by Sarah Noffke
“You need no help in that arena,” Sophia quipped before she turned her attention back to the doctor. “I know this is going to sound weird, but we need your help with a friend of ours. He’s losing his mind off and on. I thought I fixed him a few times or that he’d snap out of it, but the problem appears to be much deeper and without his wits about him, well, there are bigger issues that could arise.”
Dr. Freud nodded. “Mental health is of supreme importance and can have devastating effects on families.” She looked Evan over. “How long has he been suffering?”
A laugh burst out of Sophia’s mouth. “Oh, that one is crazy all right, but he’s not the one we need help with. And the problem won’t affect just a family if it continues.”
“It won’t?” Dr. Freud asked.
“Well, when you think of family, think of everyone you’ve ever known,” Evan offered. “Like the whole world family.”
Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Sophia explained all about Subner. When she was done, Dr. Freud looked as bewildered as one of her patients in the waiting room. “So you want me to do mental counseling for Father Time’s assistant?”
“Well, and he’s also the Protector of Weapons, which is what we need him for,” Sophia stated.
Evan shook his head and elbowed Sophia. “You just use people, don’t you?”
“Okay, well, I guess this does seem important,” Dr. Freud said. “I’m okay with the fact that you interrupted my entire day for this, and I’ll agree to help.”
“Just you wait until you hear how much we’re going to interrupt your life,” Evan said with a laugh.
Chapter Fifty
“You want me to what?” Dr. Tiffannee Freud exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Telling the mortal that they needed their help to repair a schism in the personality of Father Time’s assistant went over pretty smoothly. However, when Sophia informed her that she’d have to marry Evan to get to the place where Subner was located, all of a sudden she was in shock.
Glancing at her hand, Sophia sighed. “Oh, good, you’re not already married.”
“I can’t marry him.” She pointed at Evan. “I don’t know him.”
Evan nodded. “A traditionalist. I approve. But let me give you the quick lowdown. I’m a Taurus. I loathe long walks on the beach, sand always gets everywhere. My dragon’s name is Coral and she won’t like you—she doesn’t like anyone. Well, except me and not all the time. I have a cyborg dog name NO10JO. He has to sleep in the bed, there’s no negotiations on that one, sweetheart.”
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” Dr. Freud stated.
“Of course not,” Sophia assured. “I’d never expect you to do something so horrible.”
“Hey now!” Evan complained. “This marriage thing is an honor.”
“It’s a technicality,” Sophia corrected, and glanced at the doctor. “You can’t enter Roya Lane unless you’re married to someone from a magical race and unfortunately, Evan is the best I can do. But after you help Subner, then we’ll annul the marriage and it will be like it never happened.”
“Why didn’t you spell me to marry him?” Dr. Freud asked.
Sophia nodded. This one was a critical thinker. “It wouldn’t have worked. The marriage has to be entered into by both parties willingly, otherwise you can’t enter Roya Lane. So if you’re willing, then I can perform the ceremony here and we can be on our way. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than we have to, especially after asking you to do something so awful.”
“I’m standing right here!” Evan protested.
“You can perform the ceremony?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, I got ordained online right before this in preparation,” Sophia stated.
Evan shook his head. “The modern world has abolished all that is holy.”
“Oh, because you had strong feelings on this subject before, huh?” Sophia asked.
“I’m technically Catholic and should be married in a church by a—”
“A wedding and a funeral today,” Sophia interrupted, pretending to be cheery. “What a momentous occasion.”
“Fine,” Evan acquiesced. “I’ll get married in a psychiatrist office to a woman I hardly know, but this isn’t exactly how I saw this day going.”
“But you saw it going this way?” Sophia questioned.
“Well, I try and keep an open mind about these things,” he spat.
Their banter seemed to be making Dr. Freud more comfortable, to Sophia’s relief. She smiled at her. “So, what do you think? Can you please help us?”
