by Sarah Noffke
“Thanks,” Sophia said dryly, not meaning it. “Bep did sense the evil spirit and locked up the grimoire before it could get to it.”
“Which is good because it is an incredibly evil spirit—of the worst type,” Papa Creola told her. “A powerful specter that desires a body and will do anything to get one. If that were to happen, well, we’d have worse problems than we already do.”
“You mean bigger than magicians and elves losing their magic and blurring until they disappear?” Sophia asked.
“Much bigger,” Papa Creola answered. “It’s imperative that the specter, once known as Tatiana Chernyy, never succeeds in getting a body.”
“I’m guessing the spell to do so is in Baba Yaga’s grimoire,” Sophia postulated.
“Can I interest you in something?” Subner asked Lee, who was showing a keen curiosity in a set of knives with curved handles.
“She’s with me,” Sophia cut in.
Lee glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to browse, Mom.”
“We’re not here to shop, especially not you,” Sophia scolded.
“But I brought all my pennies and was hoping to spend my allowance,” Lee joked.
“She’s a bad assassin,” Sophia said to Subner. “Don’t sell her anything.”
“That’s my call to make, not yours, Ms. Beaufont,” the elf with stringy brown hair said.
“I have so many regrets right now.” Sophia glared at the ceiling as if she was talking to the heavens and hoping the angels would take pity on her.
“Like those shoes? They are pretty dull,” Lee teased over her shoulder.
“You’ll regret those cheddar biscuits. They will be back to visit you,” Papa Creola said calmly, his eyes closed.
“When we realize that we control no one but ourselves, we soar instead of struggle,” Subner said, pulling a set of knives from the glass case. “You can’t stop Lee from purchasing anything.”
“I was thinking more about my regrets related to my choice in friends.” Sophia understood why Liv drank so much, based on who she worked with and for.
“Let’s say it’s someone’s last day on Earth,” Lee began, studying the knives Subner was showing her. “Which one of these beauties do you think they’d like to have as the last thing they see?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “This can’t be real.”
“We should always spend all our days like they are our last,” Subner intoned in his usual hippie tone. He couldn’t help it since this was his current reiteration, and Sophia also knew he and Papa Creola secretly hated it. They were learning to embrace their current reality until they regenerated into something new.
Lee nodded. “I agree. I like to spend every day as if it's my last. Staying in bed and calling for a nurse to bring me more pudding.”
Sophia groaned. Papa Creola opened his eyes, finally willing to give her his attention.
“Interesting that you’ve brought the assassin here,” he stated calmly.
“Again, you saw that coming a million miles away,” she replied. “Subner is probably selling her the weapon to kill me with.”
Papa Creola tilted his head to the side with a skeptical expression. “That would be impossible.”
“Why?” she asked at once.
“Because that weapon hasn’t been made yet,” he replied.
A chill ran down her back. “I’m not sure if I should be grateful for that or deeply concerned. Any chance you’ll give me a lead on this weapon and a heads up on the timeline of my death?”
Father Time glared at her with an expression that said, “What do you think?’’
“Well, it was worth a try,” Sophia mumbled.
Papa Creola shrugged. “You were right to seek my councel to deal with this specter. If you hadn’t, which I feared, then Bep would open the chest, and the specter would overwhelm you. It hasn’t been sufficiently motivated to take anyone out in a very long time, but it will do whatever it takes to get its hands on the grimoire.”
“Hands,” Lee said with a laugh.
When no one joined her, she shrugged. “Get it? Because it doesn’t really have hands? Not really?”
“It doesn’t,” Papa Creola imparted. “It does have powers and poltergeist strength, which I dare say are enough to rip Roya Lane in half.”
Sophia shook her head. “We can’t let that happen.”
“No, we can’t,” Papa Creola agreed. “I’ve been waiting to trap this monster for a while. Well, I’ve been waiting for you to get Baba Yaga’s grimoire, this distortion business to happen, you to get the antidote from Rumi, and then give it to Bep along with the spellbook to draw out the evil specter.”
