by Sarah Noffke
“This is not how the rules work!” Trock yelled.
Liv dared take a step forward, her hand in front of her, and pointed at the chief’s chest with a murderous look in her eyes. “You dare to speak of rules when you don’t follow them?”
“We’re protected by the agreement set by the House of Seven,” Trock argued. “You can’t harm me! That was the agreement when we submitted to having our magic governed by the House.”
Liv looked around casually. “Thing is, I don’t see anyone here to stop me.” She twitched one finger to the side and the ropes around the goblin tightened, making his face instantly grow a shade darker. The goblins around them shrank back from the sight. Liv took another step forward. “Now, this is how it’s going to go under my law. You’re going to stop stealing from mortals; no more taking their possessions. As stated in the agreement, you can have that which is lost or discarded, but under no circumstances are you to steal anymore. Do you understand?”
The goblin sneered at her, his large eyes bulging.
“Look, I get that words are hard, so a simple yes will suffice,” Liv said, still pointing her finger in Trock’s direction.
His expression didn’t change.
She nodded calmly. “Very well.” Liv swept her free hand at a row of squatty huts, sending them straight to the ground. Around her many of the goblins screamed with grief, running for the rubble of their houses.
Liv held her hand out to another row of huts, probably filled with innocent people’s stolen goods. “Tell me, Trock, how long will it take you all to rebuild if I destroy everything?”
“Don’t!” the chief yelled, hopping forward in his bindings. “We will stop! I promise!”
Liv gave him a skeptical stare. “Are you sure? I know how hard it is for you goblins to behave yourselves.”
Furiously the chief shook his head. “We will follow the agreement. You have my word. And we’ll return the goods we stole. Just leave here without doing any more damage.”
Liv nodded. “I’ll do you one better.” She swept her arm through the air, and the huts she’d destroyed rose back into place as if they’d never been demolished.
Scratchy whispers issued from the goblins as they marveled at the magic. Goblins’ magic was restricted to finding spells like the ones that helped them locate the riches they’d stolen that day, and those fireballs they could throw. They didn’t have powers close to those of the magicians, and rebuilding their houses would have taken a long time.
Liv rounded on the chief, giving him a serious look. She nodded once and the ropes binding him fell away. “Now, do as you promised, and return the items you stole.”
Trock shook out his stumpy limbs and cracked his neck. “It’s getting late, magician. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Liv sighed, rolling her eyes. “That’s not what we agreed upon. I guess I’ll have to unleash my kitty on you.”
From the darkened jungle on the other side of the closest hut, the sound of a furious lion roaring echoed through the camp, jolting the ground and making the leaves quake.
The goblins all hopped from their places, grabbing the various stolen objects and hurrying off to return them as if they had fireballs chasing them.
It’s not fire, but it will do, Liv thought as she watched them scurrying around.
Chapter Three
“Crack two eggs into a mixing bowl,” Liv read from the recipe book on her countertop.
She took an egg from the carton and cracked it against the bowl with a bit too much force, knocking bits of shell in with it. “Oops. How do you get the eggshell back out?”
Plato looked up from where he was sitting on a mountain of junk on the countertop. “You keep it out in the first place.”
Liv dismissed him with a shake of her head. “That’s not very helpful, but you already knew that.” She dumped the egg into the sink and tried cracking another one. This time she was successful.
“So, although I like the mystery of never knowing what I’ll find when I sit on a heap of stuff,” Plato began, looking around, “I was thinking you might want to consider cleaning up the place.”
Liv gazed around at her studio apartment, which looked more like a war zone than a place where someone lived. “I’m due at work in less than an hour, and I still need to practice the disguising spell Rory taught me. When do I have time?”
“Well, don’t waste your energy using magic to clean the place, especially since you haven’t eaten anything yet and your reserves are low.”
Pulling out all three of the drawers in her kitchen, Liv looked around furiously for a whisk. The oil in the pan was nearly too hot. “And it looks like I might starve at this rate. Who knew that cooking was so hard?”
“You know that you don’t have to cook all of your meals,” Plato reminded her.
She grabbed a fork and began whipping the eggs. “I’m tired of eating from the bakery down the street. I need my leather pants to fit, or I’ll have to get a bigger cape to hide my ass.”
“Magicians who regularly practice magic are rarely overweight, and a Warrior shouldn’t have any problems at all.”
Liv nodded. One of the best benefits of being a magician was that she wouldn’t get fat. “Honestly, I just want to try to be a bit more self-sufficient. It would be nice not to eat out for every meal. And it’s getting expensive.”
“You could be eating at the House of Seven,” Plato stated.
Liv grimaced. “Then I’d have to talk to people, and I’m pretty sure that might kill me.”
“You like talking to some people,” he observed.
Liv poured the half-beaten eggs into the pan, making the oil crankle and pop. “She’s different.”
Plato stretched, causing a pile of overdue bills to slide to the floor. They landed on a heap of dirty laundry.
“Hey now, I had that sorted just the way I like it,” Liv grumbled.
