Alfheim Seoul (Magic Parcel Service Book 1)

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Alfheim Seoul (Magic Parcel Service Book 1) Page 9

by Chris Coleman


  “Looks good,” he said. “Now activate it and drive slowly through it.”

  I nodded to Iverog and then took a deep calming breath.

  “You’re over twenty-five, right?” I asked Karakowski.

  “Of course, why?”

  “I’ve only got my learner’s permit, so I need an adult over twenty-five in the passenger seat.”

  “Uhhh . . .”

  “But don’t worry I’m a good driver.” I reached down with one hand and zipped up, activating the portal in the driveway ahead of us.

  “Maybe you should . . .” Karakowski’s voice trailed off.

  The portal popped into view, liquid silver floating in front of the garage door.

  “What in the name of all that is holy is that?”

  “Our way out,” I said, and dropped it into gear.

  “Nuh-uh, no. We are not going through that thing,” he yelled. But it was too late, I’d already pushed the pedal to the floor.

  “Slow down!” Iverog said. “This was the slow part!”

  The nose of the truck entered the silver portal, and the flow of magic from the ley line hit me like a tsunami.

  I started screaming.

  Surprise, exhilaration, pain, and strength like nothing I’d ever felt before flooded my mind and body, threatening to overwhelm me. The heavy bulk of the truck pulled magic from the ley line at an incredible rate, and it all had to flow through me before it could reach the portal. It seemed like the entire ley line had been diverted.

  However, I could take it, I could do anything. I felt invincible.

  And then it all drained away. Insignificance washed over me until I felt utterly ordinary and fatigued. We were through to the other side, and the portal had closed. I slammed on the brakes and came to a stop on the cobblestone road in Tal-Oknal.

  “What just happened! What did you do to me?”

  “What do you mean? You said you were cleared for this.” I put the truck in park and turned to look at him.

  “I lied, OK?”

  “Oh great, now I’m going to get in trouble for letting you in.”

  “Letting me in where? Where are we?”

  “Alfheim, like I said before. Where did you think we were going?”

  “I thought Alfheim was a trendy new club that let underage kids like you in.”

  “And when I said Grandpa Dan got kidnapped by goblins?”

  “A new street gang that hung around the club.”

  “How could you possibly think that?”

  “I don’t understand half of what teenagers say these days, so I just go with it.”

  “Did you actually talk to Malcolm this morning, or was that a lie too?”

  “I did talk to him. He came around to tell me to lay off the case and that I should leave you alone. But that got me thinking you hadn’t been telling me the whole truth. I was totally right, but not the way I thought. So what is this place?”

  “This is Alfheim, the faerie realm.”

  “And that silver thing in the air that we drove through?”

  “That was a portal.”

  “You some kinda witch?”

  “Yeah, kinda, except it’s my first time taking the truck through. I can’t believe we made it!”

  “I’m gonna need a minute to process this.” He leaned forward and put his face in his hands.

  “You OK?”

  “Shush,” he said. “Just a minute.”

  “OK.”

  “You say you just learned about this,” he said, after several moments. “How did you handle it?”

  “I sort of jumped in with both feet. I guess you did too, huh?”

  “Yeah, looks that way.”

  “Well, don’t take too long to process. Grandpa Dan is still in trouble, and we have a fortress to storm.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “Take me back,” Agent Karakowski said, his voice cracking.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes you can. You made a portal here, just make another portal.”

  “It’s not that easy. That spell required all of my energy, I have to rest. It will be a couple of hours at least before I can do another one.”

  “Then let’s just camp here till you are ready to do the spell.”

  “But they have Grandpa Dan. We have to go rescue him.”

  “No way. I don’t have backup. I don’t know what’s out there and I am definitely not going to run a rescue mission with a teenager who can barely drive.”

  “Hey, I’m a good driver.”

  “For your age maybe, but that’s beside the point. I’ve dealt with many kidnappings at the FBI and most of the time they don’t turn out well. It’s been three days already and they haven’t made any demands. We are out of our league and I think it’s time we cut our losses and go home while we still can.”

  “He’s my grandpa!” I shouted. “He’s not a loss we can cut. I can’t go back now and leave him there. They’ll kill him, or worse. I’ve only just learned about magic and he is the only one who knows what’s happening to me. I need him. I have to save him.”

  I could feel the tears welling up, but pushed them back. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. Why did he have to be such a jerk?

  “This is totally against protocol. I can’t put you in danger. I’ll get fired.”

  “This isn’t Seattle, this isn’t even Earth. There is no FBI here and you aren’t putting me in danger. They are. They started it when they kidnapped Grandpa Dan.”

  “You are in no position to finish it.”

  “But . . . But . . . I’ll go get him myself if I have to! I know where he is and I have a plan.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s see where they are keeping him and tell me your plan.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, we’re just looking. I make no promises.”

  I put the truck in gear and we lurched forward. The trip to Morren Stronghold seemed really short in the truck compared to how long it had taken to walk. I stopped the truck a short distance from the gates and explained my plan.

  “That was your brilliant idea? Ramming the gate? You want to drive this truck through those metal bars?”

