by Sarah Noffke
“I’m telling you, the world we used to know is changing. Just you wait, Ireland. If you got out of this shop, you’d see it. Maybe you should even try turning on the telly.”
Ireland shook his head; he didn’t need that rubbish polluting his brain. He shivered suddenly, running his hands over his lanky arms. “I think there’s a chill in the air again. I better fetch my sweater from the back.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, old chap,” Guy said, waving to Ireland as he left.
Once in the back, Ireland decided to give his sister Peggy a call. Her furnace had been out for a while, and although he’d offered to pay to fix it, she’d said her good-for-nothing-husband would be back soon, and he’d do it. It had seemed like a matter of pride for Peggy, so he’d decided not to press the matter.
His sister’s phone rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. “Peg, it’s me, Ireland. I guess you know that. Caller ID and all. Remember how we used to see fairies all the time down by the creek? Anyway, that’s not why I called. I just wanted to check on you. It’s getting cold again. Maybe I can fix your furnace, and when Fred comes to his senses, I’ll break it again so he can fix it properly. Anyway, call me, sis. I love you.”
Ireland was about to phone his brother Paul to see if he needed something—he was always working so hard, and usually forgot to eat lunch—when a loud crash echoed from the front of the bookstore.
Kayla’s illusion had been told to enter the shop, and that was what he did. He was searching for the figure that represented Ireland Reynolds. That was how it was supposed to work. Something that could be Ireland caught his eye. He ignored the orange tabby cat sitting on the front counter and sauntered toward the back. Something in the fiction section caught his eye. He turned. Took three steps. And then a bookcase crashed down on him, ending his world.
The illusion had failed on his mission. Again.
Ireland ran out upon hearing the crash. He desperately wondered if Dumpster Devin had ransacked the store again.
He halted after exiting the back room, taking in the sight before him. One row of shelves in the store had been knocked down. They were one on top of each other, like dominoes. Books were everywhere.
“Is everyone okay?” Ireland asked, looking around for bodies. Harry was okay. Actually, he was casually sitting on the front desk countertop, as usual, licking himself.
Upon closer inspection, Ireland noticed a pair of feet sticking out from under the first set of bookcases. His heart leapt. He approached with caution, having a strange Wizard of Oz moment. His life seemed to always go like this. The weirdest things happened. But at least it gave him good stories for parties—not that he ever went to any.
Something in Ireland told him to pause. To retreat, to get as far from whoever was pinned under the shelf as possible. However, he ignored this. His need to help persevered. It always got the best of him. His mother had told him long ago that there should be an organization that kept him in check. One that told him when to act or acted for him. He shrugged off this distant memory, trying not to think about his mother, who had died very long ago when he was young. Some freak accident, like many in his family.
Ireland looked at Harry again, strangely thinking that the cat was grinning. That wasn’t possible, though, he told himself. He shook it off, realizing he might be losing his mind, and focused on the man under the shelf.
“Sir?” Ireland asked, his voice shaking. “Are you okay?”
There was no answer.
Ireland felt he should be rushing to help this person, but his instincts were yelling “no.” Again, he ignored them and approached cautiously.
When he was close to the shelf covering the man, he tried to push. The large wooden shelf hardly budged. With all his strength, he tried again, this time using leverage. Ireland might not be strong, but he was smart.
Finally, the shelf came off and he shoved it to the side, freeing the pinned customer. “Are you okay?” Ireland asked in sincere concern. The man had a black mohawk and his face was strangely placid, like he was simply taking a nap. Ireland had never seen this person before. This wasn’t Dumpster Devin or one of his regular customers.
With a shaking hand, he went to check for the pulse. When his fingers touched the man’s skin, he turned to ash, caving in and blowing away like dust in the wind. The stranger literally dissolved, like something had blown the bits of him into the air.
Ireland gasped and straightened as he shook his head. “Oh great, another thing I’ve seen that I can’t explain.”
Chapter Three
“I’m too excited to work,” Liv said, pacing back and forth in the electronics shop.
John scratched his thick head of brown hair and studied the fan motor he was working on repairing. “Are you too excited to hand me a screwdriver?”
Shaking her head, Liv picked up the tool and handed it to John. “It’s just that you’re a Mortal Seven.”
“I’m still not entirely sure what that means,” he said, grimacing as he used the screwdriver on a particularly stubborn screw.
“It means you’re going to sit on the council and review cases and help assign work to the Warriors,” she said, pacing again. “That’s me! You’re going to assign me cases. You’ll be voting on things. It’s going to be awesome to have you on the council.”
“You mean that group of jerks who look down their noses at you and send you on death-defying missions?”
Liv nodded. “Yes, and now you get to be one of them.”
He shook his head. “And you’re wondering why I’m not more excited.”
“They aren’t all bad. Clark is a Councilor, and he’s pretty okay when he isn’t obsessing about what uncomfortable suit he’s going to wear or if he chewed his last bite of food thirty-two times. Okay, never mind. He’s the worst,” Liv joked. “But there are a few Councilors who are great, and I really trust them.”
“And the other ones?” John asked skeptically. He looked so much different since Pickles had transformed into his chimera form, healing John and making him much younger.
