Racing Time

Racing Time
"What do the colors mean?"
"A color for each faros chief. White means the territory is unclaimed." The little cartoon drove across the screen. "It looks like the chief of Kūrae is dying.”
“What happens then?”
“I have no idea. I don’t know anything about Kūrae.”
Derek hummed. “And the red place?”
“That is Koraha.”
A ley line snapped back from between Koraha and the neighboring unclaimed island. The red light rushed forward, taking over the area. 
The ley lines were shifting, but why? And what that meant for the Mediterranean.
Based on the way the flood of red spread along the Mediterranean coast, headed for Greece, the red chief would own most of the area within a few minutes and share a border with the dying chief.
Was that a good thing?
"And Mayhem will be able to navigate using these ley lines, too?"
"I am taking great care teaching my bestie how to do all the fancy things so we can cause all the trouble!" Flames scorched across the screen with the cartoon Havoc and a tiny Mayhem driving through them. "She is learning very quickly. It's Rye's car that's taking a long time!" The vents sighed. "But it's not his fault."
"His?"
"Rye's car is a boy." Another sigh. "He'd better cooperate. We have a naming convention going. May-May thinks Bedlam would suit him."
"Moon, she's chatty." Gavin appeared in the seat behind the driver's seat. 
"He's here..." The little jeep on the screen glared into the back seat. "You should know that I don't like you!"
Gavin chuckled. "I'm so popular." Gavin leaned on the backrest of the driver. It lifted up with a slow whir, leaning away from him, making him laugh and lean on Derek's chair. "I'm impressed that you're going... and I will say it's a good idea."
"What are you putting my boyfriend through?"
"Oh, no. This isn't my fault. This was in motion for years before he even met you." Gavin shifted closer, lowering his voice. "He'll be happy to see you."
Derek bit his lip. "I wish I had just gone with him."
"Nonsense. You needed to get fitted for your hilt if you're going to be on the dueling team."
Derek frowned. "And... I'm supposed to be?"
"Of course!" Gavin grinned. "Think of all that time you can spend rooming with your boyfriend?"
Derek blinked. "What?"
"You'll see," Gavin sat back and pointed out the window. 
Derek followed his finger as Havoc rolled onto a stretch of dry, barren highway. In the distance, a lone building bobbed among the craggy rocks and sand. 
"Where are we?"
"Nevada!" The map expanded until a tiny Havoc appeared on a highway heading southeast through Nevada, just outside of Las Vegas. "We'll be hopping over to Arizona soon."
The desert blurred by to another desert, a forest highway, then the sun sank lower on the horizon and a sign declaring they were heading south of I-45, heading toward Houston flew by overhead. A collection of cars appeared over the hills ahead and behind, then they were gone and another empty stretch of I-45 surrounded them with different tail lights ahead. 
"Welcome to Houston!"

Nikolias grabbed his secondary set of needles and traced the second flow of power, stomach churning. He'd stretched the fifteen minutes to an hour, and his anger with Judith was the only thing keeping him focused. She probably thought it was too late to help. The man in her office would be able to tell her the last time the door had been opened. 
She was going to pay for this. 
They'd all pay for this. 
Two minutes left, and all they'd managed to do was keep her on the line, arguing about the price of the stock for the buyback. Theodore had forced her to reveal the buyback premium and make it official, while Ian had set up a premium price higher than hers using whatever contacts he had. 
People were already selling stocks to him, so within a few days, Nikolias would own over seventy percent of the company. The rest would come swinging back when he organized a dual listing. That was great for any future Elowen doors he encountered, but it wasn't going to open this one in time. 
He'd looked at every inch of the door and the surrounding area, pried off big sheets of plaster until he'd reached the studs on either side. He'd stacked them up to form a step stool to reach the area above the door. The enforcers were still arguing. A fight had broken out, but he didn't look back.
Where the hell was the signature, the anchor, a lynch pin? Every lock had to have one. Was it on the other side? That would make it incredibly secure, but horrible for maintenance.
He glanced down at the timer and knocked on the stone, finding it solid, but hollow-sounding above the doorway.
Seconds had stretched into minutes, there still wasn't enough time. 
There was only one place left to check. He glanced toward the ceiling and summoned his spear to carve a hole in it.
"It's five in New York already," Judith said airily. "The markets will be closed. I'll call back when the sales have gone through."
Nikolias leaped for the hole he'd made, using it as hold and tearing the drywall down to expose the stone beneath. Another needle, and the time stopped again. 
"I want an oath for the transfer of authority."
She laughed. "Before I get the stock? I think not."
She hung up. Nikolias could hear her laughter in his mind and see the screen on her computer. A notification about the transfer of his father's stocks was there along with the all the other transfers that were going through.
She clicked on one of them, and she shrieked. "That little bastard!"
His name replaced his father's as a majority shareholder and the percentage inched up and up and up. She pushed to her feet and rounded the desk. 
"That little brat thinks he can play me?" She snarled, opening the safe and keying in the code. The door swung open and she called someone. "Activate the clearing countdown on all doors in Houston. At the rate he's going, he'll own the rights and open the doors—" She gasped as she reached in and found nothing there. "What the... Where is it?"
Nikolias grimaced at shift in his mind, ripping another chunk off until he could see the glowing alcove just above the doorway. 
"I found the anchor!" He yelled down, pulling himself up into the ceiling and sliding along the rafters to reach it. 
The light flickered and flashed blue in warning. Glyphs and runes floated over the surface of the orb, whispering. He set his bare hands on it, shutting his eyes. 
"Please help me," he whispered, pressing his forehead to the orb. "They don't deserve to die like this. Please."
A jolt of lightning ripped through him, burning his hand and his forehead until he could smell smoking flesh, rejecting his request, his attempts to pull at the underpinnings of the anchor.