by Sarah Noffke
Thad sighed. This was happening more frequently as his plans progressed. The scientists and engineers were okay with the research and technology until they realized he was going to use them. It’s like they didn’t take it seriously, and thought it was all a hobby project.
Like most, they didn’t have the gall to do what needed to be done when the time came. Or maybe it was because people like Drake had a sentimental attachment to this place called Earth.
They wouldn’t if they knew what Thad did. None of it mattered. He’d lived five-hundred years and couldn’t find any true meaning in the world. Nothing made it better. What was the point in making things better anyway? Life was about taking. Getting. Having. Even after all that, it was pretty meaningless. He figured he’d be doing this planet the biggest favor by destroying it and the people on it since they mostly just complained and were leeches on the world.
Thad yanked up his arm, his suit jacket sleeve pulling down to reveal the device on his wrist. It didn’t tell time or make phone calls, but it did listen to his thoughts and respond with incredible accuracy. Magitech was brilliant, once the bugs were worked out.
A red dot appeared on the center of the face of the watch-looking device. It grew bigger as Thad turned and strode for the thick metal door on the far side of the room.
“Sir,” Drake called after him. “Are we done? Don’t you want me—”
“You’re done,” Thad said simply. He yanked the door open and stepped through to the other side. He didn’t offer Drake a last look before sealing the door into place, turning the latch and locking it shut.
A moment later, a detonation rocked the room he’d exited, killing anything inside. There had been only one person in there, and now Drake and his conscience weren’t a problem for Thad Reinhart.
He sighed as he realized he’d have a lot of paperwork, trying to find a replacement for Drake. Glancing up at the ceiling, Thad smiled to himself, glad he’d had the last scientist install small explosives that could be dropped down based on a single intention from Thad.
Of course, the CEO had to learn some restraint since it made getting rid of troublesome employees incredibly easy. Then Thad realized, just like any other time in his life, restraint wasn’t really all it was cracked up to be. Like in his days as a dragonrider, Thad gave in to his desire to do as he wished.
Hiker Wallace might think pillaging the world was a sin, but Thad didn’t believe such things—which had always been the rub between the two.
The time to settle their lifelong dispute was coming to a head. If Hiker loved this planet so much, then he could die for it. There would be little other option for him, Thad thought, appreciating that everything he’d worked for was finally coming together. Soon it would be time to exact the revenge he’d been planning all these centuries.
Chapter Three
“We wish you a Merry Christmas,” Sophia sang, swaying to the music in her head.
Hiker Wallace had his feet stretched out and his boots resting on the ottoman in front of the fire, the day’s newspaper spread open. “Bah, humbug.” He turned the page, not even glancing at Sophia when she twitched her mouth to the side.
“Rudolf, the red-nosed reindeer,” she began to sing.
He lowered the newspaper and blinked at her. “Reindeers are nasty creatures who leave their droppings all over the place. And they can’t fly.”
She sighed. “Fine, I don’t like that song anyway since it’s about how people bully the underdog until the moment they need them for something.”
Hiker tilted his head to the side and squinted at her like the light in the sitting room wasn’t bright enough. “You take quite the literal sense to these repugnant songs.”
Sophia sighed, slumping. “Seriously, why can’t we have Christmas at the Castle?”
“Because we’re dragonriders,” he answered at once. “We’re not little rosy-cheeked children with thoughts of sugar plums in our heads. Well, most of us aren’t. You are.”
“Just because we ride dragons and fight with swords doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a bit of Christmas cheer.”
Hiker straightened out his newspaper and tried to refocus on the print. “That’s exactly what it means.”
“I just don’t get why we can’t have a few decorations,” Sophia complained, indicating to the fireplace. “Just imagine how great the mantle would look adorned with stockings and greenery.”
The Castle, as it often did, indulged Sophia, attaching seven stockings of varying shapes and colors to the mantle and decorating the top of it with pine needles and red bows. Each of the stockings had the name of a resident in the Castle: Hiker, Mahkha, Evan, Wilder, Ainsley, Quiet, and of course, Sophia.
She smiled, enjoying the cheer the décor had instantly created.
Hiker grunted. “What are those?”
“Stockings. They are for our presents,” Sophia said, narrowing her eyes at Evan’s stocking. She slipped her hand into the long sock and pulled out a piece of coal. A laugh fell from her mouth.
Hiker nodded appreciatively. “At least the Castle got something right. Now go ahead and get rid of those.”
A second later, the stockings and decorations disappeared.
Sophia slumped again. They’d been going back and forth like this for the better part of an hour. The Castle would indulge her by throwing up a Christmas tree or garland, but as soon as Hiker told the Castle to take it down, everything disappeared. Apparently, even though the Castle tortured Hiker by taking his books and rearranging his office, it still thought of him as a boss and wouldn’t keep up anything Christmas related without his approval.
“How about just a small snow globe collection?” Sophia asked, her tone laced with persuasion.
On the side table at the frosty window, a set of varying sized snow globes appeared, flurries dancing around inside them like they’d just been shaken.
Hiker eyed them. “How about no?”
