I asked my partner to get out the map of the frontier. I had an idea of what to do with the keys, and had to convince myself I was right. The three key points glowed red. “Add the groundskeeper.” A fourth sign appeared on the map. “Now connect the points to make a cross.” Two dotted lines stretched between the bosses, intersecting in a corridor. We hot-tailed it there to find the wall already firing sparks, an indication it was concealing something. Frost Strike hit, I pulled out a few bricks, and we were presented with another niche. Instead of a chest, the plinth bore three scrolls, one for each of us. Eredani took his first and burst out laughing. The reward was a full map of the location.
Map updated
Description of changes: You have received a full map of the Demon-Hunter Training Camp.
Familiarization with current location: 100%.
The system showed entrances to a dungeon, a strange prixi settlement, the Cave of Knowledge, and all the demon ore, clover, and pine patches. It was ideal, and for that very reason, almost useless. For both my own and Eredani’s location familiarization readings were close to seventy. The remaining thirty could be made up by ourselves in just a couple of days, by boosting Cartographer concurrently.
Two things remained to do — exhale heavily, and enjoy the updates.
Shoulder protectors from the Unending Happiness set
Description: An epic object. Part of a set (4 out of 4). Material: thin leather.
Protection from physical and magic attack: 40
Luck: +5
Intellect: +5
Damage sustained reduced by 10%
Chance of avoidance increased by 10%
Probability of critical strike increased by 5%
Bonus for set:
2 out of 4: Experience increased by 10%
2 out of 4: Luck +10
4 out of 4: Chance of embodiment of a +1 object increased by 15%
4 out of 4: Luck +20
After short deliberation we decided we needed a break. I would relax a little in reality, and Eredani would explore the frontier fully. Then we would set out for the Cave of Knowledge. After all, I had to find out sometime what was so unique about tieflings. So far the advantages of the race were not obvious to me. Although the tail… Yes, the tail ruled!
Chapter 8
MATTY’S IRONED shirt and shaved face annoyed me with their perfection. He was going somewhere again that morning, but didn’t deem it necessary to share his plans with me. I don’t know what upset me more: his secrecy or the fact that I hadn’t slept, but the morning was definitely lacking in festive colors.
“Bro, has something happened?” I just barely raised my head, not concealing my displeasure. I wondered if he was playing dumb or really didn’t get it. “I’m not great,” said the new-sprung fashionista, staring at his plate.
“What’s not great? Problems with studying?” I tensed up, and my cup didn’t even make it to my mouth.
Since the very start of the venture, I had suspected the learning process would be hard for him, but I’d forbidden myself to think about it. Matty’s lack of confidence could scotch more than one Napoleonic plan. I hastened to comfort him. “You can always retake the exam. Nobody’s demanding top marks.”
“Huh?” Matty ceased his long contemplation of his breakfast. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. Everything’s fine there. I reckon I’ll pass everything. It’s something else.”
“The kids? Liz?”
“No. I’ve got a problem with the task. I made some rods and took them to a master, and he turned his nose up at them. He said they needed tempering, and not just anywhere, but in the bowels of Mount Shatri. The dungeon there is level two hundred, and first I have to deal with the boss.”
Now I knew the gist of the problem, I could relax. Eredani was right: the further along the chain the task, the greater its demands on resources.
“What about your buddies? The ones you used to hang out with. Surely there must be someone?”
“They’ve all disappeared for two months, so I’m a bit stuck. I tried getting some dodgy guys together, but the only ones who’ll do anything for free are either small fry, or cowards. Or cowardly small fry. I’ve been there five times, but haven’t got further than the first boss. Last time I went with a bunch of serious headcases.”
“That’s it!” I blurted out, fully awake now. Matty blinked a couple of times in his confusion.
“What’s it?”
“Headcases! We need to find out about the Vartalinskys.” I remembered Eredani’s request and made a note in my phone.
“What do ‘Vartalinskys’ have to do with anything?” he asked, offended. “I was talking about my task.”
“Yes, I get it already. You need steamrolling through Shatri, right?”
“Right.” He nodded dolently. “But I can wait until you leave the nursery.”
I promised I’d think about how to help him, and hurried to work. Solving Matty’s problem was a priority. Unfortunately, that depended on two variables: the situation at work, and the unforgivingness of a certain fickle character.
“Good morning, Helen.” I greeted my subordinate with overt politeness. She was preparing the hall for our lesson. “I shall be giving the lesson myself today.” She stiffened, a chair in her hands, and didn’t hurry to return my salutation. After a second’s confusion, she carefully put the chair in its place and came toward me with a very resolute air.
