Magitech Rises (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 3)

by Sarah Noffke

  The records say the family left for Europe, though, Sophia mused.

  But no one has seen any of the Peters since, Lunis argued. And soon after, the property flooded and since has been unusable.

  So, what are you getting at? Sophia asked him.

  The house is obviously haunted, he explained.

  Just then, Sophia felt an icy wind coast over her shoulder, tangling her hair around her face. Haunted, but ghosts can’t hurt me, right? she asked.

  It depends, Lunis answered. If they are really emotionally charged, they absolutely could.

  Like they lost it all in bad investments and murdered their family, she asked.

  I’m not going to pretend to know what Luther Peters did, but that’s pretty much the commentary I read between the lines from the history records, Lunis stated.

  Cool, Sophia said, pretending to be casual. I’ll just waltz into this house and grab the book. I’m sure Murderer Ghost Man won’t mind.

  Maybe he won’t even be home, Lunis offered.

  Yeah, maybe he popped down to the store for ghost supplies, Sophia interjected.

  The wind howled over the marsh, making the surface of the water ripple.

  Soph, Lunis said after a moment of silence.

  Yes, she answered.

  Ghosts don’t need supplies.

  She sighed. Thanks. I sort of knew that.

  Do you want me to come over there for backup? he asked.

  Sophia shook her head, studying the house as the sunlight waned. The timing of entering the haunted house couldn’t be any better, and by better, she meant worse. Soon it would be dark with no lights. They were miles from anyone or anything except trees and swamp.

  Thanks, Lunis, she answered. However, you can’t fit into that house, and I’m not sure what you can do to help. Being in my head is about the best thing.

  Well, I’m definitely here for you, Lunis consoled. Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere.

  Sophia smiled, grateful wherever she was, she always had Lunis, no matter what.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wading through the ankle-deep water took a little longer than Sophia had expected because of the mud and the many squirming things that slithered around her feet.

  You’ve literally fought evil unicorns and battled magical robots, Lunis teased. But you’re scared about some tiny snakes.

  You didn’t see that snake, Sophia argued. It had black eyes and no soul.

  They are more scared of you than you are of them, Lunis offered.

  Not that one, she stated. It wanted to eat me. Thanks to a handy dandy spell, it is now in snake heaven.

  I don’t think snakes go to heaven, Lunis joked.

  Because they are soulless? Sophia asked.

  Because they are snakes and snakes would totally mess up heaven for the masses, he answered. Could you imagine sitting up on a cloud, enjoying your free Wi-Fi, and all of a sudden, a snake slithers over and curls up at your feet? That would totally ruin the experience.

  You need to get out more, Sophia said as she climbed the stairs to the large plantation house, grateful to have her boots on a solid surface not covered in water.

  Yo—don—kno—

  What? Sophia asked, halting a few feet from the door.

  Yo—break—up, Lunis said in abbreviated words.

  Lunis, I can’t hear you, Sophia said, her breath growing faster.

  The ghost… he said, the rest of his words falling away.

  What about the ghost? she asked, panicked. The last time her connection with Lunis had been severed, it had broken her heart. She didn’t want anything like that to happen again.

  Soph. Lunis broke through, his voice clear and loud in her head. I think the cosmic field created by Luther Peters is breaking into our psychic connection. I can’t keep this up much longer. You’ll have to go in without me.

  But Lunis!

  I know, he said, empathy in his voice. You can do this. I can see everything you can. I’m here, even if you can’t hear me. You aren’t alone. You will get in there and get out with the book.

  Sophia nodded and looked at the large door in front of her. A hogshead on the front with a ring through the nose was the knocker. She wasn’t planning on knocking.

  Okay, I’ll be home soon, Lunis, Sophia said, taking a step forward.

  Good, he said. And just remember the one thing you must never do in the presence of an angry ghost.

  She froze. Wait, I don’t know what that is. Tell me!

  You must never—

  Lunis, Sophia exclaimed in her head. You cut out. I must never what?

  Her head was silent except for her own racing thoughts. She stood frozen on the large porch for a full minute, waiting for Lunis to chime in her head again, but his voice never came, and Sophia knew she was alone and on her own.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I must never what, Sophia worried as she pressed down on the handle for the Peters’ front door.

  It was locked.

  She had no idea what Lunis was going to tell her or what she must never do in the presence of ghosts. There was an obvious gap in her education when it came to spirits. She knew they were mostly harmless, but Lunis was right. If they were emotionally charged, they could be extremely dangerous, controlling power fields and all sorts of energy. The fact Luther Peter’s energy broke through her connection to Lunis made Sophia really worried.

  Still, there was nothing more important to her than her family. She needed to get the book. For Liv. For Clark. For her. Sophia wasn’t backing down from this challenge even though it had gotten complicated.

  She held up her hand and flicked her wrist, unlocking the door with a simple spell.

  Okay, these ghosts couldn’t keep her out. That was a good sign. Maybe they weren’t so powerful.

