The Passionate Delegate

by Sarah Noffke

  A scream shot out of her mouth, making a flock of birds rise from the trees. A man who strangely looked just like Jeb was floating in the water beside her, his eyes open and his mouth full of disgusting bugs. He was missing a leg or two, and maybe an arm, Liv noticed as she pushed the boat away, kicking after it. When she was a good distance away, she clambered over the side, grateful that she didn’t capsize it.

  Panting from adrenaline and fear, she stared over the edge of the boat at the man floating dead in the swamp.

  Beside her, Plato appeared. “This is probably a bad time…”

  Liv gave him a furious stare, conscious that she had all sorts of plant life dripping from her body and that she was soaked through. “What?”

  He gave her his best Cheshire Cat grin. “You’ve got something in your hair.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Liv pulled a clump of soggy plants from the pocket of her cape and tossed it over the side of the boat. Her hair was a disaster, she smelled like rotting fish, and she had been drifting through the swamp for another ten minutes, unable to locate the alligator known as Smeg.

  The sun would be going down soon. They were running out of time. And the longer Al was gone, the more Liv worried about his fate. He must be really frightened.

  “Who killed Jeb?” Liv asked. “Was it Spencer?”

  “And when?” Plato asked. “That body looks to have been dead for a while, but you just spoke to him earlier today.”

  “Good point,” Liv said, musing on the idea. “There is definitely something fishy going on here.”

  “I’m considering morphing into another form and throwing you overboard,” Plato threatened.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Liv fired back, but bolted upright with a sudden realization. “Hey, Plato. You want to help, right?”

  “Not really,” he answered. “It’s sort of against my DNA, but sometimes I accidentally do it, or that’s how you perceive it.”

  “Well, are you okay with me using you for bait?”

  Plato’s head snapped to the side, his green eyes bulging. “Say what?”

  Liv leaned down and picked the feline up. “Just tell me if this isn’t okay.”

  He grunted mildly. “It’s a bit disgraceful, but I guess.”

  “I would have preferred it if you had put up a bit more of a fight about this,” Liv said, lowering the lynx toward the surface of the water.

  “Don’t you know that I know that?” Plato said.

  “And you refuse to give me satisfaction,” Liv realized.

  “Exactly,” he said as Liv dipped his lower half under the murky water, holding it there for a few minutes.

  “I guess you’re overdue for a bath.” She smiled at him, enjoying the opportunity to turn the tables.

  “I just had a bath,” he argued.

  “While I was battling suits of armor,” she refuted. “Why in the world did you pick that as a time to bathe and sleep rather than just disappearing as usual?”

  “Well, I didn’t feel any danger from Rooster, firstly,” he explained. “And I’m starting to regret hiding at every instance.”

  “Really?” Liv asked.

  “Really,” he answered. “I don’t get to share certain moments, and that used to not bother me, but now it’s starting to get to me.”

  “Why?” Liv asked, skeptically.

  Plato turned his head to the side, not appearing like he wanted to answer the question.

  “Is this a part of the bigger secret?” Liv asked.

  “Yeah, maybe, but I think we should focus more on the fact that something is swimming and more importantly quickly swimming my way, about to eat my butt,” Plato said, his voice frantic.

  “Just let me know when I’m almost out of time, and I’ll pull you up,” Liv said.

  “The time is upon us!” Plato yelled.

  Liv jerked him into the air, holding him high just as Smeg jumped, chomping after the dangling tail.

  Liv tossed the lynx into the safety of the boat and leaned forward. “So, Smeg, are you ready to have a long convo?”

  The alligator paddled around, facing her. “Absolutely. What are we talking about?”

  “Sure, I was thinking I could tell you about the plot of a video game I played recently,” Liv began.

  “No!” Smeg yelled. “I’ll just lead you to the SandMan. Please don’t put me through that torture.”

