Yet adventure had sunk its claws into me, and I was not entirely certain I wished to shake them loose.
“Found it,” Tyrin announced, sounding as surprised as I felt. “I had to type it in.”
The look he cast me required no words, for we had to be contemplating the same matter.
Why would an exclusion zone possess a teleportation station?
The Pripyat station was 10,615 kilometers away. The journey bore an exorbitant price and included an energy drain that would persist for ten hours and forty minutes.
“Pardon me,” Tyrin said, summoning the assistance of the nearest guard. “What exactly does portal fatigue entail?”
The elf glanced up from his post by the door, his features sharp and aristocratic. Burnished armor etched with runes that pulsed with protective magic caught the overhead lights. Cold amber eyes swept over Tyrin and dismissed him.
“Is it the reading or the comprehension that has you stumped, gargoyle? Teleporting drains energy. Our system cannot be more precise than that. You are holding up the line. Either make your selection or exit the building.”
Anger flared in my chest at his blatant disrespect of my húskarl. I stepped forward, fingers itching for Silentium’s hilt, ready to meet the insult with violence. This elf knew not whom he addressed, and I would teach him some manners.
Do not!Tyrin’s hand settled on my forearm with an iron grip as he spoke into my mind.Attacking the Peace Council wardens will lead to certain death. We require answers, not entry into Valhalla.
I forced my jaw to unclench, knowing he was right. This battle would lead me no closer to the treasure currently torturing my mind with its demands.
I met the guard’s gaze and held it, watching his smirk falter as my pupils contracted to vertical slits. I offered no words, merely a hint of the creature within.
He shifted his weight.
My stance relaxed, and Tyrin’s hand fell away. I turned back to the terminal and selected the abandoned city, my thumb hovering over the confirmation button as I scanned the terms and conditions.
“Forgive me for not pressing Ieshim for more details on teleporting,” Tyrin said. “My oversight has left us unprepared.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Nor is there any reason to tarry.”
Before he could protest, I confirmed the purchase. The terminal hummed and requested payment, which I fed into the slot. The elven guard watched with narrowed eyes as we deposited our weapons and bags before retrieving our tickets and following the arrows to the portal platform.
Tyrin requested to teleport first, but I was brimming with curiosity and desperate to ease the anguish created by the distance between myself and my treasure. I stepped onto the platform and waited.
The world lurched.
Blinding light consumed me. Pressure crushed my chest until black spots danced across my vision. Nausea rolled through my gut, and my limbs filled with lead, buckling my knees. I stumbled forward and caught myself on something. When I opened my eyes, the world was dark and blurry.
I forced myself upright and blinked until my vision cleared. A string of lights encircled an A-Frame sign that readGET OFF THE PLATFORM NOW!in several languages.
Massive open windows provided enough moonlight to navigate the cracked concrete slab beneath me and the two steps down from the platform.
I stood within a portal station, yet there were no guards, no attendants, and no other travelers.
The scent of concrete, nature, rot, and something unfamiliar that I did not trust hung in the air. Moonlight spilled through gaping windows in the concrete, illuminating the remains of a colorful art collage painted on the opposite wall. Radiation had decayed the artwork, peeling it away in chunks and leaving behind a macabre warning of the poison still lingering in the air.
Disconcerted, I focused on my treasure only to realize I had made a mistake.
A second dusty platform held my sword and bag. I made my way to retrieve it as Tyrin and his belongings materialized. He stumbled and went down on one knee, gasping for breath for a moment before snapping to attention, scanning the station, and then addressing me.
“Where is everyone?”
“Not here.” I retrieved my sword and bag, feeling the full weight of each.
He must have heard the frustration in my tone, because he asked, “Not even the wolves?”
The artifact’s presence blazed in my mind like a beacon, closer, yet still impossibly distant. I shook my head. “The wolves did not teleport here.”
