by Sarah Noffke
“Oh, well, what a fun surprise for them.” Sophia giggled at the notion that doing more work was considered a privilege. Brownies were the best creatures on the planet. “Where do they think the candy came from?”
Pricilla giggled. “They always make up a reasonable explanation, such as an anonymous friend left it, or they bought it and forgot. Something innocent that they believe without a second thought.”
Sophia nodded. “I guess these same people are used to waking up to a clean house and chores done that they didn’t do, so maybe they aren’t in the habit of questioning things.”
“They are excellent mortals, and in being so, they work extremely hard,” Pricilla explained. “Most pass out at the end of the day after working nonstop, tucking in their children, and helping a friend. Usually in the morning, upon finding the laundry pressed and folded and the dishes cleaned and put away, they imagine that they did it and simply forgot in their tiredness.”
“Wow, it seems you all take care of the best mortals.”
Pricilla smiled wide, showing her large square teeth. “We do. They’re very deserving.”
“I’m sure they’d be grateful for your help, if only they knew about it.” Sophia winked.
The Brownie blushed. “Well, we do it because they should be rewarded and for no other reason.” She pointed at the back. “Now, on the other hand, there are the not-so-well-behaved mortals, and I believe Mortimer was working on that list for you.”
Sophia nodded. “Thank you. I’ll go and visit him now.”
Pricilla held up a little trinket of chocolate. “First, you must take one of these.”
“Oh, I can’t do that.” Sophia shook her head. “I’m not a well-behaved mortal.”
“You’re better in my opinion,” Pricilla whispered, leaning forward again. “Because of what you do selflessly and usually without credit, those mortals we reward can go about their lives, safe on a happy planet. If anyone deserves our help and treats, it’s you. That’s why Mortimer and I are always happy to assist.”
How could Sophia argue with that? The truth was that she couldn’t. She was hungry, not having gotten a cookie at the Crying Cat Bakery because…well, it was probably poisoned. She took the offered treat and smiled. “Well, thank you. I’m sure this will be delicious.”
“I made them last night,” Pricilla said proudly.
“If the Brownies take care of the hardworking mortals, I want to know who takes care of you all.” Sophia winked.
As Mortimer told Sophia during their last conversation, Pricilla said, “We all take care of each other. That’s the way it should be.”
Sophia smiled, not adding anything because she couldn’t agree more. In the ideal world, the magical races and mortals would all look out for one another—a perfectly reciprocal process.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
“Sophia Beaufont, rider for the Dragon Elite,” Mortimer said when she entered his office. The Brownie was leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head.
Sitting on the desk in front of him was a large stack of paper. Like the chocolates and wrapping and boxes in the receptionist area in front of Pricilla, it nearly obstructed Mortimer.
She smiled at him and nodded. “How are you? Are things better with the union?”
He toggled his head back and forth. “They go back and forth. Again, you do your job and let me help you. In time, we’ll win this battle.”
Sophia nodded. “I hope you’re right.”
“It’s what my instinct advises me,” Mortimer stated. “Now, you asked for a list of all the criminals so you could stop bad guys and therefore make good guys’ lives better. Or at least, that’s how I’ll position it when I give the full report to the union—after you save the day.” He patted the stack of paper. “Here we have a list of every mortal that’s regularly breaking the law. I used a complex equation that’s different than our usual one.”
Sophia tensed, guilt prickling her throat. She had to make a separate request of Mortimer based on new information, and that instantly filled her with remorse. “Oh, I hope it wasn’t too much work.”
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “For Sophia Beaufont, rider for the Dragon Elite, it is never too much work.”
“That’s a relief.” Sophia sighed.
“I simply had to throw out the qualifying criteria I use for finding good mortals,” Mortimer began. “I didn’t want to home in on those who sometimes break the law. We don’t cater to those types, but they also didn’t seem like the ones you were looking for. From what I understand, you needed criminals who regularly broke laws and profited from their dealings.”
