by Sarah Noffke
Akio’s head tilted to the side. “You don’t know?”
Liv shook her head.
Akio reached out, hesitating when his fingers were close to the sword. “May I?”
Liv relinquished the sword to him, missing it as soon as it was out of her grasp. His eyes filled with delight when he wrapped his hands around the hilt. He sliced it through the air, its blade making a sharp whizzing sound. He spun around, swinging Bellator with a grace Liv had rarely seen. It looked more like a dance than anything else—a deadly one. When he’d spun back in her direction, he straightened, holding the sword horizontally and presenting it to her.
“I’ve never held a giant-made sword,” Akio stated.
Liv pretended to look surprised. “Giant-made? Well, I’ll be.”
The glint in his eyes betrayed the expression he was trying to suppress. “And Bellator simply means ‘Warrior.’”
Liv’s mouth fell open. That cunning giant, she thought.
Akio pointed to the sword in her hands, an impressed expression on his face. “I don’t know where you ‘found’ this, but if you hone your skills, you and Bellator will be a formidable force.”
“Goodwill,” Liv supplied.
“Excuse me?” Akio asked as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I picked it up at the Goodwill in WeHo,” she explained. “You can find all sorts of treasures there.”
“Indeed,” he said with a wink.
“Where did you learn to fight?” Akio asked after their third sparring bout.
“I didn’t, really,” Liv answered. “I always declined the lessons when they were offered.”
He shook his head, leaning on his sword, which was thinner than hers and made in the style of the magicians. “It doesn’t matter if you were taught or not. Growing up, someone always teaches us how to fight, and usually informally. It’s in the passion or integrity or lack thereof that they pass along. I sense a unique boldness in you, Liv, and it comes out when you spar.”
Where would that come from, Liv wondered. She didn’t know. Her mother was brave and her father opinionated, which was an obviously deadly combination she’d inherited from them.
“I guess my parents taught me how to fight,” she stated, holding Bellator but unable to look Akio directly in the eyes.
That was probably why he leaned in to get her attention. “Then focus on them. It is our greatest teachers we must hold in our hearts when we fight. Combat is demoralizing. It’s scary facing adversaries. We rarely persevere for self-preservation alone. However, when we remember the ones who made us who we are? Well, we become unstoppable.”
Liv had trouble swallowing for a moment, as if her throat had been cut. She managed a nod. “Do we go again?”
Akio sheathed his weapon, nodding at her. “Yes, but I’m going to try to disarm you this time.”
“Without a sword?” she asked.
He offered her a sideways smile. “Yes. I think I’ll be okay, and your enemy will rarely tell you what they are about to do, so consider yourself at an advantage.”
Liv bowed when he did, then straightened. She was ready when Akio darted forward, coming at her like a bull released from a pen. His hands were around her waist. She swung Bellator above her head but suddenly felt disoriented. The other Warrior moved faster than she could follow, like a phantom. She blinked, wondering where he’d disappeared to. Shaking, she spun around, but he was already at her back again, his arms constricting her. Grunting, she tried to overpower him but knew it was useless almost from the start. Bellator clanged to the ground from the pressure of his grip.
Liv stumbled back, shaking her head. “How did you do that? How do you move so fast?”
“It’s a perk of not holding a weapon,” Akio admitted. “We gain and we lose when we hold a weapon. They make us deadly, but often slow us down. Never forget that wielding a weapon isn’t always the right approach. It depends on the battle.”
“Will you teach me how to move like that?” Liv asked.
Akio nodded. “Yes, but first let me teach you how to hold your sword.” He picked up Bellator and extended it to her. “This time, don’t think of yourself as carrying this sword. Rather, believe it is an extension of you. When you swing Bellator, see it as part of you.”
She didn’t want to tell him that sounded like hippie crap, but that was exactly what it seemed like to her. However, she’d never seen anyone move like Akio Takahashi. He was fluid like water and unrivaled in his agility. The way he moved was almost unbelievable. This wasn’t a competitor she wanted to go head to head with.
“Okay,” Liv agreed, taking Bellator. “An extension of my arm.”
“Once you conquer that idea, you’ll unlock any benefits that sword can offer you.”
“How do you know it will?” Liv asked.
He gave her a skeptical glare. “A sword like this, that was seemingly made for you, has many ways to aid its bearer. However, you have to prove yourself worthy of the power it would lend you. It’s important to remember that a Warrior and her sword should be partners in battle. Currently, you’re acting like you’re in charge, and it is your tool.”
Liv worked to cover the tension his words had unearthed. “I found the sword,” she lied.
He nodded. “At the Goodwill. I remember.” He bowed again, signaling the start of another sparring match.
This time she didn’t react to his first attempts to pin her. Instead, she allowed Bellator to lead her like they were a couple on the dance floor. Again Akio disappeared behind, but instead of swinging around, she felt the sword urge her backward. She threw herself in that direction, knowing that Akio was there. Slamming into him, she took him by surprise, knocking him to the ground. Swinging Bellator over her head, she brought it down, stopping inches from his face.
