by Sarah Noffke
Adler’s attention was mostly on the tablet in his hand. He squinted at it and looked up absentmindedly. “What? Yes, it’s fine. The girl is not a concern for us.”
“But you said her magic levels were unprecedented,” Decar said, his light eyes flicking in the direction of the tablet, although from across the room he couldn’t see much.
Adler switched off the tablet and buried it under the papers again. Warriors weren’t given access to the same information as the Councilors, which was for the best. That allowed them to focus on their missions and left the Councilors the burden of information. This was the way the balance had been set up, and it had worked for centuries.
“The girl’s magic is a momentary anomaly,” Adler stated, his eyes swiveling to the dragon, still panting by the fire. Indikos’ wings unfurled and beat for a moment, fanning the fire and sending a blast of heat and sparks through the large study.
Decar popped his head out the window again, and Adler shielded his face from the surge of heat. When Indikos settled his wings, Decar dared to pull his head back into the room. He studied the dragon with annoyance and then looked at his brother.
“How do you know this Olivia Beaufont won’t be an issue?” Decar asked. “You remember how she was before?”
Adler picked through the papers on his desk, looking for a specific report. “She was only a child then and hurt by her parents’ deaths. She made a few accusations, but in the end, she left without incident.”
“But she’s back now, and a Warrior,” Decar stated. “She’s in a position of power.”
Adler released a strange smile, holding up the paper he’d been looking for. “Ms. Beaufont may be one of the Seven, but power is relative.”
“What’s that?” Decar asked, striding over to the desk to get a closer look.
Adler didn’t say another word, simply handed the report to his brother.
Something sparked in Decar’s eyes as he looked up. “You’re going to assign her this case?” He laughed. “That will keep her busy for weeks, especially with you requiring that she train while working.”
Adler nodded victoriously. He picked up another report and handed it over. “And when she’s done with that, the Councilors will assign her this. This is what I wanted to work on tonight.”
Decar took it and scanned the page, laughing again. “That’s brilliant.”
“It will keep her busy and out of harm’s way,” Adler said proudly. “See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“I wasn’t really concerned about the girl,” Decar stated. “She is untrained, unaccustomed to our lifestyle, and lacking a proper filter. I just didn’t want her hampering things.”
“And I told you not to worry, Brother,” Adler said simply. “We were required to fill the open position of Warrior. I would have been happy to replace the Beaufonts, but this is almost better. Two amateurs have joined the Seven. We really couldn’t have asked for more.”
“So what do we do now?” Decar asked, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the sweat off his brow.
“’Do?’” Adler asked. “We don’t need to do anything.”
He glanced at his small dragon. Adler had acquired him during his travels in India from a merchant who didn’t understand that the serpent’s egg he had was nothing of the such. Six months later, when Indikos hatched, Adler finally affirmed he was the owner of a rare miniature dragon, one with unique powers like the magician’s. For a decade he’d been his most faithful companion, showing a devotion that most never knew. If only everyone in the Seven showed such loyalty, Adler often thought.
“So you suspect things will go undisturbed from here on out?” Decar asked skeptically. “Because you’ve had that presumption before.”
The insinuation hung heavy in the air, but Adler dismissed it with a wave of his hand. He strode to a decanter of brandy beside the couch and poured two glasses. Handing the first to his brother, he kept the second for himself. “Don’t worry, Decar. I believe the House of Seven has reached a new pinnacle. Gone are the days where we have to worry. Going forward, the House will return to normal, serving to protect magic as it should have been doing from the very beginning.”
Decar lifted his glass and clinked it against his brother’s before taking a sip, strangely enjoying the extra warmth it created in his body.
Chapter Thirteen
The smell of coffee didn’t bring the same warmth it usually did as Liv raised the full mug to her lips. She held it away before taking a sip, the aroma making her stomach turn.
Usually, Liv didn’t drink coffee, but circumstances required it. She’d returned home from the House of Seven and found it impossible to sleep. For hours she’d tossed and turned, seeing strange bright lights like fireworks when she closed her eyes. It wasn’t until three in the morning that the shocking display had stopped jolting her awake.
When her alarm clock went off at six, she nearly threw it across her apartment. Exhausted and with a dull buzzing in her ears, Liv had pulled herself from the bed, showered, and put on a fresh set of clothes before going down to open the repair shop, remarkably on time.
No one ever showed up at seven in the morning to have their toasters or vacuum cleaners repaired, but John wouldn’t listen to reason. He’d always insisted that the shop be opened early. Usually Liv didn’t mind, because she could use the extra hour or two before customers arrived to work on the projects that always seemed to pile up in the back.
On that particular morning, though, Liv could hardly find the energy to keep her head up. She tried holding the mug of steaming hot coffee to her mouth again, but the smell instantly made her stomach rumble with unease.
“You need sleep,” Plato observed from beside her on the workbench.
“You’re right,” she said flatly, setting down the cup of coffee. “You watch the shop. I’ll take a nap in the back. If anyone needs anything, tell them that you’re a talking cat and I’m a magician who was up all night trying to make sense of my new, strange life. Cool?”
