by Sarah Noffke
“Yes, tomorrow,” he affirmed.
Liv opened a portal to Ashland, Oregon, realizing there wasn’t much time before sunset.
“And Liv?” Stefan said from behind her.
She turned, giving him a questioning look.
“If I’m not here tomorrow, come looking for me and do what has to be done.”
Liv gulped. Nodded. Averted her eyes from his as she stepped through the portal.
Chapter Ten
The smell of rain was fresh in the air when Liv stepped through the portal onto a charming street in downtown Ashland, Oregon. The city was nestled in a tight, tree-lined valley, the green mountains making her feel like she was snuggled in a cozy blanket. The frigid wind that hit her in the face immediately contradicted that.
Liv pulled her hood over her head as she looked around the street, which was filled with boutiques and cafes. There were bright colors everywhere, as if the paint store had had a sale on primary hues. She was about to duck into a coffee shop to ask about Renswick when she noticed a park on the other side of a small plaza. The lush grass and autumn leaves weren’t what attracted her attention, though. It was the various characters wearing dreadlocks and baggy pants, some of them holding instruments and others dancing around or braiding each other’s hair.
“Bingo,” Liv muttered to herself, making her way over to the hippies on the grass. Even though their ears were glamoured, Liv knew they were elves. She’d started to notice that elves moved with a unique grace. They also were long and lanky, and usually had angular features.
As she approached, one of the men held out his arms. He had a long beard filled with colorful beads. The facial hair made him look much older than he was by mortal standards.
“Free hug,” he offered Liv. “They cost us nothing and give us so much. Studies show that twenty seconds is the perfect amount of time to hug. That’s when the medical benefits kick in.”
“Ummm…no,” Liv said, shaking her head at him.
Undeterred, he kept his arms wide, like she might change her mind at any time and he’d be ready for the embrace.
“I’m actually looking for someone and thought you all might be able to help,” Liv continued, having to speak loud to be heard over the guitar music.
“We’re all looking for someone,” a woman said, pulling up one of her feet and resting it on the inside of her leg, hands meeting in prayer as she balanced on one foot.
“Yes, well, I’m looking for someone specific, and I heard you all might be able to point me in the right direction,” Liv stated.
“It’s not often that we have a magician join us,” a man holding a guitar said, continuing to strum the strings. “Take a seat and let’s celebrate our uniqueness.”
“I’m actually on a tight schedule,” Liv stated.
The hippies gave each other a collective nod. “Magicians are always rushing and going. Never able to live in the moment. If you’re not careful, life will pass you by.”
Liv wanted to tell them that they could frolic and braid each other’s hair in the park because she and other magicians were out keeping the streets safe from demons and other monsters, but she knew better than to try to reason with a hippie. The hemp seed oil they used instead of soap obviously had killed most of their brain cells, making it impossible to have a logical conversation.
“I’m looking for Renswick Shoshawnawala. Can one of you point me in the right direction?”
The circle of elves fell suddenly silent.
The hippie who had offered her a hug dropped his arms, giving her a disappointed stare. “Renswick doesn’t like to have visitors. He doesn’t celebrate free love like we do. You’d be better off hanging out with us.”
“We’re about to put up a slackline and practice becoming one with the invisible force that connects us all,” the woman doing yoga said. “Why don’t you stick around for that?”
“Actually, I’ve been doing my own slacklining all day long,” Liv lied. “All tuckered out. What I really need is to speak with Renswick.” Liv pointed to the various large Victorian houses surrounding the park. “Does he live in one of these?” Mortimer had said that the house was impressive, and all of the ones here were bold and beautiful.
The guy with the guitar shook his head. “No, Renswick lives right there.” He pointed to an empty lot on a nearby hill covered in evergreens.
Liv blinked, thinking the fading sunlight was playing tricks on her. She was about to declare that she didn’t see anything when a house that more closely resembled a church materialized. It was a gothic Victorian, with many spires and unique attention to detail. Gargoyles perched on various places of the roof, which was covered with spikes. The house was painted in varying shades of grays and black. There was only one light on in the entire building—on the third floor at the top of the tallest tower.
