by John L. Monk
Chapter Three
“It’s just a scratch,” Melody said for the third time. She held up her finger. “See? It’s already stopped.”
She shouldn’t have been able to cut herself like that. Rita and I had worked it out long ago: nothing we did in a sanctuary could hurt us. And this inn—despite being player-owned—was still under the town’s sanctuary flag.
I was about to tell her this—minus the part about Rita—but the serving woman had returned.
“No worries, miss,” she said. “Accidents happen. I’ll have to subtract it from your bill, though. Bet you’re glad you chose the cheap seats, hmm?”
Before she could stoop to clean it up, I quickly snatched a shard from Melody’s pile.
The server smiled. “Collector’s item?”
I smiled patiently. The woman was a lucid with a few assigned tasks: serve food, banter with patrons, and clean up messes.
When she finished, she said, “Would you like another glass, miss?”
“Um, yes please,” Melody said.
“Back in a jiff.”
When the woman left, Melody said, “Why did you do that?”
“I’ll tell you when she gets back.”
Melody sat back and waited with a look of mild exasperation.
“Got your wine, miss,” the server said a minute later, placing a fresh glass down. “Just so you know, this one doesn’t bounce either.”
Melody smiled politely. “Thank you. I’ll be more careful.”
“Enjoy.”
Melody lifted the fresh drink, took a sip, and smiled in surprise.
“Not bad,” she said.
Steeling myself against the pain I wouldn’t feel, I scratched the piece of glass along my arm from wrist to elbow.
Melody gasped. “What are you doing?” When the piece didn’t cut me, she gasped again. “How did you do that?”
“Open your character sheet. It’s in your head if you reach for it. Find the tab with all your environment flags and look near the top for one called Sanctuary.”
“Character sheet?” she said. “What are you talking about?”
“You have to look inward. Think about your character sheet. Do it while looking inward and it’ll happen.”
Melody stared at me with a look of open bafflement. “What the hell are you talking about, Ethan? I don’t have a character sheet!”
A hint of worry…
“It’s like reaching for something with a third hand,” I said. “Can you just look inward?”
“I am looking inward!”
“Try closing your eyes.”
Melody closed her eyes, mouth set in a grim line. I’d seen that expression countless times over the years and it was one I’d come to dread. A funny quirk about my wife: she loved to be in on the fun—to a fault. A corollary to that rule was she absolutely hated being left out. I’d always chalked it up to her having a lot of brothers and sisters and having to fight for every scrap of attention. Now she knew I had a character sheet and she didn’t.
“Nothing?” I said.
“No, dammit, no.”
“Try not to get mad.”
Because when something hasn’t worked a thousand times before…
The next ten minutes passed in stony silence. Clearly Cipher and Jaddow hadn’t properly explained the situation to her. It was one thing to learn you were an off-the-books lucid. Quite another to be told you were missing something so basic to this world, yet essential, as a character sheet.
“Hey,” I said, “I have an idea.”
“Look inward again?”
“Stop that.”
“What’s your idea?”
“Let’s arm wrestle.”
Melody gaped at me. “Are you nuts? Just leave me alone.”
“No, seriously,” I said. “My unmodified strength is one twenty-one. If you beat me, we’ll at least know you’re stronger. See? We’ll figure your stats out differently.”
Her shoulders slumped in resignation. “Fine.”
She put her elbow on the table in the classic position, and I took her hand in mine.
“Ready?” I said.
“This feels dumb.”
Her hand was warm and real, and I tamped down a sudden urge to start crying at the miracle of her presence.
Pull it together.
“Okay,” I said in a voice choked with emotion. “I won’t move. Now, push.”
I never felt her push. Her hand passed through mine like a ghost and rapped loudly on the table.
“Dammit,” I said.
“What the hell, Ethan?” she said, shaking the sting from her fingers.
“You were trying to force me. The game must think that’s aggressive. We can’t do this in town. We have to…” The words died on my lips, and a sense of dread stole over me. “But we can’t leave town.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous out there.”
“Because there’s no sanctuary? Fat lot of good it’s doing me here.”
She had a point.
“How about this,” I said. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. I’ll discern you. It’s a spell. I’m diviner, as well as a sorcerer. Sorry.”
Character classes. Another thing she couldn’t participate in.
“You might feel a tickle,” I said, focusing on her. “Here goes. Discern.”
NAME: Melody Tanner Crane
CLASS: Minion to Ethan Crane / Warrior / Shapeshifter (Eagle)
LEVEL: 400
BASE DAMAGE: 4,500
HEALTH POINTS: 15,000
LANGUAGES: Hero
There was a greater version of Discern that I was eligible for, but which was currently grayed out. Where in the game I’d find it was a mystery.
“You’re level four hundred,” I said.
“That’s good, right?”
I nodded. “Higher than average for Ward 2. And you have fifteen thousand health points. That’s way more than me. You hit pretty hard, too. Forty-five hundred base damage.”
“Okay. And?”
“You’re multi-class,” I said.
Her face brightened. “Sorcerer, like you?”
“Warrior, not a sorcerer. But you’re also a shapeshifter.”
For the first time in days, a genuine smile creased her face. “What shape? Dragon?”
I hated how she’d jumped straight to dragon.
“Eagle,” I said. “Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding? I can fly! Should I try it?”
By her happy expression, she looked ready to bolt outside any second and start flapping around.
“Maybe later?” I said.
“Oh, right.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “I usually played sci-fi games, back in the real world. Remember?”
I nodded.
“When I did play fantasy,” she said, “I usually played a mage. But I have played hitters before. Just a different mindset. Up close versus hiding in the back.”
My mouth felt dry. I took a sip, but it didn’t help.
“Anything else?” she said.
