The Court of Souls?_Volume 2_Agent of the Realm?

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The Court of Souls?_Volume 2_Agent of the Realm? Page 12

by Andur


  Turning her around, I force her to take the lead, only to encounter Trebor! He points at Seria. “You! You were the one who tore my office apart! I know it! You'll pay for this.” Balling his hands into fists, he continues. “And I don't know how you managed to persuade the director to change my lessons to eight in the morning and five in the evening.”

  I purse my lips and squint my eyes at Trebor. “Actually, I was the one who suggested for you to take the odd lessons. Since you have the leisure to mess with someone else's time table, I figured that you could also take the lessons which nobody else wants.”

  The man starts gasping, turning red. But since I am royalty he doesn't dare to do anything. I know him. He is the backstabbing type, only using open confrontation if he feels like he can't lose. Or is totally enraged.

  Seria lifts her finger. “It's insulting to accuse me of such a childish prank. Do you have proof? Isn't it much more reasonable to assume that a few students searched your office for the answers to their next test? If I were you, I would make sure that nobody got a hold of your documents. Teachers who don't manage to keep their materials under wraps have their pay grade reduced. When I got the job, that fact was pointed out several times.”

  Trebor gasps like a fish, then he turns and flees the scene.

  Seria snickers at my side, covering her mouth with a hand. Why do I have the feeling that several copies of Trebor's documents are already circulating around the campus?

  18. ~Contacts.~

  “When your priorities shift, try not to stumble.”

  The Journey to the Afterlife

  Kingdom Newerth, Capital City

  Seria

  I messed up big time. Marcus definitely suspects that not everything about me is as cosy as it seems. Such bad fortune. I even had to touch him in order to flip his male switch. Guys always get distracted when a woman touches them on her own. Distracting his thoughts worked, but it opened up a box of ghosts I didn't want to be opened.

  While trying to deal with my own conflicting emotions, I study his profile. He is driving the car with a grim earnestness which I didn't notice in him before. His nose is a little angled. It's not beautiful to behold, but it allows him to play the bad guy. If he wants to. I like bad guys...

  Damn, if this investigation lasts any longer we might end up in bed... again.

  The fact that I am the one who is sending out positive signals for him is a complete fuck up on my part. And touching him like an old friend, showing him that he has a chance with me, is absolutely messed up. Especially since I don't want to break his heart when I go back to my realm.

  I even invited him to my shop several times already. Isn't that almost equal to allowing him into my home? I click my tongue in displeasure, realizing that I may have stepped over the deep end and am now with one foot above the ravine. No, it's not that bad... yet. He wasn't in my apartment.

  This isn't going to work.

  Enough self-loathing. People are dying and Adea was attacked. I still need more time to talk to Adea, or aunty Jazira as I know her.

  We didn't manage to go over every little detail, but Adea regained a good portion of Jazira's memories. She remembers some events about her and my parents' first transcendence to godhood. Sadly, Adea has no idea what her soul was up to in the meantime.

  She doesn't remember everything, but at least she now has access to her most powerful weapon; her mana pool. Jazira's abilities were never about skill or control. The smallest spells are blown out of proportion by her sheer power. A brute in a silken gown.

  A stupid grin appears on my face.

  “...listening to me?”

  Marcus's annoyed voice wakes me from my daydreams and I blink. “I am sorry?”

  “Try to pay attention. I just informed you that our search parties are continuously failing in tracking down the new spirits. And something that's even more concerning, is the fact that a few of the attackers from yesterday night were registered citizens. Something changed them, and not in a good way. They were a lot stronger than they should have been.”

  I purse my lips, immediately thinking of zombies, vampires and werewolves. “It isn't something contagious?”

  He shakes his head. “No, the DF checked that possibility first. It doesn't look like it.”

  Sighing, I try to focus my thoughts on the situation at our hands. “Did they lose control of their spirit form?” No, that's not how Marcus explained it. The spirit forms of this world are the same as in mine. But the people here apparently have control issues. Is it because they suppress their spirit form for so long? That solution sounds odd. In Dedessia we also have people who awaken late in their puberty and they have no problems at all. Are there any other differences between the two realms?

  It would be cool if I could solve their problem.

  When did I start thinking of these people as important? I am from Dedessia. It's not like I should feel anything for them. Yet another sign that I got much too deeply involved in this realm's problems. I just should grab Adea, Patricia and Jimmy and abduct them back to Dedessia and that's it.

  Do I really have to wait for months until the pathways allow a less bumpy return to my dimension? A simple trespass into the DF's prohibited area would allow me to return through the mana storm. There, problem solved, mission ended successfully.

  “... not listening, again!” Marcus screams into my ear. He looks away from the street and towards me. “Is something wrong? Your mind seems to be all over the place. Please understand that your circumstances don't change what you mean to me, you have to understand that. I like you.”

  I blush and point at the street. Why does he even like me? “Concentrate on the traffic! And I am sorry. There is a lot to consider recently.”

  Closing my eyes, I concentrate. “You said that the search parties have trouble in locating these strange... Turned? Spirits? What do we call them?”

