Alfheim Seoul (Magic Parcel Service Book 1) Read online

“No, I can find anywhere.”

  “I don’t see the difference,” I said, and I stopped walking. I was struggling for breath and needed a break.

  “Objects, vehicles, and people don’t have a fixed location, I can’t find them. I don’t inherently know where those types of things are. However, buildings, trees, and other structures don’t often change location. If it’s anchored in place, I can find it.”

  “Do you need the address, or can you find places like the Eiffel Tower or the White House?”

  “If you know the name of the place, I could guide you there.”

  “So you just read my mind and know where the location is? What if I don’t know where it is, just what it’s called?”

  “It doesn’t matter if you know where it is or not. It’s magic.”

  “I guess I can delete my map app now,” I said. Iverog gave me a strange look but didn’t say anything.

  “So how are we going to find Grandpa Dan?” I asked. My head was throbbing, and the pain in my shoulder was getting worse.

  “The goblin told me the location of the room they were holding Mr. Dan in. However, I don’t think they will be there very long. He spoke of the location in terms that indicated it was temporary.”

  “I wonder how long we have to find him.” I tried taking another step forward, but my legs struggled with the movement.

  “You don’t look very good,” he said.

  “Sorry, I didn’t put makeup on this morning.” If I looked half as bad as I felt, I must look hideous.

  “No, I mean you look unwell, and you are leaving a trail of blood behind you.”

  I turned to look behind me, but the world went black as I did.

  CHAPTER 13

  A sharp, pungent odor burst into my nostrils, jolting me awake. It made me breathe in deeply, almost against my will as my head jerked back. My eyes shot open, and I struggled to make sense of my surroundings as several regions of my body fought to inform my brain how much they hurt.

  I looked around blearily. The cot I laid on was as uncomfortable as the room was unfamiliar. An elderly woman bent over me, still waving a nasty smelling vial near my nose.

  “Alright, I’m awake. You can cut it out,” I said. The woman wore a tidy gray smock with her hair pinned neatly back. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” she said.

  “I died?” I said, wondering if she really meant it.

  “Oh, no, dearie. But you came close. Gave me quite a scare. When Vorez found you on the roadside, lying in a pool of your own blood, he didn’t know what to make of you. We don’t get many humans around these parts. The lout thought you were dead and took you to Sendar.”

  “Where is Sendar?” I asked.

  “Oh, it’s not a place, he’s the undertaker. Fortunately for you, he knows when something is still alive. Don’t know how long you had been lying there, but you’re lucky to be alive.”

  I looked down at my clothes, expecting them to be blood soaked, but they weren’t my clothes. A dark blue shift and grey woolen pants replaced the t-shirt and jeans I had been wearing. I didn’t want to think about who dressed me.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Not long, dearie. Just two days. It took—”

  “Two days!” I said. “Why did you let me sleep so long? I have to find Grandpa Dan.” Iverog appeared behind the old woman. He looked at me, and I saw the same emotions he’d had when I first met him. Anger, rage, pain. This time they were directed at me.

  “You were dying, dearie. You had to rest. And you are in no shape to go anywhere just yet.”

  I couldn’t sit there with Iverog looking at me that way. I pulled back the blanket that covered me and attempted to sit up. Searing pain shot through my shoulder and left leg, but I pushed through it, slowly rising to my feet. Iverog shook his head and disappeared from view.

  “You shouldn’t be moving dearie, you aren’t healed enough yet. Those were some nasty cuts on your shoulder. I just woke you so you could eat something. We need to replenish all the blood you lost.”

  Right on cue, my stomach growled loudly, as though her words had woken it up. I sat back down on the cot. She picked up a tray of food from a small wooden table I hadn’t noticed. The room wasn’t very big, the cot and the table being the only furnishings. Bare walls surrounded me, except they weren’t really walls. Rows of pine trees grown so closely together formed the walls and ceiling. The entire dwelling looked as if it had grown up in this spot.

