by Sarah Noffke
Rudolf gave her a sideways expression. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“What about the fact that she said I’m dead to her?” Rudolf questioned.
“Again, that doesn’t affect your status as king.”
“So, I’m not, in fact, dead to her?”
Sophia was having trouble keeping her patience. “Serena is just pregnant. In a few months, the babies will be here and…well, things will probably get a lot worse.”
“Oh, you think so?” Rudolf said, hope in his twinkling eyes. “I hope you’re not just trying to make me feel better. And she will only be pregnant for like, another few days.”
“Wait…what?” Sophia asked. “I thought she was only a few months pregnant.”
“Yeah, but fae don’t have to be pregnant as long,” he explained.
Sophia nodded. “So that’s why you all act the way you do.”
“Exactly!” Rudolf chirped and then looked confused. “Wait, what does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Sophia said, turning her attention to Wilder, who appeared far too amused by this exchange. “Wilder, this is King Rudolf Sweetwater. He is the king of the fae, and also a member of the Council for the House of Fourteen.”
“Well, actually…” Rudolf said, looking around. “They told me I had the day off. Apparently, the matters they were discussing don’t involve me.”
“Again, what exactly did they say?” Sophia questioned.
“They said, ‘Rudolf, go play in the street. Today we don’t need your nonsense.’”
“Okay,” Sophia said. “I think you interpreted that one correctly.”
“So, I decided to come here and hand out invitations to our babies’ shower,” he said, holding up his hand. A card materialized. “You’re invited.” He looked at Wilder. “Not you, though, because your name makes me feel inadequate.”
Wilder laughed. “Great reasoning.”
Sophia looked at the invitation, her brow furrowing. “Why does it say to wear a swimsuit?”
Rudolf rolled his eyes. “Duh. Because otherwise your clothes will get all wet. It’s a shower.”
“You get that—”
Wilder nudged Sophia’s shoulder, interrupting her. “I’d just let it go.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll wear my two-piece if I can make it.”
“But you must make it,” Rudolf begged. “I know for a fact that Serena demands yours and Liv’s presence.”
Sophia lowered her chin. “One more time, what did your wife say?”
“Well, she said, ‘The Beaufont sisters will be there over my dead body,’” Rudolf stated. “And as you know, my wife was dead, so technically her body is dead, but also not really. It’s confusing. I don’t get the whole ‘over my body’ part, but I think that means she demands your presence. Many of those expressions escape me.”
“Shocking.” Sophia gave Wilder an annoyed expression.
“So you’ll be there?” Rudolf asked, hope in his eyes.
“Well, I’m sort of busy with this whole dragon extinction problem the Council brought to my attention,” Sophia argued.
Rudolf leaned in closer. “But maybe they are like dinosaurs…”
“And extinct?” Sophia asked.
“No, that’s just what everyone thinks,” Rudolf answered. “But then you’re strolling down the Strip and bam, you run into one.”
“She’ll be there,” Wilder cut in. “Sophia wouldn’t miss it.”
She cast him an evil glare. “Wild—”
“I’ll cover your shift at the Gullington,” he cut her off.
“We don’t have shifts at the Gullington,” she argued.
“Of course, we do,” he said, trying to keep his laughter at bay. “I take the first one and you the second, so the aliens don’t enter the planet’s orbit.”
“Wow, you two are doing good work,” Rudolf said, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re on the job. But who is taking your shift right now if you two are here?”
“Evan,” Wilder answered at once. “We’ve got all the shifts covered. Don’t you worry, king.”
“Okay, well then it’s settled.” Rudolf hugged Sophia without asking. “I’ll see you at the shower. Buy us something really expensive. And remember we are having triplets, so that’s not one present. It’s four.”
Sophia’s head jerked to the side. “You get that…never mind. And yeah, I guess I’ll be there since my friend has so thoughtfully offered to take my shift to protect the Earth from aliens.”
“You are welcome,” Wilder said with a wink.