“Speaking of food.” Plato looked around. “Have you seen my food dish? It seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle.”
Liv pursed her lips, pushing aside grocery bags and dishes on the counter. “Yeah, sorry about that. I really do need to clean up this place. I just don’t know when I’ll have the time. Rory insists that I sleep, which means I have time for little else when I’m out fighting goblins who steal trinkets and chasing down minotaurs who track mud through the streets of Spain or whatever other trivial cases the Councilors assign me.”
Plato pushed his nose into another stack of papers, making most of them fall to the ground. He relished though when he found his food bowl but frowned when he discovered it was empty.
Liv’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, sorry. I forgot to get you food. I’ll do that today. Do you want some of my eggs?”
Plato sniffed the air. “I don’t like burned food.”
“Burned?” Liv looked up and ran over to the stove, where her eggs were smoking. “Damn it! When did taking care of myself and you get to be so hard?”
Plato jumped off the counter and disappeared into the pantry. “I’ll be okay. I can always find something.”
Liv turned off the burner and began scraping the eggs into the trash can. Those had been her last eggs, which meant there wasn’t anything else in the apartment that was edible. Well, besides the cat…
She giggled to herself when a red velvet bag tied with a drawstring appeared atop the pile of disorganized junk on the countertop. Liv halted, regarding the bag with hesitation.
“Ummm… I think I got a package, but I didn’t order anything,” Liv said, sliding the still-hot pan into the sink.
Plato exited the pantry carrying a roasted drumstick in his mouth. He eyed the package and then set to work gnawing on the meat.
“Hey, where’d you get that?” Liv asked, looking down at the feline.
“Magic,” he told her coyly.
Liv thought about asking for half but shook her head instead. “So, do you think whatever is in the bag is safe?”
“Well, did it magically appear o
ut of nowhere?”
“Yes.”
“And were you expecting anything from anyone?”
“No.”
“Do you have any enemies?”
“Yes.”
“Then probably it’s not.” Plato went back to work tearing the skin off the drumstick, which had steam rising off of it like it was still hot.
Liv gave the cat a reluctant expression. “I don’t get you, Plato. You’re a very strange animal.” She came around the kitchen bar and regarded the bag with a long stare, expecting a goblin to jump out and try to punch her in the face. When nothing happened, she poked the bag and waited. Still nothing.
Finally, too curious, Liv pulled at the drawstrings of the bag, opening it. “Here goes nothing,” she said, plunging her hand in. The thick papery material that greeted her hand was a complete surprise. Liv knew that sensation but hadn’t felt it in a while. She was holding a wad of cash when she pulled her hand from the bag.
“Who sent this?” she asked, looking at the hundreds of dollars nestled in her hand.
“I’m guessing the House of Seven,” Plato replied. “It must be payday.”
“House of Seven?” Liv asked, setting the money on the counter next to the ever-growing pile of mail and bills. She dug into the bag again and found one more slip of paper. This one wasn’t as thick, and on it was written Weekly Earnings for Liv Beaufont.
Her jaw hung open as she regarded the piece of paper and then the money. “I’ve been paid.”
“Well, you didn’t think it was a volunteer position, did you?”
“I mean, I knew they’d pay me, but I guess I expected leprechaun gold or gems or something else worthless in the real world. I never expected cash.”
“They live in this world too, you know.”
Liv grabbed the money and counted it properly, relishing in the excitement of having so much of it. “Yeah, but it doesn’t really feel like it. The Councilors and Warriors all seem like they are from a different world than the one we live in.”
“They do reside in a different one, but theirs is actually in our world. Never forget that. They can’t get away from our world, which is why they are bound to protect it.”
Liv regarded Plato for a moment, wondering what else he knew that he wasn’t saying. It would do no good to pry. He was a vault when he wanted to be.
“Well, it looks like I can buy us an actual breakfast,” Liv said, pocketing the money. “I’ll also buy you some cat food on the way home from work. And catch up on my bills for once.”
Plato chewed on a piece of meat. “May I also suggest that you use that money to make your life a little easier?”
“I don’t think this is enough money to rid the world of Bianca Mantovani and her constant disapproving stares and remarks.”
Plato snorted with laughter. “I’m afraid it isn’t. But I was actually thinking you could use it to hire a maid. Since you refuse to quit your shift at John’s shop, you need to farm out some of your other responsibilities.”
“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea,” Liv said, looking around at the chaos and disorder that was once her safe haven, the first home she’d made for herself after her parents’ death. “And I guess I’ll get paid regularly, and this is way more than I make working for John.”
“Which means…” Plato took a long, hard look at the kitchen, “that you can also afford to hire someone to cook for us, since you can’t do it.”
“Hey, I could have magicked us some food,” Liv argued.
Plato shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Remember that with domestic magic, if you don’t know how to do something, it’s that much harder when using magic.”
“Right, so if I don’t know how to play the cello, then using magic won’t necessarily make it so that I can,” Liv stated.
