“Oh, I don’t worry about you, Soph. Well, I do, but not like I should. Usually, I worry about you bruising your hand on some scoundrel’s dumb face. But yeah, give the House hell. Set them straight, then save the world.”
Sophia smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. After all that is taken care of, I’ll boot the Rogue Riders out of the elfin land so we can all have some peace back.”
“If anyone can do it, it will be you.” Liv added, “I believe in you. Familia Est Sempiternum.”
Chapter Eighty-Two
For the time being, Sophia tried not to think about the council at the House of Fourteen and all the headaches they intended to give her. She understood from an outsider’s perspective how the Rogue Riders muddied things for dragonriders.
Before this, Nevin Goosemen had put a lot of effort into campaigning against the Dragon Elite. Many mortals had bought into the fear, which created all sorts of problems for the dragonriders. They’d thankfully recovered from that only to wake up to find the demon dragons truly giving them real issues globally.
Sophia would still contend that Nevin Goosemen was wrong. Demon dragons weren’t supposed to be eliminated en masse. She had to believe there was a balance to it all. She simply had to figure out how to obtain it, and that involved putting some new high-and-mighty dragonriders who were drunk on power in their place. Then all would be right in the world—or at least for a little while.
Sophia crawled through the small door of the Official Brownie Headquarters to find Ticker, Mortimer’s son sitting on the floor seemingly playing a game.
“Hi, Ticker.” Sophia offered the little Brownie a smile.
He didn’t glance up from whatever rested between his straddled legs. Sophia approached and looked over his shoulder to see what had his attention.
It was a map—an incredibly complicated one with flaps that folded out like an accordion and lots of moving pieces like a pop-up book. There were small scrunched-up handwritten notes all over, written sideways, and upside-down and sometimes in spirals. The whole thing was one shade of blue.
Sophia had no idea what she was looking at but got the distinct impression that it was essential and held a ton of information. The map felt old…ancient. It also felt powerful—a unique brand of magic radiated off it. She didn’t suspect it was something she’d know how to read easily, maybe not at all.
The more she looked at the words, the more she realized they weren’t ones she recognized. Could it be written in a different language? The Dragon Elite sometimes had things automatically translated for them, but that was usually when hearing speech or speaking. It didn’t always work on different magical races since their governance was in the mortal world. After careful reflection, Sophia was certain this was the unique language of the Brownies.
“What is this, Ticker?” Sophia knelt next to the little Brownie.
He glanced up then, not at all surprised to find her there although he hadn’t acknowledged her until then. “Mops pap!”
Sophia blinked around at the office. “Your Pops? His map? Where is Mortimer?” Then Sophia realized that the space was unusually dark and quiet. Usually, Pricilla buzzed around while toting her youngest child, and Mortimer often bounced a ball against his office wall while he thought through the many problems of the Brownie world.
“Top’s phere.” Ticker set his bony finger on a box in the middle of the map with lots of different circles inside it. There was tiny writing inside each of the small rings that Sophia would need a microscope to read.
“And your mom?” Sophia inquired.
“Hith wim,” Ticker answered.
Sophia nodded. She always had to readjust how she processed when listening to Ticker. “With him?”
He nodded.
“Are they okay?” Sophia experienced a strange foreboding feeling regarding all this.
The little Brownie pulled on one of his long ears and made it tug down over a large eye. “Lost mikely. Naybe mot. Sill wee.”
“What’s going on, Ticker?”
“Drownie biscussions,” he answered. “Mew fad.”
Sophia studied the map and the area that Ticker had indicated. The more she studied it, the more her eyes sort of blurred like she was looking at one of those Magic Eye images where it only worked if you didn’t focus and instead allowed everything to blur together. Only then would the actual picture show up. While doing this, Sophia could have sworn that an image swam to the surface, but only for a second. She gasped. “Wait, is that place a meeting place of sorts?”
“Crownie Bonvention,” Ticker answered. “Hempers tot!”
“Are you saying that Mortimer and Pricilla are at a meeting with Brownies and things aren’t good? Like, the other Brownies are mad about stuff?”
He nodded, and his ears flopped around. “Roalition cules. Soring btuff.”
“Coalition rules,” Sophia mused and looked off as she thought. “So there must be problems and pushback from the Brownie union. Poor Mortimer. I bet he’s under so much stress, trying to quell the concerns of all the Brownies while getting the jobs done for mortals.”
Ticker nodded and pulled at the tuft of hair on the top of his head. “Be hald.”
Sophia couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I hope that things get resolved. If anyone can do it, it’s your pops.” She pointed at the map that still didn’t make complete sense but noticed that figures moved on it, like the Elite globe at the Gullington that showed the placement of the dragonriders. “That map, does it belong to Mortimer?”
Ticker nodded and pointed at himself proudly. “Gops pave. Se mupervise.”
Sophia grinned at the little guy and affectionately patted him on the shoulder. “Mortimer must trust you an awful lot to leave you in charge. You’re a very responsible Brownie. Although I realize you have a lot of work to do, I came here because I needed something that apparently only the Brownies have.”
Ticker’s eyes brightened with excitement. “He melp! He melp!”
“Thanks, Ticker. I could use your help. I’m glad you were here. I need the Brownies’ special chocolate nibs, rainbow sprinkles, and grenache. Do you have that or know where I can get it?”
The magical creature held out his small hands cupped together and his large eyes blinked. A moment later, a box neatly wrapped in shiny blue paper with a large white bow appeared in the palm of his hand. He held it up proudly, then handed it to her. “Sere Hophia.”
“Wow, thanks. That was fast.” Sophia took the box, which was heavier than she expected for its size. She was impressed by the little Brownie who seemed so childlike, but she also knew from experience was mature and responsible. The small house elves were grownup from an early age.
In Bermuda’s Magical Creatures book, she stated this was because they were so aligned with good and chose to serve only morally decent mortals. This was probably conjecture, but it made sense to Sophia when thinking of all the havoc the demon dragonriders had caused in such a short period of time.
“If there’s anything I can do to return the favor, then you know I’m always happy to help,” Sophia stretched to a standing position, but not all the way since the ceilings were Brownie-sized in the official headquarters.