  “I’m getting the idea you don’t like my plan.”

  “Well, ramming the gate doesn’t seem like much of a plan at this point. What made you think it would work?”

  “That looks like a wrought iron gate, with all the bars and looping designs. But they don’t have iron here, so it has to be silver and if the gate is made of silver, I figured it would be softer than the steel in this truck, and we’d break right through it.”

  “OK, I can give you that one. What if it’s an alloy?”

  “Alloys?”

  “I guess you haven’t learned about alloys yet. If that was just pure silver, then I expect your plan would work, but mix copper with the silver, and you get a much stronger metal. That’s an alloy.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve never been to faerie land, and I’m not sure I fully believe I’m here now. But if anything I’ve read in fiction is true, then how do we know those gates aren’t made of Adamantium or Mithril? Or maybe they just magicked the metal so it’s stronger than steel? We’d crash right into the gates, alert the guards and get ourselves killed.”

  Despair crept slowly over me as he spoke. He was right, I could have gotten us killed. I tried not to think of Grandpa Dan’s crumpled body lying at the bottom of some dark pit, deep in the dungeon as he wasted away from hunger.

  “We can’t give up though, Grandpa Dan is in there!” The words just sort of burst out of me.

  “Calm down,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “I wasn’t saying we give up. We still have stealth and surprise on our side. Though, that and my gun may be our only assets, unless you have some more magic tricks up your sleeves?”

  “Nothing that doesn’t make me act like a drunk pirate.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Sorry. N
o, I don’t know any more spells. I only just started learning last week.”

  “I see. Do we have any rope?”

  “I think there is some in the back of the truck to tie down crates.”

  “Alright, then I have an idea how to get past the wall. I’m going to go look for the rope in the back of the truck.” The door creaked loudly as he stepped out.

  “I’ve figured it out. You’re not a wizard,” Iverog said, before the truck door had even closed. His head popped through the ceiling to look at me upside down. I shushed him by holding up a finger while I watched in the side mirror as Agent Karakowski walked to the back of the truck.

  “I can’t look at you like that,” I said to Iverog, when I was sure Agent Karakowski was out of earshot. “Come down and sit in the seat.”

  “But your soul plane is so squished in here, it’s hard to move around.” It didn’t seem to hinder him much since he immediately plopped down into the passenger seat.

  “What do you mean I’m not a wizard?” Curiosity and anxiety coating my words as I spoke.

  “I saw how you brought the truck through the portal. Only a very powerful wizard could pull that off, even using a ley line like you did. And you’re not a powerful wizard.”

  “So?”

  “When wizards cast a spell, they pull in energy equal to their spark or reservoir, then use it to complete the spell. When energy flows from the ley line, it still has to flow through their spark. The larger the spark, the more energy they can funnel through them.”

  “Isn’t that what I did?”

  “You couldn’t have. I’ve seen your spark. It’s tiny like a speck of dust. There is no way that much power from the ley line could pass through your spark. Therefore, you’re not a wizard.”

  “Then what am I?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. I wanted to ask so many more questions, but the passenger door opened and Iverog jumped up, disappearing through the ceiling of the truck.

  I let out a sigh of disappointment at not being able to continue the conversation, though I was glad Iverog was hidden.

  “I got the rope,” Karakowski said, showing me a large bundle. “I figure if we drive into the forest over there, we should be able to park next to the wall. This truck is tall enough we can climb on it and get on top of the wall. We can use the rope to climb down.”

  Compared to what I had come up with, his plan seemed brilliant. Though we still had no idea where Grandpa Dan was being held.

  Agent Karakowski watched out the passenger window as I parked the truck as close as possible to the stone wall.

  “Whoa!” he said. The truck stopped. The mirror just inches from the stone wall. I threw it in park and shutdown the engine.

  It was at least twenty feet up to the top of the wall. Karakowski climbed out the passenger window, barely fitting in the space the large mirror took up, squeezing his way up to the top of the truck. When he finally got up there, he stood only five feet below the top of the wall.

  Trees stretched out in all directions and I could hear birds singing occasionally. Nearly everything was green, the trees, ferns and even the vines twisting their way up the tree trunks. Everything except for the rocks the wall was built from. They were bone white and not a single plant grew within three feet of them.

  The stark contrast made me feel uneasy. The wall was thick, maybe two or three feet wide, easy enough to stand on. Karakowski scrambled up the wall with surprising ease for a guy in a suit carrying a bundle of rope.

  “You sure these rocks are safe? They look weird,” I said. Karakowski jumped off the wall, landing awkwardly on top of the truck with a look of panic on his face.

  “Why’d you let me climb up there if you didn’t think they were safe?” Are you trying to get me killed?”

  “Are you OK?” I asked. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

  Iverog popped into view, hovering in the air above the forest.

  “Those rocks are krottos, a kind of salt stone. Only dangerous to plants. Over time, the salt leaches off, killing the vegetation nearby,” he said.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Karakowski said. “But how are we going to get over the wall if it’s dangerous to touch?”

  “I don’t think the wall is dangerous,” I said.

  “What? Then why did . . . Oh! That question wasn’t for me. You were talking to someone or something that only you can see.”

