by Sarah Noffke
Liv jumped off the fire ladder when she was several yards off the ground, landing hard on the pavement in a crouched position.
Standing tall, she tried to get her bearings as sirens grew louder. A rush of people ran her direction, many of them looking past her at the commotion on the next block.
Good, they didn’t notice me coming down the building, Liv thought. She glanced over her shoulder, not seeing as far down the block as she would have liked thanks to the dense fog that was now covering everything. It was starting to make her feel claustrophobic, boxing her in.
Liv was about to turn and rush for the accident, along with the crowd, when the sounds of brakes caught her attention. It wasn’t just any type of vehicle’s brakes, but rather the kind she associated with a large bus…like the one Ireland Reynolds had taken several hours before.
As she peered over her shoulder, the fog parted enough for Liv to make out a bus similar to the one Ireland had boarded in Brighton. Could he really be back? And if he was, wasn’t he her first priority?
She swung her head back and forth between the mayhem growing louder behind her and the bus unloading passengers down the block. Yes, she needed to know Kayla Sinclair was dead, but wasn’t the evidence of that all around her as people yelled and sirens wailed? And wasn’t the most important objective to ensure Ireland Reynolds was safe, along with his chimera?
Shaking off the last bit of doubt, Liv sprinted in the direction of the bus, leaving Kayla Sinclair’s murder scene at her back and her memory free of its images.
Chapter Forty
The bus’s doors were closing when Liv halted in front of them. The driver opened the doors again with an impatient face.
Liv jumped onto the bus, searching the rows of irritated passengers. Ireland wasn’t here. He’d already gotten off, or this wasn’t the right bus at all.
“Did you come from Brighton?” Liv asked.
The driver nodded, closing the door behind her. “Take a seat.”
Liv spun around, pounding on the door. “Let me off!”
The hostility of the other passengers and the irritation of the driver were palpable. With a loud sigh, he opened the doors again and Liv sprang out as the bus started moving again. She halted, looking both ways on the busy sidewalk, trying to figure out which way Ireland’s shop was. Everything looked the same on the unfamiliar road.
Liv was just about to ask for directions when she noticed the corner bakery at the far end of the street. It was the one not far from the bookstore. Pushing against the crowd headed the opposite direction, Liv sped for the bakery. When she halted at the intersection, the signal was red.
Waiting for the light to change seemed like the worst use of time ever, with her Mortal Seven potentially getting away or being captured by someone else. Liv didn’t know if there was someone out there hunting the Mortal Seven now that Kayla was dead, but she couldn’t cross off the potential.
She sprang into the intersection while cars passed by, earning angry honks from the motorists. Twice, she was nearly hit as cars slammed on their brakes to avoid crashing into her. If she’d had any magical reserves left, she would have used them right then, but her magic was dangerously low. Plato had warned her never to let herself get to empty. The effects could be devastating.
That was why Liv rushed into the bakery upon making it across the intersection. Yes, she needed to get to Ireland, but it would do her no good if he was in danger and she didn’t have any magic to help him with. And she’d need to portal them to the House of Fourteen, which she definitely couldn’t do in her current state.
The customers in line at the bakery all gave her annoyed expressions as she jumped to the front, muttering apologies.
“I’m sorry, but this is an emergency,” Liv stated, tapping on the counter to get the attention of the man behind the pastry case wearing an apron.
“What kind of emergency?” he asked, giving her a skeptical expression.
“I need a pastry now!”
Many of the customers at her back scoffed at this. Someone yelled profanities at her. The baker shook his head. “Get to the back of the line, lady.”
Liv stood her ground. “Give me a pastry or I’m going to pass out.”
That wasn’t necessarily accurate, but it was close enough.
His eyes widened. “What are you, one of those diabetics? Do you have a blood sugar thing?”
Liv nodded. Whatever he needed to hear to get moving.
“Get her something!” someone yelled. “I’m going to be late.”