Sophia lowered her chin. “It’s so cute how you work, all without any heads up to us pawns in your game.”
He nodded like she was serious. “I agree.”
“Do you have a way for us to contain this ghost, Tatiana?” Sophia asked. “Like a proton pack or some other ghostbusting equipment?”
As usual, Papa Creola didn’t get the joke. Or maybe he just didn’t find it funny. “I can offer you some help, although you’ll need two people to do it successfully.”
Sophia batted her eyes at him with annoyance before holding out her hand to Lee. “As you saw it coming regarding this situation, probably before I even had consciousness as a fetus, I brought help. None other than the baker assassin who volunteered her services.”
“Yes, good call on your part, letting her join you,” he agreed, striding over to a counter on the far side of the shop. He retrieved two objects. “Now, containing the specter will be very dangerous, and you’ll have to act really fast or it will either get the advantage or flee. Neither of those are options. I need this evil spirit finally gone from this planet.”
Adamantly, Sophia nodded. “I’m listening. What do we have to do?”
He held up two hand mirrors. “You’ve got to get the specter to chase one of you while the other is locked on it with one of the mirrors.”
“So one of us should have the grimoire in hand and run like hell,” Sophia guessed.
“That one will be you, Sophia,” Lee stated. “Rash, remember. Running chafes my legs.”
She nodded. “Copy that. Thanks for the reminder about the rash.”
“You’re welcome. I can show you pictures later,” Lee chirped, returning her attention to the knives on display. She pointed to the first one. “Does that one cut through bone?”
“As I was saying,” Papa Creola continued, “you need to get some distance from each other, but if the first mirror is locked on the specter, then the second one will do so once you’re in place.”
“How far from it will I have to be?” Sophia asked.
“Far,” Papa Creola answered.
“Stop with all the details already,” Sophia remarked. “You’re overwhelming me with information.”
Father Time sighed, cutting his eyes at Subner. “She is a Beaufont, isn’t she?”
“Through and through,” Subner said dryly from behind the counter. “They speak the language of sarcasm.”
Papa Creola returned his gaze to Sophia. “You’ll know when you’re far enough away. There will be a sign. But you have to wait until that moment. Too soon before that and it won’t work and the specter will overpower and win or escape, which I can’t have. Once you’re sure you’re far enough away, then you’ll hold up your mirror and that will trap the specter. As soon as that happens, you’ll throw this down.” He held up a small perfume bottle. “If you’ve done everything right, the specter will be sucked into this and trapped forevermore. You can bring it to me, and I’ll rid Tatiana from this world once and for all.”
“So it is like Ghost Busters, then?” Sophia asked. “I mean since there’s a containment unit and all.”
Papa Creola gave her a confused expression. “I don’t know. I’m not familiar with whatever that is.”
“You know what I was going to do before I was born, but you’re not familiar
with one of the most popular movie franchises of the nineteen-eighties?” Sophia questioned.
He handed her the mirrors and the perfume bottle. “To be honest, I slept through the eighties and think I’m better off for it.”
Chapter Eighty-Seven
“This will be so much fun!” Lee exclaimed as they made their way back to Rose Apothecary.
Sophia gave the baker assassin an incredulous expression. “We have to release and trap an evil specter who Papa Creola has apparently been after for a while and who sounds incredibly dangerous.”
“I know,” Lee said, her tone full of excitement. “Much better than the plans I had to hunt down some murderous crabs for a diabolical idea I have for world domination.”
Rounding the corner to the potion shop, Sophia shook her head. “You said that out loud.”
“So I’m thinking for this mission, I’m Batman and you’re Robin,” Lee went on.
“I think you need to up your meds,” Sophia replied. “I’m the dragonrider who got the case assigned by Father Time. I’m definitely Batman.”
“But,” Lee argued, drawing the word out. “I’m the one wearing Batman underwear.”
