Harmonize Hostilities (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 7)

by Sarah Noffke

On the makeshift lab table Alicia had made was a man who appeared to be passed out.

  “Hey, so how are things going?” Sophia asked. She studied the man, who had scars on his exposed arms and legs but otherwise appeared to be normal.

  Alicia glanced over her shoulder, pulling her attention up from a computer workstation. “Hello, Sophia,” she said with her Italian accent. “Things are progressing. We’ve had success with the antidote for a few of the participants.”

  Trin was sitting on one of the counters, kicking her legs back and forth.

  “That’s great,” Sophia said, grasping the man had once been a cyborg, but the antidote appeared to have made it possible to remove the magitech from his body. She indicated faintly to the back. “But what about…”

  Alicia glanced in that direction and her expression fell. “It doesn’t appear to work on her…yet.”

  “Yet?” Sophia asked.

  “Well, maybe not at all,” Alicia amended. “I’m hoping I can up the dose over time and have success, but I’ve had to prepare Trin for the reality that it might not ever work entirely on her. We may be able to remove some of her magitech and make her appear somewhat normal, but I’m not certain we can make a full recovery back to her original form like we have with the others.” She nodded at the sleeping man on the table.

  “Why?” Sophia questioned. Her heart plummeted for her friend, Trin, who was once an enemy.

  “She was in the first batch,” Alicia began. “As I mentioned before, only Trin survived the aggressive procedures that Mika Lenna did before he realized it was too much for most magicians to survive. There’s just too much magitech in her body.”

  “Oh, okay,” Sophia said in a hush. She made her way to where Trin was continuing to kick her legs, her boots hitting against the cabinets where she sat.

  “Hey.” She tried to invoke cheerfulness in her voice. “It’s busy in here.”

  Trin glanced up, her mechanical eye scanning Sophia with a discerning quality that made it feel like she was looking through her. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better about this.”

  It made Sophia feel worse that Trin was trying to take the pressure off to console her.

  “Alicia will keep trying things,” Sophia stated, hoisting herself up to sit next to her friend. “She said she’d up the dose. If anyone can figure this out, it’s Alicia.”

  Trin sighed. “It might be the inevitable reality that there is no cure for me. I’m not like them.” She waved her hand in the direction of the front of the shop where the cyborgs were lined up, waiting for their dose of the antidote.

  Sophia nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry…” She knew the cyborg didn’t want her pity, and yet, an apology seemed like the only thing to be said. Trin was human after all, and regardless of what she wanted, she deserved sympathy. However, she was used to being seen as strong and obviously didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her.

  Trin pressed her lips together. “If I stay like this, then that’s okay. I’ll just find a place for me that makes sense and not go for that career as a Hollywood model and actress-slash-rockstar like I dreamed.”

  Sophia couldn’t help but laugh at the dark joke. It was at least something that Trin’s sense of humor was intact. “You know, if Alicia isn’t able to fix you entirely, there’s a job opening I know you’ll be good at. One could say you’re the most qualified person for the position.”

  Trin arched an eyebrow at her, the expression on her face saying, “Go on.”

  “Well, you know the Great Library is still in need of a librarian,” she explained.

  The cyborg sighed. “You know I didn’t really kill Trinity, the old librarian. He was pretty much gone when I found him. I just used a part of him to create a glamour so I could impersonate him.”

  Sophia nodded. That’s how Trin had tricked Sophia into giving her the Complete History of Dragonriders and learned about the antidote. “Your glamour was really impressive.”

  Trin pursed her lips, a slight smile hiding under her expression. “A benefit of this cyborg business is that I have enhanced glamour, especially if I have something that belongs to the person I want to impersonate.”

  “That is a benefit,” Sophia agreed. “I just was impersonating a hipster but not very well. I had no inclination to make latte foam art or take a gap year to backpack across the Andes.”