Sophia nodded. “Correct. Not people who speed or skimp on their taxes or take too many napkins at a restaurant.”
He pursed his lips. “Yes, not mortals we’d serve, but also not bad ones either. Merely the middle range. So I therefore put my attention on finding mortals who were always breaking laws—ones who had their business centered around illegal activity.” Mortimer slapped the stack of paper and grinned. “I’ve come up with a list here.”
Sophia tilted her head, unsure if the stack was too small or too large, considering how many mortals she expected regularly broke the law. “That’s it?”
“Yes,” Mortimer chirped. “There are six thousand pages here, and the names are in eight-point font, single-spaced with four columns per sheet.”
Sophia gulped.
“Oh, and the pages are double-sided,” Mortimer added.
Sophia closed her eyes for a half-beat, feeling overwhelmed. “Maybe my job should be to go after every person on that list and knock them upside the head.”
“I thought your job was to stop the Rogue Riders,” Mortimer said, confused.
“It is,” Sophia related. “I didn’t realize how many criminals were out there in the mortal world. No wonder my job is never done.”
Mortimer nodded, a sympathetic expression on his face. “In this instance, I get why you’re focusing on criminals. However, I’ll go back to my original point the last time we spoke. You can punish every bad guy, or you can reward every good guy. We Brownies prefer to do the latter. Also, you’re very talented, Sophia Beaufont. I don’t think your job should be to go around slapping thieves on the hand. Let the police officers do that. You’re cut out for bigger things.”
“Thanks.” Sophia swallowed the tension in her throat. “I guess you’re right. I needed this list so I can stop a big bad guy whose actions are trickling over and creating huge issues worldwide.”
“Exactly!” Mortimer stuck his finger triumphantly in the air and almost immediately deflated, his eyes shrinking suddenly. “Of course, this is a large list, and tracking down all of these criminals to see if they have dealings with the Rogue Riders will take you some time. I wish there were more I could have done to help.”
Sophia brightened, the guilt she’d felt moments prior receding. “Actually, there is something. I’ve determined where the Rogue Riders are and think if we focus on criminals in that area, I’ll have an easier job.”
“Oh, that is good news!” Mortimer exclaimed.
“So not too much work for you?” Sophia asked.
He shook his head. “It shouldn’t be, depending on the area. Is it like before? Are they on an island in the South Pacific or some other remote location where they’re keeping their dragons?”
Sophia twisted her mouth to the side. “No, they’re in Las Vegas.”
“Oh.” Mortimer drew out the word. The lightness fell from his face.
“Is that a problem?”
He shook his head at once, his ears knocking him in the head. “No, not at all, Sophia Beaufont, rider for the Dragon Elite. Don’t you worry. I can get you a list of repeat offenders in Las Vegas. It will take a little more time.”
Sophia smiled, grateful. “Can you also have your Brownies look around Las Vegas for suspicious activity? While they’re doing their day-to-day jobs?”
Mortimer’s eyes shifted to the sid
e. “I can, but I have to admit that we don’t serve many mortals in Las Vegas. Only a few families, to be honest.” He leaned forward, cupping his mouth. “If I’m honest, there aren’t a lot of well-behaving mortals there. There’s also a ton of very badly behaving fae.”
Sophia nodded. “I figured as much. If you don’t mind, that will help.”
“I don’t mind at all!” he yelped excitedly. “Again, helping you helps me, and that helps the world.”
“Well, specifically, I’d like the Brownies to look for any prisoner who could be held by criminals or the Rogue Riders,” Sophia explained. “It’s a Warrior for the House of Fourteen.”
“Not Liv Beaufont though?” Mortimer asked, worry springing to his tone.
She shook her head. “No, but we still need to rescue this Warrior fast so any clues you can give us for a location will be helpful.”
“Of course,” Mortimer said with confidence. “I’ll narrow down the list of criminals in Las Vegas and assign some Brownies to do some investigating.”