“Very good,” he said in a raspy voice, sweat beading on his forehead. “I think that’s good for today.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You did promise me you’d tell me before you set off for the Kingdom of the Fae,” Clark said, leaning against a bookcase in the library, his arms crossed.
“I said I’d tell you before I went off to get myself killed, and I didn’t do that, did I?” Liv retorted, sitting on one of the oversized couches and flipping through the book Rory had given her, Mysterious Creatures.
“Liv,” he said in that warning voice he always used.
“There was nothing you could have done, and you know full well that I had to complete the case,” Liv reasoned. “So I figured out a strategy and executed it.”
Clark released a tight laugh. “The Council is still stumped by how you did it. Your notes said you dressed like a fae and appealed to Queen Visa from a different angle.”
Liv nearly snorted. “Yeah, I sort of left out some details.”
“Well, how did you get the queen to agree?”
Liv looked around, catching Sophia’s eyes on the other side of the sitting area. She was curled up with several books, her attention mostly on her sister and brother, although she pretended to be reading most of the time.
“I’ve got the spy-finder spells operating,” Sophia stated. “You should be safe.”
Liv nodded. “I enlisted the help of a fae.”
Clark sighed. “The same one you gave the Warrior’s ring to?”
“I didn’t give it to him,” Liv countered. “He’s borrowing it so we can discover the lost memory.”
Clark motioned to the wall covered with the founders’ language. “However, if we had it right now, we could try to open the ancient chamber or whatever is behind this wall.”
Liv reluctantly agreed. “Yeah, it’s the first time I’ve been here in a while that Stefan Ludwig isn’t hanging around.”
Clark dragged in a breath. “Between the three of us, I don’t know about him.”
“Why?” Liv asked, leaning forward and thinking about the time Stefan had tried to follow her.
“I don’t know,” Clark replied. “I’m certain he’s hiding so
mething from the Council.”
Liv was sure he was, but what she hadn’t determined was if it was something good or bad. Not all things Warriors kept secret from the Council were bad. She could attest to that.
Sophia squeezed her eyes shut and waved her finger through the air. In front of them, a round pillow materialized on the table, frilly pink ribbons and lace adorning it.
Liv and Clark watched with curiosity as the girl referenced one of the many books beside her. Then she closed her eyes again and stroked her finger through the air as if she were writing in cursive. On the front of the pillow, the letters P-L-A-T-O stitched into place.
Liv laughed. “You made him a bed?”
Sophia shook her head. “It’s not supposed to have so much lace.”
“He’s going to love it,” Liv stated.
“Do you think he’ll stay with you here at the House of Seven?” Sophia asked.
Both Liv and Clark answered at once, her saying “yes,” and him replying the opposite with a sharp, “No.”
Liv cast him an annoyed stare. “Of course, he will.”
“Come on, Liv,” Clark argued. “We can’t have a lynx staying with us. What if the Council finds out?”
“They won’t,” Liv retorted. “He’s a master at hiding himself. No one has ever caught him.”
Clark lowered his chin. “Which is exactly why you have to be wary of that creature. He’s not normal.”
“Says the magician born with royal blood that can open ancient chambers,” Liv stated dryly.
“This is different, Liv,” Clark stated. “You’re involving yourself with lynxes and giants and fae and mortals. It isn’t safe.”
“Why?” she countered.
“We’ve already been through this,” Clark said with a tired sigh, pushing away from the shelf.
“Yes, and all you can offer me is prejudice that explains nothing,” Liv countered. “What if we’re all separate, but that’s not how it was meant to be? What if we forged bonds, and I’m not referring to those stuffy little agreements the Council makes me negotiate.”
“Liv, I’m all for being open-minded, but you can’t delude yourself into thinking they are the same as us,” Clark explained. “Magicians were put on this Earth to protect magic. We’re the civilized race that has always craved justice with magic. We will sacrifice freedoms to ensure that powers aren’t abused.”
Liv flipped through her book, thoroughly tired of having this conversation with Clark. She was surprised when the book stopped on a random page that didn’t feel so random. She sat up, clearing her throat. “Magicians are one of the least understood creatures. Considered to be more civilized than the other races, they’ve been governing since the beginning, with the inception of the House of Seven. However, their practices are often seen as arbitrary by outsiders, and their methods unchecked. Many wonder how they became the constabularies of the magical world without question. Is it that the elves simply don’t care, and the giants prefer anonymity, and the gnomes like having a governing body that does their dirty work? There is no consensus on this, and the history doesn’t tell a straightforward story. It is clear that the one magical race cloaked in the most mystery is the magicians.”
Liv shut the book, giving Clark a victorious look.
“Written by a giant,” he said, having spied the name of the author: Bermuda Laurens.
Liv rolled her eyes. “It’s not just in this book. I can’t find the names of the founding families anywhere.”
“They are in the ancient chamber,” Clark reasoned.
“But why? Why isn’t there this giant history book that explains exactly how the House of Seven was formed?” Liv argued.
“Because that would undoubtedly detail our weaknesses,” Clark fired back.
“You say that in an almost rehearsed manner,” Liv said. “Is that one of Adler’s lines?”
