the exhibit next to the sword room. Propped against the wall and sleeping peacefully were the museum curator and three men.
Freddy turned as she approached, polishing one of the stone fetish carvings with a thoughtful look on his face. “I see you were successful,” he said, glancing at the sword that was now resting on her shoulder, its weight pinching her skin.
“I got Turbinger, so for that I’m grateful,” she said, finding she was suddenly out of breath.
“You sound disappointed,” Freddy observed, placing the carving on a glass shelf and retrieving another from a nearby box.
“The gem exhibit has been sort of destroyed,” Liv admitted.
“And the elf?”
Liv brought the sword down, its tip resting on the floor, her hands on the hilt. The elf’s blood marked the blade, reminding her that she’d nearly killed him. Well, Turbinger had. “I let him go.”
The brownie lifted an eyebrow, his hollow eyes full of curiosity. “That is a strange thing for a magician to do. He was your enemy.”
Liv shook her head. “I don’t know who he was or who sent him. But no, I don’t think he was my enemy. Only a pawn.”
Freddy nodded, turning back to the shelf to arrange the carvings. “And you got what you came here for, which is all that matters.”
“It’s not all that matters,” Liv said, feeling the weight of everything that had happened in the last hour pressing on her shoulders. “The way we do things is almost more important than the things we do.”
“Those are wise words,” the brownie said absentmindedly.
“My father used to say that,” Liv admitted, looking fondly at the mortals sleeping peacefully. She wished for a moment that she could be them, dreaming without a care in the world.
“I can fix the gem room,” Freddie said.
Liv’s chin jerked back in the brownie’s direction. “You can? How?”
“Well, I can’t replace anything that was lost, but I can clean it up so it doesn’t appear that a battle happened there.”
“Really? That would be fantastic!” Liv said, her chest lightening suddenly. “Thank you. And I guess a dozen gems missing in a collection of a few thousand will be okay. The museum will just think that whoever stole the sword also took those.”
“The authorities will be very curious about what happened on this night,” Freddie stated, a giggle in his voice.
“And the mortals?” Liv gestured in their direction. “What will they think?”
“They will awake not remembering anything and find their work all done,” Freddie explained, hopping down from the stool he’d been standing on. “I’ve wiped their memories since I didn’t want you to have to do it.”
A smile cracked Liv’s face. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful. The Council—”
“—shall not know.” Freddie finished her sentence. “Mortimer said you and he keep secrets from the Council. This will be one of them.”
“Wow, you really saved my butt tonight. I appreciate everything. If you hadn’t gotten to the sword first and hidden it, the elf would have it.”
Freddy picked up packing materials, folding them and laying them back in the boxes, taking great care with every action. He worked proudly and as if each task consumed his full attention. “I have never worked for a magician before. However, I’ve liked helping you tonight. You are different, Liv Beaufont, Warrior of the House of Seven.”
“Tell me about it,” Liv wise-craked. “I’m considered sort of uncooperative, and there is probably a whole list of names the Councilors call me behind my back.”
“The things people say behind your back are never worth your time,” Freddie told her as he worked. He looked up at her, a meaningful expression in his eyes. Liv noticed how old and wise he appeared. “Mortimer wanted me to give you this if I so desired.” He turned over his hand to reveal a small envelope sealed with wax and a symbol she supposed represented the brownies.
“If you so desired?” Liv hesitated, not grabbi
ng the letter although she wanted to.
“True character is revealed in battles,” Freddie stated. “When a warrior is faced with life and death, taking or giving, preserving or destroying, their real self comes out. Mortimer doubted that his loyalty in you was well-placed, but I think you have put his fears to rest tonight. I will communicate that to him, ensuring that the brownies are forever your servants.”
Liv’s mouth fell open. She didn’t know what to say, which might have been a first.
Freddy extended his hand, urging her to take the envelope. “You asked Mortimer for information on a canister of magic. I think he’s found clues for you, but I know no more than this. The letter will explain the rest.”