Sophia smiled broadly. “You really are the best, Mortimer. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He returned the gesture. “I say the same about you and your lovely sister.”
Chapter Sixty-Eight
“Here’s the case of Heals Pills you asked for.” Ramy, the new shopkeeper for Rudolf and Sophia, put a large box in the middle of the table at the Forever Vegan Café. He looked like he was going to pass out from the effort. He pointed over his shoulder. “There are also two more boxes, but I left them at the shop.”
Sophia smiled. “Thanks. Since I have to stop by the shop anyway, you could have left this there, and I could have gotten it when I stopped by to get the rest.”
Ramy waved her off, his eyes skirting to Wilder beside her with curiosity. The other dragonrider had decided to meet Sophia for a quick meal and because she’d need help carting all the Heals Pills back. Sophia had the business for many reasons, but the chief one wasn’t to make money. It was to help the world. A village in Africa was suffering from a plague and Sophia thought that one of the newbie dragonriders and Evan or Mahkah or Wilder could deliver the supply. It would be good training and also a positive mission.
“I wanted to be helpful, so I brought one of the boxes,” Ramy stated, sliding into the booth opposite them.
“That’s not helpful because we have to cart this back,” Sophia observed.
“I realized that halfway here, but turning back seemed silly especially since I hadn’t had any cardio today.” Ramy pulled off the backpack attached to his shoulders.
“Well, thanks for the thought and for meeting me,” Sophia offered, smiling politely. She still hadn’t figured out why he was the person to run Heals Pills, but she didn’t doubt the advice that Mae Ling had given her. She was merely unsure about it all. “I wanted to check in with you about the shop. See how you like the job and if King Rudolf Sweetwater is treating you okay. And if there are any concerns.”
Ramy looked around the place speculatively. “I don’t see any movie stars daily at the shop.”
Sophia nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“I once thought I saw ET on Roya Lane,” Wilder offered. “Then I realized it was a really ugly gnome.”
Ramy grinned. “I sold that guy some of the elixir. I hope it fixes his face—and the rest of him.” He offered a hand to Wilder. “I’m Ramy. And you’d be?”
“Wilder Thomson, a member of the Dragon Elite.”
“You look like you could be famous. You have movie star hair,” Ramy stated. “Have you been in any films?”
Wilder laughed. “Not that I’m aware of.”
Ramy nodded. “Well, where do you all want to eat?”
Sophia batted her eyes at him. “Here. That’s why I asked you to meet us here.”
“Ohhhhh,” Ramy said, obviously disappointed as he took in the bong in the corner and the many hippies chanting in the corner or discussing each other’s past lives. “A vegan restaurant. I was under the impression that you made good decisions, Sophia.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I do, but Wilder here is a vegan, so I figured we could eat here. There’s a variety of food.”
Sophia handed Ramy a menu, which he didn’t look at.
“Yeah, no thanks.” He opened his backpack and pulled out several containers. “I bring my food in the event of dining with such bad decision-makers. It happens more than you’d think when hanging out with celebrities.”
Wilder laughed at this. “Well, I can’t stand myself, so what can I say.”
“How are you doing with the shop?” Sophia glanced at the menu and found zero options that intrigued her.
“It’s fun.” Ramy opened a full container of various cheeses. Most of them gave off a pungent aroma. “The customers aren’t prettier than me, which is nice. They all need my help instead of telling me to back up and give them space. They ask for my advice instead of asking me why I’m standing outside their showers.”
Sophia nodded. “Wow, the bodyguard business is really strange.”
Ramy nodded and picked up a piece of cheese.
“And that is?” Wilder pointed at the hunk of cheese.
“It’s ten-thousand-year-old goat’s cheese,” Ramy answered. “I’ve been carting it around for a while, looking for the right time to eat it. This seems like the one.”
“Because?” Wilder questioned, amusement bouncing around in his eyes.
“Because I haven’t died in almost a week,” Ramy stated.