“Fine,” the baker muttered. “What do you want?”
Liv tapped the counter again, wishing she’d thought to bring candy with her so she wouldn’t have to rely on this slow baker to serve her. “I don’t care. Whatever is quickest.”
“Well, if you don’t need it heated up then—”
Having enough of this guy’s slow service, Liv dived over the counter, reached into the case, and removed two Bath buns. She slapped a wad of cash down as the man reached for her.
“You can’t do that!” he yelled.
Liv stuffed one of the pastries into her mouth as she charged out the way she’d come, easily slipping away from the baker reaching for her.
“Tank chu,” she muttered through her full mouth as she jostled out to the busy street again.
Chapter Forty-One
Liv felt her energy return immediately as she crammed another bite of the pastry into her mouth. She hardly chewed as she hurried through the crowd toward Ireland’s shop, where a light was now shining in the window.
He is back, she rejoiced. Then she cursed the mortal, who should have known better than to attract attention to himself in such a way. It was like he was broadcasting to anyone who wanted him dead that he was home. Keeping this one alive is going to be a challenge, Liv thought, finishing the last of her pastries in record time and wishing she had something to wash them down with.
Once at the shop door, she went to push it open but found it locked.
Well, at least he locked the door, Liv thought, not that a single deadbolt was a deterrent to common criminals nor magicians.
She pointed her finger at the door, unlocking it with ease. As soon as she pushed it open, the light extinguished and a click overhead made her pause.
She froze briefly before catching the objects overhead in her peripheral vision. Liv dove just as a box of books dumped over, crashing down where she’d been moments prior.
Rolling forward, she hopped to her feet, then swung around and looked for Ireland. He stepped out wearing the strangest outfit. Strapped to his chest and back were thick hardback books that appeared to be a weird suit of armor. On his head, he was wearing a helmet, and in his hands, he was holding a small book that she strangely recognized.
“Hold it right there,” he said, sidestepping out and then hopping behind a shelf that partially obscured him.
Liv looked around. “Where is Harry?”
He narrowed his green eyes at her. “I’ll be asking the questions, and you’ll tell me no lies.”
From his book, he began to recite a spell Liv recognized, although he was severely butchering the words. She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring there was no one around the shop who posed a danger while she dealt with the mortal’s understandable fears.
“What are you doing?” Liv asked, trying to keep herself from laughing.
“I’m putting you under a truth spell,” he said before continuing the incantation.
“First of all, that spell isn’t going to work,” Liv stated, searching the cramped bookshop for Harry. “And secondly, where did you get that book?”
He gave her a look of offense. “And why won’t it work? I’m saying the words exactly as they are written.”
Liv caught the orange feline staring down at her from the top of a nearby bookshelf. She might be seeing things after her near-death experience on the rooftop, but she could have sworn the animal winked at her. She smiled at him before returning her atten
tion to Ireland. “Mostly, it won’t work because you’re not a magician.”
Ireland sighed and closed the book. “Really? I thought that maybe…”
Liv looked at him sympathetically. “Again, how did you get that spell book?” She recognized it as one she’d studied as a child. It was out of date and the spells were somewhat inaccurate, but in the right hands, it had effective incantations.
“Oh, well, I deal in rare and old books. Some old man sold it to me ages ago. I thought at one time that it was full of real spells, but that was before everyone knew that magic was actually present in the world.”
“But you’ve always seen magic, right?” Liv asked.
“Yes, just like everyone in my family.”
Liv nodded. “And what’s with all this?” She motioned to the trap he’d cleverly set and the strange armor he was wearing.
He pulled off the set of books serving as his chest and back plates, letting out a sigh. “I know you said you would protect me, but on the bus ride, I started to wonder if you were the bad guy, just telling me all this so I’d trust you.”
Liv pursed her lips, appreciating that he wasn’t blindly trusting her. He seemed to be highly intelligent as well as honest. She also wasn’t discounting his excellent choice of profession as she stared around appreciatively at the bookstore.
