Chapter 27: Race against the clock

Makka came back with three completely different keys. One of them had a much longer stem, two to three times the shortest one. Their wards and cuts evidenced they opened completely different locks. Even their handles were nothing alike, I could hold the biggest of them with my punch, yet the other would barely fit two fingers.

Of course, none of that mattered at all. Neither of them would perfectly fit in the lock, and even if they did, they wouldn’t match its internal mechanism. I took one of them, not really thinking much about which, ending up with the smallest one. I felt its touch, made sure to turn it and inspect every nook. It doesn’t matter if it took one or ten minutes because the result was the same; I didn’t have the slightest idea about what to do.

To be accurate, I didn’t know where to start. The task itself was a sham; the Drak’oora didn’t want a simple key, they were looking for something more. I was convinced they knew the chest had some kind of formation inside, yet they had decided to give out bogus information. They had purposely hidden it from the participants. And that was a massive problem for me.

If I used my knowledge, even if it didn’t work in the end, they would know I had discovered it. I couldn’t even fathom the number of questions that would follow. However, not using it would be plain stupid; I couldn’t win unless I tried it.

I sat, not yet in my drawing position, to think some more of the issue. I have to draw a formation into an inanimate object. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and closed my eyes. If it was true that Spare and I were becoming one, if I had indeed begun to absorb his knowledge, then there was a chance I could make it work. If the deadline had been any longer, perhaps I could have read the other book Layan gave me, the one Makka had. Who knows if it had any helpful formation inside.

I discarded those thoughts, knowing they wouldn’t bring me any closer to the solution, and let my mind focus on my memories. The process itself is nothing like I had ever experienced; it’s close to the feeling you have when you experience something you have already seen or dreamed. You are the actor and the spectator of your own actions.

“It should be in our legacy,” Spare’s voice came as a whisper, reflecting my own meditative state.

I dug deeper, unearthing formations and glyphs I had never seen by myself. I was inside an abysmal dwell of knowledge, one I could get lost in if I wasn’t careful. Memories swirled around me, sucking my own identity inside them, attempting to devoid me of my own individuality; I was being assimilated into that network of information. I was becoming a true Drak’ga. And to be transparent, it frightened me to levels I had never experienced.

My eyes open by themselves; I could feel they were extended to their maximum, my eyelids hurt from the effort. I couldn’t stop shaking as my abrupt breathing barely managed to get inside my lungs. I stood up in a sudden jump, unable to contain myself for a second longer, striding from one place to another all-around Makka and Yaira, using whatever little space we had.

“Tarar!” I heard Yaira calling me, yet I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I couldn’t do anything else but going over one time and another over the sensation of being robbed of myself.

My walking got interrupted as I bumped into something. I should have seen what it was, yet until I blinked several times and raised my head, I didn’t notice it was Yaira. She was holding me by my shoulders. Her expression was dark as if she had seen a ghost.

“What is it?” Somehow, she managed to get rid of all her worries; her voice was full of sweetness and patience.

As soon as her hand’s cold touch and her voice’s charm settled inside me, I realized I was still shaking. I made an effort to control my breathing, reducing the trembling to a minimal quivering, and looked her up the eyes.

“I…” How could I explain what had happened? Were there even words to say that I was losing myself? “Spare is disappearing,” I finally settled in a low voice.

Her face relaxed as a deep and meaningful sigh left her mouth. I could see how her shoulders dropped, and the pressure on my shoulders softened. Her eyes remained squinted, however, evaluating the implications of what I had just said.

“Already?” It was not that much of a question rather than showing she understood what was happening. Her hand moved to my cheek, caressing it with her finger’s back. “When it happened to me,” she reddened a bit as she remembered, “I hid in the corner of the room and cried for an hour.”

There was no need for her to tell me that; she could have simply said it was normal and I would get over it. Yet, she decided to trust me with something she clearly was afraid of. And, for that, I could never be more grateful. Knowing I was not the only one who got deadly scared worked wonders to finally calm me.

“Each time, it will be easier,” she reassured me. I nodded, glad to confirm it worked like that. “But don’t force it.”

Don’t force it, I repeated for myself. I couldn’t afford to pass on the chance; there was no other way I could manage to finish the drawing by tomorrow. Maybe I still have time to go to the Compendium and se-

“Let me guess,” she interrupted me with a smug smile on her face. “You need to draw a formation on your key.”

I thought of protesting, bending the truth to avoid admitting it, but there was no way she would believe it. “Yes…” I finally admitted, dropping my head.