  She pushed back the door, peeking her head through and finding a long hallway cluttered with broken furniture. It definitely appeared like a struggle had happened in the Peters’ house before it was locked up.

  An object soared straight at her head, and Sophia ducked just as it crashed into the open door. Glass shattered and rained down on her. She covered her head and darted into the house, even though she thought running outside was the smarter option.

  Without anything to hide behind and finding herself in the corner of the large entryway, Sophia searched the space. The hallway was punctuated with a grand staircase split in two at the landing, which went off in different directions, creating a balcony on the second floor overlooking the entryway. She could see a hint of the dining hall and living areas past the staircase.

  It made the most sense to Sophia that her father’s desk would be in a study, which should be on the first floor with the common areas. She pressed her back against the wall and sidestepped, looking for flying objects being launched at her head and still wondering what Lunis was trying to tell her. What was it she must not do in the presence of a ghost?

  Maybe I shouldn’t blink, she thought, her eyes adjusting to the dark. There was a strange bluish light radiating from an unknown source somewhere that allowed her to make out some details.

  A sawing noise made Sophia tense as she neared the first archway.

  Maybe I should breathe, she thought, realizing she was lightheaded from not taking in any air.

  The sawing grew louder.

  Maybe I shouldn’t let the ghost see my fear, Sophia thought. She was visibly shaking.

  At the entrance to the next room where the sawing sound was coming from, Sophia braced herself. Sucking in a breath, she peeked around the corner and saw something that filled her with rampant fear.

  She bit her tongue. Nearly screamed. Froze.

  So much for not feeling fear, she thought as she witnessed a pale blue ghost of a teenage boy sawing through his arm, which was chained to the wall.

  His gaze jerked to Sophia, eyes full of fright. “No magic can open the lock. I’ve tried. The only way to free myself before the flood drowns me is to cut mysel
f.”

  Sophia covered her mouth and watched as the boy continued to saw, pain covering his face. He wailed, filling her ears with a sound she’d never forget.

  “Papa, why?” the boy screamed, continuing to saw through his arm. “Why, Papa?”

  Sophia wanted to run to the boy. Make him stop. Tell him he didn’t have to relive this nightmare over and over again. Then a vase soared at her head. Her dragon enhanced reflexes caught the image in her peripheral vision just in time, causing her to duck into the room with the tortured boy to avoid getting hit.

  There was another exit on the adjacent wall. Sophia kept her eyes from the bluish figure of the boy, realizing he was giving off the light that allowed her to see.

  Although her instinct told her she needed to save this ghost, she knew doing it directly wasn’t the answer. She needed to find the source.

  Loud footsteps overhead stole her attention.

  For some reason, she knew they belonged to Luther Peters.

  Sophia peeked around the corner to the next room.

  There it was—her father’s desk.

  She wasn’t sure how she knew it was Theodore Beaufont’s desk, except something deep in her felt connected to it. Sophia had the urge to run to the desk, pull open the drawer, and grab his book.

  As the footsteps echoed overhead, she knew she couldn’t do it.

  There was another mission here that deserved her attention.

  You’re a dragonrider, she told herself. You fix the world. You solve problems. You free those who need help.

  Sophia allowed herself to turn back and peer at the boy who was desperately cutting his own arm off to escape the floodwaters. Whoever he was, he deserved to be freed. All of the Peters did, she thought as she retreated the way she’d come, back toward where the stairs led to the second floor—which was no doubt full of more horrors.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sophia didn’t know what she was going to do to fix the Peters. She knew she couldn’t rush away from this place and allow the horrors to continue to play out day after day. What could be worse for souls than to relive the worst possible moments of their lives?

  She thought she was prepared to climb the stairs. Prepared to find whatever was creating the stomping noise. As she ascended, a woman’s body raced toward her, tumbling head over feet as if she’d been pushed. Sophia didn’t dart out of the way in time, and when the ghost raced through her, she felt a chill unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It was as if her core had been frozen and would never be warm again.

  She jumped to the side as the ghost tumbled to the landing at the bottom of the stairs. The woman’s head rested at an unnatural angle, her arms and legs contorted as her eyes stood wide open.

  Sophia forced herself to pull her gaze away from the horrific sight and to the top of the stairs. It was then she met Luther Peters and wished she hadn’t. Wished she’d grabbed her father’s book and run. Wished she’d never entered the Peters’ house.

  Luther was dressed in a starched suit, his hand resting on the railing as he peered down at her with a hollow expression in his dark eyes.

  Sophia finally understood what it meant to have her blood run cold. She shivered as the figure of Luther Peters casually ambled off, as if he were leading her in a new direction.

  Again she could have run. She could have gotten the book and abandoned this haunted house.

  Instead, Sophia lifted her foot and forced herself to climb the stairs to follow the murderer who resided somewhere on the second floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A dozen books were launched at Sophia’s head. They ricocheted off the shelves lining the wall when she made it to the top of the stairs. This time instead of ducking, she shot each one like she was holding a gun, knocking them to the ground one after the other.