Wilder blinked in confusion, looked at Sophia, and showed her an expression that said, “It’s probably about time you explain this to me.”
She smiled politely. “Right. Well, you see, Ramy can’t really die.”
“Easily,” Ramy interrupted.
“Exactly,” she continued. “He can sort of die, but he’ll come back to life based on some incident he had where he fell in a fountain, one we’re guessing is linked to the fountain of youth. The flip side to never being able to die, or rather, always come back from death, is that he’s sort of accident-prone.”
“Which isn’t the case when I’m on Roya Lane.” Ramy gobbled down a piece of cheese and wiped his mouth. “This has been the longest stretch I’ve had in a while.”
“I wonder why that is,” Sophia mused.
He shrugged. “Probably because I don’t leave the shop much. Things remain pretty normal. I work in the store. Go home, then do it again. There aren’t movie sets and crazed fans and Los Angeles traffic. It’s normal stuff.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Sophia said. “That was going to be my next question. The person who suggested I hire you seemed to think that the shop would be in danger of sorts and therefore you were the right person for the job.”
“Because I’m so very brave, right?” Ramy asked.
Sophia shook her head. “I think it was because you can’t die, and that’s the potential.”
“I want to believe it’s because I’m so brave,” Ramy countered as the waitress approached.
Wilder patted the table. “No one is stopping you from believing that.”
Ramy rolled his eyes with dread as the waitress wearing lots of colors and flowing fabrics approached. “It’s about time, missy. We’ve been waiting for a while for our order to be taken.”
The woman, who was probably named Rainbow or Summertime or Cosmic, simply blinked at him. “My inner child was busy exploring feel-good exercises. If you needed me, then you should have sent your inner child to tag mine, and we would have played chase until I arrived here to take your order.”
Ramy’s eyes widened as he turned to face Sophia. “Where have you taken me? Is this hell?”
She laughed and nodded. “Pretty much. It’s a vegan restaurant. It’s full of hippies, and their mission in life is to make us all suffer indirectly.”
“We’re all on the same mission, man,” the waitress said in an airy tone. “It’s to love one another.”
&nbs
p; Ramy let out a long breath, looking directly at Sophia. “Is this about my performance at the shop? Is this your way of firing me?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s a place that has lots of options for Wilder, and since I didn’t care and figured you didn’t either, I allowed it.”
“So what are you going to have?” Rainbow Sparkle asked.
“I’ll have this piece of chocolate.” Sophia held up the candy that Pricilla had given her.
“I brought cheese,” Ramy stated proudly.
“I’ll have the protein power goddess bowl,” Wilder said.
“Do you want that with extra empowerment essence?” Palm Tree questioned.
“No, I’m good,” Wilder stated.
“I’ll bring your order when it’s ready or when my inner child finishes napping,” Coconut said and danced back toward the kitchen.
“Wow, this place is nuts.” Wilder shook his head.
“It’s the worst,” Sophia stated. “Thought you’d get a kick out of how most vegans are a pain in the ass. Thanks for not being one.”
He nodded. “I’m vegan to piss off Evan, mostly. And because animal products are poison. We should get rid of all of the animals on the planet. They’re foul creatures.”
Ramy took a bite of his cheese. “So you’re not vegan because you’re holier than thou and want to pass along your agenda?”
“No, that would be a lot of work,” Wilder answered.
“It’s some sort of anti-animal thing?” Ramy continued.
“Yeah, but unfortunately I get lumped in with all these damn hippies who are doing it because they like eating hemp powder.” Wilder leaned forward. “It’s gross. Don’t eat it.”
“Don’t worry.” Ramy shook his head. “So what would it take to eat a burger, you think?”
“Why?” Wilder questioned.
“Well, because everyone has a price for doing something they don’t want to do,” he answered. “Like, I didn’t want to tell Val Kilmer a thing or two, but Keanu made me a promise. So I did it. That was my price. Totally worth it.”