The Queen's Red Lake

XXIII

The city is still full of excitement when we exit the building. However, there is tension within the group. Iris chooses to break the silence when we check into a local motel. Sasha crinkles her nose as she looks around. "I would have rather stayed at your mother's—" She trails off. "Sorry." She whispers underneath her breath.

I squeeze my fist and take in the double twin bed, stain reddish carpet, and basic TV on the stand. "I'll be next door." I mutter before slamming the door behind me. I walk next door and enter the room and pull the pillow to my face before screaming into it. Tears spill from my eyes and my body shakes and breaks out in sweats. "I don't know what to do." I cry over and over again.

I fall asleep with wet tears in my eyes and it is a new day when the others are knocking softly on my door. I groan and hurry to the front door before swinging it open in anger, "What?" I snarl.

It's Sasha. She's standing there, tall and strong but her features are confusion. She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it quickly. "We need you next door—" She starts. "We need to discuss our next move. Iris has something to show you." She pauses again and looks at my state. She starts from my curly hair that is falling wildly at my shoulder—I'm sure I need a brush—then she's looking at my attire noticing I'm still in the same clothes from yesterday and then she finishes with my red rim eyes.

"Take your time." She mutters.

I want to shout at her but she's disappearing before I can say anything. I slam the door and walk into the bathroom and grimace at how I look. I choose to scrub my face first—I can't believe I slept on motel sheets and pillows—ew. I then decide to shower. When I open the door there is a new set of clothes laying perfectly on the bed.

I frown—and put the clothes on with anger. I storm next door and push the door open. The others are standing around Iris and looking closely at the journal she is currently reading. Sasha is the first to notice my presence. She gives me a sympathetic look and I hate her—I don't want her pity. I don't need it.

Iris stands quickly and walks towards me before pulling me down onto the nearest twin bed, "Your father was a genius—" She starts.

I shrug, "He made sure to remind me every day." I tell her.

"No." Iris is shaking her head and flipping through the numerous pages. "He had huge plans for the city—"

I bend over and look closer at the tattered and battered journal that had an infinite number of pages, "Witchcraft." I mutter while grabbing the book. I continue to flip through numerous pages. There is a list of names, contracts, and construction plans. There were also spells for healing, elements, and infinite power. "What was he up to?" I question.

"I don't know." Iris speaks. "But, he has a section of names of people that owe him. This guy at this local bar apparently has ways of travel."

"Not through the traveling mirrors I hope—"

Iris shrugs, "It wouldn't hurt to check it out."

We set out around noon and I choose to stick to myself as the others whisper and talk. It doesn't take long to find the street, but it takes forever to find the bar. It's hidden away in the dark alley and down a few steps. We try to twist it unlock but it will not budge. I decide to beat on the door. A huge man slides it open, "Get away." He tries to shut the door, but I stop it with my foot—I grunt from the pain.

"We are here to collect—" I sneer. "—Alexander De Vil."

The huge guy swallows and takes a step to the side, "Follow me." He grunts. We walk down a long dark hallway and he pushes another door open. Music is the first thing to hit my face before a herd of screams follows. There are people everywhere jumping up and down to the band currently on the stage—also people surrounding the bar screaming for the bartenders to move faster.