The Uncooperative Warrior
Page 15
“I can fix the gem room,” Freddie said.
Liv’s chin jerked back in the brownie’s direction. “You can? How?”
“Well, I can’t replace anything that was lost, but I can clean it up so it doesn’t appear that a battle happened there.”
“Really? That would be fantastic!” Liv said, her chest lightening suddenly. “Thank you. And I guess a dozen gems missing in a collection of a few thousand will be okay. The museum will just think that whoever stole the sword also took those.”
“The authorities will be very curious about what happened on this night,” Freddie stated, a giggle in his voice.
“And the mortals?” Liv gestured in their direction. “What will they think?”
“They will awake not remembering anything and find their work all done,” Freddie explained, hopping down from the stool he’d been standing on. “I’ve wiped their memories since I didn’t want you to have to do it.”
A smile cracked Liv’s face. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful. The Council—”
“—shall not know.” Freddie finished her sentence. “Mortimer said you and he keep secrets from the Council. This will be one of them.”
“Wow, you really saved my butt tonight. I appreciate everything. If you hadn’t gotten to the sword first and hidden it, the elf would have it.”
Freddy picked up packing materials, folding them and laying them back in the boxes, taking great care with every action. He worked proudly and as if each task consumed his full attention. “I have never worked for a magician before. However, I’ve liked helping you tonight. You are different, Liv Beaufont, Warrior of the House of Seven.”
“Tell me about it,” Liv wise-craked. “I’m considered sort of uncooperative, and there is probably a whole list of names the Councilors call me behind my back.”
“The things people say behind your back are never worth your time,” Freddie told her as he worked. He looked up at her, a meaningful expression in his eyes. Liv noticed how old and wise he appeared. “Mortimer wanted me to give you this if I so desired.” He turned over his hand to reveal a small envelope sealed with wax and a symbol she supposed represented the brownies.
“If you so desired?” Liv hesitated, not grabbing the letter although she wanted to.
“True character is revealed in battles,” Freddie stated. “When a warrior is faced with life and death, taking or giving, preserving or destroying, their real self comes out. Mortimer doubted that his loyalty in you was well-placed, but I think you have put his fears to rest tonight. I will communicate that to him, ensuring that the brownies are forever your servants.”
Liv’s mouth fell open. She didn’t know what to say, which might have been a first.
Freddy extended his hand, urging her to take the envelope. “You asked Mortimer for information on a canister of magic. I think he’s found clues for you, but I know no more than this. The letter will explain the rest.”
Her heart pounding with excitement, Liv reached for the letter. “Thank you. This is wonderful. I rescued the sword, and now this!”
Freddy nodded good-naturally, returning to his work organizing the carvings.
Liv slipped the letter into her cape and lifted the sword to her shoulder again. “I should get out of here, but I can help if you need me to.”
Freddy shook his head as he pulled out a rag to polish the carving he was working on. “I work better alone. All brownies do. And like I said, from this point forward, we are your servants. You have important business to attend to and should be off.”
“But you don’t have to be my servants,” Liv argued. “I never asked for it. And really, I think what the brownies and I have should be considered a mutual partnership.”
Freddy turned to face her, a strange smile making the many wrinkles on his face deepen. “You are exactly right. We don’t have to be your servants, and working for a magician is a first as far as I know. Brownies choose who they work for. We take great care deciding that. And if you’d rather call it a partnership, that’s up to you, although I don’t think it should really matter. The reality is that if you ever need us, all you must do is ask and we will be there to serve.”
Liv bowed her head in gratitude. “The reason I insist we call it a partnership is that the same is true of the brownies. If you ever need anything from me, I’ll be there to help as well.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Multiple times, Stefan had wanted to abandon his hiding place on the roof of the neighboring building and rush into the Natural History Museum to help Liv. However, he wasn’t sure that she’d see it as a good thing. And in truth, he wasn’t sure she needed his assistance. He just wanted to help, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. For a solid hour he watched the museum, seeing nothing but a few mortals leaving and returning with takeout and an elf hurrying away. Then he spotted streaks of fire inside the museum through the exterior glass walls. Something incredible was happening in there, and he was desperate to know what it was.
When Liv finally exited the museum, Stefan could hardly make out her form, as if she’d disguised it somehow. She was carrying something large, but from that distance, it was impossible to know what it was. He reasoned that if she’d used magic to disguise it, it might be impossible to tell what it was except up close.
He’d just have to get a closer look and find out where she was going. He was certain it wasn’t the House of Seven.
Stefan took three steps and leapt off the two-story building, landing gracefully on the ground below, never losing sight of Liv. However, when he went to take his next step, his feet were strangely stuck to the ground. He nearly fell to his hands and knees from the effort of trying to dislodge them. No spell that he tried unsealed his feet from the pavement. It didn’t make any sense. What sort of spell had been used on him? And when?
Jerking his head up as he pulled at his feet, Stefan watched as Liv disappeared down an alley, getting away from him. Following her was out of the question now. He’d never be able to catch up. She’d probably create a portal and disappear before he’d even crossed the street.
