Heir of Fury

Chapter Seven

Chapter SevenOutside, the land was dark, quiet and as dead as ever. The planets still glowed like colored marbles, the glow more pronounced now that I was able to see into higher dimensions. I glanced around, at the only two leeways connecting the Low Lands to other planets. The longer line connected to Earth, and the shorter and equally strong to the Sidhe land, which in turn connected to the Rahzar planet, then the Tristan star, which led away from Earth and the Sidhe land and deeper into other dimensions. There was a second line, short and faint, that connected Earth to the Sidhe land, but according to the notes I'd found In Remo's library, that one wasn't well used, or even well known, ending somewhere inside Belvedere Castle. It also, according to the notes, demanded more energy from the traveler. It was also not guarded by guardians, something noteworthy, especially for someone like me. I moved down the Mandolia Mountain, suddenly uneasy. I didn't like traveling leeways. I've been leery of a guardian ambush ever since I killed one and stole his light sword. I suspected the only reason guardians weren't outright hunting me was because of the Seelie enforcer, Leon, the person responsible for them. But what if I stumbled upon a guardian on a line unaware? Would it know I was the person who killed one of its kind? Or worse, that I was the one responsible for smuggling wyverns? Though I believed Lee was behind the reason guardians weren't hunting me, I didn't think the Seelie would take the wyverns in Remo's lair with platitude.

Thinking about the wyverns brought Dathana to mind, and anxiety gnawed at me. I paused, wanting to go back and take her home with me, but I had no excuse to give Remo, other than I cared for the creature. And I couldn't give Remo more ammunition to use against me.

I bit my lip, trying to think things through, my mind blank of ideas.

Frizz appeared beside me, pressed against my leg, emanating comfort and reassurance.

“You're right,” I murmured. The wyverns, like the spheres, were my responsibility. Remo wanted them alive. He wouldn't allow any agent to harm them. No, Remo wasn't a nice person, but he wasn't stupid either. He wouldn't dare risk the wyverns for the simple fact he needed the creatures well. For whatever sinister plan he had in mind for them.

I scratched between Frizz's arrow-pointed ears and smiled. “We're going home, little fella,” I said. His excitement was palpable. I picked him up and jumped onto the leeway. My energy level was still low, but hopefully it'd be enough to take me home. I'd have three weeks to replenish strength then, and I was so looking forward to it.

There were two types of leeways: The interdimensional and the domestic one. Domestic paths were leeways from point A to point B on the same planet, while interdimensional were those that jumped from dimension to dimension–like the one I was on now. It was possible to jump on to an interdimensional leeway no matter where the person was, like the way Diggy could jump us from anywhere on Earth to the Low Lands. But to catch a domestic line, I had to be, if not on top, then close enough to catch it.

Interdimensional leeways were not fun, certainly not safe, especially for someone low on energy.

Imagine hurtling through a glowing tube at the speed of light. The fuel? One's body energy. Well-traveled leeways–both domestic and interdimensional–demanded less of a person, and the opposite was also true.

As I neared Earth, I readied myself to switch to a domestic line. Another funny fact about domestic leeways: They didn't cross over water. I switched to a domestic line once I neared Midtown. The decrease of energy demand made me realize how drained I was. I marveled at the multitude of leeways crisscrossing the city.

I never questioned why the Hunters base was here in New York, never wondered why New York was such a hubbub of preternatural activities. But seeing all those lines, all those sources of power, I realized now it was due to the high concentration of magic.

Still, the closest line to my apartment on 1st and 84th was about three blocks away. While I needed to be close to a domestic line to catch it, the opposite was not true. Imagine the domestic leeway on top of a three-story building. To reach it I'd need to take the elevator–or stairs–all the way up to the third floor. But once in the line, once on the third floor, I could jump off the roof without needing the help of stairs or elevators. Of course, the longer the jump-off, the riskier it got. I had a split second to decide if I wanted to walk the remaining blocks or try to jump from there. It was a long leap, and the lack of a line meant I'd expend more energy to stay connected to the ether. Drained as I was, I could very well fall off the line midway through. But at the end I was too anxious and impatient to hike the remaining blocks to my apartment on foot.

Keeping my energy connected to the path, I jumped, feeling the pull of the leeway as it began to drain me to sustain my path, and for a horrifying moment I thought I wouldn't make it. And then I was there.