by Sarah Noffke
She hadn’t allowed herself to think about her mother as a Warrior or how beautiful she always looked after returning from missions, her long, flowing blonde hair a gorgeous chaotic mess and her cheeks flushed from the night air. But even more memorable to Liv was the way her father’s stressed face changed to relief when Guinevere Beaufont walked through the door, safe for another day. She was about to take her mother’s place as a Warrior. Ian’s place. Liv didn’t feel like she was good enough to be here. It didn’t feel like the role fit her, but she was damned if the Beaufont family would lose their standing in the Seven because of her.
This is for you, Mother, Liv thought, looking up at her brother. Clark seemed lost in thought as he punched several keys in front of him. When he was done, he gazed at Liv with anticipation.
“My codes have been entered,” Clark said, his voice clear and loud.
Around him, other Councilors muttered confirmation that they’d done the same.
A decade prior, the House of the Seven had done something risky, at least by her parent’s standards. They’d moved to magical tech, intertwining many of their security systems with technology fueled by magic. Her parents had said that it was dangerous to protect magicians using technology, which was why many had been resistant to register their magic when the change happened. Yet, Liv’s parents, as well as all who opposed the advancement, had been outvoted.
Probably every member in that chamber where Liv stood had a cell phone that looked completely normal but had features unique to magicians. For instance, before Liv had left the House and was stripped of her magic and anything magical, her phone could find lost objects, call people whose numbers she didn’t have, or appear in her hand simply by her intending it. And her phone never had to be charged, since it was powered by the ever-present source of magic. Liv had never been good at using all of the features, though, since it meant she had to have control over her magic. Many times her phone had ended up in someone else’s hands when she summoned it, or it found the wrong lost object.
“All codes but one have been entered,” Adler said, his light eyes cast low on the screen before him. He looked up at Liv, suddenly appearing much older with the lights above him creating shadows under his eyes. “Are you ready, Olivia Beaufont?”
Liv nodded, but then, catching the punishing glare from Clark, she said, “Yes, I am, Councilor Sinclair.”
Adler’s gaze flicked in the direction of his brother, who was next to Liv. They both appeared amused, but who could know why? For as long as Liv could remember, Adler had seemed to think he was in charge of the Seven, although the idea had always been that there was no real leader. Rather, there was a balance between Councilors and Warriors. Knowledge and strength. Strategy and courage. Consultants and soldiers.
“It has been five years since you’ve had your magic,” a woman with softly flowing black curls said from the other side of Clark. Raina Ludwig. She had kind eyes and a thoughtful expression on her pale face. “You might go through a bit of shock when we unlock it, just as a warning.”
Liv opened her mouth to thank the Councilor for the warning, but she was cut off.
“I’m certain Ms. Beaufont can handle the small bit of magic she’ll be given,” Bianca said, looking bored by all this.
Liv felt something stir next to her, and for a moment she thought Plato had dared to come out of the shadows for this. She nearly jumped backward when she realized the white tiger was near enough to touch. How had he sidled up next to her without her even noticing?
As if sensing her apprehension, the tiger looked up at her, his pale-greenish eyes communicating a message that strangely put her at ease. She reached out and stroked her hand over the top of his head, not realizing what she was doing until gasps from around the room paralyzed her. With her fingers still resting on the tiger’s head, she mechanically looked at the others, who were gaping with their eyes wide.
Apparently, petting the pretty magical kitty is off limits, Liv thought, pulling her hand to her side. The tiger didn’t growl or try to maul her. He simply brought his attention to where the Councilors were all regarding him with anticipation. When he simply blinked at them, they began to stir again, clicking on the devices before them and exchanging uncomfortable glances with one another.
Clark shook his head minutely at Liv, giving her a severe expression. Sensing an opportunity, Liv stretched her hand a few inches in the tiger’s direction, teasing her brother. Clark’s eyes bulged again, and he shook his head more dramatically.
Liv laughed to herself, pulling her hand back to her side. The tiger, which was nearly pressing against her now, hadn’t taken his gaze off the Councilors.
“Okay, here we are,” Adler said, recapturing everyone’s attention. He looked down at the screen in front of him, which Liv couldn’t see, as he read. “Olivia Beaufont, age twenty-two, second founding family of the House of Seven. You were born to Guinevere and Theodore Beaufont, the fourth of six children, making you eligible to be a Warrior. Your magic was locked five years ago on the fifteenth of August when you abdicated your place within your family.”
That had been one week after her parents’ death. It hadn’t been easy to leave her siblings, but she hadn’t thought twice about locking her magic. The tiger’s tail swiped the floor behind them, sending a whooshing breeze over Liv’s back.
“Do you consent to take back your magic, and with it, your role as one of seven Warriors in the House?” Adler asked. “This is not a position that you can walk away from once you consent unless you are taken by death or serious injury. Only once the next Beaufont child is of age are you eligible to step down. Do you understand the terms of this role? They are non-negotiable.”
Liv’s gaze flicked to Clark. His expression seemed to be saying a whole host of things, none of which Liv could decipher. Of course, he needed her to take the position as Warrior. Their family needed that. Maybe the Seven didn’t need her, but the House couldn’t operate with only six. It upset the balance.