  I grabbed a couple of pillows to lean against as she set the tray of food on my lap. Two eggs that definitely weren’t from a chicken and a warm, delicious smelling biscuit filled the wooden plate. An ornately carved, three-tined, wooden fork lay next to it. I dug in ravenously, eating everything except the prickly blue eggs.

  “Who are you?” I asked between bites. A question I should have asked earlier, but I hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise.

  “Reselda the Healer,” she said.

  “I’m Alecia. Thank you for saving me.”

  “A young girl like you shouldn’t be out all alone, these forests are dangerous. Many a creature out there would make a quick snack out of you and still be hungry.”

  I grimaced at the visual her words brought to mind. This place was sounding less and less fun.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” I said. “But I must be going. I have to find my Grandpa Dan. I’m not sure how things work around here, but what do I owe you?”

  “You owe me your life dearie,” Reselda said. “I don’t charge people money like the merchants do, nor do I accept it. The village folk provide me anything I ask because I’ve healed all of them at one time or another. And now that I’ve healed you, if I ask you for something in return, you cannot say no.”

  “Oh,” I said, as the ramifications of what she said settled in.

  “You really screwed up,” said Iverog, finally breaking his silence. “You nearly killed us. And now you have indebted us to this Elven healer.”

  I nodded slowly in Iverog’s direction, acknowledging him without saying anything. I felt horrible, both physically and emotionally. I’d fought a goblin, opened a portal, nearly gotten killed, Grandpa Dan was missing, and now Iverog hated me.

  I stood up carefully, working my way through the pain. It didn’t hurt so bad when I was sitting still, but moving aggravated things.

  “Thank you,” I said. “But I really have to be going. I need to find my Grandpa Dan before it’s too late.”

  “Of course dearie,” Reselda said. “I’ll find you when it’s time for me to collect.”

  The ominous tone of her words gave me the heebie-jeebies. I wanted to get as far away from her as possible. The small door opened to what must be her living quarters. The wooden door to the outside swung open easily and daylight flooded into the dimly lit chambers. From the outside Reselda’s hut melted into the jungle, the tops of the trees that made up her walls stretched up, disappearing into the canopy.

  The fresh air seemed to be helping, and I was feeling less pain the more I walked. Iverog slid out from behind an invisible wall, walking just ahead of me.

  “Before you say anything,” I said, “I want you to know I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to nearly get killed or indebted to the healer.” The grumpy look melted off of Iverog’s face as I spoke.

  “Of course,” he grunted. “It’s been a rough couple of days for me watching them drag your limp body around from place to place, wondering if we were going to die.”

  I suddenly had a wave of sympathy for Iverog. I’d been asleep and blissfully unaware of what was going on, while he had to watch, worried each breath I took might be his last.

  “I’m so sorry,” I began.

  “Never mind,” he said, interrupting me. Something in his voice had changed. “We need to find Mr. Dan,” he continued. “You put on a good face back there with the healer, but are you well enough to keep walking?”

  “Yeah, I think so.�
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  “The location the goblin gave us is very close.” The expression on his face was all business.

  “How close?” I felt like I could walk maybe a mile like this before I would need to rest. Maybe not even a mile.

  “That is the building,” Iverog said, pointing down the street. At first, I didn’t recognize it as a building, since vines and other greenery covered every inch of it.

  “How do we get in? I don’t see a door,” I said, as we approached it. It was at least two stories tall, with a couple of windows visible on the upper floor. I couldn’t tell how much taller it was because the rest of the building disappeared into the canopy of trees.

  “The door is right there,” he said. As soon as he pointed it out, it was evident. The wood door blended in with the foliage.

  The door swung open eerily when I pushed on it. I couldn’t hear anything inside. I peered through the opening to see an empty corridor. A hallway stretched on for several yards. I stepped through the door onto a wood floor, except it wasn’t cut lumber. A multitude of sturdy, woven branches made up the walls, floor, and ceiling. Much like Reselda’s hut, this entire structure consisted of live trees and plant life grown into its current shape.