As if the seal had been broken by his disappointment, Stefan’s boots came free. His sudden momentum carried him several feet before he turned around to eye the place he’d been stuck. There were no markings on the sidewalk or any other clue why he’d been trapped there. However, as he continued to study the area, he noticed a cat sitting next to the building he’d been stationed atop. It was mostly white, with large black spots. When the feline stretched to a standing position, his tail, which was black save for the white tip, went up into the air.
Stefan didn’t think he imagined the smug look the cat gave him as it sauntered around the building and out of sight.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cloaking the sword had been Plato’s idea, and it had been a good one. Otherwise, Liv didn’t know how she would have looked walking through the streets of Los Angeles carrying a giant’s sword.
Putting a cloak on Turbinger hadn’t been easy, though. The sword, whose personality she was learning more about each moment she spent with it, didn’t want to be concealed. Finally, after explaining to the sword the importance of the cloak, it allowed the magic, hiding it from the view of passersby. Thankfully no one saw her leaving the museum, or when she stepped out of the portal onto Rory’s street. If they had, she would have looked like she was carrying a cello.
It was after midnight when she hauled the sword to Rory’s door. Not only would she be grateful to not have to carry Turbinger around anymore, but she’d also enjoy having her head back. While she held the sword, she heard its wants and thoughts and felt its memories. It wanted justice, a desire she could relate to. The sword thought of nothing but its masters throughout the centuries, and its memories were full of blood and battles and a pain unlike no other she’d ever experienced.
The lights in Rory’s house were off when she dragged the sword to the door. She’d never seen the house like this. Even at night, the
lights from inside spilled out through the windows, casting the yards in brightness as if a full moon shone overhead.
Keeping two hands on Turbinger, Liv kicked the door.
No one answered.
Again she kicked at the door, almost expecting it to swing open like it usually did when she arrived. However, it appeared that the house’s occupant was asleep and hard to wake.
Liv kicked the door even harder, making a barrage of noise. She made a note that she’d have to wipe her footprints from its surface before she left.
“What do you want?” Rory yelled as he opened the door, confused outrage on his face. Kittens spilled from behind the door and tumbled over Liv’s feet, taking this opportunity to play. Rory’s eyes were red, and his face was partially covered by his messy hair. He pushed it out of his face, and his expression changed to one of pure disbelief.
“No!” He gasped. “Y-y-you did it.”
Liv offered him a confident smile. “You doubted me?”
“No, I just figured…” Rory reached for Turbinger but pulled back like he was afraid. “I thought it might take time. I didn’t expect…”
“I sort of think we should have a ceremony, but you’re not dressed for it and I’m tuckered out. What are you wearing, by the way?”
Rory came back to reality, dragging his eyes away from the sword long enough to look down at the dressing gown he was wearing. The sleeves were tied around his wrists with bows, and the bottom was trimmed with lace. “It’s my sleep shirt.”
“It’s a tent, and it has lace on it,” Liv stated.
“Here, come in.” Rory stepped back, waving her into his mostly dark house. The kittens followed, and when the door had closed, a flame erupted in the fireplace, offering just enough light.
Liv strained as she put her hand under the blade and lifted Turbinger so it was horizontal. “Rory, are you ready to take your grandfather’s sword, or would you like to put on pants first?”
He simply nodded, his eyes not wavering from the sword.
“Is that a yes about taking Turbinger or about putting on pants?” she joked, extending her arms, which shook from the fatigue of holding the weapon.
“I-I-I don’t know if I’m ready…” Rory backed up a step.
Liv dropped her chin to her chest. “Are you serious? I nearly got all my hair burned off getting you this sword. And it’s a beast, so be warned. You don’t get to turn into a psychopath after taking hold of this thing.”
Combing his hand through his hair, Rory gawked at her. “I can’t believe you got it. I never expected…”
“Yes, we’ve established how little faith you had in my ability to complete this mission,” Liv told him, again holding the sword out a few inches. “Take Turbinger, Rory. It’s you it belongs to.”
With shaking hands, Rory reached out, his eyes buzzing with excitement. When he wrapped his hands around the hilt, he lifted the sword like it weighed nothing, holding it with practiced grace in front of him.
His eyes widened, and Liv knew exactly why. It was the voice of Turbinger running through his head. The images. The feelings. The unrelenting energy it possessed.
“Wow, I knew it was powerful, but I had no idea how powerful,” Rory exclaimed, closing his eyes and listening.
“The sword isn’t just powerful, it’s dangerous,” Liv informed him, “which is why I’m confident that if anyone should have it, it should be you. Someone needs to protect this weapon from whoever else wants it.” Liv began telling Rory the story of the elf at the Natural History Museum. He tested the balance of the sword many times as she told him what had happened. When she was done, he gave her an earnest look.
“I’m sorry that I put you in that kind of danger. I didn’t know others would be going after the sword.”
“Well, I don’t think they were,” Liv stated. “I think I triggered their attention when I first tried to get Turbinger.”