Liv blocked all of that out and listened to that gentle ticking that was ever-present in her heart. It was constant, like her mother and father’s love. In her mind’s eye, she saw her mother and father the day before they failed to return, smiling at her with their unwavering love.
“We’ll be back in the morning. Please take care of your sister,” her mother had said to Liv, who was lying in her bed. “And make sure Clark doesn’t stay up too late.” Her mother rose from where she had been sitting and joined her husband, who was standing in the doorway. Liv’s room had been dark, the only light coming from the hallway.
“Oh, and remember, Olivia, that no matter what, we love you,” her father had said and pulled the door shut.
That was the last time she had seen them alive and all these years, she had known that she had let them down, but dealing with her grief had been the only thing she could handle. She’d fought for them when everyone said their deaths had been an accident—and now she was going to continue to fight for them, in a place where she could actually win. Without her magic, without the resources, she’d never find out the truth. All this time, she’d been running, but she was finally ready for the challenge she’d never thought she’d have the chance to embrace.
Liv lifted her chin, looking at each of the Councilors before gazing at her soon-to-be-fellow Warriors. “I understand the terms of my position and fully accept my role as a Warrior for the House of Seven.”
Chapter Nine
The silence wrapped around Liv, making her want to fidget or whistle or do something to end it. All of the Councilors had their heads down, studying the screens in front of them. The Warriors stood as stoically as ever, their hands pinned behind their backs and their chins held high. It was Clark who broke the strangeness of the moment, looking at Liv in awe. Was he confusing his expressions? Wasn’t he supposed to be giving her a frustrated glare? Maybe the strain of everything was finally getting to him.
“Is that correct?” a woman with spiky gray hair a
sked.
Liv studied the tree overhead, looking for the Councilor’s name. Hester DeVries.
“It must be a mistake,” Bianca said, but she didn’t look convinced as she gazed between her screen and Adler.
He coughed, squinting at his screen. “Yes, I’d say so too. Probably a result of the magic being locked for so long. We generally only do that to criminals for such an extended period of time and they usually don’t get their magic back, so we don’t have much data on how it responds when released.”
For two decades, the House of Seven had required all magicians to register their magic. Failure to do so resulted in fines and punishments, and in the end, delinquent magicians were forced to register their magic and then it was locked for good. Many rebellious magicians chose to fight to the death rather than comply. Once the House had the magician’s magic registered, the person was under the House’s control.
Liv looked at the thousands of sparkling lights overhead, all registered magicians whom the House “protected.” Many times, Liv had heard her father complain about the plea for social order. It had never seemed right to him, but like many things the Councilors had voted on, he’d been outnumbered.
“I’m not so sure,” Haro Takahashi stated, combing his hand over his chin. “That meter is exceptionally high for it to be a mistake.”
“We’ll just have to keep an eye on it,” Adler suggested. “I suspect it will normalize in a day or so. Probably just a surge.”
“Ummm…is there a problem with my magic?” Liv asked.
“Problem?” Adler asked, looking distracted. “Oh, no. We’re sure it’s nothing. Now, are you ready, Ms. Beaufont? In a moment, the Councilors will flip their switches, unlocking your magic.”
Flip switches? Her magic was controlled like a light? That seemed a little lackluster. She sort of thought there should have been a ceremony with dancers and an orchestra and maybe some fireworks. Her stomach rumbled, and Liv remembered that she’d forgotten to eat dinner.
I’d settle for a steak dinner, if there’s no celebratory ceremony, Liv thought. “I’m ready,” she said, eyeing Clark and trying to decipher the confused expression on his face.
“Councilors, on my mark,” Adler announced. “Three, two, one.”
In unison the Councilors flipped a switch on their consoles, making a series of clicking noises, then everyone in the domed room looked at Liv in anticipation. Her face flushed, not from magic but from embarrassment. What were they expecting to happen to her? Did a fancy gown appear on her small frame and her messy hair slick back into a more refined style, like the Warriors standing around her?
Liv glanced down at her stained jeans and the t-shirt under her hoodie. She still looked the same as she had moments prior, but more importantly, she didn’t feel any different.
“Ummm, are we sure it work—” Liv’s words cut off as a searing heat exploded in her chest. She clapped her hands to the site since it seemed like her heart was about to explode. It felt like the worst case of indigestion in the world. Was she having a heart attack? Something was definitely wrong. Liv stumbled backward, watching as the Warriors stared at her blankly. They didn’t appear the least bit concerned by the horror-struck look on her face or the fact that she was moments away from falling over dead.
Even the white tiger seemed impassive to her plight. He’d risen from a sitting position, but was simply looking at her with a calm expression. The room spun, turning all of the figures into blurs and making her stomach twist with unease.
“Remember to breathe,” a voice said from behind her in a low whisper.
Liv looked over her shoulder and made out Plato’s faint outline in the shadows. She forced oxygen into her lungs, an act that had never felt so incredibly difficult before. The air was hot and made her chest feel constricted, but when she blew out the breath, she got a small bit of relief. The room stopped spinning. The dizziness subsided and Liv smiled a little, realizing that she had taken back control. For a moment, she’d really expected to pass out.
