by Sarah Noffke
“Very good,” he said in a raspy voice, sweat beading on his forehead. “I think that’s good for today.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You did promise me you’d tell me before you set off for the Kingdom of the Fae,” Clark said, leaning against a bookcase in the library, his arms crossed.
“I said I’d tell you before I went off to get myself killed, and I didn’t do that, did I?” Liv retorted, sitting on one of the oversized couches and flipping through the book Rory had given her, Mysterious Creatures.
“Liv,” he said in that warning voice he always used.
“There was nothing you could have done, and you know full well that I had to complete the case,” Liv reasoned. “So I figured out a strategy and executed it.”
Clark released a tight laugh. “The Council is still stumped by how you did it. Your notes said you dressed like a fae and appealed to Queen Visa from a different angle.”
Liv nearly snorted. “Yeah, I sort of left out some details.”
“Well, how did you get the queen to agree?”
Liv looked around, catching Sophia’s eyes on the other side of the sitting area. She was curled up with several books, her attention mostly on her sister and brother, although she pretended to be reading most of the time.
“I’ve got the spy-finder spells operating,” Sophia stated. “You should be safe.”
Liv nodded. “I enlisted the help of a fae.”
Clark sighed. “The same one you gave the Warrior’s ring to?”
“I didn’t give it to him,” Liv countered. “He’s borrowing it so we can discover the lost memory.”
Clark motioned to the wall covered with the founders’ language. “However, if we had it right now, we could try to open the ancient chamber or whatever is behind this wall.”
Liv reluctantly agreed. “Yeah, it’s the first time I’ve been here in a while that Stefan Ludwig isn’t hanging around.”
Clark dragged in a breath. “Between the three of us, I don’t know about him.”
“Why?” Liv asked, leaning forward and thinking about the time Stefan had tried to follow her.
“I don’t know,” Clark replied. “I’m certain he’s hiding something from the Council.”
Liv was sure he was, but what she hadn’t determined was if it was something good or bad. Not all things Warriors kept secret from the Council were bad. She could attest to that.
Sophia squeezed her eyes shut and waved her finger through the air. In front of them, a round pillow materialized on the table, frilly pink ribbons and lace adorning it.
Liv and Clark watched with curiosity as the girl referenced one of the many books beside her. Then she closed her eyes again and stroked her finger through the air as if she were writing in cursive. On the front of the pillow, the letters P-L-A-T-O stitched into place.
Liv laughed. “You made him a bed?”
Sophia shook her head. “It’s not supposed to have so much lace.”
“He’s going to love it,” Liv stated.
“Do you think he’ll stay with you here at the House of Seven?” Sophia asked.
Both Liv and Clark answered at once, her saying “yes,” and him replying the opposite with a sharp, “No.”
Liv cast him an annoyed stare. “Of course, he will.”
“Come on, Liv,” Clark argued. “We can’t have a lynx staying with us. What if the Council finds out?”
“They won’t,” Liv retorted. “He’s a master at hiding himself. No one has ever caught him.”
Clark lowered his chin. “Which is exactly why you have to be wary of that creature. He’s not normal.”
“Says the magician born with royal blood that can open ancient chambers,” Liv stated dryly.
“This is different, Liv,” Clark stated. “You’re involving yourself with lynxes and giants and fae and mortals. It isn’t safe.”
“Why?” she countered.
“We’ve already been through this,” Clark said with a tired sigh, pushing away from the shelf.
“Yes, and all you can offer me is prejudice that explains nothing,” Liv countered. “What if we’re all separate, but that’s not how it was meant to be? What if we forged bonds, and I’m not referring to those stuffy little agreements the Council makes me negotiate.”
“Liv, I’m all for being open-minded, but you can’t delude yourself into thinking they are the same as us,” Clark explained. “Magicians were put on this Earth to protect magic. We’re the civilized race that has always craved justice with magic. We will sacrifice freedoms to ensure that powers aren’t abused.”
Liv flipped through her book, thoroughly tired of having this conversation with Clark. She was surprised when the book stopped on a random page that didn’t feel so random. She sat up, clearing her throat. “Magicians are one of the least understood creatures. Considered to be more civilized than the other races, they’ve been governing since the beginning, with the inception of the House of Seven. However, their practices are often seen as arbitrary by outsiders, and their methods unchecked. Many wonder how they became the constabularies of the magical world without question. Is it that the elves simply don’t care, and the giants prefer anonymity, and the gnomes like having a governing body that does their dirty work? There is no consensus on this, and the history doesn’t tell a straightforward story. It is clear that the one magical race cloaked in the most mystery is the magicians.”
Liv shut the book, giving Clark a victorious look.
“Written by a giant,” he said, having spied the name of the author: Bermuda Laurens.
Liv rolled her eyes. “It’s not just in this book. I can’t find the names of the founding families anywhere.”
“They are in the ancient chamber,” Clark reasoned.
“But why? Why isn’t there this giant history book that explains exactly how the House of Seven was formed?” Liv argued.