  Trin laughed, a strange mechanical sound. “Anyway, thanks for the idea about the Great Library, but I already did that and it was quite lonesome. It’s also a very demanding job, and I was hoping for something where I can be around others, but not have too many responsibilities.”

  Sophia nodded. “I can appreciate that.” Something occurred to her, but she thought it was better not to say anything about it just yet. Instead, she tucked the idea away and made a plan to discuss it with someone else later. If they were responsive to the idea, she could talk to Trin about it.

  “Well, I’m glad to see that things are progressing in a way,” Sophia said as her phone buzzed in her pocket.

  She withdrew it and found a message from one of the few people on the globe she couldn’t ignore. Not because they were a top priority to her like Liv or Clark or Wilder, but because if she didn’t respond to his request to meet, he’d haunt her dreams and make the rest of her hopefully long life miserable.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  When Father Time sends you a message saying, “Get here within the hour. It’s time you make up for losing the reset point,” then you haul ass to Roya Lane. Even if Sophia had plenty of time to step through a portal and hurry down the usually crowded lane, she didn’t want to chance being late. Papa Creola knew exactly how long it would take her to get there, and that’s why he sent a second message that said, “You have six minutes for the fae. No more.”

  Sophia didn’t know what that second message meant but figured she’d be finding out.

  Once on Roya Lane, she kept her head down and hurried for the end of the road. She thought about glamouring herself back into looking like a hipster just so she wouldn’t be stopped by anyone who recognized her. However, she might then get stopped by some hippie elf who wanted to talk about how record players were superior to digital music because “the soul of the music came through” or how “kale chips are the best things ever” or “the very best way to milk an almond.”

  Sophia decided to take her chances and sped down the lane, snaking her way through the crowd. She was almost to the Fantastical Armory a whole eight minutes early when a voice she recognized rang out from the candle store.

  “There’s my goddaughter!” King Rudolf Sweetwater yelled, waving like Forrest Gump standing on the shrimping boat.

  Sophia halted and groaned, then muttered to herself, “Fae…oh, it’s that one. I should have known.”

  Before turning to face the interruption, she eyed her watch. I have just enough time for a six-minute conversation, she thought. Of course, Papa Creola had seen all this and planned for it.

  “Hey, Rudolf,” she said. She knew there was no use in correcting him once again about how she wasn’t his goddaughter.

  “Hey,” he greeted her, holding up a bag. “I bought some candles from this shop. There’s one in here that clears the negative energy from a space. At fifty bucks a pop, that’s a total steal, don’t you think?”

  “From who?” Sophia asked dryly. “From the store or from you?”

  “It’s a win-win,” he declared. “I also put in an order for sage for the casinos. Do you know that none of the casinos on the Las Vegas strip have been saged?”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Yeah, so I placed an order for a few hundred, and they charged me full price for the candles, saying they have to overcompensate for the brain cells I’d killed with my visit,” Rudolf explained. He shook his head and clicked his tongue with disapproval. “Under Queen Visa, that place was surely going to fall into ruin. But I’ll have all the rooms and casinos smoked with sage by the end of the week.”
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  “Yeah, it’s hard to believe the Las Vegas strip has been a spot of constant revenue, growing and expanding year after year under the queen’s rule,” Sophia said sarcastically.

  He nodded. “Tell me about it.”

  “So, with all this shopping, are you able to work on the dragon shell business?” Sophia asked a bit worried she’d gone into business with the wrong person. She knew that already but since the idea had been Rudolf’s, she’d felt she had to.

  “Well,” he began, slipping into a more professional tone. “I’m getting updates from Bep on the status of the healing potion. She’s not quite ready yet. In the meantime, I’ve gone ahead and applied for a business loan, set up a website, and decided against having a brick and mortar shop since we want to keep overheads low, maximizing profits. So, instead, I’m taking preorders and arranging them in order of importance. I set up a whole nonbiased system which allows me to grade someone’s illness or symptoms, awarding the healing potion to the person who needs it most.”