Liv wasn’t sure why, but she shivered, feeling a deep chill at her core.
“Renswick doesn’t leave his house, and he doesn’t allow visitors,” the girl explained.
“But I have to see him,” Liv said adamantly. “It’s really important.”
“We’ve tried to include him, but he says that our ways are frivolous and a waste of time,” the free-hugging hippie shared.
Liv already liked Renswick better than the rest of them. “Can one of you please help me get a meeting with him?”
They laughed like they were suddenly drunk on cherry wine.
“I’m afraid we’d only hurt your chances with Renswick,” the woman told her.
“Well, it’s really important that I speak to him. Do you have any suggestions?” Liv asked.
The hippie with the guitar smiled. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is make it past his guards. Then he’ll see you.”
“Guards?” Liv questioned. “Does he have a dog or something?”
The hippies blinked at her in surprise. “No, you can see the guards clearly from here.”
Liv scanned the house, seeing nothing but the building and the gargoyles that adorned it. Then it dawned on her. “Wait, are you saying that the gargoyles are the guards?”
The hippies laughed. “Of course they are,” the woman said.
“And how do I get past them?” Liv asked.
The guy with the guitar shrugged. “It’s been a long time since anyone has dared to take on the challenge. What was his name? Thorn?”
They all nodded.
“Yes, Thorn was the last one to try to go in there,” the woman stated.
“And what happened to him?” Liv asked.
“He’s floating with the birds.”
“Wow, Renswick killed him for knocking at his door?” Liv questioned.
“Oh no,” the guy with beads in his beard said. “He’s just gone insane. He spends most days floating in the lake, paddling around next to the ducks.”
“What did Renswick do to him?”
The hippies looked at each other for an answer. When no one supplied one, they directed their gaze at Liv and shrugged.
In pure hippie fashion, they’d been only mildly helpful, leaving Liv with more questions than answers. Still, she made up her mind to set off for the large gothic house, wishing she knew what she was getting herself into. Risking her sanity to talk to an eccentric elf about demons didn’t seem like the smartest thing she’d done in a while, but she couldn’t let Stefan down.
She took a tentative step in the direction of the house, looking at the hippies. “Thanks for your help. Wish me luck.”
“There’s no such thing as luck, but depending on your zodiac, you might need to wait until Mars moves into your eighth house, conjoining you with unexpected outcomes to life’s problems,” the woman imparted.
“Yeah, thanks,” Liv said, shaking her head at the elves. “I think I’ll try my hand at luck anyway.”
Chapter Eleven
“Why can’t I ever be sent to some normal person for help?” Liv asked Plato, looking up at the dark house towering in front of her.
“Because you didn’
t go into accounting,” he answered.
“I didn’t go into magic, either. It sort of chose me.” The handle on the wrought iron gate screeched when Liv lifted it. “So, what do you make of this place?”
“It’s haunted, for one,” Plato said, following her as she entered the yard.
Looking back at the park, she noticed the elves all watching her with interest. She waved sarcastically at them, plastering a giant fake grin on her face.
“I think the hippies took a liking to you,” Plato observed, looking back as the group waved cheerfully back at Liv.
“That’s good, I guess. I don’t need any more enemies.”
“Yes, and rumor has it that if you piss off a hippie, you’re cursed to have GMOs in your food for eternity,” Plato joked.
Liv gave him a proud smile. “Nice one.” Directing her attention to the house again, Liv pushed her hood onto her shoulders. “Haunted, you say? I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”
“I wouldn’t be either,” Plato began. “However, poltergeists aren’t as delightful.”
Liv froze. She didn’t have any experience with poltergeists. “Wait, I thought the guards were gargoyles?”
Plato indicated the corner of the yard with his head. “I think it’s both. Incoming.”
