“Please let me look at your magical items,” she asked.
I gave her a thin smile, and began pulling things out. Some of them, like the alchemy potions, easily fit in a real bag. Others, like the seven-foot-long Spear of Nine Spheres, appeared in my hands like a magic trick. When she passed the device over it, the golden rod turned white. The knight raised her eyebrows, but seemed unconcerned. Maybe the Spear wasn’t cursed after all.
“Alright. Thank you.” She nodded to us, and then looked past me to the next approaching guest.
“Damn,” I said once we were inside. “Never seen one of those devices before.”
“We call those Samarthi’diva in Dakhdir,” she said. “They measure magical force in sigils or items. A mage can enspell it to look for particular types of magic. That cruddy old spear of yours must be something special to glow like that.”
“It will be, assuming I can get it fixed.”
We passed another doorman inside the Grand Hall, and turned down a gold and white marble corridor, following a babbling hum of noise. Suri walked ahead of me, and I couldn’t help but stare at the way the dress slid and shimmered over her ass and legs. It was hypnotic, but checking her out was a guilty pleasure. When I tried to reach out telepathically to Karalti, all I heard was a furious whine.
We broke out into an enclosed garden. It was painfully noisy. Musicians played fiddles and drums, jugglers twirled stacks of plates on sticks, dancers spun ribbons of silk, and people crowded together in laughter and chatter. Other than the guards stationed around the walls, I was the only person in armor.
Dammit. I should have worn something nicer. My parents had drummed it into me that good Korean boys were always well-dressed. Because of this, I’d stuck to grunge fashion on principle, but I currently felt like That Guy who’d turned up to prom with his shirt untucked and no tie.
“So, what are your thoughts on tonight’s shenanigans?” I asked Suri. We didn’t pause at any of the food or drink stations, heading instead for the back of the garden. “Ready for a fight?”
“Always. And I think this place is a bloody powder keg waiting for a match,” she replied. “But they’ve taken precautions, I’ll give ‘em that. About one in every ten guests here is a soldier from the Vulkan Garrison. There’s a couple of mages, too. Toth has a Sage with him.”
“Father Matthias. He’s a good man.”
“Hopefully he’s a good bodyguard,” she replied tersely. “Anyway, you and me have been assigned to the noble targets because His Majesty thinks that we’re more likely to take a bullet for our primaries. You’ve got the Duke. Unsurprisingly, I have Andrik.”
“Matthias told me about that. How do you feel?”
“How do you think?” Suri replied quietly. “I dressed to look nice, sure, but the little weasel’s been eyeing me like a fresh rack of lamb. There’s different types of ogling, and some of them I’m okay with, and some of them I’m not.”
I swallowed the impulse to ask if whether or not my kind of ogling was okay. This wasn’t about me. “Want me to tell him to get fucked?”
Suri made a sound of disgust. “He’s a blue-blooded royal cunt. He’ll have you staked if either of us say ‘boo’ to him. If that wasn’t the case, I’d do it myself... though backup is always appreciated.”
I looked around, but couldn’t spot Andrik. “Aye aye, comrade.”
Suri’s stride faltered, and her back stiffened. She turned on me, and I nearly ran into her chest. “What did you just call me?”
I blinked. “I… uhh… was being a smartass?”
The corner of Suri’s eye twitched as she tried to hold my gaze, but after a couple of seconds, it faltered. She looked… shaken?
“Don’t ever call me that again,” she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard. “Not even as a joke. I know you didn’t mean anything by it... but… please.”
I leaned away from her. “Uhh... okay? No worries. I thought that was standard address in the Pacific Alliance?”
It was her turn to look puzzled, and then I remembered: she didn’t know. She had some kind of VR amnesia.
“It’s… You’re only the third person to ever talk about this shit to me,” Suri reached out and grabbed my shoulder. Hard. “Australia. The Pacific Alliance. This ‘Total War’. Sometimes, I admit it… I get flashes, hunches about something just out of my reach. But mostly what I remember is what was done to me by the other Starborn I knew. They used to sling that word around while they were torturing me.”