  “Oh, but there’s this one guy, and he learns he has powers of the turkey but knows he can do better, so he goes to this other guy, who is going to help him if he can prove his worth through—”

  “Please, no!” Smeg yelled. “I want real conversation. I will do anything to avoid talking about video game storylines.”

  “Sounds good,” Liv stated. “How about you tell me the whereabouts of the SandMan, then we can talk about politics and religion and whatever else you’d like.”

  Happily, the alligator swam beside the boat, leading the way. “This sounds perfect to me, Liv. What do you think about global warming? I for one have noticed some changes, but I’ve been around for a very long time, so how am I to know?”

  Chapter Thirty

  Smeg led them through veils of plants, down inlets that Liv was sure the boat couldn’t navigate, and into a forest unlike any she’d ever experienced.

  The trees seemed to sway. Several times she noticed something move at the corner of her vision. Every time she turned, though, there was nothing there. Well, there were trees and water and plants and gross bugs, but nothing out of the ordinary.

  She could have sworn she’d seen faces on the trees. Several times, she thought she caught one grinning at her, but after closer inspection, the trunk just had regular knobs and branches that in the light looked like a face.

  “He’s just past this merman’s house,” Smeg said, indicating with his snout what Liv thought was a beaver’s dam.

  “That’s a merman’s house?” Liv asked, realizing that even as a magician, she knew little about the world. It wasn’t what it seemed, and she had much to learn.

  “Yes, but he isn’t home right now,” Smeg began. “His name is Cyrus, and he works as a chef at a local seafood place in town.”

  “The commute must be a bitch,” Liv observed, realizing they were at least an hour from the dock where they had started.

  “Oh, mermen are incredibly fast swimmers. It doesn’t take him long to get home, which could be bad for you if he returns while you’re here. He doesn’t take kindly to strangers in his territory, which is why he lives out here.”

  “But the SandMan is out here,” Liv pointed out.

  “Yes, but he keeps to himself, and then there’s that whole being invincible thing,” Smeg explained. “Cyrus was real angry when the SandMan took up residence here. He threw an entire arsenal of tridents at him, but it did zero good. Then he gave up. But he might be getting mad again since he says all his customers keep falling asleep.”

  This didn’t make Liv feel any more confident about stopping Zeno Dutillet. She pulled from her pocket the story Papa Creola had given her. It was, of course, soaked through from her fall into the swamp. The writing was smudged so badly that she could hardly make out the words.

  “Oh no,” Liv said, feeling suddenly hopeless. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, you do have Father Time on speed dial,” Plato suggested.

  Liv gave him a curious look. “Did you just make a reference from 1990?”

  “I’m timeless, what can I say?” he said proudly.

  Liv pulled her phone from her pocket, grateful she had service and that the device was waterproof, thanks to Alicia’s magic tech skills. There were already a few messages from Papa Creola with different timestamps. She should have known.

  They read:

  Don’t fall into the swamp 5:03 pm

  Okay, you fell into the swamp. Not good. 5:20 pm

  You’re going to need a new story. 5:21 pm

  Liv typed out a message to him. Can you please send me
one?

  Before she could send it, he sent a message.

  No. 5:55 pm

  With a loud sigh, she rolled her eyes.

  Simply make up your own bedtime story to put Zeno Dutillet to sleep. 5:55 pm

  Liv just stared at the screen, knowing there had to be more.

  But it has to be a new story. One that has never been told before. Ever. 5:55 pm

  And there it was, she thought. Of course, she had to make the SandMan sit and listen to her tell a tale, and it needed to be one that no one had ever heard before.

  Papa Creola sent another message.

  I’ll be in touch after you put him to sleep. 5:56 pm

  Liv’s chest lightened with hope. That had to mean that she would be successful.

  Another message came through.

  Well, if you put him to sleep. Those events aren’t clear. 5:56 pm

  She deflated again, giving Plato a sideways look. “Any bright ideas on new stories that have never been told before?”