A small boulder was rolling through the air in Liv’s direction, headed straight for her. She did the first thing she could think of and dropped to the soggy earth, her fingers pressing into the soft dirt. The boulder rushed over her head, turning around when it got to the other side of the yard. Like a bull about to charge, it rotated and sped forward again, appearing to build up speed.
Liv gave Plato an annoyed look. “Must be nice to be short right now.”
“It is,” he agreed. “It’s even better that I can do this.” The lynx disappeared, leaving Liv alone in the yard.
She sighed, pushing to her feet and directing her hand at the boulder speeding in her direction. It exploded into a hundred tiny pieces, sending debris all over the place. Liv shielded her face from the dust as applause broke out from the park. She chanced a look, to find the hippies all cheering her on, having seen her nearly not escape the mad boulder.
Liv managed a smile in return, keeping her attention on the yard. She was expecting another rock to be flung at her, but a cracking noise overhead stole her attention. Liv glanced up. The stone gargoyles were looking down at her, their wings flapping like they might take off at any moment.
The door to the house was only fifteen yards away. Liv debated making a run for it, but she didn’t want to be trapped on the porch if she couldn’t easily defeat the four gargoyles glaring down at her. That was when she noticed words etched over the front of the porch. She squinted, reading aloud:
“That which you resist persists.”
Was this a riddle or just Renswick’s favorite quote? Liv wasn’t sure, but she figured she’d take the direct approach with his guards.
“Hey there,” Liv sang. “I’m just here to see Renswick. Totally not a big deal. Is it cool if I just knock at the door?”
The closest gargoyle opened his mouth and leaned over the edge of the roof. Liv wasn’t sure if it was going to say something in response to her question. It wasn’t.
Fire streamed from the gargoyle’s mouth, shooting straight at her. A second time, Liv dove out of the way, doing a front roll to avoid the flames.
The hippies yelled from the park, switching from worry to relief when it was clear that Liv hadn’t been harmed.
A gargoyle lifted off the corner of the house, diving in her direction with its large stone wings flapping.
Liv didn’t think that ducking a third time would get her out of this mess. Pulling out Bellator, she stood strong. The flying gargoyle sped up, its black eyes narrowed on her. Liv didn’t budge from her spot, just tightened her grip on Bellator. When the gargoyle swept by her, claws extended, Liv swung the sword at it, and the metal clanged on the stone. Unharmed, the gargoyle flew back up to the top of the house. Beside it, two more gargoyles materialized.
Wait, what, Liv thought. They’re multiplying?
“Behind you!” the hippies yelled from the park.
Liv stooped and spun around just in time to see a tombstone rising into the air, bringing up clumps of mud as it lifted free from the ground. Swinging a sword at a giant tombstone seemed like a dumb idea, so Liv did the only other thing she could think of. She ran.
She darted toward the side of the yard, which was overgrown and filled with many other stones. After she’d hurdled over several slabs, she realized this was a cemetery.
Gross, she thought. Who builds their house on top of a cemetery? And then a different thought occurred to her. What if the house was there first and the graves were new additions? What if they were people who had tried to get past the guards and failed?
Liv heard something moving fast behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see not only the tombstone but also two gargoyles racing in her direction. She considered using the same spell she had on the boulder, but it didn’t feel right to blast a tombstone into pieces.
In her hands, she felt Bellator tug. At first, she thought it was a trick of her imagination, but then it happened again, this time harder, nearly pulling her off her feet, and Liv realized that a mausoleum was beside her. To her surprise the wrought iron gate was half-open, lighted candles illuminating the entrance from the other side. Swerving, Liv sprinted into the building, pressing her back up against the wall. The sounds of movement faded.
Holding Bellator out like a mirror, Liv tried to gauge what was happening outside. The tombstone had halted in midair and was wavering like it was trying to decide what to do next—or rather, the poltergeist that controlled it was.
The gargoyles had landed on the grass and were marching back and forth in front of the mausoleum.
They can’t or won’t come in here, Liv realized.