My skin prickled with a rush of fear – and anger. I dropped my voice to a hiss. “What? Players were torturing you? Inside Archemi? Did they have blue halos like mine, or gold, like Rin’s?”
Suri looked down. I saw her throat work, and then she let go of me. She turned her head away, then reached up to push a lock of hair back behind her ear. Her fingers were trembling.
“Oh hell, I’m sorry,” I said. “I was just asking because… Well, this has some major implications for like, the entire world and the Devs… uh… the Architects. It’s hard to explain–”
“Don’t. Please.” Suri shook her head with small, rapid shakes. She was no longer able to meet my eyes. “Look – I know that there’s something beyond this world, alright? I know you and Rin and those ‘Architects’ know something I don’t about Archemi. And I don’t want to know what it is, okay? Some things should just be left alone.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. I wasn’t sure what else to say. The only explanation I could think of for how Suri was even here was genuinely awful. I was about to try to comfort her when the crowd parted, and Kirov came striding toward us.
“Hector!” He boomed, throwing his arms up. He was dressed in his armor and helm, the bronze disks and red lacquer mirror-polished. “A pleasure to see you again! Ahh, and I see you have worn your best clothes for the night’s festivities! But rytier, you appear to have some blood on your face.”
“Figured I’d warm up before the Slayer got here.” I shook his hand and clapped his arm, glancing back at Suri.
“My goodness, Lady! You look incredible!” Kirov turned to her next. “May I plant a kiss upon your hand and pay my respects?”
“No, thanks. Not right now. I better get back to Andrik,” she said, backing away from us. “Excuse me.”
I rubbed the aching bridge of my nose. Nice one, Hector. You’ve managed to screw both the women in your life in the space of thirty minutes, and not in the sloppy, happy way.
“Oh, well. Still, that reminds me! Have you met the Voivode yet?” Kirov was apparently oblivious to Suri’s misery as he pivoted back to me.
“No sir, I have not,” I sighed.
“Then come! I, Ur Kirov, shall introduce you to the luminaries of Taltos!” Kirov was flushed in the cheeks and nose, and clearly had a bit to drink. Before I could ask him ‘can we not?’, he had looped his arm through mine and dragged me off into the snake pit.
Kirov pulled me along the floor like an overeager dog straining at his leash, coming to a stop in front of a trio of people dressed in long, thick robes trimmed with gold, silver, and fur. The woman had a pinched, button face and wrinkles around her lips; the older man was balding and beaky, and the other had the scowling, blocky features and paunchy belly of an old soldier gone to seed.
“Your Grace, may I present you with the man who faced the Slayer in single combat and nearly brought him to bay!” Kirov burst into their conversation like a wrecking ball, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders. “Dragozin Hector, this is the Voivode of Czongrad and his lovely wife, and this is Lord Rasiv Braska, master of the Royal Treasury.”
“Uh... pleased to meet you.” I was already searching the room frantically for some way to get out of this.
“A pleasure,” the Voivode replied. He had a droll voice and piercing gray-green eyes. The hand he offered me was soft and limp, but dry as crisp new dollar bills. “Nearly brought him to bay, you say? What prevented you from doing so?”
“It started out as singl
e combat, but it didn’t stay that way.” I spotted my salvation across the room: an interesting-looking NPC who had a vendor marker and a HUD highlight. He was an unusually tall, patrician Lysidian man with short, neat, silver hair, and he was standing beside a display table laid out with items of jewelry and weapons.
“You’re the Starborn who is shepherding us tonight? Aren’t you the barbarian man with the dragon?” The Voivoda of Czongrad asked me. She had a shrill voice to much her lemon-pucker mouth.
“Yes ma’am, that’s me.” I pointed over at the table. “Speaking of security detail, I should really go and see what that guy’s selling. He might have items that could, uh, even the odds a bit in case the Slayer shows up and brings some friends again.” I faked a smile and backed up. “Excuse me.”
The Voivode looked like he wanted to argue with me, but before he had a chance, I extracted myself out from under Kirov’s arm and fled.