“That goes on the long list of things I didn’t need you to tell me.”
The baker assassin shrugged. “Fine, I’ll change my undies before we go, and you can be Robin.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Do you want details or not?” Lee asked with a serious expression.
“I don’t,” Sophia answered, rounding the corner into Rose Apothecary. The smell of gardenia and spices was strong in the air. There were always so many interesting aromas in the shop.
Bep glanced up from behind the counter.
“We’re ready to face the specter,” Sophia said, looking around. “Where are you keeping Baba Yaga’s grimoire?”
“It’s right there.” She pointed to a large black chest that was latched shut sitting on a table in the middle of the shop.
Sophia positioned herself in front of it, one of the mirrors in her hand. She’d given the other one to Lee. “Are you ready?” she asked her.
“What did Batman say to Robin before they got in the Batcar?” Lee asked.
Sophia just glared at her with an expression that said, “I’m ready for the bad punchline.”
“Robin, get in the car.” Lee howled with laughter.
Bep shook her head. “You’ll be taking this one with you, I hope.”
“Actually,” Sophia began. “She’s going to stay here and serve as the anchor. I’m the one who has to run with the grimoire and get the specter to follow me.”
“You’re leaving her here with me.” Bep didn’t sound happy about the situation.
“Yep,” Lee affirmed. “All I’ve got to do is hold a stupid hand mirror, so I’ll have ample opportunity to test some killer material on you.”
“According to Papa Creola, this is going to be very taxing,” Sophia warned Lee. “I need you to focus your attention on holding that mirror and tethering its magical energy to the specter.”
Lee smirked. “I’m a good multi-tasker. I’ll have no problem holding Tatiana and telling deadly jokes.”
Bep shook her head as she made for the door. “I’m going to grab lunch. Lock up when you’re done trapping the evil spirit and clean up if you make a mess.”
“Don’t die,” she added at the door. “If you do, try and do it outside of the shop. It took me forever to get the bloodstains off the floor last time.”
Sophia closed her eyes for a half-beat, wondering if it was too late to start a different profession. Maybe she could be the librarian for the Great Library. Being in a quiet place without so many crazies around her all the time might be nice.
“Baking soda,” Lee said, seemingly randomly.
“Huh?” Sophia asked.
“That’s how I get blood stains out of things,” Lee answered.
She nodded, waving to Bep. “We’ll die outside on the streets.”
The potions expert smiled and left the shop, leaving Sophia with no choice but to devote her attention to the next phase of the mission, luring the specter out so the chase could begin.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Sophia’s hands shook ever so slightly as she reached for the latch.
“While you’re out, can you pick me up some sunflower seeds?” Lee asked, quite seriously. “I’ve got a craving for something salty.”
Grateful for the delay, Sophia rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll be a little busy running like hell to put distance between me and the specter.”
Lee sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. But try and hurry. I haven’t had a second lunch yet.”
“You have my sympathies,” Sophia said dryly. “How are you even able to stand there without fainting?”
Nodding, as though she was glad Sophia understood, Lee frowned. “I had a second breakfast later than usual and that helps.”
“I had a brontosaurus steak for lunch, and it helped a lot,” Sophia related. “I should be able to keep running for a while if necessary, and my magical reserves are full.”
“So is your need to stall,” Lee observed. “You going to open up this bad boy anytime soon so Tatiana can join us, or do you want to tell me what you had for breakfast first? I’m a good listener.”
“When we were in the Fantastical Armory earlier, you said you never listen when people speak,” Sophia argued, putting her hands on her hips.
“Did I?” Lee asked. “I don’t remember. That was ages ago.”
“Ten minutes,” Sophia countered.
“Like I said, ages,” Lee agreed. “No wonder I’m so hungry.” She looked around. “Maybe Bep has a snack.”
“Don’t eat anything that’s in here,” Sophia warned. “You have no idea what it is or what it will do.”