“Your concerns are valid,” Liv stated. “I think I’ve taken care of those coming after you, but I’m not sure.”
He rose up on his tiptoes and peered out the store windows. “Is that the reason for the commotion out there?”
Liv nodded.
“What happened?” Ireland asked.
“I fought with an evil-doer. They lost. Now they are on the pavement,” Liv stated.
He shivered, reading between the lines. “Again, how do I know you didn’t just kill the good guy and that you’re not the evil one?”
Liv thought for a moment. Really, all she had was her word. That probably wasn’t good enough for this guy, though. “I haven’t killed you yet, and I probably could have.”
He thought about this answer. “I’m not sure that’s a persuasive argument.”
“Right, allowing you to live and breathe isn’t at all convincing,” Liv stated. “Look, I believe you’re one of the Mortal Seven. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll explain exactly what that means.”
When Liv was done telling Ireland everything, he simply stared at her with his mouth open. After a moment, he tapped his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times, like he was parched from having it hanging open for so long.
“And you think I’m one of these people? One of the Mortal Seven?” Ireland asked in amazement.
“There’s only one way to tell,” Liv said, pointing at the feline perched on the top of a shelf. “If I was one of those trying to hurt mortals, I wouldn’t transform Harry. That’s the final step in assimilating the Reynolds family back into the House of Fourteen. Those who want you out would never want that to happen.”
Ireland pointed at Harry and then Liv and then back at Harry. “You really think my cat is a chimera? Like one of those mystical creatures? And he’s trapped in my pet’s body?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” she stated. “But if he is, you will have to leave this shop, at least for a little while. You’ll need to accompany me to the House of Fourteen, where you’ll have an important job to do. We need the Mortal Seven.”
Ireland nodded but then shook his head. “I want to help. I really do. But I have customers, and I’ve got bills, and I’m not sure I can do all this.”
Liv stepped forward, making him reflexively take a step away from her. “Just answer one question, Ireland: do you want to do it?”
“W-w-well, yeah,” he stuttered. “I mean, I’ve always known magic was real, although I might have also thought I was crazy. I’ve also had ideas about what should be allowed or not. It just seemed natural to me. And this House of Fourteen and the council? Well, it sounds like the world I’ve been looking for all my life without knowing it. But this is a lot to process.”
Liv understood completely. She remembered being in his position; well, in a way. She’d grown up in the House, but returning to it had been overwhelming. She wasn’t sure of much, but at her core, she’d known that she had to join the Royals. Something told her that if she didn’t, she’d regret it all her life. She saw that same expression on Ireland’s face now.
“If you want to join the House of Fourteen, then just do it,” Liv offered. “Don’t worry about the shop or your bills or anything else. We have ways of taking care of such things.”
He pointed at Harry, who hadn’t moved from his spot up high. “But it all centers around him. What if he doesn’t change?”
Liv shrugged. “Then you’re not the Mortal Seven for the Reynolds family. I move on, and you’ll go back to the world you know, although we’ll offer you protection if needed.”
He frowned. “I don’t want my world to go back to the way it was. My sister and brother are dead. That can’t have been for nothing. If I’m a Mortal Seven, it sounds like I can change the world for the better. I can try to fix the evil that killed them. But if I’m not, well, then I’m just a shopkeeper who can’t do a damn thing about these injustices, which often go unpunished.”
Liv didn’t need to sing the song of the chimera to Harry to know that Ireland Reynolds was a Mortal Seven. She could tell by the passion in his words. He spoke in a way that was pure. There was something right about him. He reminded her of John.