She pushed away from the wall, careful to stay out of the doorway. Was it because this was a tomb that they didn’t dare enter? Or was there something special about this one?
Taking careful steps to the stone casket in the center of the small tomb, Liv searched for a name. She wiped her fingertips over the cobwebs covering the side of the casket, noticing how many letters there were. Before she had it entirely cleaned off, she already knew what it said: Shoshawnawalla
Liv wondered for a moment if Renswick was a vampire and this was where he spent his days. The waning sunlight meant that if he was a vampire, he’d be up soon. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Then she noticed the engraved words on the front of the casket. They read, Delilah, May the Peace that Eluded You on Earth Find You in the Afterlife.
Delilah Shoshawnawalla? Liv wondered. Was that Renswick’s mother? Grandmother? Or—
Bellator twitched in Liv’s hand, the point directed up suddenly. She eyed the sword, curious about its new and strange behavior. Had this been what Stefan was talking about when he said swords were useful for other things besides fighting? It did seem to be acting like a compass for her, but she didn’t understand how or why. It had pointed her to safety, though, getting her away from the flying tombstone, followed by the stone gargoyles.
Her gaze flew up to where the tip of Bellator was pointing. Above the door were the same words as above the porch: That which you resist persists.
What did that imply? Liv wondered. At face value, she knew what it meant. If you oppose something, you bring it to yourself. But what did it mean in the context of this situation?
Plato appeared beside her, yawning like he hadn’t just popped into a mausoleum while gargoyles stalked her outside.
“Where you been?” Liv asked him, looking up as something thudded on the roof.
“Scrapbooking about our latest adventures,” he responded, not missing a beat.
A gargoyle knocked on the side of the building, sending dust and dirt raining down from overhead. Liv covered her eyes. “Did you use the album with rose-scented pages I go
t for you?”
He smirked. “Yes, but I noticed that we don’t have very many selfies.”
“Many?” Liv questioned as the ground under her shook. The gargoyles weren’t happy—that much was clear. They weren’t coming in, but something told her that they were hoping to frighten her out.
“We don’t have any, actually,” Plato corrected.
“Do you want me to pause and take a selfie of us now?” Liv asked, looking around as the gargoyles began circling the building. She didn’t want to get trapped, but that was exactly what she’d done.
“I don’t think the lighting is quite right for picture-taking in here,” Plato said.
“Which is exactly the reason we shouldn’t do that in here right now,” Liv joked.
“Well, and also, I don’t show up on film or camera screens,” Plato stated casually.
“Of course you don’t,” Liv replied dryly. “So, strange cat, do you have any bright ideas on how I can get out of here?”
“Teleport?”
Liv shook her head. “No. I came all this way to talk to this expert on demons. If I leave, Stefan will be that much farther from a solution.”
“And if you don’t, you’ll be that much closer to joining his lady in this box.”
Liv pursed her lips. “Show some respect.”
“What happened when you tried to battle the gargoyles?” Plato asked.
“Nothing, really,” Liv said, spinning around as something rocked the back wall.
“Think, Liv,” Plato encouraged, making her pause. She looked down at the cat, realizing he knew the answer but was trying to lead her to it.
“Will you just tell me what the answer to this riddle is?”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Are you bound by some secrecy act that governs lynxes?” she joked.
“Exactly,” he answered at once.
“I was kidding. That can’t really be a thing.”
He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Okay, fine. You hide the truth. That’s your deal.” Liv tapped her leg, trying to think with the constant thudding around the building. “So, when I ran from the gargoyle’s fire, that made another one attack me. And then...” The ground vibrated under her feet again, causing the lid on the casket to rattle. “And when I tried to fight the gargoyle, it didn’t work, and it multiplied. Then when I ran…” Liv’s eyes trailed back up to the phrase over the door. “Are you saying that the longer I resist these gargoyles, the more they are going to come after me? If I fight them, they’ll only get worse, multiplying and who knows what else?”