The Shatterproof Magician (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 4)

by Sarah Noffke

  “Of course.”

  “Tell her that I did as she asked,” Plato continued. “I ensured that her daughter was never alone. And when Guinevere Paris Beaufont needed to go away on her own, I ensured she had a friend. Because he needed a friend too.”

  Paris’ mouth popped open. “It was you. You’re the one who sent Faraday to accompany me? He was sent then? Why?”

  She suddenly felt like more of her life was a lie, but she couldn’t force herself to be mad about this. Faraday had gone with her to Happily Ever After College because of a deal, but she also sensed that he wanted to. Apparently, he needed help and therefore agreed. That was life, Paris reasoned. Others did something to get something out of it, whether help or resources or knowledge or love.

  “He was drafted because your mother never wanted you to be alone. I knew that. Faraday was perfect for the job because he’s smart, resourceful, and good at his core. As I said, he needed a friend as much as you did. I’m not sure if you noticed, but he’s strange.”

  Paris laughed. “I like that about him. But that means it’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one who knows Faraday’s secret and won’t let him tell it, aren’t you? What is it then?”

  “Tell Liv that much like her familiar, her daughter’s made a promise,” Plato explained, not directly answering her question. “He has fulfilled his end of the deal, and I’m willing to make good on my end now.”

  Paris knew that he was telling her all this for her benefit and not so she’d communicate it to her mother. Faraday had made a deal with Plato, but now she needed to know why and what he got out of it for helping her. “What was his promise, Plato? Was it to assist me?” Paris thought of how Faraday had been by her side when she faced the Deathly Shadow. He’d been by her side all the time, she realized, even when she didn’t know it.

  “Indeed, he was to assist you, and he’s done that, helping you to bring back your parents. I can’t tell you his secret, but I can tell you where to look. I can also tell you that I’ve set up everything to help him undo the past if that’s what he wants. I’ll make good on my end of the bargain, as promised.”

  “I’m getting tired of this ‘can’t tell me’ bullshit and puzzle pieces cloaked in mystery. Where am I supposed to look for this secret and undoing thing to help Faraday?”

  “The one place you’re never to go to at night at Happily Ever After College.” Plato winked.

  “The Bewilder Forest? It’s haunted, and that’s only going to cause more problems for Hemingway.”

  “Yet, that’s where you must go if you want the truth,” Plato said flatly.

  “Does it have to be at night?”

  “Yes, it must. Tell Faraday that it’s all arranged. He can find the last two remaining puzzle pieces there. Once he recovers them, put it all together, and he’ll be free.”

  “He still can’t tell me anything, can he?”

  “He can, but first, you must recover those puzzle pieces in the Bewilder Forest all cloaked in mystery that you don’t like so much.”

  Paris sighed, realizing it was never going to be as easy as simply being told Faraday’s secret. Still, it also sounded like there was maybe something to undo, to fix Faraday. Why had Plato said that he’d set everything up to undo Faraday’s past “if that’s what he wanted?” She needed more answers. Paris needed these puzzle pieces.

  More confused than ever, Paris closed her eyes for half a beat. There were so many things weighing on her shoulders, but they didn’t deter her.

  Letting out another breath to loosen her chest, she opened her eyes and turned her attention to the Fantastical Armory, trying to figure out what other questions she had for the lynx. When she returned her gaze to where Plato had been, she realized she shouldn’t have taken her eyes off him because he’d taken that moment to disappear.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I know, I know. I’m late.” Paris rushed into the Fantastical Armory, used to Papa Creola’s usual greeting.

  Father Time casually looked up. He held a rag in his hands and was polishing what appeared to be a large river rock. He was wearing a tie-dye T-shirt as usual. This one’s hippie phrase said, “Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything?”

  His long stringy brown hair was obstructing one eye. With the back of his hand, he pushed the strand away. “You’re not late.”