“Well, I’m not certain about Lorenzo,” Liv explained. “There’s something fishy about him. And Kayla is a Sinclair, and I firmly don’t trust her. And Haro? Well, he is probably good, but he doesn’t always vote the way I’d like him to.”
“I look forward to meeting the magicians you’ve told me so much about,” John said, but he didn’t sound excited. Liv understood, though. This was a lot for him to process. Everything had changed so quickly for him, and now he was obligated to be on the council. She was certain he’d see it as the honor it was once the shock wore off.
“Tonight will be so cool,” Liv said, feeling like she could run a marathon from the rush of energy. “You get to go with me to House of Fourteen and see the Chamber of the Tree. Oh, and…” Her voice trailed away, her train of thought interrupted by the look of concern on John’s face. “What is it?”
Realizing she’d spied his anxiety, he forced a fake smile on his face. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just this darn motor. I can’t get it going to save my life.” He indicated the fan he’d been trying to fix.
Liv nodded but continued to study him for signs of stress.
Pickles, who was sitting next to Plato, was back in his Jack Russell terrier form, acting like a regular dog as he licked his behind. Plato, who rarely acted like a real anything, was giving the animal a snide expression, obviously put off by his gross cleaning attempt.
“Maybe I can help with the repair?” Liv suggested. “Do you know what’s wrong with it?”
“I’m not certain, but I’ll let you know as soon as I narrow it down,” he said, not grunting like he usually did as he straightened and got up from the floor. The stress was still hiding at the corners of his eyes.
“What’s wrong, John?” Liv asked. “Are you nervous about the meeting tonight?”
He reached down and patted Pickles on the head. The dog nuzzled into his fingers. “No, it’s not that.” Directing his atte
ntion to Plato, he smiled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. Just because you didn’t turn out to be a super-duper chimera in hiding, it doesn’t make you any less awesome.”
Plato didn’t seem to care and continued to stare blankly ahead.
“The cat can talk actually,” Liv said seriously.
“You’ve mentioned that, but no one has ever heard him,” John said, winking at her as he patted the cat on the head.
“That’s because he’s a cruel and vicious animal who wants to make me appear insane,” Liv teased. “But he’s also saved my life many times.”
“Which I’m grateful for,” John said as Pickles begged for more attention. Petting the dog, John leaned down and addressed him. “But you’re a chimera who made me younger, and I feel better than I have in ages.”
“Plato turned into a griffin this one time and flew me down from The Matterhorn,” Liv stated. “Then there was this other time he was a lion and pulled me from a fountain, saving me from a blood-hungry mermaid.”
John glanced over his shoulder at her. “Has anyone ever seen him do this stuff?”
She shook her head. “No, because he’s a mysterious lynx who isn’t allowed to tell his secrets or show them or he’ll lose a life or something.”
“Oh, but you’ve seen him transform?” John asked. “I wonder how that’s affected him?”
Just then Plato tilted his head to the side, a strange expression on his face.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Liv said speculatively.
Without warning, Pickles shot into his chimera form, taking up much of the free space and bumping Plato to the side. The chimera growled majestically as his serpent tail hissed and the head of the goat on his back mewed.
John slapped his leg and laughed. “Seriously, I’ll never get used to that. Who would have thought my puppy was a magical creature?”
Plato, who was definitely not impressed by the show, jumped up on the workstation, flicking his tail angrily. This only seemed to encourage Pickles. His serpent followed Plato, taunting him by dancing in front of his face.
“Now just because you’re big and powerful doesn’t mean you can go bullying little old Plato,” John said in a baby-talk voice.
“I wouldn’t worry about little old Plato,” Liv argued, striding over to the fan. “For one thing, I don’t think he has any feelings. Also, I’m certain he could simply blink and erase Pickles.”
John laughed, petting the lion’s head. “Have you seen this guy? He’s got to be three or four hundred pounds in chimera form.”
“I’m just saying, don’t underestimate the cat.” She knelt to inspect the broken fan motor. “I think I see the problem.”
“You do?” John asked curiously, peering over her shoulder. “I thought your fresh eyes might spot the problem.”
“Yeah, I think it’s—”
Pickles yelped as if he were in pain. Liv and John spun to find his serpent tail tucked between his legs and his paw covering his massive face like he’d just been assaulted. Sitting casually on the workstation, Plato appeared to be close to dozing off.
“What happened, boy?” John asked, looking him over. The chimera shrank back into his terrier form and cowered by John’s legs.
Liv gave the unsuspecting cat a dirty look. “Plato is what happened.”
John picked Pickles up, cradling him like a baby. “Did that mean little kitty bat at your nose? I bet you forget you’re a big boy now and you can take him.”
Liv wagged her finger at the cat. “What have I told you about picking on giant chimeras?”
Plato blinked at her impassively. She was certain a ton of comebacks were volleying around in his mind, ready to spew out.
“That’s right,” Liv said when he didn’t respond. “We don’t taunt the magical creature that has been dormant for the last thirty-something years. House rule number one.”
John laughed, setting the dog down. “He’s been dormant longer than that. Didn’t you say that when a Mortal Seven dies, the chimera passes to the next one in the family who is eligible for the role?”