  Sophia was momentarily speechless. “Wow, that’s actually brilliant. You sound like you’re doing a fantastic job of managing the business.”

  “And of course, ugly magicians are moved to the top of the list because that’s the worst affliction, after all,” Rudolf imparted.

  Sophia slumped. She should have seen that one coming. “Of course.”

  “Anyway, I have to buzz off before my candles melt,” he said.

  “You do realize that unless they are lit that…you know what, yeah, you better get back before they melt.”

  He flashed her a toothy grin. “I’ll see you later, goddaughter.”

  “Later,” Sophia said, eyeing her watch. That had taken exactly six minutes, giving her exactly the amount of time she needed to make her way to the Fantastical Armory.

  She shook her head and continued on her way. “Papa Creola, you tricky, all-knowing hippie elf.”

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Sophia rushed into the Fantastical Armory right on time. Of course, Father Time wasn’t waiting for her, or there to commend her punctuality.

  She panted slightly as she looked Subner over. The elfin hippie was sporting dreadlocks, which did little to make him seem like a serious weapon’s dealer of high-end swords and whatnot. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be meditating. Knowing Subner in his current form, Sophia figured he was one-hundred percent meditating.

  She cleared her throat to get his attention. He peeled open an eye and gave her a calm expression.

  “Papa will be with you momentarily,” he said impassively.

  She sighed. “So, I have to be on time, but he gets to be late?”

  “He’s the father of time,” he related as if that was sufficient. Sophia reasoned it probably was, but the rebel in her wanted to fight for equal rights, which was ridiculous since Papa Creola was all-powerful.

  Sophia pretended to study the various weapons and artifacts in the glass cases but found she was suddenly antsy to know what Papa Creola wanted her for, causing her mind to wander.

  “If you’re looking for something to do,” Subner began in a melodic voice, “you could try dancing.”

  Sophia glanced at the elf shop owner. His eyes were still closed. “I think I’m good.”

  She wasn’t even going to argue there was no music to dance to or that randomly breaking into dance in the middle of an armory was ridiculous. There was no point in arguing with a hippie.

  They always justified things with something about harmony and peace being the result. Sophia knew that to create those results was much more difficult and usually only happened when obstacles were overcome. Hippies wanted to believe the greatest obstacle was the ego, but life in Sophia’s world wasn’t that cut and dry.

  “Maybe part of your problem is that you wear such constricting clothing,” Subner offered.

  Sophia glanced down at her armored top and leather pants. “Yeah, but wearing hemp pants with tie-dye designs doesn’t really protect me from fire or sharp teeth or the other dangerous things I encounter regularly.”

  “And yet, the armored car often swerves to avoid running over the defenseless animal in the road,” Subner argued, still appearing to meditate.

  “So, I should be like a squirrel?” Sophia asked. “I should appear vulnerable, so then I can have the upper hand and make the car swerve off the road and wreck?”

  He opened his eyes and gave her a disappointed expression. “I don’t believe that’s what I was trying to say at all.”

  She shrugged, eyeing some new products besides the cash register. “Are you selling CBD oil now?”

  The elf nodded. “I can’t resist who I am or what the elf in me wants to do.”

  “Which is why you’re meditating and giving me bad advice about dancing and why you did that thing to your hair,” she said, waving at his matted locks.

  He nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “How much longer will I have to deal with you like this?”

  Subner glanced at the clock in the corner, like it might offer some options. “Another two to three hundred years. It depends.”

  She groaned. “Maybe I can go and resurrect one of Papa Creola’s enemies so you both can regenerate.”

  “I would ask you to do that if the potential of it backfiring didn’t also have the chance of backfiring.”

  The door behind the main counter opened and Father Time stepped through, unapologetic about being late. He hardly even paid notice to Sophia as he counted coins from his pocket as though trying to find the right amount for a soda.

