“Where did you get that?” Lilith asked suspiciously. “You don’t just find Philosopher’s Stones lying around on the ground.”
“I did gift it to him,” Daraxandriel informed her stiffly, “that he might defeat Parathraxas.”
“And where did you get it?”
“Parathraxas demanded a Stone as a condition for ceding his soul to me.” Daraxandriel started tracing circles on the countertop with her finger. “I reclaimed it when he sought to break our contract.”
“That doesn’t explain where you got it.”
“Don’t badger her,” I snapped irritably. “She made it, okay?”
“Her?” Lilith scoffed. “She couldn’t make gravel out of a rock.”
“Look, I know you don’t like her but give her some credit. If she says she made it, she made it.”
Daraxandriel’s tail tucked its head under her arm as she hunched her shoulders. “Nay, Peter Simon Collins,” she said in a small voice, “I did not make the Stone. I lack such skill and power. I acquired it.”
“From where?” I asked carefully. Something was clearly fishy here.
“From ... another,” she hedged.
“Who?” Lilith asked sharply. Daraxandriel did that look-everywhere-except-at-the-person-she’s-talking-to thing that she did when she knew someone wasn’t going to like her answer. “Who?” Lilith persisted. Daraxandriel mumbled something I couldn’t make out but Lilith’s eyes flew open wide. “You can’t be serious!” she gasped, appalled.
“What?” I asked anxiously. “What did she say?”
“Take these off!” Lilith begged Mrs. Kendricks, holding her wrists out to her. “We have to get as far away from her as possible!”
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Kendricks frowned. “What’s going on, Dara?”
“We don’t have time for this!” Lilith was practically beside herself with panic. “He could be on His way already!”
Mrs. Kendricks ignored her. “Dara,” she asked firmly, “whose Stone is this?”
Daraxandriel shook her head, huddled into a ball on her stool. Lilith buried her face in her hands, as if she hoped the whole problem would go away if she couldn’t see it.
“Our Dread Lord,” she told the floor woefully. “She stole it from our Dread Lord.”
9
Like all MMOs, Legends of Lorecraft has a thriving in-game economy. Players can buy and sell just about any object in the game through the trading houses, making it easy to acquire that one piece of armor you need to complete the set or pick up a hundred revive scrolls to keep your fairy alive, for the right price, of course. Just like real life, the rarer or more valuable something is, the more expensive it is. Without a good source of income or some incredible luck, most players have to make do with whatever they can scrounge up, which is also just like real life.
There’s also a meta-economy running the background, by which I mean the ability to buy things that benefit you, the game player, as opposed to you, the game character. These things take real money, sometimes exorbitant amounts of it, and yet a lot of people freely throw their hard-earned dollars at the company for stuff that, to me, really ought to be free. These may be things as trivial as character renames or extra slots or server moves all the way up to character makeovers to gender changes to complete respecs.
Some people claim the company charges so much for these perks because they want to discourage the users from continually altering their characters but I find that hard to believe. Why would the company care if you want to change your character’s name from Fred to George or want his hair color to be blue instead of black? The only person it affects is the player, who hopefully ends up with someone he or she likes better. So why should they have to pay all that money because they made a mistake during character creation or changed their mind later on? It’s obviously just a money-making ploy, albeit a very lucrative one.
Of course, we can respec in real life too but it costs a whole lot more. I can pay the county clerk to legally change my name. I can go to college or hire an expert to teach me new skills for a hefty price tag and a lot of effort. I can even pay a plastic surgeon a whole ton of money to alter my appearance, within limits. Wouldn’t it be cool if all that could happen with just a few clicks of a mouse or the wave of a magic wand? I wonder what people would do with that kind of power.
Daraxandriel’s explanation about how she got her hands on the Philosopher’s Stone was an epic fantasy adventure in its own right. Lilith fled halfway through, as if even hearing about it was enough to turn her into an accomplice. She hid in the front room with Stacy standing guard while the rest of us sat at the kitchen counter and tried to come up with a plan.
