Chapter 7

A PRICE PAID, A PASSION PURSUED

The Fantastical Armory, Roya Lane, London, England, United Kingdom

Jack’s mouth fell open and his blue eyes shined bright with amazement and awe. Gen didn’t think he could look cuter than in that moment when he was face to face with Mama Jamba for the first time. She knew that he was in complete astonishment to be in front of the creator of everything. But more than that, he, like most, was surprised to find that she just looked like a regular old woman. She was a beautiful one and had a distinct charm about her, but she definitely was more ordinary than anyone would have expected.

“Y-Y-You’re Mother Nature?” Jack stuttered, fixing his jacket, although it was fine.

She smiled brightly. “Those who know me personally call me Mama Jamba.”

“It’s a pleasure and honor.” Jack held out his hand to her. “I can’t believe this…You’re a real…”

“Person,” Mama Jamba supplied, taking his hand, wringing it in her wrinkled one. “And yes, I’m a real person. Being a vine-covered tree creature was so boring. In the 1980s I took on this form and I quite like my hair so I haven’t changed. Not like Papa, who has regenerated a few times in the last century.”

She glanced over her shoulder, toward the front of the shop, in the direction of the oversized pink armchairs in front of the display window. “Dear, we have company. Get over here.”

Jack gave Gen a look of complete shock. His face accurately said, “I’m about to meet Father Time.”

She smiled, bumping into him playfully, trying to dispel his nerves.

Papa Creola pushed up out of his chair, holding a guitar and looking as handsome as ever in slacks and a button-up shirt. His hair was all silver and pressed back, framing his elegant features that were both strong and distinct.

He strode over, fiddling with the guitar, his attention mostly on the instrument. Not until he was standing next to Mama Jamba did he look up and smile at Gen. “Hey Time Traveler. You know, I’m glad that I had to regenerate in my efforts to try and put you back in the fifteenth century. I’ve been enjoying my artistic nature as a fairy.”

“Some of us aren’t as excited about becoming fairies,” Subner muttered. “Cutting off my wings was excruciatingly painful. And still, often I get the urge to ‘express myself.’”

Gen gave the grumpy guy a commiserate expression. She then glanced at Papa Creola who had his wings glamoured to not show since he kept his. “I’m glad that you’re seeing the bright side of what could have been viewed as a failure.”

He shrugged. “I needed a change.”

“And I think he’s quite handsome and this look suits him,” Mama Jamba said proudly, admiring the man beside her.

“Umm…what? Father Time is a fairy?” Jack asked, looking between Gen and Mother Nature.

Gen shook her head. “He’s a halfling in this version. Papa Creola is half-magician and half-fairy.”

Holding up the guitar, Father Time smiled brightly. “And I’ve been exploring the fairy side. I’m trying to learn how to play.”

“And it’s killing me,” Subner muttered, turning the page of his book.

Gen laughed, holding out a hand to the old man. “Jack, this is Papa Creola, also known as Father Time. He selflessly regenerated his form to try and put me back in my timeline. It didn’t work because I wasn’t meant to go back since my sister had taken my role as Founder and Warrior for the House of Fourteen.”

Jack shook his head. “Your life is very complicated…”

They all grinned, nodding.

Gen turned to Subner. “So, what do you say? Can you please help Jack to find the right weapon? If you instilled in him the love of swords, it seems that you are the perfect person to find the right one for him.”

Subner looked up, glaring at her. He seemed to consider her for a long moment. Then he sighed, shutting his book. “Fine, but only because then you’ll owe me.”

Gen stiffened. “What will I owe you?”

“You both will.” He pointed between Gen and Jack. “And it will be a favor that I’ll call in randomly and you’ll have to drop everything to fulfill, no questions asked.”

“Will it involve danger?” Jack asked, actually grinning hopefully.

“Without a doubt,” Subner answered.

“And it will be complicated and time-consuming?” Gen questioned.

The Protector of Weapons nodded.

Jack looked at Gen. “I’m in, if you’re willing.”

“Sounds good,” she replied. “Okay, so you’ll help us, Subner?”

He motioned to Jack. “Hold out your hands.”

The dragonrider did as he was told, a nervous look on his face.

Subner cut his gaze to Mama Jamba and Papa Creola. The three seemed to be having a silent conversation suddenly.

“Give him that one,” Mama Jamba said discreetly.

“But it requires several tasks,” Subner argued with uncertainty.

“Exactly,” Papa Creola affirmed. “And they will have to complete them together.”

Subner seemed to consider this, eyeing Jack’s hands that were still outstretched. “It is the right fit for him and I would like it back in action.”

Gen and Jack exchanged nervous expressions. Neither knew what the three were talking about, but they suspected they were about to find out.

“Yeah, okay,” Subner finally said, nodding. “There’s a sword that’s hidden in the House of Fourteen. It belonged to a Warrior by the name of Akio Takahashi.”

“The Takahashis are Founders,” Gen cut in.

Subner nodded. “Yes, and Akio’s ancestor created this sword. It’s known as Rakurai, meaning lightning strike—which actually describes its immense power and strength.”

“Wow, and you’re giving me this sword?” Jack asked, amazed.

“Yes,” Subner replied. “But Jack, you will need to retrieve the sword, but Gen has to let you into the House of Fourteen since you’re not allowed in there. However, as a Founder, she can grant anyone access to the place.”

“I should have known that,” Gen said. “I have to start my stupid new internship but I can take you when I attend the next council meeting. They requested that I attend one, probably to try and pry information on the Founders from me.”

“That works,” Jack replied, an excited look in his eyes.

“In the meantime, you’ll need a weapon,” Subner muttered, looking around his walls covered in various swords, axes, shields and knives. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any.”

Gen gave Jack a confused expression but decided not to argue with the Protector of Weapons.

“Lee at The Crying Cat Bakery has one that will suit you,” Subner continued. “Go and see her and tell her that I said to loan you her backup sword. She won’t be happy about it, but for a price, she’ll do it.”

“A price?” Jack asked.

Subner shrugged, going back to his stool and his book. “Take it up with her.”

Gen turned to Jack. “Okay, are you ready to meet another strange character?”

Mama Jamba smiled up at Papa Creola. “Which one of us do you think she is referring to when she says strange?”

“I hope it’s me,” Papa Creola said, strumming his guitar.

“I hope it’s me,” Mama Jamba countered, tugging him back toward the front of the Fantastical Armory. “Let’s come up with a new note. Something that no one has ever heard before.”