by Sarah Noffke
Sophia settled on the ground. “Mama Jamba sent you out here because you’ve got to face Thad and don’t know how?”
“Correct,” he agreed. “I’ve never known how, but we always have an opportunity to become better than we were. To figure out the things that eluded us. But we have to do the work for it. Usually, that involves going within and finding our connection to the universe. It is there the answers are born.”
“So, it’s kind of like the whole idea that we’re not in the universe, the universe is within us,” Sophia stated.
He nodded, his hands casually resting on his knees, back straight and face calm. “Your experience meditating will be unique to you and what you need to know. I will offer this bit of advice: to connect with yourself, you must first connect with the world around you. Falconer Cave is ideal because it is isolated from everything around it, it is anomaly unique on the outside and bare on the inside.”
“Okay,” Sophia said, drawing out the word. “When do I know I’ve achieved the training goal?”
“You will know,” he said simply.
“Will you stop inundating me with information,” she joked.
Hiker closed his eyes. “Do you hear that?”
Sophia paused. Listened. “What? I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly,” he said. “When you hear the voices of the angels and all their messages, that’s when you’re done. When you no longer have questions and intuitively know answers to things yet to be asked, you’re done. When you can hear the spirit of the universe within you, you can go.”
Chapter One Hundred Nine
Sophia didn’t think she could simply pretend she’d heard the voices of the angels and pop out of the cave early. She’d meditated a time or two, but she’d never gotten much out of it besides a nap.
This was the strangest training exercise. How was she supposed to connect with herself or the universe? And how would she know when she’d achieved it? Would the messages from the angels sound different from the ramblings in her head?
Hiker seemed to think Sophia would have an easy time with this, which was why he had thrown her supplies out. After the long hike, she wished she had some water. Or a protein bar. Or a bed.
Her mind began to wander, combing over what she needed to do later. Then it drifted to all the chaos going on all over the world as a result of Thad Reinhart’s planning. She hadn’t been on any adjudicator missions in a while. That worried her. But she’d been busy with training and before that finding The Complete History of Dragonriders.
There was nothing like seeing the gold dust over an agreement struck between two parties who were once opposed, she thought, her mind quickly jumping around. After a long while of this, Sophia realized how loud her thoughts were, as if the cave was amplifying them. They were inundating and seemingly unending, one thought leading to another and then another.
Taking a breath, she tried to stop her thoughts, which were like a contagious disease, spreading fast. It seemed strange to stop thinking. That seemed as easy as stopping breathing.
It was breathing that helped the most. When she focused on her breath, the thoughts slowed down and became less intense. After a bit, Sophia noticed her breath had elongated and her thoughts had followed suit, passing through her brain slowly and then drifting away. Whereas before she had judged every thought as good or bad, soon she found she was simply an observer, taking notice of the ideas without coloring them one way or another.
Soon her focus shifted to the area around her in the cave. She felt outside of herself in a very distinctive way. The temperature, she knew without knowing how, was exactly fifty degrees. There were sixteen different species that called Falconer Cave home. Of those, three were magical and unclassified, one of which was presently crawling on Sophia’s boot.
She didn’t feel the little creature but instinctively knew it was there. Usually, she would have jumped up and brushed the bug off. However, Sophia didn’t even think of it as something else on her. She was the bug, and the bug was her. They were the cave, and the cave was them. They were the Gullington, and the Gullington was them. They were Scotland, and Scotland was them. They were the universe, and the universe was them.
These observations were followed by a strange silence that seemed to stretch on for eternity. It was this silence that had preceded Mother Nature and spawned a creature so powerful she could construct a world that was strong and also vulnerable. It was this silence that had filled the void before time was created. Before Papa Creola constructed how events moved on a continuum. The silence was the beginning, and it was everywhere still.
Sophia didn’t know how long she sat in the cave, witnessing the birth of the universe in her mind. It could have been a minute or a hundred years. If it had been more than a day, she didn’t feel hungry or tired or thirsty. She had hooked into the nourishment of the universe, and she realized as long as she was connected, all her needs were fulfilled.
From that place, Sophia knew she could heal the world’s problem. She could erase the pain. She could become whatever she wanted. The idea of never leaving Falconer Cave was very tempting. She could fix everything just by maintaining her connection to the all-powerful source.
There were things she’d miss. Her friends growing old. Her family loving her. The opportunity to see tragedy and heroically risk everything for justice.
Yes, there were problems in the world she could mend in Falconer Cave with her mind, but it didn’t mean she should. Being out in the world as a player on the chessboard was more important. Interacting with other players was part of a valuable experience for Sophia and for them.
Being a part of the world is more important than fixing it, she realized. A perfect world was never the point.
Sophia’s eyes sprang open, and she knew instinctively she’d arrived where she needed to be. Her training in Falconer Cave was done. The angels had spoken to her, and they’d said, “You in an imperfect world is better than a perfect world without you. Wake up, our love. Go out and spawn a new age, Sophia Beaufont the Great.”
Chapter One Hundred Ten
Hiker wasn’t in Falconer Cave when Sophia opened her eyes. The sun was streaming through the opening when she rose, but she didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been years for all she knew.