“Then,” she said after a short giggle, “leave that to us. Right, Makka?”

I raised my head just in time to see him giving me a thumbs up with a huge smile.

“But, but then yo-” I tried to say, but Yaira silenced me by placing her finger over my lips.

“We don’t stand a chance,” Makka chimed in with resignation in his voice. “Let us help you do it!”

“I don’t even know where to begin…” Not only I felt terrible about depriving them of their chance, but I also feared the responsibility it would put on me. If I failed, I would fail them too.

“That,” Yaira said, raising my chin to make me look directly at her, “we will trust you with.”

“I don’t have any saying, do I?” I sighed, quite clear there was no way around it.

“Of course you don’t!” She smiled as she said it. “So you better get to it!”

As she said those last words, she patted me on the back and moved to where Makka was. How to make it last in metal would be their work, so mine had been reduced to only figuring out what to draw. As if it is easy.

Trusting Yaira’s words about not rushing my memories, I finally set my mind on trying to draw it. Kneeling down, I made sure the key would touch my skin between my calf and hamstring. I placed a sheet of paper on my tights, holding it with one hand and taking the Drak’gath pen on the other.

I had an idea in mind, a wild theory, to be exact. I had always let Ink guide me, as any Inker worth of its title would do. Though, the difference with that day is that I would typically have a clear mental image of what I was trying to achieve. The key was nothing more than a placeholder, and my plan consisted of letting the Ink draw the rest.

You might wonder why that would ever work, and you’d be right. Not setting clear boundaries and allowing Ink to be free produces faulty results, failing to capture the image you wanted. Yet, I was betting it all in my new true sight. I had seen the thread exiting that lock, and I had confirmed it had a formation inside. I was gambling a few hours, if not the whole day, on the hunch that it would help me.

I closed my eyes, placing the Drak’gath pen over the paper, readying myself for the test run. If it worked, I would draw it on my own skin. Finding my inner peace, as you can probably guess, was much harder than other times. I had the pressure of the time, the excitement of knowing it was the first time drawing after I met Her, and to top it all, I had just been scared to death.

Finding my way to the appropriate mental state felt like a battle, me against my mind, which insisted on revisiting all of those three events. It was a slow fight; by the time I had somewhat reached that familiar whiteness, not having drawn a single line yet, I had completely lost track of time. I didn’t hear any voices, though, be it because I had already interacted with Her or because I was not exactly in my best shape.

Either way, I had finally gotten to a point where it would make sense to start drawing. I commanded my hand to follow the Ink’s will, starting by drawing up the shape of a key. I didn’t know its proportions, so I only focused on its materials and form, leaving everything else to the Ink. I didn’t know if it was working, but it did feel good. I could already feel the shaft being done, and it was time to make the cuts. I don’t know whether the lock is actioned only by the formation, or if it requires to turn the key insi-

An external force pushed me out of the white room. I was sent right back to my body, which I found tilted to the side, carrying strong momentum and threatening to crash with the ground. I had no time to brace for the impact, so I did what I could to stop my head from hitting the ground. I could afford a broken arm, especially my left one, which I didn’t use to draw, but not my head.

My body was about to impact when I heard someone’s voice right next to me. “Oh!” It touched the cold stone. “I didn’t see you there!” He finished as I bounced once before eventually lying on my side.

I grunted as I rolled to my back so that I could see who it was that had bumped into me. Of course, I thought as I saw Yaraq’s face, who else could it be? He didn’t see me? He’s smiling! His mouth was making absolutely no efforts to hide his ecstasy. He had purposely pushed me, and he wanted me to know so.

I was enraged, and my elbow hurt from the hit, but none of that made me panic. No, what alarmed me was that the square was almost empty. Long gone were all the people that had gathered around for the event. How much time has it passed? I turned my head to the side and saw Makka and Yaira rushing to me. They had just stood up and were coming to help me.

I raised my right hand, with my palm extended, trying to stop them from making any harsh decisions. It didn’t take a genius to know that Yaraq’s intentions, besides hurting me, were for us to retaliate. If we took vengeance, it was highly probable that we were disqualified. And he could always say he accidentally pushed me to walk away with it.

“Yaraq,” I muttered while sitting up, “don’t worry, I’m not hurt,” I said, feigning total indifference.

He scoffed, clearly not convinced by my act, and waved his hand at me. “I hope I haven’t interrupted you; I wouldn’t like to think I have wasted your past fourteen hours.”