However, there was nothing she could say to convince Ireland. Instead, she said, “No matter what role we serve in, we always have the power to fight injustices. It’s the bullies in this world who want you to believe otherwise. Like politicians hungry to control the masses. Clergy members indoctrinating their followers with wrong beliefs. Executives pushing their agendas instead of the greater good. However, it only takes the belief of one person to change everything. No matter if you are or aren’t a Mortal Seven, you have the ability to save the world, if only in small ways.” A shadow of a smile flicked to her mouth. “And you know what?” she asked him, realizing she had his full and undivided attention suddenly.
He glanced at her with a question in his eyes. “What?”
“I believe it doesn’t matter whether it’s small or large ways that save the world,” Liv said with conviction. “At the end of the day, if we can watch the sunset with the promise of a sunrise to follow, the world was saved all the same.”
Ireland’s eyes grew brighter, hope marking them. “Okay, I’m ready, Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Fourteen. Let’s see if I’m one of the Mortal Seven. Either way, I think I’ll be okay.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“Holy shit!” Ireland Reynolds said, his face partially covered by his hands. He kept looking between Liv and the chimera perched on the top of the bookshelf, who appeared very much like a gargoyle as he peered down at them. It was good that the ceiling over the shelves was tall, allowing for the five to six feet the chimera needed when it grew to full stature. The face of the lion stared down at them as the serpent tail flickered and the goat’s head searched the shop from up high, most likely looking for potential dangers.
The bookshop owner hadn’t changed as much as John when his chimera was unlocked, but he did appear healthier than he had moments prior. And he’d taken off his thick glasses, blinking like he all of a sudden didn’t need them anymore. Releasing the chimera had apparently healed him of his nearsightedness.
Ireland pointed. “T-t-that’s my cat? The same one who cuddles with me at night and demands tuna fish after I get back from the sundries shop down the block?”
Liv nodded, unable to hide the satisfied grin on her face any longer. “Pretty cool, huh? He’s been protecting you all this time.”
“Of course! Oh, my God! The guy of ash,” Ireland said, covering his mouth with a sudden gasp.
“Guy of ash?” Liv asked.
“There was a guy
recently who came into the shop,” Ireland explained. “I thought it was a customer. I went in the back, and something knocked the shelves over. When I rushed out, I pulled the shelves off this guy, thinking an accident had killed him in my shop. However, when I went to check that he was okay, the strangest thing happened.”
“Was that when he turned to ash?” Liv asked.
Ireland nodded. “How did you…oh, wait, you’re a magician. House of Fourteen stuff, right?”
She nodded. “Did this guy by chance have a black mohawk?” Liv asked.
“Yeah, the same as the guy chasing me in Brighton.” Ireland’s mouth popped open. “How did you know?”
“I’ve killed that illusion a few times,” Liv stated. “He likes to return.”
“Illusion?” Ireland asked, scratching his head. “So that was the person who killed my sister and brother? They were illusions? And they came after Peggy and Paul because they thought they were potentially the Mortal Seven for the Reynolds family?”
“I’m afraid so,” Liv said, knowing intimately what he was going through right then with his losses. “I’m so sorry.”
Ireland gulped, trying to assimilate this as he looked around the shop. “And my cat…or chimera, or whatever he is…pushed the shelves over to stop this guy from harming me? Is that right?”
Liv shrugged. “I guess so. I’m still trying to figure out how chimeras work. Before they are unlocked, I don’t think they are as powerful. But it appears that your little kitty found a way to help even in his other form. Who knows how they do it, but I do know the chimeras are guarding their Mortal Seven in their dormant form, and this must be the reason. It’s not just so we can identify them, but also to protect.”
Harry let out a thunderous roar that shook the floor under their feet. He then shrank and turned his head to the side as if asking for an ear scratch.
“This is all hard to believe, and yet, strangely, it makes perfect sense,” Ireland said.
“Well, if you think this is a lot, I’ve still got to get you to the House of Fourteen, and things are even stranger there,” Liv said, looking over her shoulder at the front window, which was now dark, the sun having set. “I’m not sure you’re safe yet, but I’m hoping you will be there.”