Upon exiting the cave, she found Hiker leaning against the outside wall with his foot up behind him. Bell and Lunis were in the distance, resting in the grass.
He eyed his watch when he saw her and nodded. “As I suspected. That’s a new record.”
“How long was I in there?” Sophia asked. “Did I exceed Evan’s twelve weeks, or however long it took him to phone the angels?”
He shook his head. “No, you just made the record for the shortest amount of time.”
“What?” she asked, surprised.
“It took you just a wee bit over an hour,” Hiker explained, glancing at the Expanse where the dragons lay. Lunis was gesturing in playful ways, and Bell was doing her best to ignore him.
“Why do you think that is?” Sophia asked, sincerely wanting an answer to why she excelled. It all felt like a trick. Like false confidence she didn’t want to fall for.
“I think a lot of it has to do with the fact you’re a twin and he’s dead,” Hiker began. “I know that doesn’t make you feel better because losing a twin, even if you didn’t know him, is still tragic in its own way. The angels say twins are forever connected and share a unique power. But his death did grant you benefits to your magic.”
Sophia nodded. She didn’t mind that as an explanation so much. It wasn’t something she controlled, though. In a way, she’d prefer to be as successful as she was because she worked hard for it and not because she inherited Jamison’s power.
“But also,” Hiker continued. “I think your gender grants you a unique perspective. As dragonriders and men, we do things a certain way. We always have. We rush into battle. Our instinct is to fight. Often the chi of the dragon takes us over, bringin
g out our aggression and ruling over us if we’re not careful. But women are quite different. Your nature is to nurture, to create, to mend and gather. I think that’s why you consider solutions to your problems that never occur to us.”
Sophia nodded again, chewing her lip. Once more, this made sense, but it also attributed her success to a factor she didn’t control. Her success being tied to her gender didn’t make her feel any better.
“Then there’s the fact that you’re the first female dragonrider,” Hiker went on. “I mistakenly believed you were elected to this position because you inherited your twin’s power early, making you an exceptional magician. However, the angels have shown me something different.”
“In your mediation just now?” she asked.
He nodded. “You’re not the first magician to have their twin die at birth and receive their powers from the beginning. There are many records of this since it’s a point of interest. The incredible, from an early age, have notoriously done one thing.”
He paused, almost like he was begging her to urge him to continue.
After a moment, Hiker cleared his throat. “There’s a reason children don’t have magic. There’s a reason education usually precedes the onset of magical abilities after the start of puberty. Magic held by children turns into instant gratification. In essence, it corrupts.” He shook his head. “But we always have a choice, even as children. It’s like when the universe presents different signs to you. Many think the signs are directing their path, but they’re wrong. It’s the ones you endorse, the ones you want to come true, that creates the path. You might be powerful because of something you don’t control. You might be unique as a dragonrider because of your gender. But you’re inevitably successful because of who you are and the choices you make. Sophia, you are good through and through, and the only one the angels have met who wasn’t ruined by magic given at an early age.”
Sophia blinked at him, utterly confused. “Your meditation was about me?”
He pursed his lips, seeming to share her confusion. “Yes, I was seeking solutions to how to deal with my own twin, and I received information about you. Who knows why, but I can’t question the methods of the angels. They are never wrong.”
“Okay,” she said, continuing to chew her lip as she tried to absorb everything Hiker had shared. Sophia remembered being young and knowing she could have anything she wanted because of her magic—and she remembered knowing that if something didn’t belong to her or it was wrong, it wasn’t worth having. From the beginning, Sophia hadn’t refrained from doing things out of fear of punishment. She’d refrained because being good felt good, and feeling good was what it was about for everyone at the end of the day.
“Oh, and Sophia?” Hiker resumed, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Yes, sir?” she answered.
“The angels also told me you’re exceptional because you are the first female rider,” Hiker explained. “Just as Alexander Conerly, the very first dragonrider, was exceptional. That’s how the angels intended it because we are the adjudicators for this world. We serve Mother Nature. We are supposed to be a force. The first of something must always be great, so others follow them. They make history and a name for themselves and that which they represent. So there you go—you’re successful because you’re a twin, you’re a female, and you’re the first. But also, and most importantly, remember you are successful because of what you choose.”
He sighed and looked at the dragons. “My only regret at this point is the age of the dragons and their riders are dying. I would have liked to have seen a world with more female dragonriders. Maybe a year ago, I wouldn’t have, but you’ve changed that. I think you provide a balance we desperately need, but alas, we are nearing our end.”
Sophia found it hard to swallow. “Don’t give up, sir. We never know how the universe will provide solutions.” She glanced back at Falconer Cave, warmth spreading through her abdomen. “And although the angels didn’t tell you how to defeat Thad, maybe they gave you a new motivation to do so.”
Chapter One Hundred Eleven
When they returned to the Castle, Mama Jamba was curled up on the couch in Hiker’s office, watching the movie Beaches, tears flowing down her face.
“Mama, why are you torturing yourself like this?” Hiker asked, shaking his head as he stomped into his study.