“Good morning, Mr. West.” The tone was cold and composed, although her hair, ever the bird’s nest, ruined the whole image. Definitely a Gorgon as a child. “Is that because of what I said?”
“No, why?” I hurried to mollify her, thinking up an excuse on the spot. “Nathan wants to see how I’m getting on.”
“Fine.” Helen nodded, still scowling, and continued, “About yesterday. Let’s put this to bed now. You were right.”
“Yes?” I was surprised but, being a man of experience, wanted to confirm: “About what?”
“You are old.” The little monster put the record straight.
Her conclusion was so unexpected I perched myself on the edge of a table. “Ri-i-ght!”
She was rattled now and added, “No, I don’t mean you’re really old and I’m just not old. Um, I wanted to say…”
“I understand already,” I said, cutting short her torment. “Let’s pretend I didn’t hear anything yesterday, okay? I’m old and hard of hearing.”
“Okay.” She agreed quickly. We both felt a little uneasy, and it was just the time to close the subject and take advantage of the situation.
“Great.” I gave her a friendly smile and rubbed my hands. “Helen, I seem to remember you offering your help with Barliona. Is that offer still open?”
“Of course!” Helen gladly agreed to assist Matty, without me having to talk her round. After all, a paladin is not just a character in a game; it’s also an internal philosophy. At least it was with this little brat.
Throughout the whole lesson I couldn’t stop myself contemplating the problem genius. A lanky lad with a far-off look. His kind were either self-reliant, or eternally misunderstood, both of which made them awkward to their nearest and dearest, and avoidably weird to strangers. You had to at least try to understand them, and I never wanted to.
Looking at the busy circle of psychologists, I thought they definitely did not have a problem with empathy. It was impossible to work effectively in that sphere if you couldn’t understand what another person was feeling. It was difficult for me to even breathe the same air as, much less interact with, the genius, so, understanding my effectiveness working with such a contingent, I transferred management of the process to the team of shrinks, and settled down to observe. I really wanted to open Empathy in Barliona.
By the end of the lesson, I’d realized the key thing was the desire to share another’s feelings and strive to show compassion. I gave myself such a tongue-lashing that I felt for the unfortunate boy in every way until he left.
I was itching to take
pity on somebody else, but there were no ideal candidates in the office. By way of a chain of association, I did arrive at one possibility. No big deal, of course, but I considered that yesterday’s boss in Barliona was a sign from on high.
“Hello!” A familiar voice came from the speakers. Andrea hadn’t changed her phone number, and I hadn’t deleted it, but it had long since migrated from “favorites” to the general mass of several hundred contacts, and got lost there.
“Hi! It’s Brody.”
“Hi… Has something happened?”
“Ummm, no,” I muttered, becoming aware of the idiocy of what I was doing, but it was too late to back down. “Mom told me a few days ago about Jackie. I was just calling to express my condolences.”
“Oh, thank you…” Andrea was shocked. “It’s just a little strange you’re calling now. Mom died two years ago.”
“Oh, Really?” Great, thanks mom! “I didn’t know. My commiserations anyway.” I wasn’t lying. At that moment I really was hurting. From realizing my own stupidity.
“Come on, Bro,” she chuckled, not buying my sincerity. “You couldn’t stand her.”
“It was mutual.”
“I’d have to agree with you,” she laughed softly, no anger or offense in her voice. “But she never said a single bad word about you. She respected my choice.”
“Yeah? Strange. When we were alone together she never held back.”
“I can imagine. A practicing psychologist has to be able to do that expertly.”
“Well, it’s water under the bridge now. How are you?”
“I’m good. Married, happy. Before you ask, Mom managed to approve the candidate. What about you?”
“I’m happy for you. Me too. I mean I’m a bachelor and no less happy.”
“Still quite the joker, I see. You’re married to your job and you won’t betray it. I remember.”
“Something like that.” I had nothing else to say, and there was an uncomfortable pause. Evidently that particular means of opening Empathy wasn’t happening. I wasn’t experiencing compassion, or any other emotion for that matter. Which I was glad about. “Well, Andrea, I’ve said what I called to say. I should be getting off. Thanks for hearing me out.”
“Thanks for calling. It was nice to hear from you.”
“You too. Bye.”
The beeps left me alone… with Victoria, who was looking disapprovingly askew at me. The secretary had for some reason entered the hall and become witness to my conversation. “Hello, Brody. How’s your socialization coming along?”
“Hello, Victoria. Just fine, thanks.”
“Am I to understand you’re trying to rekindle relations with your ex-wife? Bad idea.”
“Are you going to condemn all my intentions? What’s with all this poking your nose into other people’s affairs? And anyway it’s rude to eavesdrop.”
“Brody, it’s a bad idea not because I don’t like it, but because your ex-wife is expecting a baby soon.”