  He grumbles, but I wave my hand to stop him. “Bring me to Lakehill Street 23. I might know how to find help in locating them.”

  Marcus furrows his forehead. “Okay? Who are you going to ask for help?”

  I shrug. “Better if you don't know.”

  “That's even more reason to investigate,” Marcus grumbles, but he takes the right turn and changes our direction.

  Whatever. Even if he starts pulling all his strings, I doubt that the DF can unearth anything before I am gone. My little criminal friend is an evildoer, but a competent one. Don isn't the type who can be pressed for information. And we have a binding oath. He can't snitch on me.

  “It's a contact to the underworld.” Why not trying the truth for once? I mean, if Marcus is really earnest about me, then he has to be able to deal with my antics.

  “What!” Marcus calls out.

  I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Not what. How did you think that I managed to make those investments out of nowhere? I needed someone to help me.”

  “And for that reason you turn to criminals?” Marcus asks.

  We arrive at Don's place and I pat Marcus's shoulder. “At least I know what to expect from them. Stop here and wait, I'll be back shortly.”

  Marcus hits the break and the car stops. “I am coming with you!”

  He is still fumbling with his seat belt when I am already outside and around the car. I bend down to look through the window. “Just stay here. They know and trust me. Your face is enough to make them run away.”

  I smile. “I know how to negotiate with these people.”

  He huffs. “Ten minutes. Then I am going in.”

  Nodding, I turn and walk to the heavy iron door which leads to Don's office. Hmm... they upgraded the thing since my last visit. I approach without haste and use the knocker to announce myself. Then I step back and turn to Marcus who is waiting in his car. I smile and wave at him to show that everything is okay.

  The door's shutter snaps open. “Yes, who-”

  I kick the door, enforcing myself with magic. The door's hinges break and the heavy th
ing tilts into the room, burying whoever was behind it under a thick steel plate. “Yes! That's what I needed! Blowing off some steam is still the best therapy!”

  Skipping, I enter the room and ensure to use my full weight on the bouncer beneath the door. Everything looks like the first time I visited. The accountant is in his usual place, looking up from his desk.

  His forehead develops deep wrinkles as he stares at the door and the man who I stand on. I place my fists at my hips and smile at him. “Hi! I am here for business!”

  The accountant's eyes wander to me. Without answering, he pulls a phone from his jacket and dials a number. “Bill? I need a new door and a new bouncer. And not the cheap stuff! She is here and she simply kicked the door and broke it! You promised that nobody would break that door! Come here. Pronto!” He continues talking while waving me towards Don's office.

  I take him up on the offer and don't waste time, only to find Don reading the newspaper. He lowers it when I enter, showing me just his eyes. “Queen! I hoped to never see you again!”

  “You are so nice! I also wouldn't be in this rathole if I didn't need your questionable skills,” I answer.

  He drops the paper and tilts his head. “Everything has a price! And I heard that you entered the upper ranks! Quite the achievement for someone who materialized out of thin air.”

  Oooh... you have no idea.

  Waving my hand, I dismiss the question of money. “That's fine! I'll arrange for the state to pay. Actually it's in your interest to help me out!”

  I quickly fill him in on the problem with the spirits and the fact that they attacked one of mine, which requires retribution. “...so I need a map of the Tandeen district. But not the average one. I need one with all the safe houses and hideouts you can think of. Where can these things hide to evade even the DF? Something like old, forgotten sewers and the likes. I have a strong feeling that it's underground with a well hidden entrance, since the DF has most likely searched all the houses above.”

  Don raises his eyebrows and blows air from between his lips. “Queen, your visits are never boring.”

  19. ~In motion.~

  “One event causes another, till eternity.”

  The Journey to the Afterlife

  Kingdom Newerth, Capital City

  Marcus

  “Why should I pay a criminal for telling me where his hideouts are?” I ask in confusion. The more I learn about Seria, the more questions I have. And I have a strong feeling that it will only get worse.

  “You are seeing it in the wrong light. Just imagine it as paying a foreign intelligence service for their info. Countries do that all the time in exchange for certain favours. In this case, the favour is a hefty sum of money.” Seria points towards the left. “Second road, left. Then we are there.”

  I manoeuvre around two wrecked cars which weren't yet removed from the street. Using my car to get around the destroyed Tandeen district may not have been the best choice in my life. I flick my eyes to the now empty houses. In the centre of the battle zone, the destruction is almost complete, but by moving closer to the outskirts of the prohibited area the destruction lessens drastically. We are currently searching an area which shows almost no signs of battle.

  If it wasn't for the occasional abandoned car, nobody would suspect that there was a battle at all. Except for the blood stains. The clean-up crews still have a lot of work to do, but at least the main streets are almost free of bodies. Such a waste of lives.

  “Stop here,” Seria informs me and I stop. Then I use the car's radio to inform the DF of our position. A raspy, male voice answers and confirms that reinforcements are close.

  Once that's done, I get out and follow Seria who went ahead. She studies the map, turning it, tilting her head.

  “Is there a problem?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No, I am just thinking about the best way to approach this hideout. It's the most promising one. That's why we stopped a little farther away. We don't want to wake up those... things.”