Dr. Freud seemed to consider her options and then nodded. “Okay, well, this seems like a very worthy cause and it’s not every day that I’m asked to help an important magical figure. I’ll do it!”
“Good choice,” Evan stated. “I’ll make you the happiest wife for like a whole hour or two. Then I’m kicking you to the curb, darling. This man can’t be tied down.”
Sophia gave the doctor a bland look. “I know, you’re shocked that he’s still single, right?”
Chapter Fifty-One
“Oh, good she didn’t combust!” Evan exclaimed when Doctor Tiffannee Freud stepped through the portal onto Roya Lane.
She halted and gave Evan a horrified expression. “Was that the risk is if it didn’t work?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think a mortal has survived it to tell the tale, so we have no clue.”
This did little to make Dr. Freud appear at ease. Apparently she wasn’t counting herself lucky that the whole thing worked and she was a rare mortal who got to stride down the magical road, lined with one-of-a-kind shops and filled with various magical races.
“I was confident there wouldn’t be any issues.” Sophia gave her a comforting smile.
The ceremony had taken less than a few minutes, no thanks to Evan wanting to recite his own vows which he obviously had written beforehand. They didn’t relate to the psychiatrist at all since they often included phrases like brown or blonde hair or insert description here. Still, Sophia’s online ordained status appeared to work and the two were in fact married. Evan had wanted to delay, saying that it wouldn’t be real unless they had a quick honeymoon, but when it appeared to be a tossup over who would put him in a headlock first, Sophia or Tiffannee, he let the whole thing go.
The mortal was understandably overwhelmed when she strode down Roya Lane. It didn’t help that the magical road seemed busier than usual, probably due to a crazy autumn sale that was going on across most of the shops.
The Rose Apothecary was having a buy-one-get-one-free sale on cauldrons, and Crying Cat Bakery was apparently giving away free samples.
“I want one!” Evan stated.
“Nothing in that store is free,” Sophia warned. “It always comes with a price, whether you realize it or not.”
“But we need a wedding cake,” he argued.
“You need a padded cell,” Sophia replied.
“I can arrange that,” Dr. Freud nodded at the notion.
Sophia flashed her a smile, seeing that she was more at ease and joking about her new husband.
“It’s this way.” Sophia led them toward the Fantastical Armory. Once inside, they found Papa Creola and Subner standing in the middle of the shop, no doubt waiting on them.
“You’re late,” Papa Creola said in a punishing tone, his arms crossed on his chest and a scowl on his face.
Sophia glanced sideways at Evan. “I think we should have stopped off at the bakery at this point since I’m in trouble for an appointment time I didn’t know about.”
Evan strode past her and over to a case full of knives and axes. “Our tardiness is all Pink Princess’s fault. She was lollygagging when I was trying to get the job that you assigned us done.”
“The more you live, the less you die,” Subner said in a mechanical voice.
“Oh, so he’s moved onto Janis Joplin lines?”
“Yes, after he said every single one of Bob Marley’s and ran out,” Papa C
reola droned on, his patience obviously at its lowest. “And I know that you all are late because of you, Evan.”
“Hey, when in Louisiana one needs to get a beignet,” Evan complained.
“Lead a life of greatness,” Subner quoted.
“That’s what I’m saying, my man!” Evan cheered, then leaned closer to the case and studied the various weapons. “How am I supposed to do that without stuffing a beignet in my face?”
“Sophia was under strict orders to be as efficient as possible—making quick work of her time,” Papa Creola told Evan.
“I get it, but when in Rome… And we did what you asked.” He held his arm out, presenting Dr. Tiffannee Freud.
“He gets that you weren’t in Rome, right?” Papa Creola asked Sophia.
“I’m not certain he knows what year it is,” Sophia joked.
“Why should I hold back now and sound mediocre just so I can sound mediocre twenty years from now?” Subner asked, a sincerely curious expression on his face like he was expecting one of them to answer him.