Plato nodded. “Magic makes your life easier, but it doesn’t replace skill.”
“But I did control the wind last night, which was pretty cool.”
“That’s elemental magic,” Plato stated. “Also remember that there are many different types of magic, and they cross over and their rules bleed together, which means—”
Liv nodded, cutting him off. “That magic is one complicated beast.”
Chapter Four
Staring at the red coils of the toaster, Liv waited to see what Beth Dallas was talking about. The IT expert had brought the toaster back to the shop after it had been repaired, saying it was doing something bizarre.
Her Dalmatian, Jersey Girl, was currently running her snout along the bottom shelf, trying to find Plato.
“Jers, give it a rest,” Liv said, turning around to scold the dog.
The dog gave her a scornful expression as she backed away.
Liv was only looking out for Jersey Girl. The last time she didn’t let up on Plato, her spots all mysteriously disappeared, freaking out both the dog and Beth. Liv had made up a lie that it was common for Dalmatians to lose their spots. Thankfully they had come back, and Beth wasn’t asking any more questions.
The toaster popped. “See there?” Beth exclaimed.
Liv turned to find two pieces of toast bouncing in the toaster, perfectly crisp on both sides. “So, it works? That’s not strange.”
“I didn’t put any bread in there,” Beth explained, pulling the warm toast out and showing it to Liv.
“Maybe you forgot…” Liv tried, her face growing warm. She’d repaired Beth’s toaster herself, and Beth was on a list of clients who had toasters that worked without bread or microwaves that always had fresh popcorn when their owner opened the door to heat up tea. Damage control was getting more difficult, the more things she repaired.
“No, just watch. It does it every time.” Beth pushed down the lever on the toaster, but Liv knew what was going to happen next.
“This isn’t weird,” Liv said, lacing her words with the magical influence she’d learned to use when dealing with the other customers.
Beth looked up. Her face brightened. “Yeah, you know, you’re right. This is totally normal.”
The technique didn’t always work, and Rory had said it was most helpful on mortals. The giant had actually been surprised that Liv had the power of “influence.”
“Still, let me do some tweaking on it to ensure it’s working properly,” Liv said, pulling up the lever and watching as two almost-cooked pieces of bread popped up. “Maybe you can come back tomorrow sometime?”
Beth nodded, slapping her leg to get Jersey Girl’s attention. “Yes, that sounds good.” The two left, both looking slightly dazed.
“What did you do to the dog?” Liv asked, turning around to face the shelf.
Plato’s black and white head poked out from between a handheld vacuum and a humidifier. “I did the same thing you did to Beth.”
“What did you influence Jersey Dog to think?”
“That she’s a cat.”
Liv rolled her eyes, but she laughed as she turned back to the toaster. “I’ve got to figure out how to stop doing this stuff to devices. Either that or I’m going back to repairing stuff the old-fashioned way.”
“I think it will have to be a combination of both.”
Liv nodded. “Yeah, I remember. Find out what’s wrong with the device first, then tailor the magic to fix that specific thing.” Liv thought for a moment before directing her attention back to Plato, who was squeezing out from between the appliances. “Hey, why is it that I can’t cook food with magic but I can make toasters that produce endless amounts of bread? And I have to know how to do something to use magic to do it, but I can make these devices do all this strange and awesome stuff?”
Plato jumped up on the workbench. “Magic is unpredictable when you mix it with technology. Remember what Rory told you to do before you could control your power?”
“Stay away from tech,” Liv answered.
“That’s right, because technology has its own brand of magic which, when mixed with yours, has assorted effects.”
Liv laughed. “Technology
is science, not magic.”
Plato sniffed at the toast. “Science and magic are the same thing. It’s just that one is understood and the other isn’t.”
“You seem to understand magic, at least a little more than you let on at times,” Liv observed.
Plato pretended he hadn’t heard the statement. “What are you going to tell John if he finds out about these appliances?”
Liv pulled the toaster closer to take a better look at it. “Well, I’m not using that brainwashing technique or whatever it is on him.”
“I think he’s growing suspicious of you, though.”
Liv let out an exasperated sigh. “I know he is, but I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Have you thought about telling him the truth?” Plato offered.
“Only a hundred times,” Liv said as she pulled the bottom off the toaster. “My mother, when she was younger, had a friend who lived next door to her. They grew up together, and although my mother grew up in a family of magicians, they hid it, as the House encourages. Well, one day she decided she was going to tell her best friend the truth. Tell her that she was a magician and she could do weird and wonderful things.”
“I don’t have to hear how the story ended, because it’s been written a hundred times in history books,” Plato said, his voice suddenly morose.
Liv sighed, pushing the toaster away, defeated. “Yes, magicians have been persecuted from the beginning. Or their powers are dismissed as alien activity or some other phenomenon.”
“You know that’s for the best,” Plato told her simply.
“I don’t, actually.” Liv gazed around the store, her second home, feeling a sense of loss. “How is it that we operate separately from the mortals, hiding who we truly are? It doesn’t make any sense.”
