The Creative Strategist

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The Creative Strategist Page 12

by Sarah Noffke


  “To stop you from wearing those shorts?” Liv asked, putting her hand to her forehead with relief. “Thank goodness. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I allowed you to wear something hippies made.”

  Mortimer laughed. “Already saving me. I had thought these were a bad choice but didn’t know for sure.” He snapped his fingers, and a much more modest pair of black shorts replaced what he had been wearing on his lower half.

  Liv was grateful she hadn’t offended the brownie with her joke. She definitely wasn’t in a position to give fashion advice, but she also knew that few should wear tie-dye. Really just those who worked in shops that sold crystals and hemp bracelets and children.

  “Pricilla is getting Ticker ready,” Mortimer informed her. “They will be here in just a minute.”

  Liv nodded, not connecting why he was telling her this. In truth, she hadn’t met the couple’s child yet, since the little brownie was always sleeping when she stopped by.

  “Now,” Mortimer said, piling supplies like books, binoculars, and beach towels into a bag. “I believe you are here to locate another Mortal Seven, is that correct?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Liv said, always grateful for how easy it was to work with Mortimer.

  “I think I’ve found the next one you should go after. She’s been attacked several times by a figure my brownies haven’t seen clearly, but thankfully has gotten away each time.”

  Liv sighed. “That’s good news, but I wonder who is going after the Mortal Seven?” she said, mostly to herself. Kayla Sinclair was gone. There was obviously someone else, but Liv had no clue who that could be, and discovering it right then would have to wait. She needed to find this specific Mortal Seven before it was too late.

  Still packing, Mortimer said, “I’m not sure. I wish I could help you. However, I can tell you the location of this particular Mortal Seven. She’s pretty fierce, though, so be careful. She might think you’re one of the bad guys trying to hurt her.”

  Liv nodded. “Good point. Thank you.”

  Mortimer patted his shirt pocket. “Now, what did I do with the Mortal Seven’s location? Oh, that’s right. Ticker has it.”

  Liv was about to ask why Mortimer would give that to his son when Pricilla entered with the little guy in tow. He was fairly cute, with a round face and elfin ears. On his head, he wore a hat with a long pointy end, like Santa Claus. Ticker had grown a lot and was actually half of Pricilla’s size, about a foot tall.

  Before Liv could protest, Pricilla placed the little guy in Liv’s hands. Her eyes widened, and she held the child out like he was a delicate heirloom.

  “Ummm…thanks?” Liv said, looking between Ticker’s smiling face and his mother’s.

  “Thank you,” Pricilla said. “You’re so kind to watch Ticker while we’re on vacation.”

  “Oh, right,” Liv said, remembering the strange agreement she’d unknowingly made with Mortimer at their last meeting.

  “Aren’t you worried about him being with me?” Liv asked. “I do have an important mission that I’m going on, and it can’t be delayed.”

  Pricilla waved her off. “Don’t be silly. You’re Warrior Beaufont for the House of Fourteen. He’s much safer with you than with us.”

  “I’m not sure about that. When I’m on a mission, it will be hard for me to watch the little tyke,” Liv argued, turning to Mortimer. “And like you said, someone is after this Mortal Seven. I wouldn’t want to put Ticker in danger.”

  He shook his head. “Whatever wants this Mortal Seven won’t care about my son. Remember that for most, we go unnoticed. Most magicians don’t even notice us. And I daresay Ticker might be of help to you.”

  “Yeah, he might,” Liv said carefully, still holding the child at arm’s length.

  “I know it will be a help to us,” Pricilla said, rubbing her stomach. “We could really use some alone time before the next baby comes.”

  Mortimer beamed at her. “Yes, thank you, Warrior Beaufont. There is no one else we’d trust with Ticker.”

  So no pressure, right? Liv thought, looking at the laughing child in her arms. Brownie children definitely matured faster than humans, since Ticker was only a few weeks old but appeared very coherent as he watched her.