“Maybe we could just give it back?” I asked hopefully. Mrs. Kendricks, Daraxandriel, and I contemplated the Stone lying on the counter. Now that it wasn’t hanging around my neck, its reddish glow seemed dimmer, but that may have been a trick of the light.
“It’s bound to your blood, Peter,” Mrs. Kendricks reminded me. “No one else can use it now.”
“Maybe He won’t notice the difference.”
“That glow is a bit of a giveaway.”
“Can we destroy it?” That seemed a bit drastic but we didn’t seem to have a lot of options.
“I don’t know of anyone powerful enough to do that,” Mrs. Kendricks said, shaking her head. “A Philosopher’s Stone is virtually indestructible.”
“Let’s just toss it into the middle of the ocean, then. He’ll never find it there and even if He did, we wouldn’t be anywhere near it.”
“It matters not, Peter Simon Collins,” Daraxandriel told me glumly. “An He discovers it absent from his trove, He will seek vengeance on all involved. In my heedless rush to claim Parathraxas’s soul, I have doomed us all.”
“Don’t talk like that, Dara. We’ll figure something out. Can we get another one to replace it?” I asked Mrs. Kendricks.
“They’re extremely difficult to make, Peter, and literally priceless. I only know of two others in the world and they’re all different. You could never mistake one for the other. No,” she said heavily, “I’m afraid we’re just going to have to pray that He doesn’t check His inventory very often.” She picked the Stone up by its chain and held it out to me. “Until then, we can still try to use this to help Dara.”
“How?” I looped the Stone over my head and let it rest against my chest outside my shirt.
“Beyond its normal function as a Source, the Stone is a very powerful magical artifact in and of itself. I believe we can use it to hijack the hunter’s bond with Olivia’s soul. If not, we should at least be able to weaken it enough to where he can’t use it to track Dara.”
“But she’ll still be a demon, won’t she?”
“One step at a time, Peter,” she sighed. “We’ll begin as soon as Melissa and Susie get here.” The kitchen timer dinged. “Breakfast is ready, assuming anyone still has an appetite,” she announced dryly as she slipped off her stool. “I’ll get some plates.”
“I am sorry, Peter Simon Collins,” Daraxandriel told me disconsolately.
“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Well, I guess it is, actually,” I mused, “but nobody blames you. Well, Lilith does,” I corrected myself, “and Stacy’s not too happy about things either.”
Daraxandriel slumped forward until her horns clunked on the counter. “Thine efforts to cheer me have fallen short of the mark, Peter Simon Collins,” she groaned. “I am filled with remorse and despair.”
“Come on, it’s not that bad. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“A bleak and ravaging darkness upon the land that drives all men to madness and leaves them welcoming their slaughter with glad and open arms.”
“Okay, that’s pretty bad,” I admitted, “but it’s not likely. I mean, you stole the Stone over four hundred years ago and He still hasn’t noticed, right?” She lifted her head and looked at me doubtfully. “With any luck, we’ll all be dead of old age long before any ravagin
g happens.”
“Demons do not age, Peter Simon Collins.” Her head dropped back to the counter with a loud clonk.
“Okay, how about this? He already knows you helped rescue Metra – Metrakh – that other demon from Dr. Bellowes, right? You could just say that you needed the Stone to do it. That’s even almost true.” I nodded encouragingly as Daraxandriel rolled her head to the side to look at me.
“I took the Stone long before Metraxion’s imprisonment,” she argued.
“Yes, but He doesn’t know that. Just lie if He asks. You can do that, can’t you? Demons are supposed to be good at lying.”
She considered that and then sat up. “Mayhap,” she allowed reluctantly.
“That’s the spirit. Come on, cheer up. We’ll figure this out and get you back the way you were.” Mrs. Kendricks’ back was turned so I leaned in for a kiss but she turned her head away. “What’s wrong?”
“The way I was afore was human, Peter Simon Collins,” she said glumly. “Thou dost find my current form repugnant.”
“No, I don’t!” I protested. “You’re beautiful either way!”
