by Sarah Noffke
“You’re starting to rely more on instinct,” Akio said after they finished sparring that afternoon. “Before you thought about your next move, but now you’re allowing Bellator to lead you more.”
As Liv toweled off in the training studio, she told Akio about how Bellator had acted like a guide when she’d been hunting demons.
He nodded, not at all surprised. “Warrior Ludwig is correct. Your sword is more than a weapon. If you treat it as a valuable friend, that is what it will become.”
“It’s funny that you both talk about swords like they are living beings,” Liv remarked, studying Bellator. It didn’t look any different after being used to slay Sabatore, but for some reason, it felt different.
With a serious expression, Akio said, “The difference between a good Warrior and a great one is the latter sees their weapon as having a pulse and a spirit. A good Warrior uses it as a tool, but your sword was created with a timeless magic. There is no other tool like that in the world, I can assure you of that.”
“So do you think that the skill Bellator offers me is about being my guide?” Liv asked, having thought about this at length lately. Turbinger’s mark was eventually lethal, and it stored every memory from every battle within it. Rory had said that the extra benefit a giant-made sword offered its bearer was unique and only surfaced when that person bonded properly with it.
“I think that could be one of the benefits,” Akio mused, running his studious eyes over the blade. “However, like any friend, the sword can offer different advantages depending on the situation.” He withdrew his own sword, which was curved, its hilt made of minotaur bones.
“Once when I was in battle, Rakurai illuminated my path in very much the same way your sword did for you recently,” Akio explained, referring to his own weapon, which his great-grandfather had named when he’d forged the blade for the grandson who would one day become a Warrior for the House of Seven.
“However, if I went into every battle expecting that of Rakurai, I might become too dependent on it and not use my own skills,” Akio stated. “It’s important to keep an open mind so that you don’t limit yourself or Bellator.”
This was fascinating to Liv. She hadn’t realized there was so much magic around weapons. They were alive, and that made her even prouder to be a Warrior. “What other benefits has Rakurai offered you?”
A slight smile wisped to Akio’s face. “It has guided me when I was lost, healed me when I was wounded, and directed my hand in battle. However, much like a relationship with a lover, some of the intimate details should remain private. That’s part of forming the bond that will furnish you with further benefits.”
“So, is Bellator supposed to be my friend or my lover?” Liv asked, growing confused, but that was typical when talking to Akio. He liked to talk in riddles, which she found somewhat entertaining.
“Shouldn’t every lover be your friend first?” Akio asked.
Liv nodded. “Yes, I guess people need to like each other before they love each other.”
Akio nodded.
Liv regarded Bellator with amusement. “I guess I should take you to dinner, then. Something with candlelight.”
Akio’s eyes flicked to the door as he straightened.
Liv turned to find his older brother standing in the doorway. Haro was watching them curiously.
“Do you need something from me, brother?” Akio asked.
Haro shook his head. “Unless you’d like to accompany us,” he said, motioning between Liv and him. “I was hoping that Warrior Beaufont would join me in my study for a drink.”
Liv tilted her head to the side, not expecting this invitation. She glanced at Akio with a question in her eyes.
“We are done training for today,” Akio said, seemingly dismissing her. “And I should devote the rest of my attention to my case, but thank you for the offer, brother.”
“Very well,” Haro said. “Warrior Beaufont, are you free to join me? I think it’s overdue that we speak.”
Liv didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t think she was supposed to be spending one-on-one time with Councilors, although there was nothing that strictly forbade it. She just didn’t know what Haro would want to talk to her about.
Intrigued, she strode in his direction. “Sure. I could use a drink after taking that beating.”
“You took it better than the last time,” Akio said with a laugh in his voice.
“Thank you…I think.” Liv waved as she followed Haro out. He was silent as he strode urgently down the hallway, his silk robes billowing out behind him. He looked almost exactly like his brother, although he was much older. Akio, she’d noticed, treated him more like a father figure than a brother. Maybe that was a part of their culture, or maybe it was due to the age difference.