“Dude, I’d lay off the herbs, if you know what I mean,” Evan imparted.
“My business is to enjoy and have fun and why not, if in the end everything will end, right?” Subner stated, quite seriously.
“Amen, my brother,” Evan commented. “I can’t argue with you there.” He flashed a smile at Sophia. “Maybe this guy doesn’t need to be fixed after all. I like his attitude.”
“He needs to be fixed,” Papa Creola insisted.
Sophia nodded. “And it’s not his attitude. It’s the words and thoughts of Janis Joplin.”
“Being an intellectual creates a lot of questions and no answers,” Subner mused.
Dr. Freud had simply been observing, not saying anything up until then. “This is very interesting. What a fascinating disorder.”
“I’m one of those regular weird people,” Subner said in an airy voice.
“Can you help him?” Sophia asked in a hopeful voice.
“It’s hard to say,” Tiffannee answered. “It might take some time.”
“It will take roughly three days, eight hours and thirty five minutes,” Papa Creola stated dryly.
“Roughly,” Sophia joked with a laugh.
“You’re the Father of Time?” Dr. Freud asked in amazement.
“Yes,” he stated calmly. “And I’m not a patient man, so you should get started.”
“Don’t compromise yourself,” Subner stated. “You are all you’ve got.”
Dr. Freud nodded. “We will need a quiet place for me to start my full assessment.”
“You can destroy your day now worrying about tomorrow,” Subner imparted.
“You can use my office downstairs.” Papa Creola ignored his assistant and gestured at the door at the back of the shop.
“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” Subner stated dryly.
“That’s right,” the doctor said sensitively as she strode forward and led Subner toward the door to Papa Creola’s office.
“I just want to feel as much as I can, it’s what soul is all about,” he said with a dreamy expression on his face as they walked away.
“I’m gonna miss that guy,” Evan commented and pushed away from the glass counter.
“I’m not,” Papa Creola stated. “And you should go ahead and get that.” He pointed at Sophia’s cloak.
She gave him a confused expression. “Get what?”
“Your phone,” Papa Creola answered. “Hiker Wallace doesn’t know how to message you so that it activates the volume on your phone when it’s on silent.”
“I’m surprised he knows how to send a message,” Evan stated.
“He’s coming along.” Sophia retrieved the phone from her pocket. Then her eyes widened at the message from the leader of the Dragon Elite.
It read: Get back to the Gullington. We have an emergency.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“You’re so lucky to have me as a friend,” Evan remarked as he and Sophia hiked across the Expanse.
She sighed. “Although I’m certain that I’d disagree with you, why is it that you think that?”
“Because who else would marry someone for you?” he answered.
“Well, it’s so we can fix the Protector of Weapons, so that he can outfit the Dragon Elite with a proper weapon to fight an unknown evil so that we don’t die.”
He shrugged. “I get that it’s difficult for you to say thank you. You’re welcome anyway.”
Sophia hurried, worry buzzing in her chest over what could be wrong that Hiker pulled them both back to the Gullington. “I like to think that I have some pretty good friends who would marry a mortal to help out.”
“Yeah, but will they also later help you hide the body?” Evan challenged.
She shook her head. “Why would you need to do that?”
“Well, because our romance maybe turned bad,” Evan explained. “I mean, you saw that my wife strode off with another guy, right?”
“You mean Subner, who has lost his mind and is the reason that we recruited the doctor?”
“Don’t make excuses for them,” Evan stated.
“You’re very strange.”
“I’m a regular Casanova. When I love, I love deeply—passionately. That’s why I’m such a good friend.”
“You’re the friend who fills me with multiple regrets,” Sophia teased, grateful not to find the Castle on fire or any other noticeable dangers on the grounds of the Gullington.
She sped up, even more curious about what could be wrong if there wasn’t a battle going on there. Sophia half-suspected that more strangers might have come through the portal from the Great Library.