“No,” Clark said, biting off the word. Then he shook his head. “Yeah, fine. But he’s right. If we put our history out there for everyone to read about the magic that formed the House of Seven, that would put weapons in our enemies’ hands. They might find out how to enter the House. They would know how we are governed. They would know more than they should.”
“And yet, we keep it such a secret that even the royals don’t know the history,” Liv countered.
“It’s for the best,” Clark said, rubbing his knuckles into his forehead the way he did when he was frustrated.
“I’m not so sure.” It was actually Sophia who communicated her dissent.
Clark shook his head at his little sister. “I agree there is something going on. I still haven’t figured out what the deal is with the canisters, but that’s separate from what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe,” Liv said, uncertainty in her tone.
“And despite my digging, I can’t find anything nefarious about the storage area you discovered in the monastery,” Clark stated.
“How so?” Liv inquired.
“Well, those canisters of magic are rare—”
“Not if you were in the room I was in,” Liv interrupted. “There were several hundred. It was almost blinding.”
“Right, but in the scheme of things, they are considered rare,” Clark said dismissively. “From everything I can learn from doing research, storage units of magic like that are dangerous because there are no controls on them. Anyone, like unregistered magicians, can use them to do anything they want and get away with it. You’ll remember that Valentino was ready to use the power for his own selfish gains. It’s not a safe form of magic, so maybe they are being stored in that place to keep them away from those who would abuse them.”
“Maybe,” Liv said, reluctance in her voice again. She saw a figure materialize at the far end of a row. Stefan’s image might not have even registered, except that he’d poked his head into the light of a neighboring row. Once he caught sight of the three in the reading area, he’d disappeared back into the row. Why was he always hanging out in this area? Had he been trying to spy on them and realized that charms had been used to prevent that?
Liv leaned forward. “Hey, Soph, will you put a disguising spell on me?”
“For sure,” the young magician squealed, hopping up to her feet, her pink dress and curls bouncing with the movement.
“Wait, why are you having her do it?” Clark questioned. “You know how to do it, right? Please tell me the giant hasn’t neglected your training that badly?”
Liv wanted to ignore him, but not at the expense of Rory’s good name. “Of course he hasn’t. I daresay you couldn’t find me in a game of hide-and-seek.”
Sophia giggled. Clark scowled. It was the new family dynamic that Liv was becoming accustomed to, and sort of enjoying.
“I want Sophia to do it so that it’s not trackable, since her magic isn’t registered yet.” Liv waved in a “hurry up” fashion. “Will you please? I’m going to follow someone if I can catch up with him.”
Sophia nodded, pressing her finger to her chin, thinking. “Here, how about this?” She waved her hand in the air, and the next thing Liv knew her form had disappeared.
“Did you make me invisible?” Liv asked, impressed. She had expected Sophia to make it so she blended into her surroundings or took on an image another person expected to see. There were literally hundreds of disguising spells, but invisibility was rare and took an extraordinary amount of energy.
Sophia nodded with a suddenly tired face. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” Liv said, wanting to rush forward to scoop up the little girl, who looked like she might pass out at any moment.
To her surprise, Clark stepped forward, looking in the direction he’d last seen Liv. “Go on, then. Do what you were going to do. I’ll take care of this little one. She’ll need a nap now.”
Liv smiled. “And a cookie.”
“Three,” Sophia said, sounding a bit delirious.
Liv didn’t look back as she hurried off, hoping to catch up with Stefan bef
ore he got away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The streets of the city were strangely deserted when Liv stepped through the portal Stefan had created. Rory had recently taught her how to stall a portal from closing by, in effect, throwing her foot in.
The chilly air next to the canal was a stark contrast to the weather in Santa Monica where they’d come from.
Stefan had already traveled quickly down the cobbled street by the time Liv snuck through the portal, slipping through just before it closed. She slid into the shadows of a building, its windows decorated with planters overflowing with flowers. In the distance, she heard laughter and jazz music. This place was cheery, even with the sun setting and the lamps flickering to life.
Liv peeked out of her hiding spot as Stefan disappeared around a corner. The invisibility cloak that Sophia had put on her had worn off, but it had gotten her this far. “What are you up to, Stefan?” Liv muttered to herself.
“This is Amsterdam,” Plato said, who was now at her side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liv asked, peering down at the cat.
“Well, there are a number of things the Warrior could be doing. For instance, in that direction is the famed red light district.” He tilted his head toward where Stefan had gone.
“Eww.”
“Or he could be working a case for the Council,” Plato reasoned.
“He might, but something tells me that he’s up to something or working a rogue case,” Liv stated, coming out of her spot and hurrying down the lane.
“Why, because that’s what you do in your spare time?” Plato asked.
Liv ignored him. “Stefan followed me. Logic would prove that he was suspicious of my activities because he’s also hiding something.”
“Oh, so you mean a liar is the first to think someone is lying? A sneak is always paranoid that someone is spying on them? It’s like a form of reflection?”
“Yes, that’s the idea,” Liv answered.
“Or maybe he was just following you because you were in fact up to something: stealing treasures from museums and breaking into monasteries,” Plato mused.