The snow globes vanished.
Sophia thought for a moment. “What about a bunch of Christmas dragons? We can have a little snow-covered village with dragons roasting chestnuts and keeping the villagers warm with towering bonfires.”
Right on cue, the miniature village Sophia described appeared on the side table, complete with a small version of Lunis and the other dragons wearing Santa hats.
A squeal of delight fell out of Sophia’s mouth as she admired the Castle’s work.
Hiker dropped the newspaper in his lap. “Seriously, can I get my books back?”
The Castle made zero replies to this request.
“Okay, but will you get rid of that monstrosity?” Hiker pointed at the little village, and it disappeared at once. He sat back in his armchair, looking mostly satisfied.
“It was adorable, not a monstrosity,” Sophia complained.
“Bell was wearing a fuzzy scarf,” Hiker spat.
“Well, maybe her neck gets cold,” Sophia reasoned.
“She’s an ancient dragon, who breathes fire and can waste an entire village if she so desired,” he fired back.
“Still, she might like a few accessories,” Sophia argued. “Have you asked her?”
“I’m not sure I’d survive the conversation.” Hiker pushed up to a standing position. “Shouldn’t you be training? I believe Mama Jamba said you getting your wings was of supreme importance.”
Sophia nodded. “Yeah, I was going to throw myself into it tomorrow.”
“Because today you have to thread popcorn and frolic in the snow, making a snowman?” Hiker asked.
“No point in making decorations you won’t let me keep up,” Sophia grumbled. “And if I made anything out of snow, it would be a Snow Viking, and then I’d pelt him with snowballs.”
Hiker looked down his nose at her and shook his head. “You realize I’m not a Viking, right?”
She shrugged. “If you say so. Maybe I just see you as one because of your temper.”
“Your training, Sophia…”
She nodded.
“Yes, I’m going to get to it, but I need to take the magitech Logan used on Lunis and me to Liv to see if she can offer insights.”
He rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Of course, because you’re obviously in charge and get to do whatever you want.”
“Oh, well, in that case, how about some candy canes—”
“It was a joke,” Hiker interrupted.
“Fine,” Sophia stated. “You don’t want me to try to get a lead on Thad Reinhart? Would you rather I stay and train and send one of the guys to research the magitech?”
Hiker seemed to think about this. “No, it needs to be you. They don’t know what they are doing with that stuff well enough. When you return, you’re going to need to focus on training full time.”
“I totally will,” Sophia said. “All the way up until Christmas dinner when Ainsley roasts us a special goose.”
“There will be no Christmas goose,” Hiker disagreed. He shook his head at her.
“Christmas Spam?” Sophia asked.
“I don’t know what that is, but the answer is still no,” Hiker answered. “We’ve never done Christmas in the Castle, and we’re not about to start. The sooner you get used to the idea, the better.”
“Because any cheer would hurt your cold, dark heart?” Sophia asked.
“Because we are dragonriders who train, eat, sleep, and arbitrate. We don’t sing carols and make Christmas lists.”
Sophia blew out a long breath. “Yeah, fine then. No Christmas spirit. No fun. Just a nonstop mission to save the world.”
She dragged herself toward the door.
“Is that a problem for you, Sophia?”
She turned and gave him a reluctant expression. “No, not at all, sir. Just thought it might be fun to do things a little differently.”
“We don’t do things differently, Sophia,” he stated. “We do them as we always have, and that keeps us alive.”
Sophia nodded. “Of course, sir. My apologies.” She pivoted and strode for the stairs, wondering why Hiker Wallace was simultaneously one of the best men she’d ever met and also a huge pain in the ass. She could never shake the feeling he was hiding something, but she knew if anyone was aware of his secrets, it was the sentient being all around her.
Chapter Four
Gliding her hand over the walls of the Castle, Sophia hummed to herself, noticing the artwork had changed. She wasn’t entirely sure how or why the Castle underwent interior design but suspected there were many factors involved.
The corridor had changed too. It was wider in places, narrower in others. There were windows where there hadn’t been any and a skylight. She was pretty sure there were several stories on top of this one, although it was hard to tell how many.
Ainsley swore there were at least five stories to the Castle. On one occasion, Sophia had found the fifth floor but had been unable to do it a second time. From the outside, there were only four stories. Apparently, there was a basement, but Sophia hadn’t found that either. She was pretty certain she’d barely scratched the surface of exploring the Castle.
Checking over her shoulder, Sophia ensured she was alone. The last thing she needed was Ainsley sneaking up on her and telling her what she was about to do was a bad idea. Maybe it was Sophia’s conscience more than anything else talking to her. Ainsley had warned her not to make a deal with the Castle, stating it wouldn’t live up to its end of the bargain. Sophia didn’t really know what other options she had.
She reasoned it was all about how she positioned things. Clark often said it was more about how things were said, rather than the actual words used. Most people implied meaning if things were kept brief. Still, outsmarting the Castle was a tall order, especially because she sensed the words used would be limited. This meant Sophia needed to think the right thoughts—which seemed a bit more complex than negotiating using words.
“So….” Sophia began.