  The corridor ended in a large two-story room. Light from the second-story windows illuminated it.

  “There is no one here,” I said. Trash littered the ground, but otherwise, the place was completely empty. “How are we going to find Grandpa Dan now?”

  “You could ask Reselda. She seems like she knows everything that goes on here.”

  “I can’t go back there. She’s creepy.”

  “I’m not sure you have a choice.”

  “You wanna bet? There were a lot more houses back in the village. I’d rather knock on every other door before I go back to the creepy lady. Somebody has to know what’s going on.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The road to the village stretched on ahead of me, a beautiful mix of grass, flowers, and trees.

  Cobblestones lined the narrow street, and the silence was only interrupted by the occasional horse-drawn cart carrying a load of turnips or cabbages to market.

  I looked over at Iverog again as I plodded along the side of the road. He was walking in step with me, his face dour and grumpy. The pain in my shoulder had died down to a steady throbbing as long as I moved gently.

  We were traveling as direct a course as possible to the center of the village. I was determined to talk to as many villagers as necessary to find out where Grandpa Dan was being held. There was no way I was going to go back to Reselda. The crazy old lady already thought I owed her something.

  “You’re walking slower than a freshwater byra,” Iverog said, interrupting my contemplation.

  “A what?”

  “It’s a fish-like creature that thinks it can swim in mud.”

  “Oh shut up,” I said. “I’m still in a lot of pain. I can’t go much faster than this.”

  “Why haven’t you used your wizard healing?”

  “My what?”

  “Wi-zard hea-ling.” He said it slowly, enunciating each syllable like I was an idiot.

  “I heard what you said, I just don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean you are a wizard, so heal.”

  “I just told you, I don’t know how,” I said, my voice slightly elevated.

  “Varla’s armpits! Have they taught you nothing?” Iverog threw his arms up in resignation, pacing back and forth in front of me. He seemed as frustrated as I was.

  “Pretty much. I’ve been trying to tell you this. When you taught me the portal spell, it was the first magic I’d ever done.”

  “Well, no wonder it exploded,” he said, shaking his head. I was happy he was finally starting to get it. Two weeks ago I’d never imagined I’d be learning magic, let alone lost and stranded in some elf village.

  “So how do I do this wizard healing thing? I could really use it right now. Or Advil.”

  “You haven’t got enough magic on your own for this to be effective, so you will need to pull from a ley line.”

  “Got it,” I said. Using a ley line as my source of magic energy was something I was starting to expect. Unfocusing my eyes, I looked up. A single, wispy ley line snaked its way across the sky. The magic flowed easily from the line as I pulled. Warmth and excitement rushed through my body, filling me with glee so vibrant it bordered on mania. I had power—no, I was power—a force to be reckoned with, to be feared. I felt more powerful with each passing moment.

  “Whoa, enough,” Iverog said, and I stopped pulling from the line. The sense of maniacal power subsided slightly, and I reached out to grab a tree branch to steady myself. I might have felt invincible but I was still very unstable.

  “Now what?” I was half expecting my voice to be deep and booming, filled with all the might and strength I was currently feeling. The sheer normalcy of it was a letdown.

  “Just hold onto it for as long as you can. It needs to seep in.”

  “Wait, that’s it? No healing spell, no intricate incantation, nothing? I just pull in the magic, and it heals me?” It was hard to believe and even harder to hold still. I felt like I was bursting at the seams to let the magic free. There were mountains that needed to be leveled, demons in need of defeating, and grandpas who needed rescuing.

  “Sort of. You still have to be careful. The euphoria you are feeling is temporary. When the energy drains, it will disappear. So try not to hurt yourself more. If you can let it seep in well enough, it does help you heal faster and live longer.”

  “I’m going to live longer?”