When they’d come to the Takahashi residence, Haro held the door open for Liv. Their living space was very different from the suite where Clark and Sophia lived. Her siblings’ place was warm, with oil paintings and musical instruments. The furniture was reminiscent of old English design. In contrast, the Takahashi home had low tables and sitting areas. Decorative partitions sectioned off the main living room. Liv felt as though she had stepped through a portal into Tokyo.
“My study is through there,” Haro stated, indicating a door. “I thought that would be a nice place for us to talk, but if you prefer a more neutral territory, we can go to the main dining area. It’s just that it offers little privacy, and I prefer the sake I keep on hand rather than what the chef stocks.”
“This is fine,” Liv said, still unsure what Haro could possibly want to talk to her about. Why would they need privacy.
The study was similar in design to the main living area. It was rich with books and beautiful Japanese artwork.
When Haro indicated a seat, Liv stayed standing, her feet hips’ width apart and her hands clasped behind her back. This seemed acceptable to Haro since he gave her a minute nod, striding over to a table set up with beverages.
“I’m very impressed that you and Warrior Ludwig slew the master demon,” Haro said, pouring clear liquid from a decanter into small sake glasses.
“Thank you,” Liv stated. “I won’t say that was easy, but now that it’s done, hopefully, Stefan’s job will be more manageable.”
Haro handed her a drink. “A Warrior’s job will never be easy. When we blot out one evil, something rises up to replace it.”
“That’s a cynical view.” Liv lifted the sake to her nose, the fragrance constricting her nostrils at once. She wasn’t a fan of sake, but she also didn’t want to be rude. After taking a tiny sip, she kept her reaction to the strong liquor off her face.
Haro held up his glass, nodding to her as if they were toasting. “That it is. However, we exist as the House of Seven to keep balance among the world.”
Liv took another sip, wondering where this was going. She trusted Akio, but Haro was different. He’d voted for her to go to the kingdom of the Fae and hunt demons, two cases that many of the Councilors thought would take her out.
“You have created quite a stir among the council members,” Haro observed.
“Is that why you asked me here?” Liv asked.
Haro shook his head. “We will get to that in a moment. I simply wanted to point out the obvious. Adler thinks you have a disregard for authority.”
Liv laughed, unable to stop herself. “I have a distaste for dumb laws and imposing our will on other magical creatures.”
“You speak about justice the same way your mother did,” Haro stated, finishing his drink. “She often said that the council pushed laws but ignored justice.”
“What do you think?” Liv asked.
“I think it isn’t black and white,” Haro explained. “Some laws may be outdated. Do we overstep our bounds? It is hard to know, since our perspective is the only one that we see clearly. The council does its best to understand where our Warriors’ efforts might best be used, but we are invariably biased.”
“Don�
��t you think that too often we ignore the laws that aren’t convenient for us, but reinforce the ones that benefit magicians?” Liv asked.
“What I’m more curious about is that you do,” Haro said, sitting crossed-legged on the cushion on the ground.
“Why would that be of interest to you?” Liv asked. It was uncomfortable looking down at Haro, so whether he had intended to force the issue or not, she took a seat across from him so that they were eye-level.
“Warrior Beaufont, it has been a long time since we’ve had a fresh perspective in the House,” Haro began. “Yes, we’ve had new families join us. The Ludwigs are relatively new. However, they were raised immersed in the world of magic.”
“I was too,” she argued.
His lips quirked in a contrary smile. “You were, but no one would call your parents or the home they kept typical among magicians. Your parents, much like you, did things their own way and therefore I believe their children think independently of the House doctrine.”
Liv wanted to argue that Clark only thought for himself when he was told to, but refrained from making the jab at her brother.