  I study her face. She is carefully concentrating her attention on the map, avoiding to look at me. I frown. “Then why did we stop at the previous five hideouts after we shared the coordinates with the DF?”

  She folds the map neatly and pulls on the neckline of her clothes to hide the map in her cleavage. “Because the hideouts were on the way. And because we had to ensure the validity of the information we got. Why did your brother refuse to move the DF after gaining such information? I would have expected the whole army to move in to check every location.”

  She is right. “I am not as deeply involved in the DF as my brother. There may be logistical problems. His reasoning that he would have to leave other parts of the district unguarded isn't false. I heard my father cursing several times, complaining about the lack of people, and the area we have to cover.”

  I think back on the conversation I had with my brother over the radio. It was short and precise, like always when we talk to each other. The fact that we are half brothers always left a rift between us. My mother also never managed to fulfil her role and always managed to make it clear that her own children always come before Perseus. Though I would like to think that we can tolerate each other, even though his behaviour towards women ticks me off.

  Seria tilts her head, looking at the sky. Then her attention returns to me. “Logistical problems? Sure. Marcus, your eyes are stuck. Quit staring.”

  I force my eyes towards her face and smile. “In my defence, I didn't think about what you think I thought. I am simply of the opinion that going by your previous fighting records, putting the map there,” I point at her boobs, “provides probably the least safety for such a valuable document.”

  She looks down on her chest, then back at me and squints her eyes. “Well played.”

  Without further consideration, she turns away and stalks towards our destination. She guides me along a narrow side street, leaving the main road. On the other side of the block, all my senses scream that something is wrong. Reaching out, I stop her. Then I step in front of her so that her scent doesn't interfere with my senses.

  It's remarkable that she adapted so quickly to the knowledge about my ability. She even thought about approaching our target against the wind. The corner of my mouth twitches upwards. That will make her even harder to track in the future.

  I breathe in deeply through my nose and my mouth, using my tongue to taste the miasma which is filling the air.

  “Something wrong?” Seria asks from behind me.

  “Definitely,” I answer and pull out my cell phone, dialing the number for the provisional DF-HQ. It doesn't even ring once before it clicks, informing me that the call was answered. I don't give the one on the other end a chance to talk. “Marcus here. Tell Perseus and his people that the position I last reported from is hot. We need a few divine here. Don't send anyone under demigod rank. They are just cannon fodder for those things.”

  “Understood. The staff and the general will be informed immediately.” Whoever answered my phone hangs up and I return the phone to my pocket.

  Seria is looking at me with raised eyebrows, so I elaborate. “I smell those things. Several of them. The stench of chaos and spirit is overwhelming. And I smell death and rotting corpses. Many. The only time I remember such a smell was when I got too close to a mass grave after a small village was hit by a spirit attack.”

  My eyes wander up and down Seria's body. She is wearing a grey tunic with wide trousers, traditional style. Easy to move in and more sturdy than the modern, silky stuff which got torn when she helped me to save my brother and Adea.

  “Should we go and take a look?” Seria asks, eyebrows still raised.

  I nod and take the lead. This time I follow my nose instead of Seria's directions. The stench guides me out of the alleyway, across the street and into a small garden. I take the fence with a single leap and approach the house which seems to be an old hotel. But instead of towards the house, the now unmistakable tracks of residing ma
na lead to an overgrown area in the garden. The area is covered with plants and bushes. The growth looks close to an untouched forest, confirming that this place wasn't taken care of for years.

  Fighting my way into the bushes, I find an old stone pavement with a recently cleared out trapdoor. There are broken branches all around the entrance. I allow Seria to inspect the trapdoor while I message our exact position to the DF.

  “I think I don't want to go down there. Can we blow everything up from up here?” She asks, sniffing at the door. “Gods, that smells awful, what's down there?”

  Wrinkling my nose, I confirm my previous assumptions. “Those things, rotting corpses, death and evil magic. Why is there even a hideout like this in the middle of the town?”

  Seria grabs her hair, inspecting it with concern. “If I go down there, the stench won't come off even after several showers. And magic isn't evil, the users are. And according to Don's documents that's one of the city's old drainages. The rainwater has to go somewhere.

  “A ladder should go down ten metres from the entrance. Then, a short distance down the narrow tunnel is a cistern which is supposed to hold the water. The cistern is big, about fifty metres in width and a hundred metres in length. The ceiling should be ten metres high. Perfect hideout as long as it doesn't rain too much. The documents say that this is the only entrance, unless you can crawl through ten centimetre pipes to get in or out.”

  I snort. Whoever wrote that report definitely suffered from paranoia. But that helps us now. “So if we go down there and take a look, nothing can get past us. We just have to stay at the entrance?”

  Seria's eyes widen. “Or we stay up here, don't crawl down into that pit, and wait until the DF arrives? And if anything comes out of that hole, we behead it.”

  “Where is the fun in that?” I bend down and open the trapdoor. The miasma from earlier wafts out of the hole and I have to fight the instinct to retch. Seria jumps backwards, waving her hand in front of her face. “By everything that's holy!”

 

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