“Then maybe they didn’t want the sword for themselves,” Rory reasoned. “It’s been there for decades, and no one has tried to take it. Maybe they only didn’t want you to steal it and give it back to the giants.”
“But then there’s the question of why? Why did someone put the sword there in the first place, surrounding it with magical wards that kept you out? Why did they want to keep it away from the giants?”
“There is a lot of history that I don’t know,” Rory admitted. “And there’s even more I choose to ignore, although my ancestors didn’t. Magicians and giants, as you know, haven’t gotten along for centuries.”
“I think there’s a way to fill in the missing pieces,” Liv said, looking at the sword in Rory’s hands.
He seemed to understand immediately, his eyes following hers. “It has a story to share.”
She nodded. “And hopefully, it will tell it in time. When it does, will you share?”
He thought for a moment and then agreed. “Yes, I will tell you what I learn from Turbinger.”
Junebug had been trying to get Liv’s attention since she’d entered. She leaned over and picked up the hairball, cradling him. He was having none of that and climbed onto her shoulder, where he perched, watching Rory admire the sword.
After a moment, he looked at her like he’d forgotten she was still there watching him. “I don’t have your sword ready.”
“Because you didn’t expect me to fulfill my end of the deal,” Liv teased.
“Because crafting a sword takes time,” he corrected. “It won’t take much longer, though.”
“Just don’t make it as big as that mammoth one. I’m going to need a massage after lugging that thing around.”
Rory chuckled, something he did so rarely that it always got her attention. “It was pretty funny to see you holding this when I opened the door.”
She joined him, imagining the sight in her head. “Yeah, I bet you not only didn’t expect me to get the sword but also didn’t think I could carry it back to you.”
Rory’s smile vanished. “I never doubted your ability to retrieve Turbinger. I only expected that it would take longer. And I knew you’d find a way to deliver it to me, although it is as big as you.”
It felt like they were on the edge of a moment…so Liv went to the front of the house. “Sorry I kicked your door to get your attention. That thing requires both hands.”
He didn’t look concerned as he set the sword into a holder above the fireplace. Liv hadn’t noticed it was there, but it seemed to be made for the sword.
“Wasn’t there a painting in that spot before?” Liv asked.
“There was,” Rory said, stepping back and admiring Turbinger shining in the firelight. He turned to face her, exhaustion edging his features. “I’ll have your sword ready in a week, or maybe less. And no, it won’t be this big. I’ve made it for you, based on your size.”
“So it will be more like a dagger?” Liv joked.
Rory rolled his eyes. “It will be a sword.”
“Hey, in the meantime, if you want to teach me how to create fireballs, I’d appreciate it. So damn tired of getting flames thrown at me.”
“That’s gnome and elf magic,” Rory said. “I can make you a sword and teach you how to stay alive. Well, if you can learn to keep your mouth shut.”
“So I’m doomed, then?”
Rory flicked his hand at the door and it opened, a hint that it was time for her to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Liv, and we’ll look at adding combat magic to your arsenal.”
Liv pulled Junebug off her shoulder and set him on the floor. He and the other kittens took off for the back of the house, sounding like a herd of cows. “Yeah, there won’t always be a giant’s sword lying in the perfect place to save my ass.”
When she was at the door, Liv turned around. Rory’s gaze was glued on the sword, the disbelief back.
“All right, good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Rory said absently, lost in thought.
When she’d crossed the threshold, Rory let out a
heavy sigh. “Hey, Liv?”
She looked over her shoulder at him.
“Thank you for returning Turbinger home. It’s not my grandfather, but it’s as close as I’ll ever get, and that means…well, more than you could know.”
Liv glanced at the sword hanging over the fireplace, a sharp prickle spreading through her chest. “Oh, I think I understand. Just remember, familia est sempiternurn.”
Rory nodded, a tender expression on his face. “Yes, family is forever.”
Chapter Thirty
Staring at the box on the counter, Liv stood motionless.
“Well, it’s not going to make itself,” Plato said, jumping up on the counter and rubbing his face against the cardboard corner.
“I thought that was how magic worked?” Liv joked.
“And I thought you were trying to learn how to do things without magic before coasting through the rest of your life relying on spells.”
Liv raised an eyebrow at the cat. “I didn’t realize you had such a strong opinion about magic.”
“I just think it’s important not to become overly dependent on it,” Plato explained. “The best magicians I’ve known could get themselves out of a dire situation without their magic, but had the upper hand when they employed it along with their practical skills.”
Liv let out a sigh and opened the box. “Fine. I’ll learn how to cook.”
“The meal kit has all the ingredients and instructions. How hard can it be?” Plato asked.
“Says the cat who doesn’t have opposable thumbs.”
A knock on the door made Liv jump. She had been extra-tense since the museum, expecting the authorities to show up and arrest her for the robbery. The news channels had broadcast many reports about the break-in, all offering zero information on suspects or leads the police were pursuing.
Liv let out a sigh after looking through the peephole. Of course he was early, she thought. That had always been his style.