In response, the Castle walls warmed under her fingertips. She halted when she noticed the flames in the chandeliers overhead grow brighter. “Do you know what I want?”
Sophia figured she could launch into an explanation, but what was the point? The Castle was clued into everyone’s head some way or another. She hadn’t figured out how to keep it out or had a good enough reason to do so. Maybe if she was Hiker and hiding things, like the fact Thad Reinhart was once a dragonrider, then she’d have a reason to do so. However, so far, having the Castle in her head only ensured most of her desires were met and things prepared for her well before she anticipated needing them.
It was like staying at a five-star resort when she got out of the shower to a fresh, warmed towel. Or when she found her bed turned down at night, the specific types of books she wanted to read just under her pillow. The Castle had served up hardcover books on those occasions, not making her use a Kindle to read like it was trying to force Hiker to do. That made her hopeful for the request currently sitting on the top of her mind.
“So, what do you want in exchange for The Complete History of Dragonriders?” Sophia asked aloud. There, she’d said it. She was offering an exchange. She’d do something for the Castle if it gave her something. She’d just have to figure out how to shake on it, which seemed complex when talking about making a deal with a building rather than a person.
A window ahead in the hallway glowed, and Sophia picked up her pace. She halted in front of the glass. It was distorted in places with bubbles and thicker parts like most of the glass in the Castle.
At first, she tried to squint through the windowpane, but then it began to fog up like someone was breathing on it. She realized the Castle wasn’t trying to show her something out on the Expanse, as she’d expected.
Once a thick coating of condensation had fogged up the glass, an invisible force began to draw in the residue, creating a picture Sophia quickly recognized.
“That’s the House of Fourteen,” she said aloud, identifying the intricate design of the layered house being depicted like an architectural building cut away to see the inside.
It was the only way she would know the structure anyway, since it appeared like a modest, closed down palm reading shop from the outside. The Castle showed the House as she was used to seeing it in her mind, which made sense to her since it was how it had known about the place where she’d grown up. She clearly saw the many levels with the residential wings and the library, which was vast.
“You want something from the House of Fourteen?” Sophia guessed, watching as the Castle continued to etch more details, seemingly making a masterpiece before her very eyes.
At her back, a creaking sound stole her attention. Thinking Ainsley had snuck up on her, Sophia spun around to find a slender door opening at her back.
She tensed and squinted at the darkness on the other side of the door as it opened. Sophia glanced tentatively at the picture of the House of Fourteen, watching as the light illuminating the window dulled. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed light began to fill the small door.
Not remembering seeing the door before, Sophia took careful steps in its direction. When she peeked in, she was surprised by what she found. It was a plain closet cramped with hanging clothes and boxes.
Sophia yanked her head out and glanced at the window. The drawing had disappeared. She turned back to the closet, trying to put it all together.
“You want me to find a closet in the House of Fourteen?” she asked.
The flames of the candles lining the hallway grew in intensity. It seemed like a yes from the Castle.
“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. “Can you be more specific and tell me which one?”
The flames all shrunk in response.
Sophia’s shoulders slumped. “That’s your way of saying no, isn’t it?”
Again, the candle lights flared.
She sighed. “Great, we understand each other. There are probably a few hundred closets in the House of Fourteen. It’s hard to know. I’ve hardly visited many of the apartments, and most are o
ff-limits to anyone who doesn’t live there.”
The candle lights remained unchanged.
“So, you don’t have any tips on which closet you want me to find in the House of Fourteen?” Sophia asked, turning her attention to the window, hoping another picture would appear.
Nothing happened.
“So, I’m supposed to search the House of Fourteen for a specific closet?” she questioned.
The flames grew an inch.
Sophia nodded. That was progress, at least. “And how do I know when I find the right closet?”
No response.
“Okay,” Sophia muttered. “And any indication of what I’m supposed to do when I find this mystery closet?”
She knew these open-ended questions weren’t going to work. The Castle was mostly answering yes and no, but she had to try. It had painted her a picture on the glass, so she was staying hopeful.
“Fine, you want me to search the House of Fourteen for a closet,” Sophia began. “I suspect I’ll know it when I find it, is that right?”
The candles flared.
Sophia nodded. “And I’m guessing I’ll also know what to do when I find this closet.”
Again, the flames grew in intensity.
“Great,” Sophia said mostly to herself. “And you promise when I find this closet and do whatever you want, you’ll give me The Complete History of Dragonriders?”
There was a delay which made Sophia hold her breath. Just when she was about to complain, the candle flames all brightened more than before. Sophia squinted from the sudden brightness.
Sophia let out a long breath, feeling strangely victorious, although she realized she had quite the task ahead of her. The House of Fourteen was as convoluted as the Castle, constantly changing, with many locked doors. Exploring it would be a challenge. Finding this mysterious closet? Well, that would be interesting, to say the least. More intriguing was what the closet was for and why the Castle wanted her to find it.
She sighed. If it got her The Complete History of Dragonriders, she was hopeful it was worth her time. For some reason, Sophia believed the text held answers only a few knew, and one man was definitely hiding.
