Dead King's Sword (Old Draft)

11. Seek and You Shall Find

Erin

***

For the sake of comfort and privacy, I paid for two nights at a hotel in Lakos. Inside my suite, I stored the dress I had bought and other small accessories I had acquired while gathering info about Brenu.

The bedroom was beautiful. Artificial flames lit torches by my bedhead, while a brilliant white counterpane hid a queen-sized bed. And hanging on the wall across from it was a large flat-screen TV.

A set of glass doors led to the balcony, where I watched the ocean as it exhaled, sending ripples across its dark surface. I leaned against the rail and sipped on one of my precious bags of blood after pouring it into a wine glass. I had only brought a few blood packs with me for the purpose of travelling light, not realizing the situation in Niveria would be so anti-magic with nowhere to buy blood. Hopefully, I found Zeren before my supply ran out.

The night air was chilly. Sweet. Silver clouds streaked the bluish-black sky. The pointed leaves of the cabbage trees surrounding the beach resembled a cluster of daggers in the dark.

In the courtyard, bright lights beneath the pool water made it glow invitingly.

I finished my drink, then washed the cup in the bathroom sink. I rescued a few items I needed for my spell from my jeans pockets and placed them on the marble counter. Strands of Zeren's hair had been tucked into a plastic bag. A vial of my tears lay next to it. First, I took one of Zeren's locks, then placed it in a glass bowl. "Hair of a loved one."

I poured the tears I had collected after putting myself in painful situations. I had tried hitting my toes on a wooden dresser and burning my finger. But what had made the tears fall wasn't the torture but the realization that if I didn't act fast, I might lose Zeren forever. No matter how much I tried to shake it, the dream felt like a warning. "Tears of the seeker," I said, draining the tube.

Zeren's hair glowed white. All that was left was to say the words that would trigger the spell. "Shovek, your humble descendant asks for help finding that which they never meant to lose. Above or below, there is nothing you don't know. So, please reveal to me the location of my friend, Zeren Mandel."

The hair floated off the dresser and entered the bedroom. I grabbed my airboard from its spot against the wall and followed Zeren's lock onto the balcony. Then, tucking the board beneath my feet, I poured mana into the holes by my heels and slowly rose off the ground before following the hair as it barreled towards the unknown.

***

I crossed the border into Brenu, darting among the clouds as if I was a bird, a plane, or a witch flying on her broomstick.

Near the road, men hid behind crumbling stone walls, rifles in hand. Their uniform camouflaged with the sand, helping them disappear. I passed them as nothing more than a whisper in the breeze as I drew an invisibility rune on my hand.

After flying for a few more minutes, the hair began its descent.

Zeren's lock paused before a building half-buried in the sand; in the past, this place might have been a library or a shop with its elaborate arches and pillars. Now it was a military base.

I landed gently on the upper section of a staircase that ran along the building's side as the rest was hidden in the ground. Except for two guards who smoked marijuana near the back, and the white trails giving away their hiding places, the place was open for invasion.

Perhaps Hanuc's children had gotten too used to having no competition and no longer took the necessary precautions. Whatever the case, it would be their downfall.

The strand of hair led me up the steps to a balcony on the second floor. Beyond which, a set of double doors opened with a gentle push. I strode inside and paused, examining the room. An overturned table rested on the stone floor, hidden by at least an inch of dirt. Crowding the walls were dozens of barrels of water or wine.

I pressed a button, activating the mini function of my airboard, and it shrunk till it could fit in the palm of my hand, allowing me to put it into my cloak's right pocket.

My chest tightened as I walked over to a door that led to the corridor. I was close to Zeren. I could feel her. I heard the laughter and gruff voices of the men outside and prepped myself to fight.

There was no one in the hallway, but as I travelled down the staircase, I saw my opponents; some were lean and wimpish, while others were more muscular. They conversed at wooden tables over drinks but paused to stare at me as my invisibility rune faded.

When attacking by surprise, it was best to use speed. Act too slow, and your enemies would have time to counterattack. Mana gushed from my pores, and a heavy fog filled the room, turning the visibility to null. I knew there were roughly twenty steps to the red door I had opened in my dream, so after descending the stairs, I made my way over there, blind as everyone else.

Hands reached for my legs and arms, but I knocked them back with wind blasts, doing my best to follow a straight path. My palms tickled after using magic, and exhilaration made my armpits grow damp with sweat. Curses broke out around me; tables flipped and struck the ground.

My hand moved across the wooden door until it found the brass knob and twisted it.

***