“Because that would undoubtedly detail our weaknesses,” Clark fired back.
“You say that in an almost rehearsed manner,” Liv said. “Is that one of Adler’s lines?”
“No,” Clark said, biting off the word. Then he shook his head. “Yeah, fine. But he’s right. If we put our history out there for everyone to read about the magic that formed the House of Seven, that would put weapons in our enemies’ hands. They might find out how to enter the House. They would know how we are governed. They would know more than they should.”
“And yet, we keep it such a secret that even the royals don’t know the history,” Liv countered.
“It’s for the best,” Clark said, rubbing his knuckles into his forehead the way he did when he was frustrated.
“I’m not so sure.” It was actually Sophia who communicated her dissent.
Clark shook his head at his little sister. “I agree there is something going on. I still haven’t figured out what the deal is with the canisters, but that’s separate from what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe,” Liv said, uncertainty in her tone.
“And despite my digging, I can’t find anything nefarious about the storage area you discovered in the monastery,” Clark stated.
“How so?” Liv inquired.
“Well, those canisters of magic are rare—”
“Not if you were in the room I was in,” Liv interrupted. “There were several hundred. It was almost blinding.”
“Right, but in the scheme of things, they are considered rare,” Clark said dismissively. “From everything I can learn from doing research, storage units of magic like that are dangerous because there are no controls on them. Anyone, like unregistered magicians, can use them to do anything they want and get away with it. You’ll remember that Valentino was ready to use the power for his own selfish gains. It’s not a safe form of magic, so maybe they are being stored in that place to keep them away from those who would abuse them.”
“Maybe,” Liv said, reluctance in her voice again. She saw a figure materialize at the far end of a row. Stefan’s im
age might not have even registered, except that he’d poked his head into the light of a neighboring row. Once he caught sight of the three in the reading area, he’d disappeared back into the row. Why was he always hanging out in this area? Had he been trying to spy on them and realized that charms had been used to prevent that?
Liv leaned forward. “Hey, Soph, will you put a disguising spell on me?”
“For sure,” the young magician squealed, hopping up to her feet, her pink dress and curls bouncing with the movement.
“Wait, why are you having her do it?” Clark questioned. “You know how to do it, right? Please tell me the giant hasn’t neglected your training that badly?”
Liv wanted to ignore him, but not at the expense of Rory’s good name. “Of course he hasn’t. I daresay you couldn’t find me in a game of hide-and-seek.”
Sophia giggled. Clark scowled. It was the new family dynamic that Liv was becoming accustomed to, and sort of enjoying.
“I want Sophia to do it so that it’s not trackable, since her magic isn’t registered yet.” Liv waved in a “hurry up” fashion. “Will you please? I’m going to follow someone if I can catch up with him.”
Sophia nodded, pressing her finger to her chin, thinking. “Here, how about this?” She waved her hand in the air, and the next thing Liv knew her form had disappeared.
“Did you make me invisible?” Liv asked, impressed. She had expected Sophia to make it so she blended into her surroundings or took on an image another person expected to see. There were literally hundreds of disguising spells, but invisibility was rare and took an extraordinary amount of energy.
Sophia nodded with a suddenly tired face. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” Liv said, wanting to rush forward to scoop up the little girl, who looked like she might pass out at any moment.
To her surprise, Clark stepped forward, looking in the direction he’d last seen Liv. “Go on, then. Do what you were going to do. I’ll take care of this little one. She’ll need a nap now.”
Liv smiled. “And a cookie.”
“Three,” Sophia said, sounding a bit delirious.
Liv didn’t look back as she hurried off, hoping to catch up with Stefan before he got away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The streets of the city were strangely deserted when Liv stepped through the portal Stefan had created. Rory had recently taught her how to stall a portal from closing by, in effect, throwing her foot in.
The chilly air next to the canal was a stark contrast to the weather in Santa Monica where they’d come from.
Stefan had already traveled quickly down the cobbled street by the time Liv snuck through the portal, slipping through just before it closed. She slid into the shadows of a building, its windows decorated with planters overflowing with flowers. In the distance, she heard laughter and jazz music. This place was cheery, even with the sun setting and the lamps flickering to life.
Liv peeked out of her hiding spot as Stefan disappeared around a corner. The invisibility cloak that Sophia had put on her had worn off, but it had gotten her this far. “What are you up to, Stefan?” Liv muttered to herself.
“This is Amsterdam,” Plato said, who was now at her side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liv asked, peering down at the cat.
“Well, there are a number of things the Warrior could be doing. For instance, in that direction is the famed red light district.” He tilted his head toward where Stefan had gone.
“Eww.”
“Or he could be working a case for the Council,” Plato reasoned.
“He might, but something tells me that he’s up to something or working a rogue case,” Liv stated, coming out of her spot and hurrying down the lane.
“Why, because that’s what you do in your spare time?” Plato asked.
Liv ignored him. “Stefan followed me. Logic would prove that he was suspicious of my activities because he’s also hiding something.”
