by Sarah Noffke
The Defiant Magician
Unstoppable Liv Beaufont™ Book 3
Sarah Noffke
Michael Anderle
The Defiant Magician (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2019 Sarah Noffke & Michael Anderle
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US Edition, March 2019
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
The Triumphant Daughter
Sarah’s Author Notes
Michael’s Author Notes
Acknowledgments
Books By Sarah Noffke
YA Dystopian Fantasy
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
The Defiant Magician Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Larry Omans
Angel LaVey
Daniel Weigert
Jeff Eaton
Micky Cocker
Crystal Wren
John Ashmore
Keith Verret
Kelly O’Donnell
James Caplan
Misty Roa
Peter Manis
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
The Skyhunter Editing Team
For Kathy.
Thank you for giving me my first fantasy book.
Since then, the world has been a better place.
Chapter One
Green smoke rose up from the cauldron, partially obscuring Adler Sinclair’s pale face. He fanned the fumes to his nose, inhaling deeply.
“It’s not right yet.”
“Do you think this is wise?” Decar asked, pacing back and forth in front of Adler’s work table, which was littered with ingredients—many on the illegal list.
“It will work.” Adler’s eyes narrowed as he chopped up more chusetor, a rare flower that caused hallucinations and other mental disorders.
“That’s not what worries me.” Decar halted, the sword on his belt clanking. “If they have the sword, then—”
“We will get it back,” Adler stated definitively.
“But why would Olivia Beaufont take it? She must know something, just like her siblings and her parents.”
Adler shook his head. “There is no way she can.”
“But the sword…” Decar insisted, the stress making his long white face appear suddenly older.
“Don’t worry. Turbinger can only reveal the history to a giant of pure blood, and who will believe them? We’ve done our job discrediting the giants. We’ve made them look like brutish, uncivilized creatures.”
Decar sighed, agreeing. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s not like it’s a fae or an elf. It’s just that the sword was protected, and has been for so long, and now it’s out there somewhere in who-knows-whose hands.”
A wicked glare crossed Adler’s face as he slid the chusetor into the simmering cauldron. “We know who stole the sword. We just have to figure out what she did with it.”
“And why? Why would Olivia Beaufont go after the sword in the first place?”
“I suspect she got curious, but who knows why? I thought she’d be an inconvenience, but I never dreamed she’d be a downright headache. She was supposed to work her cases and stay out of this.”
“And her magic? Has it normalized?”
Adler shook his head. “No, and that’s starting to worry me. It should have by now if it was a surge.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Adler nearly yelled, his face flushing red.
Decar’s eyes fell on the small dragon breathing a steady stream of fire under the cauldron. This potion had to brew hotter than most, which would have been a problem to hide from the Council. They would see Adler using a fire spell for such a long period of time, and that could draw suspicion onto him. However, Indikos kept that from happening, and the potion would also keep the magic they were using off the radar. Potions and artifacts and other magical items like depours helped to cover their tracks.
The potion turned a blackish color, its consistency thick like tar. Adler nodded, relief whisking to his face. He grabbed a small bottle from the crammed worktable and filled it with the hot liquid. Setting it down, he showed his brother a victorious expression.
“I don’t know why Olivia Beaufont has more magic than she should, or why she’s sticking her nose into things she shouldn’t, but that’s going to change very soon.”
Decar nodded, gulping as he stared at the small bottle. “I think this is the right approach. If something happens to another Beaufont, then—”
“It will be very unfortunate,” Adler said, cutting off the other magician. “I will do everything that I can to protect Olivia, but if she gets herself into this mess, then there is little that I can do.”
“But the potion…” Decar picked up the bottle, his dragonhide gloves protecting his fingers from the heat.
“The potion will restore balance. What we need is to keep a better eye on Ms. Beaufont. Then she won’t be off creating extra problems for us.”
“And her cases?” Decar inquired.
Adler petted Indikos, telling the dragon to stop breathing fire as he gazed up at his master. “They will also serve to sort the rebellious Warrior out. She’s confused, having been out of the House for five years. That’s my fault. I underestimated her, but that won’t happen again.”