  “I was here on time,” she announced at his arrival.

  “Good for you,” he stated. “Someone else wasn’t.”

  “I’m glad you can admit that in front of everyone.”

  Papa Creola glanced up. “Not everyone is here yet.”

  Sophia blinked at him. “They aren’t? Who else are you expecting?”

  “Others,” he said.

  She saw then he was sorting through small crystals in the palm of his hand. “Making a rock collection?” Sophia dared to ask.

  He slipped the crystals back into his pocket and shook his head. “As you know, when you destroyed the reset point, it created a certain debt to me that must be repaid.”

  “Hiker Wallace, the leader of the Dragon Elite, destroyed it,” she corrected. “You should contact him for repayment.”

  Papa Creola frowned at her. “You and I both know it was entrusted to you, and therefore you owe the debt that must be repaid.”

  “I don’t like how you keep using the word ‘repaid.’”

  “What you don’t like is your soul’s journey to explore,” Subner offered, still sitting in the lotus position.

  She cut her eyes at him. “My soul is a homebody and doesn’t feel the need to explore or journey or go on a walkabout of any sort.”

  Papa Creola pulled a small bottle of essential oil from his other pocket and unscrewed the lid before taking a whiff. “As I was saying, you are required to complete a task for me to repay the debt. I require a grimoire that has been lost for ages, and you’re the perfect person to collect it for me.”

  “I’m the perfect person? Why?”

  “Because,” he answered.

  Sophia groaned. “Okay, where can I find this grimoire?”

  He gave her a long glare she interpreted as saying, “You know I’m not telling you that information.”

  “Okay, well, can you tell me where to look for this mysterious location of the spell book?” Sophia asked, hoping he’d take pity on her.

  “I can’t,” he answered simply. “However, there are some small friends you recently helped who owe you a favor. I hope you’re realizing by now that this world is forged by favors. We all owe each other something, and the balance is always shifting back and forth.”

  She blinked at Father Time. “You mean Mortimer? He’s supposed to tell me where the location to the temple for the protection spell is located.”

  “And w
here do you think that will be found?” Papa Creola asked, a knowing smile in his eyes.

  She nodded. “In this grimoire. So, I locate it based on where Mortimer tells me to look and then it tells me the temple location. But then you need me to get it, because?”

  “Because it’s unsafe in its current location,” Papa Creola answered. “Its original owner is after it.”

  Sophia tilted her head to the side. “Sounds like they hold a rightful claim to the book.”

  He nodded. “You would think, but my job is often to keep things out of the hands of those they seem to belong to.”

  “Like the Holy Grail,” Subner added from the sidelines.

  “The Holy Grail?” Sophia questioned. “You took it from—”

  Papa Creola nodded, interrupting her. “Exactly. My job is to keep these powerful objects safe if they threaten the passing of time or the longevity of too many lives. If we all lived forever, do you know what that would do to this planet?”

  “Not to mention how packed restaurants would be on Friday nights,” Sophia joked with a dry laugh.

  Papa Creola didn’t appear amused. “You are to recover this grimoire before its owner does. I thought it was safe but have since learned they are after it once more. The information you seek for the temple location of the protective spell is inside the book. Think of that as a gift. You’re welcome.”

  “Thanks,” Sophia said.

  “It will need to remain in your protection for the long term, and I expect you to protect it better than you did the reset point,” Papa Creola instructed.

  “I contend that it served a valuable purpose even though it was destroyed,” Sophia argued, remembering how going back in time helped Hiker to start moving forward with the Ainsley situation.

  “Regardless,” Papa Creola said dismissively.

  “So, this owner?” Sophia asked, preparing herself for no answer to her question.

  “She goes by many names,” he answered to her surprise.

  “She?” Sophia questioned.

  “Yes, and she goes by many names such as Ježibaba, Syöjätär, and Mama Padurii, but you know her probably by the name—”