  He thrust one of his fists forward, nearly punching Liv in the nose. In it was a roll of parchment. “Sortal Meven.”

  Liv smiled meekly at the child and took the scroll. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ticker hadn’t been nervous about stepping through the portal. Instead, he’d cheered the entire time, yelling, “Nortal Pow! Nortal Pow!”

  Liv felt like she needed to sit down with the little brownie at some point and explain language, but he actually seemed to be doing better than King Rudolf Sweetwater, so he was probably fine.

  Liv found it strange that she went from having Plato as a companion to an infant brownie. Life wasn’t ironic. It was as if the Big Magician in the sky was laughing at her. She thought he or she definitely was.

  After refashioning her cape into a carrier for Ticker, she dropped the little guy into it and tied him snugly to her back. He held onto her neck tightly as she strode forward, talking into her ears about the things he saw.

  “Wuy galking,” he said, pointing to a guy who was striding down the street.

  The guy, as Mortimer had mentioned, didn’t notice Ticker on her back. Apparently, even though mortals could see magic, brownies were still quite elusive since that was part of their job—to sweep in at night and clean up a house, going unnoticed. John had mentioned seeing the brownies that cleaned his shop, and even Ireland recalled noticing them a time or two in the bookstore. However, most mortals wouldn’t notice a brownie if they slapped them in the face with a dustpan, not that sweet little brownies would ever do such a thing.

  “Guy walking,” she corrected. “And I don’t think he’s anything to worry about.”

  “Hot nim,” Ticker whispered into her ear. “Gther oirl.”

  Liv halted, not seeing a girl, only a punk-looking kid with stark white hair, short on one side and long on the other. She glanced at the piece of parchment Mortimer had given her. It read:

  Cassie Luce

  Glenrowan, North East Victoria, Australia

  That was where she was, walking down what she guessed was the main street. However, Liv didn’t know where to look specifically for this Cassie Luce. She kept searching for a dog, a cat, or even a kangaroo who could be this Mortal Seven’s chimera.

  She spotted a few animals, but they didn’t fit the description Mortimer had given her for Cassie. If she was feisty, then her chimera should be too, or at least Liv thought so.

  Tourists, passing through off the Hume Freeway with tiny dogs didn’t seem like the feisty type. Old women walking chihuahuas were definitely not that type, she thought. And then there was a woman who had a boa constrictor hanging around her neck. That woman hadn’t given off a feisty vibe. Scary was more like it.

  A bug buzzed past Liv’s face, nearly making her jump back. She’d once heard that many of the most dangerous creatures in the world called Australia home. It was hard for her to believe she’d recently faced off with a three-headed dog, but something small with wings nearly made her jump out of her skin.

  “Thight rere,” Ticker said, pointing adamantly at a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties with long, silky brown hair and a careful smile that she flashed at passersby.

  Liv looked back at the brownie and then the mortal who seemed to notice him. She’d done a double-take upon seeing Liv. Now she was definitely staring, a studious expression on her face.

  “Excuse me, do you see him?” she dared to ask the girl, pointing to Ticker on her back, her hopes lifting that this might be her Mortal Seven. However, the woman didn’t have any pet that she could see, which wasn’t a good sign.

  The stranger searched Liv and then Ticker and shook her head, backing away. “I don’t know what you want. I can’t help you. I told your friend to leave me alon
e.”

  “Friend?” Liv asked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Just stop following me, or else!” the woman yelled.

  That seemed about right, based on everything Liv had learned about this Mortal Seven. She’d been hunted, so she’d be skittish. And if she could see Ticker, that meant she…

  “Look, do you see him?” Liv asked, indicating Ticker again. “I just need to know.”

  That apparently was the wrong approach.

  The mortal pulled back immediately, taking a fighting stance. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with your weird baby or your albino friend.”

  Albino friend? Liv wondered, all the information suddenly starting to compute. Kayla. The Sinclairs. The deception. Could it be possible? Was Kayla not dead? Or was there another Sinclair who had taken her place?