“And the sword?” Decar asked.
Adler gritted his long, pointy teeth, new anger flaring on his face. “The sword will be returned. Malcom made a mistake by letting Ms. Beaufont take it.”
“I’m still surprised that you didn’t punish him,” Decar stated.
“I didn’t have to,” Adler replied. “And I think he can still be of help to us. He’s eager to not be punished further.
”
“But if what you say is true, the cut from Turbinger will drive him insane.”
Adler swiped his hand in a small circle, and the contents in the cauldron disappeared. “He thinks there is a cure and will do anything to get it.”
“But there isn’t, right?”
“Of course there isn’t.” Adler laughed coldly. “That’s why it’s one of the most deadly weapons in the world. A warrior doesn’t have to kill with it, only mark their enemy. It gives the bearer the option of invoking a fast or slow death.”
Decar shuddered, slipping the bottle into his pocket. “I would prefer a fast one if what I’ve heard about being marked by Turbinger is correct.”
“I agree,” Adler said with a nod. “I’d rather not lose my mind either. Mental torture is the worst.” He pointed to where Decar had put the potion. “You know what to do with that?”
Decar lowered his chin, regarding his brother with impatience. “You mean who to give it to, and yes. I’ll ensure that our new lemming follows our plans to a T.”
“Good. And then have Malcom report directly to him. I don’t need a deranged elf contacting me anymore. It isn’t safe.”
Decar offered his brother one last curt nod before pivoting and striding for the door. What he had in his pocket was one of the most powerful potions a wizard could make. It didn’t kill or heal. Those were simple tasks that magicians could easily do on their own. Controlling another person…now that was an incredibly difficult feat. Yes, mortals could be persuaded. Slightly brainwashed from time to time. But to make them do your bidding? That was a real challenge.
Adler was right. Olivia Beaufont wasn’t a problem. She was a nuisance. A rebel who had acted out. Let her curiosity get the best of her. It had only happened because they’d allowed her too much freedom. That was all about to change.
Chapter Two
“Do it again,” John encouraged, leaning forward on his stool, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Not as enthusiastic as the older man, Liv twirled her finger in the air, and all the lights in the shop extinguished.
John clapped, causing Pickles to bark and circle on the ground from the excitement, his nails clacking. “Oh, that’s just so cool. Now turn them on again.”
Liv did as he asked, bathing the shop in light from overhead. “You know, I can do way cooler stuff than turning on and off the lights. Want me to make a windstorm or fix all the appliances that came in?”
John shook his head. “No, I like the small stuff. It’s handy.”
“But there are apps that control lights.”
“Oh, who needs one of those silly things that spy on you?” John gave her a conspiratorial look. “Between you and me, I think that Alicia thing is listening in a bit too much.”
Liv laughed. “Alexa,” she corrected. “And I find it ironic that someone who fixes appliances for a living is paranoid about new technology.”
“That’s the thing,” John countered. “I like old technology. Like this old mixer.” He indicated a vintage KitchenAid countertop mixer that a customer had brought in that morning. He eyed it fondly. “That’s the reason I like to fix them—so we don’t fill up the landfill with broken junk. And this beauty, well… I can get it working as good as the day it came out of the box.”
Liv had always appreciated this about John. Instead of throwing things out, he believed in fixing them. Maybe that was the reason he’d offered her the job she’d inquired about five years prior after having seen the sign posted in the window instead of turning her down because she didn’t have any experience. Maybe he saw that she was broken and wanted to help fix her. The day she’d left the House of Seven, she’d made friends with Plato and stumbled across John’s shop, landing a job and a place to live. Everything had worked out then, providing a new life she desperately needed. And now her old life and her new one were mixing together like eggs and flour in a bowl. But what would this all produce?
“I thought you wanted me to fix the mixer,” Liv said. “You can do it, though, if you want to.”
He waved her off, coming out of his fond appreciation of the old appliance. “No, you do it. But I do request that you don’t use any magic until you’ve figured out what the actual problem is. We don’t need Mrs. Albertson bringing it back, saying it made a cake all by itself.”
