37. And The Plot Developes

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"Where!" I mean to ask, but instead it comes out as an exclamation.

Forgetting my pounding head, I jump up, making Lager cast me a concerned glance, which I ignore and instead focus on Peter.

"Uh-well, I can't be sure, but I'm almost certain he's in this cave not too far away from the Core. If you have a map, I can show you it's location."

I remember running away from a Lyncher with Becky and Zero, using a cave to hide. Dad must have had the same idea. Like father like daughter.

"Lager." I say, turning to him and barely being able to control my jitters. "Do you have a map?"

Lager doesn't seem happy about any of this, but he reluctantly lifts his hand and snaps, a map of Dalton forming from just darkness. The map lands in his hand and I jump over, snatching it and running over to Peter.

I grab Peter's hand and he yelps as I drag him to the bed, but not before slamming the door in Sylvia's face. I hear a growl and she flings it open again only to receive the full force of Lager's glare. She immediately drools her shoulders, Boeing her bead as she back out of the room and closes the door quietly.

I lay the map out on the bed, taking a second to study all the interesting features before shoving Peter in front of it.

He stumbles, his face red as he rubs the back of his head, and I realize I haven't let his hand go yet.

Quickly I release, taking a step away so he doesn't get the wrong idea.

"Hurry!" I say, snapping him out of it. I bounce on my feet nervously as Peter leans over the map, observing it with a scrutinizing look as Lager stands to the side, watching him completely un-amused.

Silence envelopes the room.

After a minute of nervous anticipation on my part has passed, I finally break.

"Are you just going to stare at it all night? Where is he?" I say harshly, then since when I realize just how rude I was being.

Peter grimaces, before glancing up at Lager.

"You don't suppose you could create a pencil too, could you?" He inquires.

Lager scowls, expression going dark, before he flicks his pinky finger. A pencil materializes out of shadow just like the map, and it floats in the air, before shooting towards Peter at lightning speed.

He yells, putting his hands up while I gasp, but at the last second the pencil slows, controlled by a tiny tendrils of darkness that leaves the lead point only inches from the space between Peter's eyes.

Peter slowly lowers his hands, gulping.

I turn to Lager, putting my hands on my hips. "Now that was uncalled for." I scold.

But Lager ignores me.

"The next time you think to ask me, a Darkling High Commander, to use my powers for something as useless as a pencil, think twice, or else that pencil may find its mark next time."

I shiver at how dark and frightening his voice sounds. Someone must be in a bad mood.

The pencil drops into Peter's hands, and he looks at it like it might come alive again and stab him, before slowly enclosing his fist around it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lager smirk at Peter's fear, and give him a pointed glare.

Sneakily, Peter extends his hand and puts the tip of the eraser on the paper, right smack dab in the middle of a familiar volcano land feature.

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