Rudolf offered a hand to the dragonrider. “Despite the fact that you have better hair than me, I think I might grow to like you, Wild…yeah, I’m sorry, I can’t say that name. It makes me feel like less than a man.”
Wilder nodded, shaking King Rudolf’s hand. “I’m glad to make your acquaintance. And the next time we meet, I’ll wear a hat.”
Rudolf beamed. “You’re a good man.”
Chapter Sixty-Eight
“Why the hell did you tell Rudolf that I’d go to the baby shower?” Sophia nearly slapped Wilder as they walked to the Fantastical Armory at the end of Roya Lane.
He laughed because he obviously wanted to die, she thought. “How could I not? That was too perfect. I’ve never met anyone like King Rudolf.”
“No one has until they do, and then you’ll find him to be the most irritating and strangely helpful person you’ve ever met,” Sophia related.
“I mean, how could you not want to go to a baby shower for four triplets all named Captain?” Wilder asked seriously. “I can only imagine the antics. I want to go.”
“Well, you can’t because you’re covering my shift at the Gullington, guarding the Earth from aliens,” Sophia seethed.
“Again, you’re very welcome,” he replied.
She shook her head. “You’re the worst.”
“That’s so true,” he said proudly as they entered the Fantastical Armory.
The easy grin on Wilder’s face dropped as soon as they entered the shop with thousands of weapons on display. “Whoa…” He halted just over the threshold, a look of pure panic on his face.
Sophia, remembering his gift with weapons, gave him a careful expression. “Are you okay? Do you want to wait outside?”
He seemed to be trying to swallow. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, I just wasn’t prepared. I have my shield up now.”
Wilder, whether he touched or was simply in the presence of a weapon, could feel the battles they’d been in. He could see the maker’s mark. The dragonrider understood a weapon better than most, and it was both a gift and a curse.
“Right on schedule,” Subner said, looking like a hippie wearing mom jeans that rode up to the middle of his waist and suspenders over a tucked-in T-shirt that read, “You are my spirit animal.”
Sophia didn’t mean to, but she sighed, remembering how she’d failed to bond to her mother’s sword. “Yeah, but I wasn’t successful.”
The elf with stringy brown hair waved her off, nearly pushing her to the side as he came to stand in front of Wilder. “We will get to you later, Sophia Beaufont. I was referring to Wilder. You are right on schedule.”
The dragonrider tucked his head back on his neck, appearing confused. “You were expecting me? Today?”
“Yes,” Subner replied. “I’ve been expecting you for…” He glanced at the iWatch on his wrist. “Well, since your birth.”
Wilder gave Sophia a look of surprise. “Now, that’s a way to be greeted. Take note.”
“Noted,” she said, looking around the shop.
Wilder extended a hand. “I’m Wilder, but I guess you know that.”
Subner, in a rare show of respect, bowed low to the dragonrider. “And I am Subner, the assistant to Father Time and Protector of Weapons.”
“You are the Protector?” Wilder asked, his surprise now morphing into shock. He glanced up at Sophia. “Why didn’t you tell me that Subner was the Pr
otector of Weapons?”
She shrugged, still looking for a way to get back at him for the baby shower business. “Hey, Wild, Subner is the Protector of Weapons.”
“Thanks. You’re a gem,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“And honestly,” Sophia began. “I really didn’t know him as Protector of Weapons, but I guess that makes sense now.” She studied the shop, which was unlike any she’d ever seen, every square inch of the walls covered in swords, shields, and other artifacts. The cases were filled with knives and various other weapons.
“Most only know me as Father Time’s assistant, if they know me at all,” Subner said, his eyes still intent on Wilder.
“You’ve been waiting to meet me, though?” Wilder asked, pointing at himself. “Why?”
“Because, you’re one of mine,” Subner explained, a certain secretive quality to his voice.
“Yours?” Wilder asked.
“Yes, but I can’t really explain it in a way you’ll fully understand,” Subner stated, strolling for the door at the back. “I’ll fetch Papa for you, Sophia, then we can get down to business.”