“Oh, so you mean a liar is the first to think someone is lying? A sneak is always paranoid that someone is spying on them? It’s like a form of reflection?”
“Yes, that’s the idea,” Liv answered.
“Or maybe he was just following you because you were in fact up to something: stealing treasures from museums and breaking into monasteries,” Plato mused.
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Stefan Ludwig is up to something too, and I’d like to figure it out.”
“It seems that many in the House of Seven have that mystery and secret cloaking them,” Plato stated.
“And the only way to find out the secrets Ian and Reese alluded to is to investigate,” Liv stated.
“So, do you think that Stefan is tied up in their deaths?” Plato asked.
“I’m not ruling anything out, but if he is, I’m going to shove Bellator straight down his throat and make him wish he’d never met Liv Beaufont.”
Plato smirked. “That should be your motto.”
“It totally should be,” she agreed. “I think most people wish they’d never met me, but that’s mostly because I’m sort of a pain in the ass.”
“Sort of?” Plato questioned.
“Watch it, lynx, or you’ll wish you’d never befriended me.”
He shook his head. “I never regret a decision. Call it my expert foresight.”
Liv regarded him with a curious stare. “Right. And how is it that you found me that one day on the streets five years ago? You’ve never mentioned it.”
“Haven’t I?” Plato countered, his eyes focusing up ahead. “Looks like Stefan is getting away. We should continue this later.”
“If I know you, that means ‘never.’” Liv doubled her pace before coming to a halt at the corner where Stefan had disappeared. The glow of the red lights reflected along the road there, giving a hint of what could be found around the bend. She didn’t know what she’d find Stefan doing, but she hoped it wasn’t visiting a brothel. Then again, that was more innocent than the other horrid possibilities going through her mind. Could he be behind the missing canisters of magic? Was he helping to cover up the secrets about the House of Seven? Did he know what happened to her parents? She had so many questions, and the only way she was going to get answers was to pursue every lead.
Peering around the corner, Liv found a row of shops, their ‘merchandise’ dancing in display windows. People strolled by on the sidewalk, but to her disappointment, Stefan wasn’t around. Damn it, did I let him get away? Liv wondered sourly.
Plato’s ear twitched to the side.
“You hear something?” she asked him, noticing the movement.
“I hear a lot of things, but there’s one sound in particular that I haven’t heard in quite some time.”
“Which way?” Liv inquired.
“Around the back of that shop.” Plato indicated the store in front of them.
Nodding, Liv edged along the wall, trying to not move too quickly but also not look like a sneak following a magician. It was a balancing act. Most of the people on the street at that hour didn’t seem to pay her much attention, too entranced in conversations with the person beside them or the moves of the women under the red lights.
Liv hurried through the alley between the shops, which was mostly in darkness. She negotiated around puddles and over anything that would make a noise and give away her presence. Then she heard it—the noise Plato must have picked up on. A slow screeching, like metal scraping against metal.
Liv slid up next to the wall, a violent shiver rippling down her back. She knew for a fact that whatever that noise was, it wasn’t as innocent as someone pushing a metal cart over a metal incline or whatever it was. In her core, she knew the noise was connected to evil and darkness the likes of which she’d never met.
“What is that?” she mouthed to Plato.
He blinked at her, seeming to deliberate. Pull out your sword, he answered in a voice she heard in her head, as if they’d suddenly forged a telepathic link.
Pul
ling Bellator from its sheath, Liv continued down the alley, the sound growing fainter as she neared it.
Ragged breaths that sounded like cardboard being sawed in half replaced the screeching. Liv halted at the corner, preparing herself, or at least attempting to do so. When she peered around the corner, she almost gasped, nearly exposing her presence.
Nothing in the world could have actually prepared her for what she saw.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stefan never got used to the smell. How could anyone? It haunted him at night, lingering in his nostrils, reminding him of what he’d become if he didn’t find the cure to that which plagued him.
He’d kill himself first, though. He’d already made up his mind about that one. But he still had time. Not much, but hopefully enough.
The demon he’d clutched in his hand wasn’t the one who had bit him. Stefan knew that. It had the same red, slimy skin, veins running down the side of its face like its insides were on the outside. However, this demon had several horns around its cheekbones and many more on its head.
Sabatore, the demon who’d sunk his rows of razor-sharp teeth into Stefan’s arm, marking him with a curse, had two prominent curved horns mounted on his head and a silver ring through his nose.
“Tell me where I can find him?” Stefan urged in a tight whisper, holding the demon up higher on the wall and pressing the sword deeper into its torso.
The sound that spilled over the demon’s quivering lips was not intelligible.
“I know you speak English, you good-for-nothing piece of shit.” All the demons spoke every language—Stefan had learned that—although they preferred to communicate through howls and screeches that haunted mortals long into the night. These were the beasts who corrupted good people, filling them with greed and paranoia, making them commit horrible acts and perpetuating evil in the world. Yes, evil would exist without demons. It always had, but as they spread, so did hate so vicious it sought to take over the world.