“I had the pleasure of working with Ian and Reese, and I apologize for their deaths,” Haro said matter-of-factly. “However, I believe that your time away from the House has created certain advantages for you. I understand you left because you didn’t like how the council conducted business.”
“They closed the investigation on my parents’ death prematurely,” Liv argued, cutting him off. Haro hadn’t been on the council at that time, but his father was. If he took offense to this slight on his father’s decision-making, it didn’t show on his face.
“And this is what I mean,” Haro said proudly. “I suspect that no one has challenged the council in this way in quite some time. That’s a unique quality to you that I’ve come to appreciate.”
“So you don’t find it disruptive in our meetings?” Liv asked, surprised to hear Haro say that.
He shook his head. “That’s my agenda behind having this discussion with you. I think the worst thing you could do at this point is to conform to the standards of the council.”
“Are you encouraging me to rebel and make fun of Adler at meetings?” Liv dared to ask.
With an amused glint in his eyes, Haro said, “I’d never say such a thing. However, I’ve noticed that your rejecting the status quo and challenging orders is creating a shift. This ripple might be overdue. And I think that your time away from the House of Seven has given you a certain objectivity that is needed at this stage in our history.”
“I don’t understand,” Liv said, scratching her head. “I thought the council was all about order, but you’re secretly telling me to remain a rebel. Is that right?”
“Did you know that my grandmother was an Oracle?” Haro asked.
Liv shook her head.
“Yes, in her time, many thought that she was just a crazy, old woman who spoke nonsense,” Haro explained. “It wasn’t until many of her prophecies came to pass that she was respected for her visions.”
“It’s amazing how many people who are thought crazy are actually intelligent, seeing that which the rest of us don’t,” Liv offered.
“Well put, Warrior Beaufont,” Haro stated. “Grandmother Kazuko made many, many prophecies about the future, but they were lost.”
“Lost?” Liv asked, leaning forward suddenly. “How is that possible?”
“We didn’t have as much magical tech at the time,” Haro imparted. “It was my father’s generation that imposed that on the House of Seven.”
“You say that like you don’t agree with its use,” Liv observed.
“Much like your parents, I saw the limitations to binding our magic with technology,” Haro stated. “We know how unharnessed magic responds to electronics. I’m not sure where I stand on it presently. Sometimes simply knowing that you don’t know is enough.”
Haro spoke in riddles much like his brother, Liv observed.
“There’s a quote that says, ‘There are years that ask questions and years that answer,’” she related, remembering the line from Their Eyes Were Watching God.
Haro nodded. “And there is a Japanese proverb that says, ‘A frog in a well does not know the great sea.’”
The look of confusion on Liv’s face triggered Haro to keep talking. “I mean that the House has been limited for a long time. We make judgments based on our experiences, and I believe them to be too narrow. For instance, most of us don’t socialize with mortals, as you do. We do not keep the company of other magical races. We are frogs in a well.”
“And that’s why you’re encouraging me to continue to be myself?” Liv asked, and then laughed. “I’m not sure I could stop even if I tried. Being a thorn in Adler’s foot gives my life meaning.”
“I suspect you are correct, but I also know that some on the council crave the order you disrupt continuously.”
And they were finally to it, Liv thought. This was what this meeting was about. The council was talking more openly about how to “manage” Liv.
“As I was saying before,” Haro began, “Grandmother Kazuko made many predictions. I’m not sure what happened to those records, but thankfully, in the Takahashi family, we have a tradition of storytelling to preserve our history. It was my ancestors’ intention that if something destroyed our history, it could still be preserved in our memories. For that reason, my mother passed along many of the stories her mother told her.”
“And those were prophecies?” Liv asked, wondering what had happened to the records. Once again, something of major importance had disappeared. She’d make a killing if she opened a Lost-and-Found office for magicians.
“Yes, and one such prophecy spoke about a Warrior for the House of Seven,” Haro imparted. “Grandmother Kazuko foresaw that this person would create much friction among its members, but in doing so, would unearth something that would shatter the very foundation we stand on.”