  “Well, how about one where everyone mysteriously disappears on a battlecruiser, and these two misfits have to find them? Oh, wait. That one won’t work. How about one about a girl with blue hair who learns she’s half-mortal and half-witch? Never mind. I think I’ve read that one too.” He shrugged. “I think there’s only one viable option.”

  “I quit this Warrior business and see if Cyrus will hire me to wash dishes at the seafood restaurant?” Liv asked.

  Plato shook his head. “The only story you can tell that no one has ever heard is yours.”

  “I’m supposed to tell Zeno Dutillet the story of my life?”

  “Well, I’ve been there for most of it, and there’s not another story quite like it,” Plato reasoned.

  “But that will take forever,” Liv stated.

  “Leave out the fluff,” Plato offered. “That’s the key to a good story. Oh, and you have to share all the gruesome details. The stuff you don’t like to think about.”

  “So I have to share my deepest, darkest secrets with the SandMan?” she asked in disbelief.

  Plato shrugged again, noncommittally. “If you want to put him to sleep.” A moment later, he added, “And you’ll need to remember the story in its entirety since that will be what will bind him to sleep.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to lose the story so no one can ever wake him again?” she questioned.

  Plato shook his head. “The story will only work to put him to sleep if it’s documented. All good bedtime stories eventually end up in a book.”

  Liv closed her eyes, thinking of her life, letting all the details spill into her consciousness. She smiled when she saw her parents, and she nearly cried when she saw herself leaving the House after their deaths. Something felt ready to bound out of her chest when she defeated Adler Sinclair, releasing mortals. It was only a minute, but during that time, she allowed the events of her life to play across her mind.

  With a strange, creative confidence she’d never known, fueled more by instinct than ever before, she held out her hand. A small leather-bound book appeared.

  It was compact and had no pictures, but it was full of stories that had never been told before.

  It was the story of Liv Beaufont’s life.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The alligator, leading the way, stopped without warning, making Liv have to circle around to where he was. He was looking at the trees overhead.

  “Why did we stop?” Liv asked.

  “We are here. The SandMan is up there,” Smeg explained.

  Liv glared up, squinting in the darkness. At first, she didn’t see anything but leaves and branches. Then the shadows arranged themselves just right so that she could make out the faint outline of a man lounging in a hammock slung between two trees.

  “Is he sleeping?” Liv wondered, but just then she heard a faint whistle from the figure. He reached back, pushing against the tree by his head, making the hammock sway more.

  When he pulled his hand back, Liv noticed that he had a small knife and was whittling something.

  “Do you think I could ask him to come down here so I can tell him my story?” Liv asked Plato.

  “I’m doubtful he’ll be so accommodating.”

  “Well, maybe I can shout it from here,” Liv suggested.

  “But bedtime stories are supposed to be told in a pleasant manner,” Plato stated. “Not shouted from a swamp boat.”

  Liv huffed. “Fine. I guess I’m climbing.”

  Plato bounded out of the boat gracefully, landing on a limb of a tree. In a matter of seconds, he was up the large cypress. After a moment, he glanced down at Liv. “Are you coming?”

  She nodded, wishing she had the agility of a cat. That gave her an idea, one that she hoped she wouldn’t come to regret.

  Pointing at herself, Liv muttered a very complicated incantation. If she got it wrong, she would forever be transformed.

  She shrank immediately. It felt like she’d suddenly been ground up, stuck into a coffee can, and had a tight lid stuck onto her. She wasn’t a cup of Joe, though. Liv had turned herself into a cat. An all-black one.

  Testing her legs, she jumped onto the side of the boat.

  Smeg popped out of the water, his eyes large. “Oh, yum!”

  Liv wanted to tell him to back off, but she didn’t have the ability to speak. That would require a stronger transfiguration. Instead, she bounded off the boat, finding her balance easily.

  Not as gracefully as Plato, she climbed the tree.

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Plato said, staring down at her with an amused expression.