Her heart pounding with excitement, Liv reached for the letter. “Thank you. This is wonderful. I rescued the sword, and now this!”
Freddy nodded good-naturally, returning to his work organizing the carvings.
Liv slipped the letter into her cape and lifted the sword to her shoulder again. “I should get out of here, but I can help if you need me to.”
Freddy shook his head as he pulled out a rag to polish the carving he was working on. “I work better alone. All brownies do. And like I said, from this point forward, we are your servants. You have important business to attend to and should be off.”
“But you don’t have to be my servants,” Liv argued. “I never asked for it. And really, I think what the brownies and I have should be considered a mutual partnership.”
Freddy turned to face her, a strange smile making the many wrinkles on his face deepen. “You are exactly right. We don’t have to be your servants, and working for a magician is a first as far as I know. Brownies choose who they work for. We take great care deciding that. And if you’d rather call it a partnership, that’s up to you, although I don’t think it should really matter. The reality is that if you ever need us, all you must do is ask and we will be there to serve.”
Liv bowed her head in gratitude. “The reason I insist we call it a partnership is that the same is true of the brownies. If you ever need anything from me, I’ll be there to help as well.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Multiple times, Stefan had wanted to abandon his hiding place on the roof of the neighboring building and rush into the Natural History Museum to help Liv. However, he wasn’t sure that she’d see it as a good thing. And in truth, he wasn’t sure she needed his assistance. He just wanted to help, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. For a solid hour he watched the museum, seeing nothing but a few mortals leaving and returning with takeout and an elf hurrying away. Then he spotted streaks of fire inside the museum through the exterior glass walls. Something incredible was happening in there, and he was desperate to know what it was.
When Liv finally exited the museum, Stefan could hardly make out her form, as if she’d disguised it somehow. She was carrying something large, but from that distance, it was impossible to know what it was. He reasoned that if she’d used magic to disguise it, it might be impossible to tell what it was except up close.
He’d just have to get a closer look and find out where she was going. He was certain it wasn’t the House of Seven.
Stefan took three steps and leapt off the two-story building, landing gracefully on the ground below, never losing sight of Liv. However, when he went to take his next step, his feet were strangely stuck to the ground. He nearly fell to his hands and knees from the effort of trying to dislodge them. No spell that he tried unsealed his feet from the pavement. It didn’t make any sense. What sort of spell had been used on him? And when?
Jerking his head up as he pulled at his feet, Stefan watched as Liv disappeared down an alley, getting away from him. Following her was out of the question now. He’d never be able to catch up. She’d probably create a portal and disappear before he’d even crossed the street.
As if the seal had been broken by his disappointment, Stefan’s boots came free. His sudden momentum carried him several feet before he turned around to eye the place he’d been stuck. There were no markings on the sidewalk or any other clue why he’d been trapped there. However, as he continued to study the area, he noticed a cat sitting next to the building he’d been stationed atop. It was mostly white, with large black spots. When the feline stretched to a standing position, his tail, which was black save for the white tip, went up into the air.
Stefan didn’t think he imagined the smug look the cat gave him as it sauntered around the building and out of sight.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cloaking the sword had been Plato’s idea, and it had been a good one. Otherwise, Liv didn’t know how she would have looked walking through the streets of Los Angeles carrying a giant’s sword.
Putting a cloak on Turbinger hadn’t been easy, though. The sword, whose personality she was learning more about each moment she spent with it, didn’t want to be concealed. Finally, after explaining to the sword the importance of the cloak, it allowed the magic, hiding it from the view of passersby. Thankfully no one saw her leaving the museum, or when she stepped out of the portal onto Rory’s street. If they had, she would have looked like she was carrying a cello.
It was after midnight when she hauled the sword to Rory’s door. Not only would she be grateful to not have to carry Turbinger around anymore, but she’d also enjoy having her head back. While she held the sword, she heard its wants and thoughts and felt its memories. It wanted justice, a desire she could relate to. The sword thought of nothing but its masters throughout the centuries, and its memories were full of blood and battles and a pain unlike no other she’d ever experienced.