She sniffed. “Because if I’m going to be sad, then at least I’ll be entertained. I could watch the news you have broadcasting and be sad about what’s happening to my planet, but that’s not what I want to do.”
Hiker picked up the top newspaper from the stack on his desk that had just been delivered to his office via Ainsley. He shook his head. “It’s getting worse. Countries are battling, threatening one another with deadly force and weapons of mass destruction.”
“Oh, and the Golden Globes are coming up according to one of the articles in the LA Times,” Ainsley said as she cleaned up all the used tissues scattered around Mama Jamba. She looked up at Sophia. “What are the Golden Globes?”
Sophia waved her off. “Nothing of interest.”
Ainsley nodded dutifully and continued to pick up.
“How is it that one man could cause such global discord?” Sophia asked.
Hiker shook his head. “Thad has a lot of power and skill. If he ever committed to using it for good, he could have done great things. But that was never his way.”
“Hiker, you look a hundred years younger,” Ainsley observed. “Have you been using that face cream in S. Beaufont’s room too?”
Sophia glanced abruptly at the housekeeper. “Is that where my lotion keeps going?”
The shapeshifter nodded, no guilt on her face. “Oh, yes. Quiet likes it too. Although he uses it mostly on his feet.”
Sophia grimaced, hoping the gnome washed his hands before dipping into her lotion. “Is there no privacy in this place?”
“Of course, there is,” Ainsley commented. “Oh, and by the way, you’ve been talking in your sleep a lot S. Apparently, you have a crush on a Scotsman, but I can’t figure out any more than that. Can you talk a bit clearer in the future?”
Sophia’s eyes fluttered with annoyance. “I do not have a crush. I have a bunch of dirty Scotsmen around me who burp at the dining table and chew with their mouths open, which is why they invade my dreams. My subconscious is obviously trying to work through the frustration the only way it knows how. And would you kindly not watch me when I sleep?”
Ainsley held up her hands as if in surrender. “Don’t watch you when you sleep. Don’t drug your food. Stop using your clothes to dust the rafters. You always have so many rules, S. Beaufont. But fine, I’ll try and mind your privacy. No promises, though.”
Mama Jamba wailed as she focused on the television. “Oh, Bette Midler is just brilliant in this movie. What is she doing these days, I wonder?”
“Mama, don’t you think there’s anything else you could direct your attention to?” Hiker asked, irritation in his tone. “You do remember war is brewing all over your planet, right?”
The old woman looked up briefly, seemingly stuck in a daze. “That’s a great idea. I should pay Papa Creola a visit.”
“Do you think he can help us?” Hiker asked, hope in his voice.
She shrugged. “Who knows, but I’m thinking of asking him to extend Bette’s timeline. That way, she has more time to do great things.”
Hiker threw the newspaper on his desk. “Am I the only sane one here?”
“If you are, then we’re all in trouble because you lost your marbles a long time ago,” Ainsley said. “And again, why do you look good enough to snog?”
Hiker gave her a repulsed expression. “Would you mind your tongue?”
She giggled. “Not by me. Maybe by Bell or Quiet. Or Evan. He’s been wanting to lay a sloppy one on you for ages. I’ve heard him say it in his sleep.”
“Evan is simply trying to suck up to authority,” Mama Jamba supplied. “He will outgrow it in a few hundred
years. Hiker is looking refreshed because I sent him to Falconer Cave.”
“Oh, a good mediation is really great for the complexion,” Ainsley said, looking at Sophia. “You went too? You look simply radiant. But you all weren’t gone for a fortnight.”
“No, Sophia is a quick study,” Mama Jamba offered. “And Hiker knew what he was looking for, so his job should have been quick. Tell me, son, where is Thad, and how are you planning on taking him down?”
Hiker shook his head. “I don’t know. The angels didn’t tell me. Why don’t you tell me?”
Mama Jamba returned her attention to the television. “You know I can’t do that, Hiker. You have to fight your battles on your own. Tough love, you get it.”
“You want me to protect your Earth. Save it. But you’re unwilling to offer me anything?” he asked.
She nodded. “That’s right, dear. I trust you’ll get it done with the resources at your disposal…or you won’t, and we’ll all die from some nuclear explosions.” She shrugged. “Can’t wait to find out how this story ends.”
“Resources,” Hiker muttered, looking around his office. “I’ve got a globe that doesn’t work on my brother, a bunch of newspapers that tell me war is imminent, television screens with anxious reporters who offer more opinion than fact, and not much else.”
“Actually, sir, I might have a way of helping us to find Thad,” Sophia offered.
Mama Jamba pulled a Twizzler from a package she hadn’t had a few seconds earlier and took a bite. She pointed at Sophia. “Resources, Hiker. They are everywhere. They are people. Remember that.”
He turned his attention to Sophia. “What do you mean?”
“Well, since I know Thad uses magitech heavily,” Sophia began, “I took the gun Logan used on Lunis and me to my scientist friend. She’s our foremost expert on magitech. Anyway, she’s been working on a way to track the epicenter of where the magitech is originating. The source, if you will. She says hiding that kind of power is difficult. I can check with her and find out where she is with the process.”