  “I’m not?” Paris looked at one of the many grandfather clocks on the wall. “You told me to come over right after class and I—”

  “Stopping to talk to King Rudolf Sweetwater wasn’t the best use of your time,” Papa Creola cut in. “However, that trashcan needed replacing, and now it will be. Well, after they peel Ramy Vance off it.”

  “You really do orchestrate everything, don’t you?” Paris slid the tray of chocolate fudge, chocolate chip cookies onto the counter in front of Subner, who hadn’t looked up from his book to acknowledge her.

  “No, I can’t take credit for everything,” Papa Creola answered. “Mama Jamba and a select few share the blame there too. Then there are a few variables that always keep us on our toes.”

  Paris smirked at him, grateful that she wasn’t late. “Well, I got here—”

  “When you were supposed to,” Papa Creola interrupted again. “You got the information from the lynx, and now you’re ready for the next pieces of the puzzle, which I’m going to give you.”

  She laughed at this. “You’re in on this Faraday business as well, huh?”

  “As you know, it involves time travel and so, of course,” Papa Creola answered. “I need you to fix this business, which is why I consented for Faraday to be your companion for the mission.”

  Paris crossed her arms and leaned back casually on the glass counter. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you told me all this stuff instead of letting me fall in the rabbit hole?”

  “That’s what the Beaufonts always say,” he muttered, continuing to polish the large stone. “No. Things happen because of the way they’re set up. If I told you spoilers, you’d mess up everything with anticipation.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she remarked dryly.

  “You sound like your mother with that sarcasm.” Subner finally spoke, pulling the tray of cookies toward him without saying, “thank you.”

  “Speaking of which, I’m not here to see my parents am I?” Paris questioned Papa Creola. “I’m here for this puzzle piece then?”

  “We’re not to your parents yet.” Papa Creola laid the polished rock onto the countertop in front of him.

  That answer filled Paris with dread. What if she wasn’t seeing them not only that day but for a while? Could it take another fifteen years for them to recover? That would make things super weird.

  Papa Creola held out his hand, and another large river rock appeared in his palm. He went straight to work polishing it. “I need you to get the puzzle pieces of this Faraday situation back together and get things back in their time.”

  “You mean that since Faraday time-traveled, he has to go back?” Paris hid her instant remorse. Her job was to put Faraday back in his time. Of course, the talking squirrel was stuck, not only as a woodland creature but also in this timeline, which wasn’t his real one. She didn’t want to lose her friend, and yet because he was her friend, she had to.

  “Yes, I need you to fix this time travel issue and more,” he answered cryptically.

  “Please don’t explain,” Paris jibed. “I definitely don’t want to know what the ‘more’ part is.”

  “Good, I’m not telling you,” Papa Creola said flatly, still polishing the stone.

  “Sarcasm is the language of the uncouth,” Subner advised through a mouthful of crumbs.

  “You’re welcome for the cookies,” Paris said to him.

  The greasy-haired hippie ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “I didn’t say, ‘thank you.’”

  “That’s my point.” Paris still leaned on the counter and wondered if she’d get in trouble for killing Father Time’s assistant.r />
  “Did you bring any milk to go with the cookies?” Subner asked.

  Paris chuckled, looking down at her crossed arms. “Does it look like I brought you a jug of milk?”

  He shrugged while chomping into the next treat.

  She shook her head and returned her attention to Papa Creola, who had conjured another river rock and was polishing it. “These puzzle pieces? You have them for me? Are they enigmatic bits of information that lead me on a wild goose chase?”

  “They aren’t ready yet,” Papa Creola answered simply.

  “Do you have an ETA? Being the guy in charge of time and all?” Paris asked.

  He shook his head. “That’s up to you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? Does this get any more confounding? How can it be up to me when I get these secret puzzle pieces for a mystery I didn’t know I had to solve?”

  “When you’re ready, they will be.” Papa Creola kept polishing the third rock.

  “Is this like that philosophy that when the pupil is ready, the teacher will appear?” Paris joked.