Plato pretended he hadn’t heard Liv and angled his head in the direction of her hand, which was tapping the mug still in front of her. “Maybe the ring will make more sense to you in the daylight. You could try studying it while the shop is quiet.”
Liv looked down at the ring, which was the strange object Sophia had passed to her from Ian. Her mother’s wedding ring, an heirloom that had been passed down in the Beaufont family for ages—but that didn’t explain why Ian had told Sophia to give it to Liv if anything ever happened to him.
The ring was a monstrosity, but Liv had decided to wear it, not trusting leaving it hidden somewhere in her apartment. The center diamond was giant at approximately five carats, and round cut. Around the main gem were fourteen smaller diamonds of various colors, lights and darks of blue, green, red, yellow, orange, purple, and even black.
The band was platinum, and carved on the inside were the words, Together we are strong and balanced.
Liv searched the workbench for the magnifying glasses John often wore for small repairs. Finding them, she slipped them on and took a closer look at the ring. The craftsmanship was incredible—not that Liv had studied many gems, but she could tell immediately that the diamonds were of the highest quality. And the band didn’t have a single scratch on it.
“This must be protected by magic,” she muttered, turning the ring around and looking for anything that would explain why her brother wanted her to have it. Frustrated, she pulled off the glasses.
“I don’t get it,” she said to Plato. “Was Ian telling me not to waste my youth alone and that I should get married?”
Plato shook his head, squinting at the ring between Liv’s fingertips. “I don’t think so, but I strongly suspect he’s left you a clue.”
Liv dropped her hand and let out a soft growl of frustration. “But why? Why would I need a clue unless there’s some mystery to be solved?”
The toaster next to her on the workstation shook. Thinking the big ea
rthquake was finally coming, Liv shot up and grabbed Plato, bolting for the doorway that divided the storefront from the back.
She looked around tentatively, waiting for the major tremor. When nothing happened, she looked down at Plato in confusion.
“What exactly are you doing?” he asked dryly.
“I’m saving your ass from an earthquake,” she explained, glancing at the toaster and the other objects on the work table that were still vibrating.
“What earthquake?” Plato asked.
Liv looked around, noting that the appliances lining the dusty shelves weren’t vibrating like those on the workbench. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Plato wiggled his way out of her grasp and hopped to the floor, springing swiftly back up onto the worktable.
“Might I suggest that the trembling is less a result of tectonic plates shifting and more to do with a certain magician who needs to learn to control her magic?” he said boldly.
Liv blinked dully at the objects. “Me? I’m the one doing that?”
Plato nodded. “Just like last night when you changed your name on the Tree of Seven or made the flames flare in the torches.”
“Are you sure that was me?” Liv asked.
Plato simply gave her a look that said, “Come on, get real.”
“Well, how do I get it to stop?” Liv asked as the toaster rattled even harder and fell over on its side.
Plato laid down, putting his head on his paws. “Get trained. But for now, you better take care of that customer.”
Liv’s eyes widened in shock and her gaze flew to the entrance, where a figure stood on the other side. His back was to the door, and he pressed it open with his rear end since he was carrying a large printer in both hands.
Liv darted forward, sweeping the various tools off the workbench and onto the floor where they continued to bounce around as if possessed.
Shane, a semi-regular, startled when the tools clattered to the floor, spinning around as he entered.
“What was that?” he asked, looking around for the cause of the noise.
Liv slammed both hands down on the toaster, which was jumping around wildly. “Oh, nothing. The dumb cat just knocked over my tools.”
Plato cracked an eye open at her briefly and nestled more into a sleeping position.
Shane shook his head, his stringy black hair hitting him in the face. He wore his usual Metallica shirt and a silver loop in his right ear. A decade earlier he’d been a touring rockstar with various well-known bands, playing bass. Presently, he owned the pawn shop down the way.
“That’s why you shouldn’t have animals in the shop,” Shane stated, giving the cat a disapproving look. “Besides, many people are allergic to animals.”
“Yeah, but he’s sort of my comfort animal, so I must have him here with me,” Liv replied, pinning the toaster with her elbows. Like a possessed weasel, it was still trying to escape her clutches. On the ground, the tools continued to bounce around, clanging gently.
Shane chuckled. “I don’t believe in all that comfort animal mumbo jumbo. I just take drugs, and I feel fine.”
“Drugs. I’ll remember that,” Liv said tersely. “Thanks.”
Shane peered over the side of the workbench to where the tools were dancing. “What’s going on over there? You have another cat?”
“Rats,” Liv stated. “Get off your ass, Plato, and take care of the vermin already.”
Plato lifted his head and yawned before setting it back down again.
“Damn cats are worthless,” Shane stated. “My Doberman would have eaten those mice for breakfast already.”
Having had enough of this conversation, Plato stretched into a standing position, arching his back. He hopped off the workbench and disappeared behind a rack of tools.
“So, you have something for me to repair?” Liv asked, picking up the toaster, which was growing antsier with what felt like combustible energy by the minute.
“Yeah, some punk sold me this,” Shane said, sliding the printer onto the table. “It worked for all of two minutes, but the moment the guy was gone, it stopped working. He’s not coming back to get it, and I figured John or you might be able to fix it.”
