“You’re either on the bus or off the bus,” he replied, this time in Ken Kesey’s words.
“Anyway,” Sophia drew out the word. “Papa Creola messaged me. Where is he?”
Subner took another hit off the hookah. “Always trust those searching for The Truth, never those who have found it.”
“Cool, so you’re going to be zero help. I’ve got a club you can join. It’s getting very full.”
“As Carl Jung said, ‘Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics,’” Subner imparted.
Thankfully, Papa Creola entered from the back door a moment later, carrying a small metal box that appeared very heavy based on the strained expression on his face. He set it down with a loud thud.
He didn’t appear to notice Sophia standing there with an irritated expression on her face.
“I’m here,” she said when he bent down to eye the box from a different angle.
“Ram Dass said, ‘Be here now,’” Subner advised in an airy voice.
Sophia tapped her foot. “Papa Creola, you messaged me.”
“I did,” he replied absentmindedly.
She pointed at the small metal box. “Is that the way to remove the mark on my soul?”
“War is over, if you want it,” Subner stated in the words of John Lennon.
She ignored him. “Papa?”
He glanced up as if realizing she was there, or maybe had forgotten. “This? Oh, no. This is… Well, I can’t tell you.”
“That’s typical. Secrets.”
“Not a secret,” he countered. “I simply haven’t figured it out yet.”
Subner began to sway. “Your mind is like a parachute, it doesn’t work unless it’s open.”
“Is there a way to turn him off?” Sophia pointed at the owner of the Fantastical Armory.
Papa Creola shook his head. “No, but this pains him. He’s worse than usual today. Probably all the drugs.”
“He could try not doing them,” she offered.
“He can’t,” Papa Creola amended. “It’s part of who he is in this form.”
“If I’m free, it’s because I’m always running,” Subner stated.
“I think you should run,” Sophia quipped. “So you have a solution for me for this curse?”
Papa Creola shook his head. “No, unfortunately, I don’t.”
Sophia sighed. “That’s cute, because your message implied that you did.”
“I know where you can look to find a solution though.” Papa Creola continued to regard the metal box with speculation.
“It all depends on how we look at things, and not how they are in themselves,” Subner told them, his eyes closed.
Sophia ignored him. “Oh great. So not even a direct answer. Instead, a place to look for the answer. I love a good scavenger hunt.”
Papa Creola nodded as if she was serious. “Then you’ll love this.”
“Love is a friend set to music,” Subner quoted.
“How has Liv not murdered him yet?” Sophia pointed at the hippie sitting with the hookah.
Papa Creola blew out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s only a matter of time for us both. But then we’re hopeful we’ll be back as magicians or gnomes or something more tolerable.”
“Or fae,” she teased.
He shot her a repulsed expression. “Don’t joke like that. I’d throw myself in front of a bus. I have…”
“Not weird at all,” she stated.
Father Time shrugged. “Some things are worse than death. Fae, for one.”
Sophia nodded. “So where’s this place I get to look for my next clue?”
“Well, I do know that you need to find the original Door of Reflection to lift the mark from your soul,” Papa Creola advised.
“You mean the entrance to the Chamber of the Tree in the House of Fourteen?” she asked.
“Yes. It was created from a source, but I can’t tell you where.”
She lowered her chin. “Can’t?”
“Life is a journey, not a destination,” Subner sang, still swaying.
Papa Creola nodded in his assistant’s direction. “What he said.”
“Okay, so where’s the source?” Sophia asked.
Papa Creola simply gave her a look that said, “What do you think?”
“So you’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“I will tell you that while you currently can’t go to the Great Library, since it’s under construction—”
Sophia’s laughter cut him off. “You mean moved.”
“Whatever.” Papa Creola waved his hand dismissively at her. “There’s another place to find the source location of the Door of Reflection, and it’s one that you’re acquainted with.”
Sophia’s eyes widened with a sudden realization. “Of course! Another source for the Door of Reflection’s location would be the library in the House of Fourteen.”
She didn’t wait for confirmation from the elf known as Father Time before bounding for the door.
Of course, Subner had to have the last word and called at her back, “May every sunrise hold more promise and every sunset hold more peace.”
Chapter Ten
When she stepped through the portal into the House of Fourteen, Sophia felt the familiar sentiment of nostalgia wash over her as she entered her childhood home.
Most didn’t grow up in a hidden magical house disguised as a rundown palm reading shop off the Santa Monica pier, so most probably didn’t have the same ambivalent feelings as Sophia. It wasn’t that she didn’t value the place that she’d called home for the first part of her life, but rather that it was constantly changing, so how could she miss it?
The House of Fourteen wasn’t like a little cottage that one could return to and skip through memories as they strolled through the familiar rooms. The House was constantly changing depending on who was there and many other conditions, similar to the Gullington. It was a massive seven-story building with rooms that disappeared and reappeared and a magical chamber where only councilors and warriors could enter through the Door of Reflection. And the Dragon Elite, of course.
But in truth, Sophia mostly didn’t have too many sad feelings when returning to her home because it hadn’t ever felt like that to her. She’d lived in one place with her parents until they died. Then she, Ian, Reese, and Clark moved to another apartment inside the House of Fourteen.
Then her older sister and brother died, and she and Clark lived alone in a smaller place. If anything, it had been nice to move to Liv’s where there was no association with death and loss. When Sophia finally moved to the Gullington, it had been about growth and rebirth and starting a new life. So returning to the House of Fourteen was like stepping into an old life—one she outgrew long ago.
“What’s with the weird look in your eyes?” Liv asked as soon as Sophia crossed the hallway from the portal connected to the Castle.
Her sister was propped up against the wall, next to a painting of a warrior standing in a dark landscape with their hair blowing in the wind and a murderous expression on their face. Liv appeared like she had been casually waiting for Sophia to enter from the portal all along.