  “It’s more like when you’re ready to see your parents and not looking for tactics to stall, that the pieces will be available.” Papa Creola glanced up at her. “I’m getting tired of polishing, so maybe we can progress.”

  Paris’ mouth fell open. “Wait, I do get to see my parents. But you said—”

  “He said, we’re not to your parents yet,” Subner cut in.

  “So I do get to see them today?” Paris questioned, her heart suddenly beating fast in her chest.

  “Do you want to?” Papa Creola asked, eyeing her.

  “W-W-Well, of course,” she answered.

  “Your stuttering doesn’t make you sound convincing,” Subner said dryly.

  What Plato had told her had made her feel better about seeing her parents, but it didn’t take away all of the nervousness. Even if she knew they’d love her no matter what, she was still anxious about the whole thing.

  As with any new situation, like attending Happily Ever After College or going on her first missions, there would be butterflies. That had to be expected. Paris reasoned that there would be something wrong with her if she weren’t nervous about seeing her parents after everything they’d all been through. It was a big deal.

  It was also the beginning of something wonderful she believed at her core when she allowed herself to fantasize. That was the thing. She had such high hopes for the life she’d have with her parents.

  There. I admitted it. I have high hopes. Yes, I’ll be disappointed if my relationship with my parents doesn’t meet my expectations, but at least I’ll know. There’s nothing wrong with wanting the best.

  Paris pushed off the counter, standing tall. She gave Papa Creola a sturdy look with conviction in her eyes. “I’m ready. I want to see my parents.”

  He sighed and placed the river rock with the other two on the countertop. “Good. The puzzle pieces are ready then. Go through the door at the back and descend the stairs. Your parents are waiting.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Each step down the long staircase felt like part of a mediation. Paris wasn’t rushing or taking her time as she descended to Papa Creola’s “office” where her parents were recuperating.

  The area was totally different than the last time that Paris had been down there. Instead of a set of cozy couches and armchairs, there was a large dining room table next to the roaring fire. Standing in front of the long table, set with elegant plates, stemware and a beautiful bouquet, were the two most loving faces Paris had ever seen.

  She wasn’t sure what she’d been worried about as her feet carried her quickly across the rug-covered floor and into the widespread arms of her parents. Her mother pulled her in tight, and her father wrapped his strong arms around them both. They stayed like that for a long time…the perfect amount of time.

  When Paris peeled away, she discovered tears in her eyes. Her parents shared the same appearance, both warriors wiping them away as they straightened, checking her over.

  “It’s so good to see you, Paris.” Her mother continued to push away the tears with the side of her palm. “You’ll have to excuse us the last time you saw us. We were pretty comatose.”

  “Well, it’s understandable.” Paris smiled as her eyes ran over her parent’s faces. “How do you feel?”

  Her father slid his hands through his jet-black hair. He was undoubtedly attractive with his piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “It’s been quite the transition. I can’t tell you how many times we tried to wake up.”

  “I’d manage to sit up and stir this once,” Liv motioned at her husband. “He’d rouse, and I’d pass out.”

  “A moment later, I would too,” Stefan admitted with a laugh.

  “It went like that for days,” Liv stated. “I’m proud to inform you that we’ve been awake for a solid six hours.”

  “That must be why Papa Creola finally allowed me to see you two.” Paris now studied her mother’s face. She was incredibly beautiful with serene bluish-green eyes and balanced features. None were overly pronounced, and they all complemented each other. Her long blonde hair fell past her shoulders and was slightly unkempt in that beach wave look.

  “We asked that hippie to send you right away,” Liv explained. “He said you had to kill someone first.”

  A laugh burst from Paris’ mouth. “Yeah, apparently Papa wanted a new trashcan for Roya Lane.”

  Stefan shook his head. “Such strange priorities that man has.”

  “When you’re timeless, you care about trash receptacles,” Liv joked. She smiled so wide at Paris that her shoulders bunched up high. “It’s so perfect seeing you. We can’t tell you how incredibly surreal this is.”