  When she’d shot down the last book, she studied the landing on the second floor. There was a doorway off to the left, illuminated by blue light. The others were dark.

  That must be where Luther was, Sophia thought, drawing in a breath.

  She took a step in that direction and the floor vibrated under her feet, followed by a thundering sound.

  Sophia paused, held her breath, and listened.

  She heard terse muttering. It echoed through her head like it was on surround sound. Pressing her hands to her ears, she thought she’d go deaf from the incessant babbling trying to take over her thoughts.

  Soldiering on, Sophia pushed forward. It felt like she was moving through mud to get to the room where Luther Peters must be. It was as if the sound were a thick fog that was hard to cross.

  Sophia forced herself to take each deliberate step, knowing she couldn’t give up after coming this far. She didn’t know what she’d find the murderous ghost doing. Worse, she still didn’t know what Lunis was trying to tell her to do. All she knew was that she had her instinct.

  And you have me, Love Bug, a voice said in her head.

  Sophia halted. Tensed. Listened, waiting for the voice to come back.

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but she’d heard the name it used before. Reese had said it to her often, but only when referring to their father.

  “Daddy used to say you’d be the one to save our family, Love Bug,” her sister would say while teaching her spells she should have never learned.

  “The day you were born,” Reese recounted one sunny afternoon from the conservatory in the House of Fourteen, “Daddy rushed in and said, my little Lady Bug is beautiful. Come and meet the newest member of our family.”

  “Love Bug” was the name Theodore Beaufont had affectionately called his daughter Sophia. She didn’t remember it, but others had told her. Maybe in the recesses of her memory, she had glimpses of the blond-haired, blue eyed Councilor for the House of Fourteen, holding her baby hands and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Love Bug. I can’t wait to take you on adventures.”

  Sophia sucked in a breath, grieving for the moments she never had with the man she never really met. She’d never pitied herself for not knowing her parents, but at that moment, hearing his voice, she understood the grief she’d always witnessed in her sibling’s eyes.

  Suddenly she knew why Liv often cried herself to sleep. Or why Clark awoke in the morning appearing vacant, seeming lost like he was looking for someone. Her siblings had intimately known Guinevere and Theodore Beaufont—their parents.

  Sophia had always counted herself lucky she hadn’t fallen in love with the people who haunted her siblings, but right then, more than anything, she wanted to have a memory of these people the ones she loved desperately.

  “There were no better people in this world than our parents,” Ian had once told her. “They did what no one had the courage to do and loved fiercely, without abandonment. If you were lucky enough to catch their eyes, then you felt their warmth, their acceptance, their unwavering affection.”

  Sophia choked suddenly on tears she hadn’t even realized were surfacing. She searched for Luther Peters, worried he was about to launch more books at her. She searched for her father, sure he was there somewhere. Was he a ghost too, like the others? There were so many questions and no time to answer them as the thundering from the adjacent room vibrated the floor and wall.

  The next convulsion nearly sent Sophia to the floor. She bumped into the nearby wall, bracing herself as screams echoed from the room where she knew Luther Peters had to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The ragged breaths running through Sophia’s lungs were unfulfilling.

  She didn’t care. It was time to face the demented ghost of a monster.

  Sophia knew in battle, it was important to have a plan. She didn’t have one, and oddly, she was okay with that.

  Throwing caution to all her teachings, she swung into the next room and stood squarely in the threshold of the room, wanting to have the element of surprise.

  A dozen knives and swords soared in her direction at once. Sophia allowed her feet to drop out from under h
er and fell flat to the floor as the blades roared overhead, hitting the wall behind her and sticking in like darts.

  She peeled her face up and looked up at the image of the ghost standing in the room in front of her.

  Luther Peters stomped on a pile of paper as if he didn’t see her. “I’m ruined! I’ve lost it all! We’re done!”

  He continued to dance angrily over the bits of paper, shredding them to pieces.

  Sophia caught the sound of rushing water down below on the first floor. She dared to duck out of the room she’d just entered and spied the blades that had nearly killed her sticking out of the wall. A brief glimpse over the side of the balcony told her what the water was all about. The flood from the past was starting, the one that drowned the boy who didn’t successfully cut off his arm. The one that covered Luther Peters’ wife’s body after he threw her down the stairs. The one that still covered most of the property and made it unusable.

  Sophia shook her head, not knowing how to fix this problem, but knowing she had to. She quickly retreated back to where she found Luther Peters, her instinct leading the way.

  At the entrance to his bedroom, she tensed as she found him holding a gun to his head.

  “Stop!” Sophia yelled, not knowing why, but feeling it was the only thing right to say.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The ghost of Luther Peters halted. He turned his head and looked at Sophia.

  She wondered if ghosts could see her and realized he could, at least. That might mean she was screwed.

  He blinked at her, cold soberness in his eyes as he regarded her with confusion.

  “Why?” His voice came out like a vibration from a stringed instrument.

  Sophia looked around the bedroom, searching for clues. She didn’t know why he shouldn’t kill himself or why she should stop him from being the murderer he was. She felt she should try.