Liv smiled, thinking of the other appliances clients had returned because of similar peculiarities. “Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m getting better at incorporating my magic without unintended consequences. However, if it’s a problem, I won’t use it while I’m in the shop.”
John thought for a moment. “A little magic here and there doesn’t bother me, as long as you don’t get lost in it.” His expression grew distant and then dark, as if an old memory was playing in his mind—one involving his ex-wife Chloe, the magician.
“That’s been Plato’s advice too. I’m learning how to do everything without magic. Then I’m not reliant on it.”
John eyed the cat, who was snoozing on the workbench, skeptically. “Right. The cat told you this.”
“How come you believe that gnomes have fireball technology and that I work for a secret organization of magicians, but the cat talking is too far out?”
“I’ve seen a lot of things in my time. Things that no other mortal would believe. But a talking cat? Come on, Liv. That’s a bit far. Funny joke, though.”
Snapping her fingers in front of Plato’s face, Liv tried her best to rouse him. “Will you say something to prove to him that I’m not pulling his leg?”
Plato cracked open one of his green eyes and shut it again, nestling his face more comfortably into his paws.
“Okay, fine. Be that way,” Liv snapped.
John laughed. “Of course, I did like that you used your magic to tidy up the shop every evening. I guess it’s okay to keep doing that.”
Liv shook her head. “I’m not the one cleaning the shop. That’s a brownie.”
Surprise jumped to John’s face. “You mean one of those little elves? Those are real?”
“Yes, and that one took a liking to you, so keep doing what you’re doing, and he’ll keep the floors clean.”
“Shouldn’t I leave him something, like a piece of chocolate or taffy?”
“I don’t know how it works with brownies, but I have a book that R…that a friend gave me where I can look it up.” Liv looked down at the workstation, trying to hide her worried expression. She’d nearly outed Rory as a giant, which wasn’t her place.
John gave her a sideways glance, skepticism strong in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve also suspected that Rory was a giant for a long time. I don’t know much about them, but I think he’s all right. Chloe mentioned a time or two that they couldn’t be trusted, though.”
Liv was surprised. John had seemed so innocent that she’d had no idea he saw the magical world as clearly as he did. She realized she shouldn’t have underestimated him. He might pretend not to care about other people’s business, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention. “Yeah, there’s a long-standing grudge between magicians and giants, but I’m not sure why.”
“But you and he get on well, right?” John asked, striding over to an old unplugged refrigerator and opening the door. It had been for sale for months, but no one seemed much interested in it since it wasn’t the standard size. John had faith that the right buyer would find it. Someone with a retro kitchen, possibly.
Presently the refrigerator stored boxes of Girl Scout cookies. He pulled a sleeve of Thin Mints from a box and shut the door.
“Well, Rory and I never even talked much until I nearly destroyed your shop the day my magic was unlocked. Since then, he’s been training me.”
John’s mouth popped open as he slid the cookies onto a plate on the table. “That was you? I thought…” His eyes danced as everything came together. “Yeah, that makes sense now.”
“Sorry for lying to you. I didn’t know how to explain what was happening, and—”
John waved her off, taking a bite of a cookie. “No, don’t apologize. It sounds like it’s been quite the adventure for you. And it was only shortly after that when I started to figure out you might have magic.”
“How did you know?” Liv asked, taking the sleeve of cookies when John offered it to her.
“Magic has a distinct feel to it that I can’t explain,” John stated, licking the crumbs from his lips. “It’s like it leaves behind a smell or something, although I realize it doesn’t. It’s like a residue. I felt it when I was around Chloe, and its absence when she left. Anyway, I started getting that strange feeling again recently and suspected it might be coming from you. Then your brother came here and you got that bite, and I knew something bigger than the flu was happening to you.” He laughed, neatly arranging the cookies on the plate. “Although, I don’t think I would have figured out you were a Warrior for the House of Seven in a million years. That’s a big role.”
“It’s no big deal.” Liv took another handful of cookies, realizing she hadn’t eaten enough that day. What she needed was a plate of tacos, but she could settle for a sleeve of Thin Mints. “The Council assigns me lame cases to keep me out of their hair.”