  “Wizards do tend to live longer, except for the stupid ones. They still end up slumped over in a seedy tavern with a knife in their back. It’s kind of hard to come back from that.”

  I took off at a run back toward the village. I had energy to spare. I was feeling great and could easily open a portal, I could probably open five portals, but if I left now I would be admitting failure, and Grandpa Dan would be lost forever. I couldn’t let that happen, I needed answers, and someone in town was bound to have them. Sherlock couldn’t hold a candle to what I was about to accomplish.

  Detective Alecia was on the case. I could get used to feeling this good.

  “Iverog, keep a lookout for clues.”

  “What?” he said, confused at my sudden outburst.

  “We have to interrogate the villagers to find Grandpa Dan, and until we find him, I’m calling you Watson.”

  “Oh great,” he said. “I can’t wait for this to wear off.”

  “Well, it’s either Watson or Scooby,” I said to Iverog. “You there!” I hollered at the nearest villager. “Stop and be questioned!”

  CHAPTER 15

  Morren Stronghold rose up before me, an impressive monolith of white stone amongst a sea of green trees. A similarly colored stone wall encircled the structure, ending in a large metal gate. There were guards there, but they were too blurry to make out. I blinked, trying to make my eyes focus, but they weren’t cooperating. I slowly put one foot in front of the other, making my way along the cobblestone road toward the fortress.

  “You sure we’re going the right way?” My head was throbbing, and I could barely keep the stone structure in focus. The events of the last couple hours seemed to blur together.

  “Those villagers you terrorized indicated this was the place,” Iverog said, in a voice altogether too loud.

  “Not so loud, you’re echoing inside my skull.” I held my head in my hands to stop the world from spinning. “I didn’t terrorize anyone, did I?”

  “So you don’t remember claiming you were someone named ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ and threatening to ‘keelhaul the lot of them.’ Though I’m still trying to figure out what all the singing was about.”

  “I don’t believe you.” My head pulsed with each word.

  “Trust me, you were quite impressive back there.”

  “What’s wrong with me? I feel weird.”

  “You soake
d up too much magic.”

  An image bubbled to the surface of my thoughts, causing me to blush. I had a vague recollection there was some dancing with the singing.

  “I’m starting to think ‘drunk with power’ is a very literal thing for wizards.”

  “And apparently so is the hangover.” He smiled and shook his head.

  “Hasn’t it only been a couple of hours? I thought hangovers didn’t happen until the next day.”

  “Obviously wizard hangovers happen when the magic runs out.”

  “I never want to touch the stuff again,” I said. I couldn’t envision how adults managed to drink alcohol if this was the result.

  “You don’t look well enough to travel,” Iverog said.

  “I think the wizard healing is working. I’m feeling better, except for this awful hangover.”

  “You aren’t going to like my next suggestion,” Iverog said. “Hair of the dog.”

  “What? I’m not eating any dog hair.”

  “It’s not actual dog hair, it’s just something they say about drinking again when you have a hangover. You need to try the wizard healing again.”

  “Not on your life! I’d rather try the dog hair. I am not doing that again.”

  “Hold now. I’m not suggesting you do the same thing you did last time. You only need a little bit, sip it this time. Pull just enough so you can function again.”

  It made sense in a perverse sort of way. A little more would boost me back up to functioning, and if I didn’t take more than necessary, it shouldn’t hurt so much on the way back down.

  “Fine,” I said. “It couldn’t be worse than how I feel right now.” There was only a single ley line overhead, so I pulled from it gently and let go almost as soon as I started, but it was enough. The magic was warm and soothing.

  “Hey, I can think now,” I said. I hadn’t realized how much the headache had clogged up my thoughts. I still felt stiff and sore, but I wasn’t going to chance another dose.

  The cobblestone road ended at the large silver gate ahead. I didn’t want to get much closer because I was afraid there might be guards. However, I was close enough now to perceive the silver color didn’t come from paint.