The elf disappeared through the door, leaving Sophia and Wilder alone.
He scratched his head. “What did any of that mean?”
“Welcome to the riddle world of Papa Creola,” she stated. “Nothing those two say will make sense, and yet, you’ll believe everything they say.”
“Wow, and here I thought Mama Jamba was eccentric,” Wilder stated, looking overwhelmed.
“Oh, just you wait,” Sophia said with a laugh.
“What does he mean, that I’m his?” Wilder asked, staring at his shoes like the answer might be written on the top of his boot.
“Maybe you’re distantly related,” she supplied. “Or he put a spark of his magic in you when you were born. Or he owns you, and now you must do his bidding for the rest of time—which apparently could be really short or long, depending on if Liv is successful on whatever mission she’s working on.”
“Really? The balance of time hangs on Liv’s head?” Wilder asked.
“Usually,” Sophia said casually. “She works for Papa Creola and does all his bidding. We all work for someone.”
Subner returned a moment later carrying a cup of tea. He blew on the hot liquid as he strode over to Wilder. “Here, this is for you.”
“Thanks,” Wilder said, taking the mug that appeared to be handmade.
“I’ll take coffee,” Sophia said, feeling ignored.
Subner waved her off. “There’s a coffee shop down the lane. But don’t drink the peppermint lattes. It will give you hives.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“What’s this?” Wilder asked, speculatively looking at the mug.
“It’s tea with CBD oil and collagen,” Subner answered.
“What will it do?” Wilder asked.
“Probably nothing, but in my new incarnation, I’m forced to do things consistent with hippie elf behavior.” Subner gave Sophia a tired expression. “I miss being a gnome. Their demeanor suited me marginally better.”
“This is so weird,” Sophia said, shaking her head at him.
“Well, thanks,” Wilder said, taking a sip. “What did you mean that I’m yours?”
“Maybe he meant you were his betrothed,” Sophia joked. “I’ll be at your bridal shower.”
Wilder shook his head at her. “You’re the worst.”
“Takes one to know one,” she fired back.
“Actually, Sophia was most correct with the explanation that she gave you while I was out of the room,” Subner explained.
“Which part?” Sophia asked. “About you two being distantly related? Or that you put a spark of your magic in him? Or that you own him, and from now on, he’ll do your bidding?” She laughed, thinking of the absurdity of the last statement.
Quite seriously, Subner stated, “All three, in fact.”
Wilder set the mug down. “Wait, I’m related to Father Time’s assistant?”
“Well, I was the Protector of Weapons before I took that position,” Subner answered.
“I have no idea who is in charge of Human Resources for this planet, but I think we need some alignment in the organizational structure,” Sophia said, striding over to a case and studying its contents.
“You put the spark in me that makes it so I can read weapons?” Wilder asked.
“Naturally,” Subner stated.
“And now I work for you?” Wilder questioned. “What about the Dragon Elite?”
“Similar to Warrior Liv Beaufont, you’ll work for both,” Subner answered. “She works for both the House of Fourteen and Papa Creola.”
“You’re never getting a day off now,” Sophia said.
“You’re one to talk,” Subner said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “You work for both the Dragon Elite and Mama Jamba.”
“What’s the difference?” she asked. “She’s pretty much Hiker’s boss.”
“Yes, but Mama always has a side agenda,” Subner stated. “You’ll see.”
“Can’t wait,” Sophia said.
“What will it include for me to work for you?” Wilder asked.
“You’ll see,” Subner replied.
Sophia giggled. “Don’t you love that answer?”
“Now, I’ll be taking Devon’s bow.” Subner held out his hands.
“Oh, right,” Wilder said, having forgotten the bow was strapped to his back. “Here you are.”
Subner ran his eyes appreciatively over the bow, his fingers fondly grazing its craftsmanship. “Simply incredible. And now in the right hands.”