  “Uh,” I said, dumbstruck. “What makes you think—”

  “I’ll take the look of surprise as confirmation,” he said. “I first noticed something was off shortly after you puked on my shoes. You kept staring at something that wasn’t there. Initially, I thought it was post-traumatic stress since you had just been through an ordeal. But you kept doing it when I met you at the school.”

  “Oh,” I said. Iverog just shook his head at me.

  “And just now when I was getting the rope, I heard you talking, but it was only half a conversation. I probably would have dismissed that too, but things aren’t normal here. So, who are you talking to?”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “I understand. They can’t have you spilling secrets to non-magical folk.”

  “That’s part of it, but I couldn’t even speak the words if I wanted to.”

  “Oh, that’s different, sounds like a geas.”

  “A what?”

  “A geas. It’s an odd word. It’s spelled G-E-A-S, but pronounced ‘gesh’ and it’s a spell that prevents you from doing something.”

  “Or compels you to do something,” Iverog said.

  “How come you know so much about this? Mithril, alloys and the geas. Are you sure you didn’t know about magic before this?” I asked.

  “I read fairy tales like any other kid. Until I hear otherwise, I’m going to believe every detail in those books.”

  “Yeah, I guess I feel the same way.” I turned away feeling slightly awkward.

  “It is pretty up here,” he said, straightening out his dark colored suit. “But we should probably get going.” He stuck the rope through the open window in the truck, tying it to the door. I reached for the rope to throw it down the other side of the wall, but he stopped me.

  “Not yet,” he said. “I gotta tie knots so we can climb back up.”

  “Oh, good idea.” I stepped away from the rope, feeling a little sheepish for jumping the gun. His large hands deftly tied overhand knots into loops that you could put a foot into on the way back up. He obviously knew what he was doing.

  He walked down the wall two or three steps to a spot more secluded and tossed the rope over the edge. The main fortress sat a long walk up a short hill and the wall meandered along the gentle slope in a wide circle.

  “I’ll go first,” he said, and climbed down easily. I followed, using all of my Taekwondo training to try and make it seem as smooth as Karakowski, but my foot got caught on the last loop and I toppled to the ground with a yelp.

  “You there!” said a gruff voice, as I tried to get up.

  The shiny metal spearhead pointed at my face looked razor sharp. My hands went up in surrender before I realized I’d done anything.

  “How’d ya get in here?” asked the guard in a thick accent. He was taller and sleeker than the goblin I’d fought in Grandpa Dan’s store, but had similar features. He wore leather armor around his torso and a sturdy helmet on his head.

  “Over the wall?” I said.

  “Don’t be sarcastic with him,” warned Iverog. “That’s a hobgoblin. They’re the taller, smarter cousins of goblins, but not that much smarter. If he misunderstands he’ll probably just kill you.”

  “This place is private property,” the hobgoblin said.

  “We’re just visiting,” Karakowski said, his hands up also. I wondered why he hadn’t pulled his gun on the guard, but didn’t say anything.

  “Now you get to visit the prison cells,” he said, and hollered something in another language. Three more hobgoblin guards came around the corner, ea
ch dressed in armor and carrying a menacing looking spear.

  Whatever chance we had to escape earlier was now gone.

  CHAPTER 19

  The loud clank of the heavy prison door closing behind us left me rattled and shaken. I sat down on the cold stone floor and leaned up against one of the walls. I’d gotten myself captured and dragged Karakowski along for the ride because I couldn’t see how outmatched we were. I only knew one spell, but it had felt like enough to conquer the world when I was casting it. Too bad I wasn’t that courageous all the time. It’d make talking to boys much easier.

  We were all going to die and it was my fault. If only I hadn’t . . .

  “Wait!” I said, remembering my one skill. “I can just open a portal and we can get out of here.”

  “You feeling up to it?” asked Karakowski.

  “Not in here,” Iverog said.

  “Why not?” I asked Iverog. My sudden ray of hope disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

  “Huh?” Karakowski said.

  I held up a finger to shush Karakowski.

  “Oh, you were talking to your spirit guide.”

  “Yeah, hang on a second.”

  “It’s not like I can’t tell if you two are talking. You are going to have to work on that if you intend to keep him a secret from anyone.”

  “Why can’t we just portal out of here?” I asked Iverog more intently.

  “Any portal from within this prison would open up underwater, around seven thousand fathoms deep,” Iverog said. “It’s a common practice. I once saw a prison that connected to the caldera of an active volcano.”

  “Underwater?” I said out loud.

  “What’s underwater?” asked Karakowski.

  “Our only escape route,” I answered.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “When I open a portal, I don’t get to choose the destination, I can only bridge the gap between places that are already connected. So it really matters where I stand. Apparently everywhere within this prison is connected to the bottom of the ocean.”

  “Wow, that’s going to make things harder,” Karakowski said.

  I could feel the weight of my bad decision. “I’m sorry I got us into this. I thought we were going to come down here and kick butt and rescue Grandpa Dan. Now we’re all going to die.” I buried my face in my arms to hide the tears that had started welling up.

 

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