Liv nodded. “Yes, apparently the chimera picks the Mortal Seven from each family. That means one of your ancestors would have been guarded by Pickles before you.”
Sighing loudly, John suddenly appeared heavy. “I wonder who it was? My Uncle David had a potbelly pig that followed him everywhere, and my granddaddy had this German shepherd who never left his side. They were both good men.”
It was overwhelming to Liv how the Mortal Seven worked. Soon she’d have to hunt down the rest, and although she knew how to determine them by unlocking their chimeras, she wasn’t sure how to actually find them. She was hoping that Papa Creola could help her.
When Liv glanced up from the fan, she saw that stressed expression on John’s face again. “What is it? You said before it wasn’t that you were nervous about going to the House, right? Then what is bothering you?” Usually, she wouldn’t pry, but things were different now. John was under a lot of pressure, and she wanted him to be able to talk to her.
He combed his hands through his hair. “I just don’t know how I’m going to manage everything. I mean, I’ve got the shop, and now I’ve got to sit on a council, and what did you say? Is it every night?”
Liv nodded. “Yes, but only for a few hours.”
That didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “That’s usually when I sleep. But it’s fine, I guess. I’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll pick up extra hours at the shop,” Liv offered.
He shook his head. “Oh, no, you won’t. You’ve already got enough on your plate. You shouldn’t even be working here anymore. Heck, maybe I need to think about closing this place, at least for a little while.”
Liv’s hands automatically went to her hips. “No way, John Carraway. You’ve worked way too hard to give up this shop, and we both love it. We’re just going to have to get creative about how to manage things. Maybe you bring in another person?”
He seemed to consider the idea. “Okay, we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to tell everyone about this Mortal Seven business. I’m excited to share the news with Alicia.”
Just like every other time he had mentioned the magical tech scientist, John’s cheeks flushed with color. Liv smiled at him. “She’s going to be thrilled. And hey, that’s an excellent idea. Maybe Alicia can come help us with the shop.”
He waved at her dismissively. “Oh, she’s got her own tech shop in Venice to look after. She won’t want to come all this way to work in my little old shop.”
“Firstly, all she has to do is step through a portal,” Liv began. “Travel is exceptionally easy for us magicians. And secondly, Alicia will probably jump at the chance. She likes technology and fixing stuff, and most importantly, she likes you.”
The blush on John’s cheeks deepened. “You really think so?”
Liv rolled her eyes. “Do you really think she calls every day because she can’t figure out how to fix a vacuum cleaner or whatever else someone brought into her shop? This is a woman who created a device that paused, rewound, and fast-forwarded time.”
John laughed. “Good point. I did think it was strange, but I get so delighted when she calls that I dismiss the silly reason for it immediately.”
“And then you two chat for hours,” Liv added.
“Yes, good thing she upgraded my phone so it now works like yours, or the international calls would be a problem.”
Liv was grateful to see the giddiness in John’s eyes. And Alicia was perfect for him. Liv couldn’t wait until she saw him in person. The young scientist had been smitten with him when he was older and gray. She’d be even more so now that he was younger-looking and had his hair back.
“And you know, Alicia might already know about you being the first Mortal Seven,” Liv stated.
As she expected, he looked up in sudden shock. “How so?”
“Well…” she said, drawing out the word
. “The House might have sent a press release to the magical races.”
“Might have?” he asked skeptically.
“Well, by ‘might have,’ I mean they did.” She drew a deep breath and rushed on, encouraged by the overwhelmed expression on his face. “The council thought it would be a good idea to share the news to boost morale. After what the SandMan did, nearly killing a ton of mortals, the magical community needed this good news. Many doubt the House right now, especially the elves who don’t want to be governed by us. However, when the Mortal Seven are reinstated, it will bring balance, and hopefully, rebuild trust.”
John processed this, and after a moment, he nodded. “Well, that makes sense. All this is so much, though.”
“I get that, but you’re excited about being a Mortal Seven regardless, right?” Liv asked.
Before he could answer, the bells on the front door chimed as it opened. A woman of about forty strode through with strange confidence like she owned the place. Liv knew at once that she was a magician. She could feel it.
John grabbed his chest like he was having a heart attack, and the color drained from his face. He appeared ready to fall over. Instead, he rushed forward, stopping just short of the woman. “Chloe! What are you doing here?”
Chapter Four
Three things happened simultaneously.
Liv exclaimed, “What?!”
Pickles morphed into his chimera form and took a protective stance behind John.
And Chloe threw her arms around John, hugging him tightly.
When she pulled away—after too long of an embrace—Pickles growled, a murderous sound that made the appliances on the back shelves vibrate.
Chloe stepped to the side, giving Pickles an appreciative glance. “Oh, wow. Your little doggie is a chimera. That’s incredible.”
John’s mouth was still hanging open as he stared at the woman sauntering around the shop, appraising the surroundings. Chloe wore a broomstick skirt, and her wavy red hair reached all the way to her lower back. The bangles on her wrist clanged as she ran her fingers over the various appliances. “So this is the little shop you opened. I’ve been meaning to stop by.”