“Wow, your boy toy must love spending time with you,” Lee observed. “Don’t touch anything. Don’t eat anything. I bet you make him wash his hands after he uses the restroom.”
Sophia’s eyes reflexively widened. “Remind me never to eat anything from the Crying Cat Bakery ever again. It’s people like you that spread a pandemic.”
“Oh, you should never eat anything from that place,” Lee said, leaning in closer and cupping her mouth. “Between you and me, I think Cat is trying to kill me and poisoning all the food in hopes that I’ll consume it.”
“It’s a wonder that you have stayed in business this long.”
“What’s a wonder,” Lee began, holding up the small intricately decorated silver hand mirror, “is that you’ve stretched out this nonconversation so long. So are we going to contain a specter already or do you want another killer joke? I’ve got one about a two-legged cow.”
“I’m ready,” Sophia said, shaking her head adamantly.
“It’s lean beef!” Lee exclaimed, laughing.
Blowing out a long breath, Sophia smirked at her friend before unlocking the latch and opening the chest, releasing Baba Yaga’s grimoire and all the energy that rebounded off the spellbook, attracting the worst of the worst.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
The appearance of Baba Yaga’s ancient book was somehow more menacing than before. The grimoire had been created by an evil witch, but it also had helpful spells in it—like how to replicate complex spells. Without that information, Bep wouldn’t have been able to copy the cure for distortion. Sophia reminded herself that magic could always be used for good or evil. It just so happened her job often required her to stop those with evil agendas from getting their hands on their objects of desire.
Reaching into the dark chest that was full of other weird artifacts, Sophia pulled the thick leather-bound book from the top.
She pressed the book to her chest and glanced around, expecting the specter to appear instantly.
Glancing at Lee, she gave her a questioning expression.
The baker assassin shrugged. “She might be on the toilet. Give her a minute.”
Striding fo
r the shop door, Sophia prepared herself mentally for what she’d have to do next.
“Let’s hope her commute time isn’t long, though,” Lee stated. “I got the tum rums.”
“Please make this more about you and your unrelenting hunger,” Sophia said, glancing over her shoulder toward Roya Lane, which was busy. That would make running from Tatiana more difficult.
Lee looked off longingly. “Oh, I’m glad you care so much about my tum-tum. I could really go for some fry-fry chicky-chick. That’s fried chicken.” Her eyes widened. “Or some chicky-chicky-parm-parm.”
“That’s chicken parmesan, I’m guessing?” Sophia asked.
“Have you never seen Parks and Recreation?” Lee asked, appearing offended.
“I save the world for a living,” Sophia answered.
Lee scoffed at her. “I kill people and run a shady bakery. You don’t see that stopping me from rewatching Leslie Poehler’s greatness unfold over and over again. Priorities.”
“You really do amaze me,” Sophia said, her eyes searching the shop for signs of the specter. The wait was torture.
“Come on, Tat!” Lee boomed, grabbing her stomach like the hunger was killing her.
“I wonder what this evil spirit did when she was alive?” Sophia mused, deciding it was best to keep herself distracted. Lee’s humor really did the trick, although she wasn’t going to tell her that.
Lee thought for a moment. “I bet she was one of those posh people who spoke with a British accent, even though they were from Cleveland, and drank tea with their pinkies in the air.”
Sophia nodded, knowing the type. “On social media, she made vague posts, like ‘Man, what happened just sucks. Cheer me up with a pic of your dog.’”
“Those people are the worst,” Lee agreed. “Tat probably wore really bright red lipstick and lots of makeup to hide the fact she looks like a troll and went to renaissance conventions, called everyone her best friend, although by definition you can only have one. I bet she bought stuffed animals for adults like they were children and nicknamed literally everyone in her life. She never knew how much money she had, which was usually zero because she couldn’t hold down a job, and pretended to be a vegan to impress people. She thought she was better at everything, even though she was the absolute worst.”