She rushed up the steps to the Castle and burst through the door, expecting to find a commotion in the entry way. There wasn’t. It was strangely quiet, but her enhanced senses told her that Hiker was in his office, thundering back and forth—worrying his way across the floors as he usually did when upset.
Sophia took the steps two at a time and did her best to keep up with Evan’s long strides. He gave her a mischievous glare, and she knew it had suddenly become a race to the finish.
Increasing her speed even more, Sophia bolted forward, but was reminded that she wasn’t playing with someone who fought fair. Evan pushed her into the railing at the landing to the stairs, took the lead, and rushed into Hiker’s office.
She darted in behind him, but Evan was already lounging on the sofa with his legs propped up and lying in Mama Jamba’s lap. She didn’t appear to care or much notice as she sketched something on a pad of paper. Wilder and Mahkah were stationed behind the sofa, their hands pinned behind their backs and astute expressions on their faces.
“Gosh, Sophia,” Evan complained. “Way to keep us waiting. I thought that our esteemed leader pressed the importance of this meeting.”
“Sorry, sir,” Sophia said to Hiker, and caught the look of stress on his face. “I got here as soon as I could.”
He nodded. “Evan, is that powdered sugar on your armor?”
Evan glanced down at his shirt and rubbed the stain before licking his finger. “Cocaine, sir. I had to drag Sophia out of this drug house in Baton Rouge.”
Hiker let out a breath, and to Sophia’s surprise nodded. “As long as you weren’t dawdling at a pastry shop again.”
“Sir, I would never.” Evan put his hand to his chest and looked offended. “I didn’t get a wedding cake after getting married although Sophia kept begging for us to stop.” He glanced back at Wilder. “This one and her sweets. Good thing she’s a magician or you’d have to buy her two airplane seats.”
“Can we focus?” Hiker growled.
Evan nodded. “Of course, sir. I’m sorry that Sophia keeps derailing this meeting.”
She rolled her eyes and focused on Hiker. “What is it, sir? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Pink Princess,” Evan remarked. “Hiker always sends messages saying that there’s an emergency when everything i
s all right.”
“I’ve become aware of a serious danger,” Hiker began. “And defeating them will require all your efforts.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
“A serious danger?” Evan sat up. “I’m not sure about my participation, sir. I’m a married man now and need to think about my wife.”
“There are other dangers lurking very close,” Wilder said, a mock menace in his voice.
“Don’t throw your empty threats at me,” Evan spat. “What if something happened to me? How would my wife deal?”
“Probably with a party,” Wilder replied.
Hiker didn’t appear too keen to cut off the banter, having halted his pacing in front of the Elite Globe. When he was quiet for a long moment and the guys had stopped teasing each other briefly, Sophia dared to try and get the leader of the Dragon Elite’s attention.
“Sir,” she began, “When you’re ready, will you please elaborate on what we’ll be facing? Or is this the unknown evil that we don’t know anything about?”
He spun around. “No, I don’t believe it’s that. For one, the armor isn’t ready, right?”
“No, I think it will be a while for that much armor,” Sophia answered.
Hiker nodded. “That’s what I thought. And you all also don’t have the weapon you’ll need from Subner.”
“It will be at least three days for that,” Sophia imparted.
“And eight hours and thirty five minutes, if you were listening to Father Time, like me,” Evan teased.
Hiker ignored the quip. “I don’t think that this evil will present itself until you have what you need for the battle. Too many powerful and all-knowing entities have presided over the events for it to come up before you’re ready.”
“But being prepared won’t guarantee success,” Mama Jamba advised, continuing to sketch out something on the pad of paper.
“Obviously.” Hiker ran his hands through his hair. “Mama, what can you offer on these strange monsters who have sprung up in the Mediterranean Sea?”
“They aren’t my creations,” she stated, seeming to be shading her drawing with the side of a pencil.