“Yes? What’s that got to do with me? It’s not mine.”
“I did warn you. Attempting socialization by means of your ex-wife will not be perceived in your favor.”
“Victoria, I called my ex-wife to express my condolences on the death of her mother. What’s wrong with that? And how the hell do you know what’s going on in Andrea’s life?”
Amazingly I managed to embarrass the impenetrable secretary. “I beg your pardon,” she said, pursing her lips in embarrassment. “The Security Service wanted to speak with her, but didn’t want to disturb her again. I thought—”
“I get it,” I cut her off. What the woman thought was of no interest to me. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll be off home. I have unfinished business in Barliona.” I left the hall, escorted by Victoria’s silent gaze. What, I wondered, had she come in for in the first place?
At home I was greeted by a beaming Matty. “Brody, I passed the mid-course exam! Ninety–two out of a hundred. I never got results like that in school.”
“Congratulations!” I didn’t have time to cringe away before my friend had me in a bear hug, and there was nothing for it but to hug him back. I was truly thrilled with his success.”
“Thank you!” Matty relinquished his hold on me and grumbled, “It was nicer hugging you before. Have you noticed how much you’ve sagged in a month?”
I squinted at the mirror. He wasn’t joking. Four weeks of intensive dancing in Barliona had shown themselves. My spare tire hadn’t gone anywhere, of course, but it was noticeably deflated. And my belly had stopped greedily sucking my belt buckle into my belly button. Soon I would be able to see all of me without the aid of a mirror.
“I’ll never catch you though!” I couldn’t resist a sarcastic retort. “You beauty, running every morning. Where do you go?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He paused, feeling my support, and admitted: “I’ve been going to see a psychiatrist.”
“What for?”
“I’m learning to look at the world again. Prophylactic measures against burning up and stuff like that.”
“No, I get that bit. But why in reality?”
“Because I don’t want to do it in a pod. I was given a choice and I chose reality. I don’t go into town very often. I see the kids out of town. It’s an excuse to wander round the streets. Brody, shit, I had no idea how much everything’s changed. Three years, and it’s like landing on a different planet.”
“Probably. When you see it every day, it seems natural. Why do you go to the psychologist in a shirt and shaven?”
“I’m working on myself,” he said enigmatically, scratching his poor chin. I decided to leave it at that. It was no time to try and solve both our problems at once; it wouldn’t work.
“I found you some raiders. Here’s the number. Her name’s Helen. She promised to speak with her guys, and they’ll help you get through the dungeon.” The jubilation on Matty’s face was so genuine that this time I didn’t hold back and hugged him myself. Man, it felt good! I hadn’t really done anything to speak of, but he was happy as a pig in shit. I needed to learn to get sincerely excited about nothing too.
Matty and I discussed our current business in the game and reality, while I searched for information about the Vartalinskys. Only a month of our allotted time had passed, yet we had already attained certain intermediate results. Granted, the work was preparatory in nature, but it was impossible to achieve our stated goals without it.
After making sure Matty called Helen and arranged to meet, I finished gathering my mini-dossier on the Vartalinskys. Eredani displayed his visionary skills there too. Finding Braksed wasn’t particularly difficult, all the less so because that representative of the small town’s golden youth had not deleted all traces of himself: the character’s contact details were on his social network pages.
A couple of search engine clicks, and I had a bunch of photographs of a twenty-year-old Alpha-male in his daddy’s cool wheels. A couple of links, and I had an entire atlas of this loud and primitive being’s weak spots. It was time to hit Barliona.
“What are you lounging around for, not working?” I found my partner snoozing on the groundskeeper’s throne, feet up on the table.
“Do you have an appointment?” He opened his eyes. “I can only see you if you have an appointment. What can I do for you?” The tiefling was in a playful mood I’d never seen before. A brisk analysis of potential reasons led me to the only real possible conclusion: he had found something.
“Reveal all.” I kicked a nightstand toward the table and sat down.
“Did the ghosts not strike you as a mite unusual?” Eredani began from a distance.
“What struck me as unusual was their presence in the nursery.”
“No, not that. Two mounds of corpses, three commanders. Let’s suppose one was in charge of scouts and went with them to the mountains. Then the other two each had their own battalion or company. Make sense?” I nodded. “But why were the remains divided up so exactly? Why
not heaped all together, which would be natural if they’d been slaughtered?”
I recalled the episode with the ghosts. Directly after the ascension of the first leader, he was followed by everyone on the left. As though they were trying to be as close as possible to their bodies. Or not get mixed up with those on the right.
“Maybe that’s just how they die?” I scratched my ear pensively.
A Second Chance Page 34