“Thou never didst kiss me as a demon,” she pouted. “Thou didst avert thine eyes from me.”
“Well, you were trying to get my soul back then,” I reminded her. “I was avoiding temptation.”
“Truly?” she asked hesitantly. “My horns and my tail do not disgust thee?”
“Well, your horns are fine,” I told her, “and your eyes are incredible. I have issues with your tail,” I confessed, “but that’s because it doesn’t like me. The rest of you is perfect.”
“Thou dost declaim such words merely to soothe me,” she murmured, snagging her lower lip with her unbroken fang as she lightly ran her fingers down my arm. “Thou dost not truly mean them in thy heart.”
“Actions speak louder than words, right? I’ll show you.” I pulled her close and she tilted her head up for me, closing her eyes. Our lips failed to connect, though, as my forehead collided with something hard and rough. “Ow.” I rubbed the spot, eyeing her horns doubtfully. “That’s going to take some getting used to. How do demons kiss without getting their horns tangled together?”
“Thy frail body would suffer greatly were thee to attempt intercourse in the manner of demons,” she told me tartly, “but I shall be gentle with thee.” She turned her head to the side and pressed her warm lips against mine. Something wrapped itself around my thigh to hold me in place and I was pretty sure it wasn’t her hand. The scent of snuffed-out candles tickled my nose as I held her tightly against me, feeling her body heat radiate through my shirt. It was like hugging a furnace, albeit one that was firmly rounded in all the right places.
Somebody made a loud gagging sound and we turned our heads to see Lilith standing a short distance away with an expression of distaste on her face. “How can you bear to touch something so ugly and deformed?” she grimaced. “It turns my stomach!”
“Peter Simon Collins is not ugly!” Daraxandriel retorted.
“I’m talking to him!” she sneered. “How can you ignore that garish hair of hers, Peter? That must be why you close your eyes when you kiss her.”
I felt Daraxandriel stiffen in outrage and I squeezed her hand in the hopes of stifling her response. The last thing we needed now was a knock-down-drag-out catfight in the middle of Mrs. Kendricks’ kitchen.
“Ignore her, Dara,” I told her. “She’s just trying to get your goat.” I winced as my eyes lifted up to her horns but fortunately she didn’t make the connection.
The doorbell rang then and Lilith literally jumped, clutching her heart. “It’s our Dread Lord!” she whispered, looking around fearfully for an escape route.
“I sincerely doubt He’d ring the bell first,” I told her. “It’s probably Melissa and Susie.”
Stacy got the door and Melissa stepped in, looking around anxiously. Her eyes fell on Lilith and I heard her shocked gasp all the way in the kitchen.
“Oh my God, Dara!” she exclaimed. “What happened to your hair?” She dropped her backpack on the floor and ran over to sweep Lilith up in a hug. “I’m so sorry!”
Lilith tried to pry herself loose. “Who is this person,” she demanded coldly, “and why is she touching me?”
“Oh my God!” Melissa breathed, holding Lilith at arm’s length as she looked her over in concern. “You lost your memory too?”
“That’s not Dara, Melissa,” I informed her, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. “That’s her sister Lilith.”
“Dara has a sister? Oh my God!”
“If she says Oh my God one more time, can I turn her into a newt?” Susie stood with Stacy in the foyer hugging her leather book bag in both arms. She looked irked, although it wasn’t clear whether that was because Melissa dragged her all the way out here or because she made her put on a dress. My guess was a combination of the two.
“No transmogrifications, Susie,” Mrs. Kendricks told her mildly. She set the casserole on top of a folded towel on the table. Whatever she put in the dish smelled really good. “Thank you for coming, both of you.” Susie shrugged indifferently and Melissa flashed her a nervous smile.
“So what do we have to do?” she asked. “And where’s Dara?” She spotted her standing beside me and she gasped in dismay. “Oh my –” She caught herself in time and cleared her throat. “You’re English again?”
“English?” Lilith asked incredulously.