  He should have been happy she couldn’t speak, Liv thought as she neared where Zeno Dutillet was swinging in his hammock, whistling loudly and whittling.

  She wasn’t far from him when the whistling stopped. He sat upright, staring over the side of the hammock. Now that she was closer, she noticed that he had skin the color of molasses and not a single wrinkle on his face.

  “Who goes there?” he called over the side of the hammock, his Southern accent making him sound like he was singing. “Those who show up unexpected aren’t welcome.”

  Liv realized then how genius it had been to transform into a cat. Zeno Dutillet couldn’t sense her entirely. That wasn’t going to last for long, though.

  She went unnoticed in her all-black form as she jumped onto the branch beside his hammock. Then she made the mistake of looking down. Liv didn’t realize how far she’d climbed. They were at least two stories up, the boat and Smeg floating in the growing darkness below.

  As she drew in a breath, she hoped the reverse transformation went smoothly. This time it felt like she’d been brewed, poured into a cup, and stirred. Coffee went through strange things, and Liv had no idea why transfigurations mirrored it so much. Curious, for sure.

  Zeno Dutillet’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Well, if it ain’t Olivia Beaufont. And here I thought it would be some unwanted visitor who would try to put me back to sleep. You know, you and I are related through distant cousins.”

  She settled cautiously onto the branch where she stood and smiled. “I didn’t know that. How have you been?”

  He stretched his arms overhead and yawned. “I’m fairly good. The merman leaves me alone, which is nice. And I’m finally getting my strength back. Each mortal that slips into forever sleep helps me get back to normal.”

  Liv nodded like she was interested in this bit of knowledge and slipped the small book out of her pocket.

  The smile on Zeno Dutillet’s face faded. “What you got there, Cousin Beaufont?”

  “Oh, this?” Liv said innocently. “It’s nothing.”

  The hammock began to rock as Zeno Dutillet kicked his legs back and forth. “And here I thought you came to keep me company.”

  “I did,” Liv argued. “I’m going to read you a story.” She cracked open the book, enjoying the scent of fresh pages. Her eyes widened at the first sentence on the page.

  “Once upon
a time, a girl who had the power to change everything was born. Whether she would was yet to be determined,” she read, her voice catching on the words. She’d thought of the story, but didn’t know how it would weave together. As she read, her throat caught from the poetry of the words of her story.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, Cousin Beaufont,” Zeno Dutillet said, swinging more furiously. The trees began to screech from the force of the hammock moving.

  “In every person’s life, there is that rare and distinct moment when they doubt their loyalties,” Liv continued reading, speeding through the words, but also trying to soak them in. This was her tale, and yet, she wanted to know how it ended. Would there be a happy ending? Would Liv Beaufont survive? Would she actually change everything for the better?

  “I’m afraid this is when I’ve got to take my leave,” Zeno Dutillet stated. “This family reunion is over.”

  He bounded out of the hammock, gracefully falling through the air. With a soft thud, he landed in a crouch in the boat below, making it sink momentarily.

  When Zeno Dutillet regained his balance, he glanced up, waving at Liv. “It’s been nice seeing you, Cousin Beaufont, but I’ve got to go. I hope you don’t mind if I borrow your boat.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Firstly, I do mind,” Liv yelled down at the SandMan. “And it’s not my boat.”

  He shrugged. “Well, I’d say I was gonna return it, but I’ve got no plans to do that.”

  Liv stood and peered down at Zeno Dutillet far below.

  “I really hope I don’t end up in the swamp again.” She held her breath and took the plunge.

  Her heart met her throat as she free-fell, not doing it quite as gracefully as her supposed cousin. She had to work to keep her hands pressed tight to her body since the wind seemed to want to make them flail around.

  Liv knew that if she ended up in the swamp again, the story of her life would be cut short and she’d be out of options. And then there was the very real option that Zeno would have the boat moved before her fall was complete. He appeared to be trying to get the boat running, but didn’t seem to understand how it worked.