This was literally the worst kind of party I could think of. I didn’t hate all parties – I liked the kind where I knew everyone in the house, and we sat around with booze and video games and anime and had a good time. But this fancy-pants formal crap? This shit was a special level of Hell.
I held up a hand to a waiter who tried to offer me wine - I didn’t drink on the job - and fled to the vendor. As I got closer, I was able to see the sign at his table, and felt my spirits lift. He sold stat and ability-boosting accessories, not something I’d seen around the city.
“Good evening, sir,” he said to me when I was close enough. “And what a sight for sore eyes. I’ve been looking for you and those like you since I arrived to trade in Taltos.”
“I bet you have,” I replied. “Adventurers, or Starborn?”
He winked at me. “Both. Now, what can I help you with?”
“Can I see a list of items and their bonuses and prices?”
“Of course.” The vendor held up a long hand, and my HUD came to life, displaying a virtual shop window. It was similar to all the other stores I’d used: a grid display of items. If you hovered over one by thinking about its item name, you got its stats.
This guy had two categories of items: equippables and consumables. I looked over the equipment first, and several of them caught my eye.
Brawler's Wristband
19 Armor
5% Evade
-3% Magic Defense
+5 Attack Power
+2 Str and Con
250 gold olbia
Can be upgraded.
Simple wristbands studded with enchanted green crystal.
Black Belt
+20% HP
+5 Str
200 gold olbia
Cannot be upgraded.
A black cloth belt from Tuungant worn by the monks of Burna. It fortifies health.
Witch's Bracelet
+10% magic defense
+2% magic power
350 gold olbia
Can be upgraded.
A finely made silver bracelet with crushed bluestone crystal worked into the metal.
Besides these three, he had elemental resistance rings, a necklace that increased attack speed, and earrings that boosted defense. I really wanted the Brawler’s Wristband and Black Belt for me and the Bracelet for Karalti - but damn, they were expensive. Trying not to openly wince, I navigated to the vendor’s consumables, and found an array of mana crystals that could be worked into weapons to give them different elemental effects. These were not as expensive as the accessories, but still pricey. The cheapest, the Cinderstone, still cost 50 gold pieces.
“How do you attach these mana crystals to weapons?” I asked.
“Ah. Well, you can’t attach these stones to most common weapons. Once you are Level 20 or so, the world of magical weapons begins to open up to you,” the vendor replied. He looked a little crestfallen that I hadn’t immediately jumped on anything.
I considered that for a moment, then unequipped the Alpha Rod and swapped it back for the Spear of Nine Spheres. “Like this weapon?”
The man was visibly startled at the sight of the Spear. His eyes widened as he looked over the battered weapon. The Spear of Nine Spheres wasn’t terribly impressive - but it obviously meant something to him.
“Aesari design...” he murmured. “Do you know how much this is worth?”
“No?” I’d floated the Spear at the Weapon Shop just to see how much they’d have paid for it, and it had been no more than 10 silver rubles.
“An artifact like this is worth a fortune,” he whispered back. “To the right buyer. Say… two thousand olbia?”
Two thousand gold was enough to buy us better equipment. A lot of it. I thought back to the message I’d received this morning about Baldr somehow taking over Ilia, and swallowed. Karalti’s saddle had maxed us out. We had 3 copper litz left to our names. But even as I thought about it, the Mark of Matir twitched.
“It’s not for sale,” I replied weakly. “But I’ll remember your offer. Sorry to say, I can’t afford anything right now-”
“Then it is just as well that someone is interested in sponsoring your quest to bring down the Slayer of Taltos, isn’t it?”
A woman I hadn’t heard - or seen - padded up beside me, light on her feet. She was rail-thin, dressed head to toe in scarlet. Red slippers and gloves, red breeches, a form-fitting doeskin tunic cut to her razor curves, and a red capelet and hood that was drawn up around her face. The reds varied between a dark burgundy and a brilliant scarlet. She was very small-breasted, practically flat. Her arms were slender enough that I could have put my hand all the way around her bicep, but her legs were corded with hard muscle. She showed no skin at all, including her face. She wore a full-face white ceramic mask with angelically beautiful, realistically sculpted features. The mask crawled with small red sparks, like embers.