He certainly got what he wanted, as my head turned and my wide-open eyes searched for my friend’s confirmation. To my dismay, they nodded, confirming that more than half our allotted time had already gone by.

“I have to go back to work,” I dryly said to Yaraq, turning even before I had finished. I only had ten hours left; every second was precious.

“Tell me,” I said once I was by my friend’s side, “that you have some good news.”

And they indeed had. They had come up with a formation and a set of old glyphs and runes that would make the drawing last for five minutes without contact with skin. It was not much, but there wouldn’t be any problem as long as one had it on their skin right before using it. They spent thirty minutes making sure I understood what it did, and then I had to dedicate almost twice that amount to memorize it. I practiced drawing it a few times, without entering communion, to make sure I could reproduce it.

The time to draw was dawning, not even nine hours, and I had to tattoo the key and the whole formation. It wouldn’t be difficult given I could enter the mental state soon enough, which, judging by my right leg refusing to stay still, would be hard.

“Maybe we should move somewhere else,” Makka said, pointing out that it was a dreadful idea to stay here, where Yaraq could pester me again. Hadn’t I been so nervous, I would have probably come up with the suggestion myself. While compulsively biting the skin on my fingers, I nodded.

“I have the perfect place!” Yaira shouted with a newfound energy that should have given me a hint towards her intentions.

She took a route that would have brought us to our cells, which of course, made perfect sense in our situation. However, a few buildings away from ours, she took a turn to the right. I quietly followed behind, trusting her judgment. Perhaps she thought our cells were too evident and would get us in trouble again. The truth, however, was that a few minutes later, we were standing right in front of the baths.

“You need to relax,” she said when I looked at her with angered eyes. I was too conscious of the time left, and the last thing I could think of was taking a bath.

“No, no. I need to draw! We have about eight hours, if I don’t hurr-” She didn’t interrupt me per se; she only smiled, a tender smile that said trust me, I know what I’m doing.

I didn’t feel like discussing with her, not after such an argument. I wasn’t thinking straight, blinded by the stress. Not without sighing first, I followed them inside. The building was not even half as populated as any other day at that same hour would have been. Clearly, everyone was either sleeping or rushing their tattoos.

“Here,” she pointed towards one of the shallowest areas of the pool, “sit and relax for five minutes.”

I did as she told me, crossing my legs, closing my eyes, and letting the steam wash away my worries. Before I realized it, my mind was empty; I wasn’t thinking of anything; I had entered the zone without wanting to. I let the feeling soak in, trying to get it locked into my memory so that when I wanted to reach it again, it would only be a matter of seconds.

“Tarar,” I heard Yaira whisper close to my ear, her breath caressing my skin. I slowly opened my eyes, turning my head and finding her head dangerously close to mine. I followed her sight, which wasn’t on me, and landed on her hand. “I know you can do it.”

Her hand reached for mine, and forcing it close, made me hold my Drak’gath pen. She had placed an Inkpot by the pool’s border, right next to my side. I kneeled, taking the key Makka was offering me, and forgot about the present. I closed my eyes, and immediately my mind was transported to the white room.

And I saw it. A thread that out-shone the other million of them. An interwinding network of strings that expanded to the infinite. A cluster of lights that shone yellow and orange and white. Yet, above all of them, there was one thread with a unique glow. I reached for it, grabbing it with my hand, and I felt my real body beginning a maddened carving session.

I run, tightly grasping the thread. I ignored everything else, following the serpentine path that it described. It was a race, a race against time; I didn’t know how much I had left. I sprinted while my real hand drew; I gasped for air as my stomach was being impregnated with Ink.

It was there; I had reached the end of the string. A lock that was not a lock, a chest that was not a chest; the formation that would reveal the secrets behind that deceptive box. I touched it. My finger tingled. I heard Her voice speaking words I could not understand and sensed the energy entering me. I was sent back to the pool.

“What time is it!” I shouted, sweat dripping out of me, loudly bouncing on the water.

I was surprised to see that not only Makka and Yaira were by my side, but a whole crowd had gathered around me. I had absolutely no clue why that would be the case, and at that moment, I didn’t care at all.

“Yaira!” I shouted, trying to wake her up from her trance. Her sight was lost, looking at me yet not at me at the same time. “Time?” Forcing an answer out of her.

She shook her head, even slapped her own cheek with her hand. “About forty minutes left.”

“Yes!” I jumped from my kneeling position. “Let’s go then!”

Not running, but neither taking a peaceful stroll, we made our way back to the square. It was time to see if my creation was up to it.