The lights in Rory’s house were off when she dragged the sword to the door. She’d never seen the house like this. Even at night, the lights from inside spilled out through the windows, casting the yards in brightness as if a full moon shone overhead.
Keeping two hands on Turbinger, Liv kicked the door.
No one answered.
Again she kicked at the door, almost expecting it to swing open like it usually did when she arrived. However, it appeared that the house’s occupant was asleep and hard to wake.
Liv kicked the door even harder, making a barrage of noise. She made a note that she’d have to wipe her footprints from its surface before she left.
“What do you want?” Rory yelled as he opened the door, confused outrage on his face. Kittens spilled from behind the door and tumbled over Liv’s feet, taking this opportunity to play. Rory’s eyes were red, and his face was partially covered by his messy hair. He pushed it out of his face, and his expression changed to one of pure disbelief.
“No!” He gasped. “Y-y-you did it.”
Liv offered him a confident smile. “You doubted me?”
“No, I just figured…” Rory reached for Turbinger but pulled back like he was afraid. “I thought it might take time. I didn’t expect…”
“I sort of think we should have a ceremony, but you’re not dressed for it and I’m tuckered out. What are you wearing, by the way?”
Rory came back to reality, dragging his eyes away from the sword long enough to look down at the dressing gown he was wearing. The sleeves were tied around his wrists with bows, and the bottom was trimmed with lace. “It’s my sleep shirt.”
“It’s a tent, and it has lace on it,” Liv stated.
“Here, come in.” Rory stepped back, waving her into his mostly dark house. The kittens followed, and when the door had closed, a flame erupted in the fireplace, offering just enough light.
Liv strained as she put her hand under the blade and lifted Turbinger so it was horizontal. “Rory, are you ready to take your grandfather’s sword, or would you like to put on pants first?”
He simply nodded, his eyes not wavering from the sword.
“Is that a yes about taking Turbinger or about putting on pants?” she joked, extending her arms, which shook from the fatigue of holding the weapon.
“I-I-I don’t know if I’m ready…” Rory backed up a s
tep.
Liv dropped her chin to her chest. “Are you serious? I nearly got all my hair burned off getting you this sword. And it’s a beast, so be warned. You don’t get to turn into a psychopath after taking hold of this thing.”
Combing his hand through his hair, Rory gawked at her. “I can’t believe you got it. I never expected…”
“Yes, we’ve established how little faith you had in my ability to complete this mission,” Liv told him, again holding the sword out a few inches. “Take Turbinger, Rory. It’s you it belongs to.”
With shaking hands, Rory reached out, his eyes buzzing with excitement. When he wrapped his hands around the hilt, he lifted the sword like it weighed nothing, holding it with practiced grace in front of him.
His eyes widened, and Liv knew exactly why. It was the voice of Turbinger running through his head. The images. The feelings. The unrelenting energy it possessed.
“Wow, I knew it was powerful, but I had no idea how powerful,” Rory exclaimed, closing his eyes and listening.
“The sword isn’t just powerful, it’s dangerous,” Liv informed him, “which is why I’m confident that if anyone should have it, it should be you. Someone needs to protect this weapon from whoever else wants it.” Liv began telling Rory the story of the elf at the Natural History Museum. He tested the balance of the sword many times as she told him what had happened. When she was done, he gave her an earnest look.
“I’m sorry that I put you in that kind of danger. I didn’t know others would be going after the sword.”
“Well, I don’t think they were,” Liv stated. “I think I triggered their attention when I first tried to get Turbinger.”
“Then maybe they didn’t want the sword for themselves,” Rory reasoned. “It’s been there for decades, and no one has tried to take it. Maybe they only didn’t want you to steal it and give it back to the giants.”
“But then there’s the question of why? Why did someone put the sword there in the first place, surrounding it with magical wards that kept you out? Why did they want to keep it away from the giants?”