“That person sounds like they will ruin everything,” Liv related with a morbid laugh.
“For those who enslave, the revolutionary does ruin everything,” Haro said, his tone quite serious. “The rebel who overthrows the dictator also rocks the foundation, and yet, without them, justice often goes unserved.”
“Who do you think your grandmother was referring to?” Liv asked.
Haro lowered his chin with a look that said, “Who do you think?” on his face.
“I get that I’m disruptive and do things my own way, like the Frank Sinatra song, but I’m not sure I’m the person in this vision of the future,” Liv stated.
Haro shrugged like he half-agreed with her. “It’s impossible to know.” He licked his lips, his eyes skating to the side. “I’m sure it’s not you, since the prophecy said this Warrior would hold a giant-forged sword.” His eyes darted to Bellator on her hip. “That wouldn’t be you, would it?”
Liv tensed. Gulped. Shook her head. “No, that’s not me. But it is an interesting prophecy.”
“Yes, it is,” Haro agreed. “And I think we’re overdue for a revolution. Many, I suspect, believe that, but to say it outright seems foolish.”
“I sense that the Councilors don’t like to oppose Adler and the power he seemingly wields.”
Haro nodded. “Adler does have a certain control over the council. It is somewhat of a mystery to me, yet I’ve unknowingly bowed to it often, although I’m not entirely sure why.”
“It sounds like Adler has the council brainwashed,” Liv stated.
He had an uncertain expression on his face. “I’m not sure.”
“Is that why you voted for me to go on death missions, like to the kingdom of the Fae and demon hunting, when I wasn’t fully trained yet?” Liv asked.
Haro smiled for the first time ever, looking much like his brother. “Oh, no. I voted for you to go on those missions of my own accord.”
“Because you want me dead?” Liv joked.
He shook his head. “No. I voted for you to ge
t stronger, and I believe you have.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“That prophecy is about you, isn’t it?” Sophia asked Liv as they strode down the sidewalk to Rory’s house.
Clark’s paranoia had started to get to Liv, making her look over her shoulder every so often, worried for Sophia. She’d okayed the trip with him prior to them leaving the House of Seven, as they’d agreed. When he told her to “be careful” for the fifth time, she nearly clocked him. However, now that she was out in the middle of the day with the most impressive young magician in the world, fear was setting in. If someone knew what Sophia could do, they’d… Liv couldn’t allow herself to think like that. Nothing was ever going to happen to Sophia. Liv would never allow it.
“I’m not so sure,” Liv said, wondering if she should have told Sophia so many details. However, she and Clark had agreed to be completely honest with each other, and she felt that included Sophia. If she hadn’t been so advanced for her age, Liv could rationalize keeping the truth from her, but Sophia deserved more. She’d earned it. And more than anything, Liv really did value the little magician’s opinion.
Sophia pointed to the sword on her hip, which was glamoured so mortals couldn’t see it as they passed them on the street. “Isn’t Bellator giant-made?”
“Yeah, but we have no clue how many Warriors have had a giant-forged sword.”
Sophia pursed her lips, giving Liv a skeptical expression. “Okay, but what other Warriors question the council at every turn?”
“Mom did,” Liv chirped.
Sophia nodded. “But she didn’t have a giant-made sword.”
“No, she had one specifically made for her by an elf, apparently,” Liv said, remembering seeing a sword on her mother’s hip when she strode in at night, her hair wind-swept and her eyes dazzling with adrenaline from doing whatever it was that she did as a Warrior. Inexorabilis was apparently an incredible sword that possessed many powers. The thought brought many memories rushing back to the surface: Liv watching her mother sharpen Inexorabilis in front of the fire, Guinevere regarding the sword with pride as it hung on the wall, the weapon sending a shock of electricity to Liv when she accidentally brushed against it while hugging her mother.