  “Hey, these people after you,” Liv said in a rush, “I can help you get away from them.”

  “No, we don’t need your help,” the woman said, backing away.

  “We?” Liv questioned, looking around. There were a few people standing on a porch beside a large statue of a bushranger covered in metal and holding a rifle, watching her. Ned Kelly, Liv thought, trying to remember her Australian history.

  “I’m here to help you,” Liv continued, reading the tension in the woman’s eyes.

  “Then why have you been trying to kill me?” she retorted.

  Before Liv could argue or unleash a spell on the woman to keep her from fleeing, she sprinted toward a nearby parking lot. The dust the woman kicked up as she ran made it hard to determine what she was doing. Liv only realized she’d jumped onto a dirt bike when it was too late.

  Throwing her foot down hard on the kickstand, the woman turned the throttle and took off. Her engine filling the air with noise as she sped down the road, leaving Liv gaping at the cloud of dust in her wake.

  “Sortal Meven.”

  Liv nodded. “Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”

  Chapter Thirty

  So someone had been stalking Cassie Luce and trying to kill her. That seemed about right, based on the other Mortal Sevens Liv had found. But what she couldn’t figure out was where the woman’s chimera was. Cassie hadn’t been trailed by a large dog or had a parrot hanging out on her shoulder.

  Maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe this woman wasn’t the Mortal Seven, and everything had been a coincidence? As the sound of the motorbike got fainter, Liv considered her options. The crowd on the porch was still watching her, but mostly their attention was on a horse trailer being unloaded. The most adorable miniature horses were proudly trotting out of the trailer. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a figure with an unmistakable appearance.

  Liv spun to find Kayla Sinclair racing for an open truck. Its owner appeared to have stepped out for a minute, leaving the engine running. With her white hair flying in the wind, the girl sprinted for the vehicle.

  Liv lifted her hand to throw a spell at Kayla and stop her progress, but she was already a step ahead. The evil Sinclair threw her hand over her shoulder as she slid into the truck and a bolt of red light flew in Liv’s direction.

  She wouldn’t have been able to avoid the attack and probably would have been blown off her feet. However, a wooden cart stationed nearby jumped in front of her, taking the brunt of the attack.

  Whipping her head around, she glanced at Ticker. “Was that you?”

  “Mes ye!” he exclaimed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, shielding her face and Ticker as wood debris flew overhead. She pointed her finger at the truck, but there were too many mortals close by who might get caught in the crossfire. She hesitated too long, giving Kayla a chance to turn the truck around, its owner yelling and racing out of a nearby store.

  Liv glanced around, considering her options. She pointed at the statue of Ned Kelly and muttered an incantation. The figure came alive suddenly, aiming its shotgun from way up high. He fired at the truck speeding away, making it swerve in the road as the bullets hit the back fender.

  Again he fired, but this time missed entirely.

  That hadn’t worked. Liv needed to chase her. Whether Kayla was following Cassie or an innocent person she thought was a Mortal Seven, Liv had to intervene. She couldn’t allow this woman to be hurt at the hands of another treacherous and greedy Sinclair.

  She looked around for another vehicle. The only one in sight was hitched to the horse truck, and standing around it, quite restless from the commotion, were a few of the adorable miniature horses.

  “I don’t think that will work,” Liv said. She was small, but not that small. Then, from behind the trailer marched a regal and gigantic Clydesdale.

  “Bingo!” Liv exclaimed.

  “Not name,” Ticker stated as Liv ran for the horse, which thankfully was tacked up for riding.

  “That was actually correct,” she called to the brownie. “And call the horse whatever you’d like. I’m calling it my getaway ride.”

  The ranchers unloading the miniature horses didn’t notice Liv until she’d jumped and thrown one leg over the side of the horse, grabbing the reins for support.

  “Hey! You can’t do that!” one of them yelled.