“Er, that’s what we thought she was,” she explained, “when she looked like that back in school.”
“English? Really?” Lilith rolled her eyes. “That’s the best you could come up with, Dara?”
Daraxandriel took a breath to retort but I clapped my hand over her mouth to stifle their argument before it started. “Lilith swapped Dara’s curse for the soul she took from a dying girl,” I told Melissa. “So now Lilith’s human, Dara’s a demon again, and a demon hunter is after her. We need to find a way to release the soul from Dara before he finds her.”
Daraxandriel pulled my hand away. “And afore our Dread Lord wreaks vengeance upon us for taking his Philosopher’s Stone.”
“Oh,” Melissa said weakly, looking a little wild-eyed.
“Cool,” said Susie. “Where do we start?”
“Let’s eat first,” Mrs. Kendricks said firmly. “We’re going to need all our strength for this.”
Breakfast was a largely silent affair, broken only by the clink of silverware on porcelain and a few refills of drinks. The casserole was delicious and filling but I barely remembered eating any of it when we finally cleared everything away and reconvened in the back yard. My stomach felt like it was tied into a dozen knots and Daraxandriel didn’t look much better.
“Dara, I’ll need you in the center of the pentagram again,” Mrs. Kendricks instructed briskly. Daraxandriel stood on the flagstone, looking nervous as the four witches put their heads together and whispered among themselves.
Lilith gave up trying to walk in the grass in her heels and kicked them off, slumping into one of the patio chairs while I kept an eye out for the demon hunter, even though I didn’t know what he looked like or what direction he’d be coming from. The foursome broke apart and spaced themselves around Daraxandriel, peering intently at her. Three of them turned to face the house but Melissa shook her head doubtfully.
“I can’t see anything,” she apologized.
“I don’t think I’ve taught you that spell,” Mrs. Kendricks said. “Do you remember the sigil for True Sight?” Melissa hesitated and then nodded. “Use your wand to trace it on your forehead.”
“Okay.” Melissa dug into her backpack and extracted her wand, the same one she used last night. She stood up, straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them again, and then murmured something under her breath as she drew a complicated symbol on her forehead.
“Did it work?” I asked hesitantly. She didn’t look any different.
Melissa blinked a few times
and then peered at Daraxandriel. She sucked in her breath as she turned to look towards the house as well. “I see it!”
“Very good,” Mrs. Kendricks nodded in approval. “He moved since last night,” she said to Stacy. Her daughter nodded in agreement.
“Is he getting close?” I asked uneasily.
“I can’t tell. I don’t think he’s moving but with the trace spread out so much it’s hard to be sure.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully for a moment and then waved me forward. “Come over here, Peter. Let’s see if the Stone interacts with the trace.” I stood on the spot she indicated on the grass. “Now lift the Stone by its chain and keep it steady. Higher. Higher. Just a bit more. There! Don’t move.” She looked back and forth between Daraxandriel, me, and the house as my arm started to ache from the awkward position. “How does that look to you?” she asked Stacy.
Stacy leaned in close and Susie stood close beside her. “I’m not sure,” Stacy said. “The sun’s too bright.”
“Move it that way two inches,” Susie told me, pointing to her right. I shot a glance at Mrs. Kendricks and she nodded. I shifted the Stone over and then back a little at Susie’s gesture. “There. I see the pulse.”
The other two stared intently at the stone and nodded and Melissa peeked in between them. “Oh!” she gasped. “That’s amazing!”
“What is?” All I could see with the faint ruby glow of the Stone, which looked perfectly normal to me.
“The Stone is absorbing the trace where it touches it,” Mrs. Kendricks explained.
“And that’s good?”
“Very good. It means this should work after all. You can let go now.” I dropped the Stone and shook out my arm. “All right, we’re going to have to go very quickly and we’re probably only going to have one chance at it. Anastasia and I will release the scattering spell. As soon as it’s down, Susie, you’ll have to cast the binding spell. I’ll come help but you’ll need to get it started.”
Soul Mates Page 10