Liv held the toaster to her chest like it was a cuddly teddy bear. “Yeah, just leave it here, and I’ll take a look at it.”
Shane eyed her as she hugged the toaster and shook his head. “Actually, I wanted to show you something. I think the board is fried, but there’s also a problem with the rollers. That was why it kept jamming on me when I first used it.”
Liv looked over the table as Shane opened a panel.
“You see, in there.” Shane pointed. “I think there’s something lodged between the rollers.”
“Yep, I see it,” Liv said quickly. “I’ll take care of it. No worries.”
“You can’t see it from over there,” Shane stated. “Actually, if you hold open this panel, I can try to get my fingers in there.”
The tools on the ground banged louder than before in a protest of sorts.
“Don’t worry about it!” Liv yelled, her exasperation erupting, making several appliances fall off the shelves. Dust and small parts scattered from the impact.
Shane shielded his face from the minor explosion, jumping back.
Liv cringed, holding the toaster even tighter.
“What the hell was that?” Shane asked, looking at the appliances littering the ground.
“I think we’re getting tremors,” Liv insisted in a rush.
Shane’s brow wrinkled. He withdrew his phone, pulling up an app. “I didn’t get any notifications, and usually I do if they are in my area.”
“They are small,” Liv argued.
“That mixer flew off the shelf,” Shane said, pointing. “And look at that wrench!” He pointed to the tools hopping around on the concrete floor.
“Yeah, I agree that you should probably get back to your shop to see if everything is okay,” Liv stated, ushering Shane to the door.
He gave her a confused expression, as if he’d misheard her. “I didn’t say anything about going back to my shop.”
“Didn’t you?” Liv asked. “I could have sworn that you said you were worried about how the earthquakes were affecting your place.”
Shane looked at his phone, which reported there had been no earthquakes. Then his confused expression changed to a relaxed one, like he was suddenly in a trance. “Yeah, you’re right. I should go back to my shop.”
“Exactly,” Liv agreed, pushing Shane out, the toaster still pressed to her chest. “I’ll look at the printer and call you when I have a repair estimate.”
“Printer?” Shane asked, looking over his shoulder. Seeing the electronic device he’d brought in, he nodded. “Right. Printer. That’s weird, I forgot all about it.”
The toaster finally broke free of Liv’s arms, leaping over her head. She jumped, grabbing it and yanking it back against her chest.
“What in the he—”
“Earthquake,” Liv said at once, cutting Shane off. “Get back to your shop. Nothing strange happening here.”
Again his perplexed expression dropped and he nodded dully. “Yes, you’re right.”
As Shane left, another set of appliances jumped off the shelves, bursting on the ground.
Plato peeked his head out from the far corner of the room, only his face visible. “Well, that was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
Liv opened a vintage trunk full of moving blankets and stuck the toaster inside, slamming the lid before it could escape. She sat on the trunk, bouncing from the movement of the toaster. “What am I going to do? Plato, can you train me how to use my magic?”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” Plato answered, looking at the bits and pieces bobbing around on the ground. “But I can tell you that you need to relax. The more upset you get, the harder it will be for you to control your magic.”
“How am I supposed to relax?” Liv asked. “The shop is a mess, and I think I just brain
washed a costumer.”
“Yes, that was quite impressive. Quick thinking.”
“I didn’t mean to do it!” Liv yelled. A jar of screws exploded, sending shards of glass in all directions. Plato ducked back under the shelf. Liv covered her face with her arms.
“Did I mention that you need to relax?” Plato asked. “Try meditating. If you don’t get your emotions under control things will just get worse, since they are tied closely to your magic.”
“Meditate?” That seemed like a very hard thing for Liv to do with so many panicked emotions running wild inside her.
“Either that or you can take a shot of whiskey,” Plato suggested.
“Whiskey?” Liv asked. “It’s early morning.”
“Alcohol dulls magical abilities, as well as having a depressant effect on emotions,” Plato explained.
Liv launched herself off the trunk, and the toaster nearly broke out. She didn’t pay it any attention as she pulled out the top drawer of a filing cabinet beside the workbench. Yanking out a bottle half-full of whiskey, Liv tugged the cork out with her teeth.
“Remind me that I need to buy John a new bottle of whiskey,” Liv stated, taking a drink while more appliances jumped from the shelves as if attempting suicide.
“Keep drinking, or it will be more than a bottle of whiskey you owe the poor man,” Plato suggested from his hiding place.
Liv pressed her eyes shut and continued to drink even though the whiskey burned her throat. She gulped, feeling the fire within her being smothered as the liquor hit her belly. Not until the bottle was empty did Liv stop drinking. She coughed, whiskey coming through her nose and burning her sinuses.
Looking around anxiously, Liv watched as the bits and bobs on the ground rolled around a couple of inches and then back the other direction, almost like a drunk staggering. Her head swam from the alcohol and she belched, entertained by the toaster knocking against the top of the trunk. All at once, the appliances went still.
Liv let out a giant sigh. “Finally,” she muttered, looking around at the mess.