  “Sorry, I have to,” Liv replied, slapping the reins on its haunch and making the Clydesdale take off. “I’ll bring him right back. Promise.”

  The rancher slowed as the horse kicked up dust, making it impossible to follow. The horse was fast, but it couldn’t keep up with a truck. Thankfully, from the fluid on the ground, the vehicle appeared to have sprung a leak, making it easier to follow, and hopefully slowing it down at some point.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Cassie Luce zipped the motorbike her grandfather had given her around a sharp corner, taking a back road no one knew about. Just locals. She’d wanted to continue home, but didn’t want to lead those two deranged stalkers to her sanctuary.

  Ever since the disappearance of every single person in her family, Cassie hadn’t taken chances. Yes, she’d rather be sitting on her front porch, drinking a hot cup of cocoa, but long gone were the times she could afford such luxuries. For the last year, it had been only her and Freya. She didn’t know what had happened to her parents, her cousins, or her grandparents, but something told her that it had everything to do with the creeps following her presently.

  A screech of tires sent a wave of panic through her chest.

  She’d been followed.

  “Dammit!” she exclaimed, peeling around a bend and immediately taking the bike off-road, zigzagging through the overgrown forest. She stood now to soften the bumps of the uneven terrain, allowing the bike to take the impact.

  Cassie knew these trails better than anyone, having been raised out there in the bush. The house where she’d been born was only a ten-minute ride through the bush. Once she was sure she wasn’t being followed anymore, she’d hightail it in that direction. Tomorrow she’d pack and head out farther, leaving behind everything she’d ever known—at least for a little while.

  Her mother had talked about a place where the fairies guarded their family—The Luces. She’d told her to go there if things ever got too dangerous. That was right before she disappeared, the last remaining family member she had left.

  Cassie had always thought her mum was making up the stories about the fairies, but now she wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t deny all the other strange things she’d seen all her life: gnomes, giants, unicorns, and other strange creatures. Why couldn’t fairies be real? And if they were, she hoped with all her being that they really would protect her.

  She needed help. It had taken her this long to finally admit that. One could only go so long without sleeping properly, constantly running, checking over her shoulder and fighting to survive.

  Knowing that no one was ever on the road coming up ahead, Cassie yanked the handlebars to the side and turned onto the dirt road. Something thundered behind her, and she dared to look over her shoulder.

  The roa
d wasn’t abandoned as usual. Timothy Punter’s ute was speeding behind her, except he wasn’t driving it.

  The girl with the white hair was behind the wheel, her eyes crazed as she muttered like she was talking to herself. Not only could Cassie not lead this crazy person to her home, but she also had zero chance of getting away on the open road.

  Most would have thought the terrain in front of her all looked the same, but Cassie knew every tree and hill as if it were the markings on Freya’s wings. She had studied both for most of her life.

  When she passed the tree with a knobby bottom, she jerked the bike to the side, nearly wiping out. Thankfully, she’d done that so fast the ute didn’t have a chance to follow her onto the new road. However, a quick glance over her shoulder told her the lunatic was slowing down and turning around.

  Cassie was running out of options. The road she’d taken dead-ended up ahead. Worse than that, the forest around her was too thick for her to maneuver quickly on the bike. With the squeal of the engine and getting tangled up every few seconds, she’d be a sitting duck.

  What she needed to do was hide.

  Before the ute veered onto the road, following her, Cassie turned off the engine and walked the bike behind a cluster of trees. She covered it from view the best she could and ducked down behind it.

  Right on cue, Freya flew out of the compartment on the front that Cassie had built for her. The dragonfly buzzed around her head before hovering and landing on her knee. Freya’s black and white wings fluttered only once before going completely still as the sound of the ute’s tires crunching on gravel sounded just beside them.

  Cassie held her breath, counting back from ten. When she was to zero, she’d jump on her bike and go back the way she’d come. That might give her enough time to get away. By about that point, the crazy white-haired girl would have figured out it was a dead end and turned around again.

 

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