Liv lifted her chin and wiped the sweat off her forehead, and choked on her next breath. The assault that hit her chest next left her no choice but to fall straight back. Her head careened into something hard, and her insides seared like they were being boiled by her blood. With her last strength, Liv tried to push back up to her feet. The attempt was useless, although she managed to roll over on her stomach. Her vision was half-obstructed by the floor under her face, which felt as heavy as lead. The last thing she remembered seeing was the white tiger, staring down at her like he might feast on her body. Then everything went black.
“It was too much at once,” a voice said too loudly. Didn’t this person know that Liv was trying to sleep? She couldn’t remember why she was asleep, but nothing felt more important right then than resting.
“It wasn’t too much,” a man argued. “She’s just undisciplined and unpracticed.”
Would they all shut up already? Liv couldn’t push the need to sleep away, but their voices were a definite deterrent.
“I’m not sure I could have handled that surge,” someone said in a muffled whisper nearby.
Liv noticed the cold floor under her. Her chest was raw and aching, as if it had been split open and freshly sewn back together. Reflexively, she clapped a hand to it and to her relief found it unscathed. A sudden cough made Liv’s eyes fly open, and she bolted to a sitting position.
“See, she’s completely fine,” Adler said, his arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t moved from his place behind the bench, but Clark had crouched on the floor next to Liv. Many of the Warriors were out of formation, but none were close. The white tiger stood on the other side of Liv, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. So he didn’t eat me when I passed out, she thought with relief.
“Are you all right?” Clark asked, thoughtfully rubbing Liv’s back when she coughed again and doubled over.
She nodded, although that was completely untrue. She’d never felt more not all right in her life. For a moment, she firmly believed a giant snake was slithering around inside her, pushing through her organs as it navigated. Something was definitely different about her body, like she’d grown a foot.
“I need to get up,” Liv heard herself say, although her voice strangely sounded different, although she wasn’t sure how.
Clark gave her an uncertain look but assisted her to her feet.
Liv swayed, noticing the various faces around the room regarding her with quiet curiosity. Nice. First I screamed incoherent things upon entering the chamber, and now they’ve all seen me pass out, Liv thought, trying to hide the mortification on her face.
The dull ache on the back of her head reminded her that she’d hit the floor when she’d passed out. She kept herself from rubbing her head to check the bump that was most definitely rising from the surface.
Liv avoided eye contact with the Warriors, who were all standing too close to her. The circle on the ground where she’d been standing caught her attention. It wasn’t dimmed like it had been before, but now was a light shade of blue. Liv’s eyes traveled up the tree, and her mouth popped open when she noticed that the Beaufont branch was now lit with both green and blue. Under the blue part of the branch was the name “Olivia.”
Her eyes continued to move upward to the ceiling, where the lights twinkled overhead. Somewhere above them was a new light that had been sparked when Liv’s magic was unlocked.
The lights somehow looked unusual to Liv. Then she blinked at the domed room and realized that it appeared different than before as well. Absentmindedly, Liv pulled up her hand, studying the back of it. Everything looked different.
A flapping sound pulled her attention away from her body. Perched on the far corner of the bench, next to Lorenzo Rosario, the man with the chiseled goatee, was a large black crow. Liv felt something brush by her and looked down as the white tiger moved into the center of the half-circle where the Warriors normally stood. They were still out of formation, but ushered by t
he movement of the white tiger, they moved back into place, not giving Liv their full attention anymore.
The crow cawed loudly, making Liv slam her hands to the sides of her head harder than she intended. She was then overwhelmed by the assault she’d done to her ears in an attempt to block out the loud noise. Again she was astonished by how different noises sounded. They were amplified. Crisper. Carrying color and emotions she’d never noticed before.
“Yes, I daresay we’ve spent too much time on this,” Adler murmured as if in reply to a complaint. “Ms. Beaufont, you’ve elected to do your own training, and you’ll need to start that right away. The Seven will meet again tomorrow night. Do not be late, as you were today.”
“I didn’t realize I was late,” Liv stated, her voice vibrating with new hostility. She wanted to cry and yell as if every emotion she’d ever felt was brimming to escape right then.
“You were,” Adler said matter-of-factly. “You are dismissed for the night. We will see you tomorrow at nine. Do try to start your training. It’s important.”
Liv wanted to tell the old albino that he could shove his clock up his tight ass and take his training advice and wrap it up in his wiry beard and wear it as a hat. Instead, she allowed Clark to tug her toward the mirrored door.
“Oh, and Olivia?” Adler said at her back.
She turned around, noticing that all eyes were on her.
“It’s nice to have you back,” the old magician said with a disingenuous smile.
Liv didn’t return the grin. She simply nodded and said, “Thanks, but note that my name is Liv, not Olivia.”
At the conclusion of her statement, the name under her blue branch was erased. Many in the room released sounds of astonishment, and then, as if there were an invisible pen, the letters “L-i-v” were etched into place.