Uh-oh. One of the unspoken rules of RPGs was that anyone who dressed in only one color was bad news. “And you are...?”
“A potential patron.” Her voice was soft and raspy. “Call me Red.”
Chapter 29
The vendor looked between me and Red, blinking in obvious confusion.
I flashed her a toothy smile. “I already have a patron, thanks. The Volod.”
Red’s mask had human features: serene, feminine, and mysterious, the eye holes shrouded with black silk. There was no way to tell who – or what – she was. “I’m well aware. Would you walk with me?”
“No,” I replied. “No offense, but I avoid keeping single company with obvious assassiny-types.”
Red dipped her head in acknowledgement and reached behind her back. I tensed, but she came up with a pouch, not a blade. She flourished with her fingers like a magician, rolling the small clinking bag on her palm, and opened it to pull out... a rose. With a long stem, AND thorns.
“Some say there’s no difference between mummers and assassins, but what is entertainment without the scent of danger?” she rasped, extending the flower to me. “For your lady.”
“Uhh... thanks?” I took it gingerly, but didn’t sniff it. There were more drugs than cocaine that could get into your body through your nose.
“You’re welcome,” Red replied. “Now, perhaps a minute of your time?”
My monkey brain screamed two words in regards to this woman: ‘hell’ and ‘no’. But rational, non-monkey Hector could see the advantage of gathering intel. “Sure. But we stay here, inside the manor.”
“Of course.” Red bowed gracefully to the accessories guy, and paced off ahead of me, lithe as a gymnast.
“What do you want?” I asked her, once we were out of earshot of anyone in particular. “Because you’re clearly an uninvited guest, and half the Knights of the Red Star are here tonight. All I have to do is say the word, and your ass is grass.”
“An interesting expression,” Red replied. “As for what I want? Hmm. Averting the genocide of the Meewfolk of Vlachia would be nice. I should also like to get revenge on my father for all he did to me, remove the usurper of Vlachia’s throne, a
nd have my nails done - in no particular order. I come to you about only two of those things.”
Damn. This lady had big brass ones. “I’m guessing it’s not to talk about your daddy issues and get a manicure.”
“No.”
“Good, because I suck at nail polish. I always get it all over my cuticles.”
“I overheard the Volod discussing the eradication of the Meewfolk tonight, while your lovely Dakhari friend was freshening up in the ladies’ room,” Red remarked, pushing open the door that led into the garden. “He was working out the specifics with Lazrov Urgas, the Captain of the Vulkan Garrison. Our sovereign will be going ahead with that order if tonight’s charade does not provide him with a scapegoat. I don’t suppose you knew that.”
“Well, I overheard him talking about how he wants to watch Suri peg me on the back of my dragon while he jacks off with a pair of salad tongs,” I replied. “See? I can make up straight-faced bullshit as well.”
“Unlike your sexual fantasies, what I just told you will soon come to pass.” Red almost sounded amused. “I would urge you to carefully eavesdrop tonight and make up your own mind.”
I frowned. “You sound pretty sure about this.”
“I am. Non-humans are already being turned back at the border,” Red continued in her whisky-and-smoke voice. “Mercurions have started to vanish from the Tanners' District. Rumor is they’re being interrogated and killed. The International District - Cat Alley - is in bad straits. Children are being removed from their parents there. I want you to consider if what will soon happen there is worth having on your conscience.”
“And what’s the alternative?”
“Accept a down payment, enough to buy one of the baubles you were lusting for. Leave tonight, retire to a fine inn with your friend and your dragon, sleep easily until morning, and live happily in the knowledge that you chose the lesser evil.”
“And wake up to a bloody social purge and riots in the streets?” I snorted, looking up at the eaves of the manor roof. Karalti might have been up there, her scales bending the starlight and rendering her invisible in the shadows. “How about ‘no’?”
Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset Page 61