  Stefan chuckled. “Can you believe we were nervous to see you? We thought you wouldn’t like us, or we wouldn’t know what to say or that it would be awkward.”

  “But it’s not at all,” Liv added. “It feels like no time has passed and we are a family once more…well, always.”

  “Familia Est Sempiternum,” Paris’ father said proudly.

  “Familia Est Sempiternum,” Paris echoed.

  “Well, like no time has passed, and also you and I can share clothes,” Liv teased, looking Paris over. She patted her husband’s shoulder. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “She looks like you,” he said fondly, looking at his daughter.

  It should have been odd that the couple in front of Paris, her parents, were physically only in their early thirties when she was twenty, but it wasn’t. To her surprise, it was the most normal thing in the world. Paris reminded herself that she was a halfling with demon blood and her “normal” would never suit another—as it shouldn’t. Paris’ life should only ever fit her.

  Liv clapped her hands together, looking over her shoulder. “Are you hungry? Papa prepared us some food to celebrate the reunion.”

  Paris tilted her head in surprise. “Father Time cooks? Then why did he make me bring Subner cookies?”

  Both of her parents laughed. Liv added, “Oh, Papa can do takeout like nobody's business. I don’t know how that man survived before Uber.”

  Stefan nodded. “The cookies were a goodwill present to try and make Subner feel better. The grouch will be sour that Liv is awake.”

  “That’s what Plato said,” Paris offered.

  At the mention of the lynx, Liv looked like she might start crying again. “You talked to Plato? How is he?” She waved forward. “What am I saying? He’s always been the same. Timeless and mysterious.”

  “He missed you painfully,” Paris informed. “He says that the last fifteen have been his hardest ever, and that seems like it’s saying a lot for a timeless being.”

  “Well, I can see why. Without me, there’s no one to roll my eyes at his dry sense of humor.”

  “He also said that he did what you asked and ensured that someone always watched me.” Paris detailed the whole Faraday situation.

  “I knew he would
n’t let me down,” Liv said when Paris finished talking. “I mean, I didn’t know I was gone fifteen years, but once I did, I knew our family and friends would’ve taken care of you.”

  “Everyone took care of me in their way.” Paris explained how each person took a various role to protect her until she was ready to face the Deathly Shadow.

  Stefan closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head briefly. “Wow, I had no idea how much everything would have had to change in our absence. However, now that I’m coming to, it all makes sense. You had to be protected. So you were raised on Roya Lane?”

  Paris nodded. “Uncle John became a detective for the Fairy Law Enforcement Agency. FLEA for short.”

  “I’ll have to check into that,” Liv joked. “I’m not sure I like another magical organization policing on my lane.”

  Paris chuckled too. “Apparently, everything had to be restructured.”

  “I’d say.” Stefan ran his hands through his hair again, looking overwhelmed. “The House of Fourteen has two new Warriors and all because Clark and Raina married to save our positions.”

  “Imagine everyone’s faces when we waltz back in there.” Liv hunched up her shoulder, relishing the idea.

  “I think that’s still going to be a while,” Stefan added.

  She nodded. “Still, the sooner, the better. There have been a lot of lives uprooted all because of that. John isn’t with Alicia. She and Clark have a sham of a marriage. Your sister, well, she married a werewolf.”

  Stefan laughed. “I don’t know. She probably likes Fane. Raina likes hairy men.”

  “Fane, the Warrior on the Ludwig side, is a werewolf?” Paris realized how much she had to learn as well as explain to her parents.

  “Not only a werewolf, but the leader of the entire pack,” Stefan explained. “He’s part of the originals who are the only ones who can spread werewolfism.”

  Paris’ mouth popped open. “Wow, that’s really cool.”

  “My point remains.” Liv turned to her husband. “We have to get back to normal. Then everyone else can…well, sort of. I think we need to get our friends a nice gift basket to thank them for all they did.”