“It is quite an extraordinary weapon,” Wilder stated. “And I can’t believe—”
Subner grabbed the bow with both hands and snapped it in two.
“What the—why did you do that?” Wilder asked in shock.
Subner dropped the two halves on the floor, where they dissolved into ash. “It was too powerful of a weapon. The bow never misses its target and always kills. That is too many absolutes. Wilder, what is the most important factor that makes a weapon incredible?”
“The one who wields it,” Wilder answered at once.
“Exactly,” Subner said proudly. “And when it doesn’t matter who wields it, it is of no use to this world. It is more trouble than good.”
“Is that the reason there are no guns here?” Sophia asked.
“Partly, although marksmanship does count with guns,” Subner stated. “But those are not weapons I condone. They are the product of a tyrannical energy that went unchecked when the Dragon Elite were made useless.”
“Damn.” Sophia shook her head, overwhelmed by the new information.
“So you wanted Devon’s bow given to you so that you could destroy it?” Wilder questioned. “Why not just leave it at the bottom of the Pond?”
“Because it was time for us to meet,” Subner stated, turning his attention to Sophia. “And this was the force that would finally bring us together.”
She smiled. “I have a way. I also introduced him to King Rudolf.”
“Which is why the fae is currently getting a haircut,” Subner supplied. “Now, Sophia, you have the horn of the Phantom.”
She pulled the bag with the evil horn off her shoulder. “Yeah, does Papa Creola want it?”
“Yes, but I’ll take it. He’s busy fixing a rift in the space-time continuum.”
Wilder sighed dramatically. “That sounds like a typical Tuesday.”
“So, you already know that I was unsuccessful at bonding to Inexorabilis.” The regret began to pool in Sophia again.
“In fact, I do,” Subner stated.
“Maybe you want the sword, then?” she offered, pulling the elf-made sword from her belt.
Subner ran his eyes over the blade. “I would be most honored, but I can’t take it from you.”
“But it does me no good if I’m not bonded to it,” Sophia stated. “And I ruined that chance. I can’t go back and kill the Phantom again
.”
“No, and in all simulations of that event, you never kill the Phantom,” Subner offered. “It is always Wilder who does.”
Sophia shook her head. “You have simulations of events? That’s so odd.”
“That’s how time works and how we know what we do, which is relatively very little.”
Her eyes cut to Wilder. “I told you. It’s riddle world.”
“That it is,” he sang.
“So you sent me to kill, or re-kill, the Phantom, knowing that I’d be unsuccessful?” Sophia asked, growing frustrated.
“That I did,” Subner answered simply.
“But why? Just so Papa Creola could have the horn?”
“Partly,” Subner chirped.
“And so I could introduce you to Wilder, right?” Sophia couldn’t help but feel like a pawn.
The elf looked at Wilder. “What did Sophia say when you told her the horror she’d face to bond with her sword?”
“She didn’t back down from the challenge,” he answered at once.
“Well, I couldn’t,” Sophia argued.
Subner gave her a look. “You absolutely could have. I have an assortment of weapons I could have given you. Wilder offered to make you a weapon, which would have been of the finest quality.”
“It’s weird that you know I offered that,” Wilder said.
Sophia shook her head, still holding Inexorabilis. “No. I didn’t want a weapon from you, but thank you. And I didn’t want Wilder to make me one. I wanted to use my mother’s sword. I don’t have any memories of her. Liv has her ring, and Clark has her eyes. All I have is her sword, and I was going to be damned if I didn’t do everything I could to bond with the last thing she left on this Earth before she died.”
To Sophia’s surprise, Subner smiled. “And therein lies the key.”
In Sophia’s hands, Inexorabilis warmed. She didn’t drop the weapon even as it began to burn her palms. Her eyes simply widened as the blade glowed brightly, so much so that she had to look away. She felt the strangest energy wrap around her core, encircling her body and melting into her heart. When she brought her eyes back up, the blade was still glowing, but not as brightly. Instead, gold dust was radiating off the blade, trickling up her arms, and covering her chest.