I could have kept it to myself, but the only time I’d lied to my wife was when she asked if an outfit made her look fat. She’d been slender her whole life, so I always told her yes, then ran ducking for cover. A harmless joke, not really a lie. This was different.
“Ethan, you’re scaring me. What is it?”
“It says you’re a minion,” I said. “My minion, specifically.”
Melody’s brow creased in puzzlement. “What’s that mean? Like a servant?”
She started to laugh, then stopped when I didn’t join her.
“Back in that valley, in those ruins,” I said, “I told you I wanted to start a new life here with you. Together forever. Then you said, Yes, I’d like that too.”
She shook her head. “What’s that have to do with—”
“Was it true?”
“I love you,” she said.
The truth orb over her head was golde
n.
“Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
Melody nodded. “Ethan, I … Yes. Of course I do.”
Just like back in the valley, the orb turned black in the presence of her lie.
“Melody Crane,” I commanded, “tell me why you’re lying to me.”
She stiffened as if jolted by electricity. Then, in a strangled voice, she said, “I love you … but … I’m not … in love … with you. The thought of spending … eternity, forever … I want to be free.”
Hardly believing my ears, I stared over her head at the orb as it turned from black to gold and pure, as if mocking me.
Chapter Four
After her forced confession, Melody stood from the table hurt, humiliated, and outraged. Without saying a word, she fled for the doors.
If I commanded her to come back and sit down, she would have. She’d have to. But in doing so, I’d kill anything good we still had between us.
I felt like such a fool. Coming here, risking everything … All for a wife who’d lied to me for who knew how long. Decades of marriage and countless toss-aways like “love you” and “love you too, honey,” only to find she didn’t love me at all.
She didn’t say that.
Fine, but she wasn’t in love with me. Which was easily among the top ten reasons for staying married. What had I done to deserve that? When? I’d never hit her or yelled at her. Never cheated on her.
I still loved her. And I still felt in love with her. Now all I wanted was to fade away and die. Maybe even kill myself—which was actually easier done in Mythian than in the real world. Just will myself to give up, and it’d happen.
You could make her be “in love” with you again.
The thought of that sickened me. Something Lord Beast would do. And she would have loved the sick bastard in precisely the manner he demanded. Then, according to Cipher—via Jaddow—such a change in her personality would have transformed her into another person entirely.
I should have confessed early to detecting her lie—told her about the Curse of Knowledge upfront. That, at least, would have given her the opportunity to explain her feelings without lying. Softened the blow.
You would have believed it.
Yes, I would have. Willingly, and in blissful ignorance.
Melody had been gone no more than a minute before I rose from my chair to follow her. Or started to. Our formerly friendly serving wench was blocking my path, arms crossed.
“Trying to skip out without paying?”
“Huh? No, of course not. Sorry. What do I owe you?”
“Three gold,” she said flatly.
I reached in my bottomless bag, pulled out three gold coins, and handed them to her.
“Wow, no tip,” she said as I passed her. “Now I can buy that gruel I always wanted.”
I burst outside looking everywhere, but Melody was nowhere in sight. It was late afternoon, chilly, and bound to get colder. Where would she go?
For the next two hours, I scoured every street, road, alley, and shadowy alcove in Heroes’ Reach. Frequently, I called for her—Melody! Where are you?—but she never answered. Then, remembering she was a shapeshifter, I began searching the sky, but what birds I saw were too small to be eagles.
Well after dark, I returned to the inn to find Melody sitting at the bar with Innkeeper Harry. Surrounding her was a large group of people.
I shook my head.
One of the women asked her a question: “How big was the tree?”
“Oh, easily a hundred feet tall,” Melody said.
A man said, “But if only women are immune, how did your husband survive?”
“You’d have to ask him,” she said, turning to stare at me from across the room.
I was surprised she knew I was here. Then I noticed my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. As one, the people surrounding her called me over.
I did go over, but not for them.
“I’m sorry,” I said to her. “I shouldn’t have done that. Not ever.”
The words didn’t seem good enough. I implored her with my eyes to believe me. Being heartbroken didn’t give me license to interrogate her like that.
Someone asked if the dryad was as beautiful as everyone said. Another asked if I’d escaped because I was gay.
Melody’s laugh was biting. She had a drink in her hand. I looked from the drink to Harry, who shrugged.
“Drinks are free to storytellers,” he said.
Another person asked if the dryad only liked people with really high comeliness scores.
Angrily, I said, “Any man who goes into that valley is as good as dead, no matter what level you are. Women are safe. They won’t even see her.” I turned to Melody. “Can we please go to our room now?”
“Oh, you’re asking me?” she said.
“I am. I said I’m sorry. You have no idea how much. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.”
It might have been a trick of the rune lighting, but it seemed to me her expression softened.
“Why don’t you buzz off, loser?” someone said from the back. “We wanna hear the rest!”
Other people chimed their agreement, some with more colorful language. One man formally challenged me to a duel, but I ignored the request.
Melody raised the wine glass to her lips, drained the rest, and said, “There’s not much more. Like he said, it’s basically a death trap. But maybe some men like that sort of trap.” Her voice hardened. “Me, I enjoy my freedom.”
She headed for the stairs without looking back.
Chapter Five
There were a lot of rooms to choose from, each with doors of varying degrees of craftsmanship and decoration. Melody stared stonily ahead at a simple yellow door with no ornamentation whatsoever.
“I don’t have any money,” she said without looking at me.
“Let me try,” I said, and opened the door.
I walked in and a game message appeared:
ACCOMMODATIONS: 10 Hours
PAY 5 GOLD? (YES/NO)
Mentally, I chose YES and another message notified me that 5 gold had been deducted from my bottomless bag.
We found ourselves in a sparsely furnished room with only one bed. No bathrooms either, which presented a problem, but I’d deal with that later.
“I can get a different room,” I said.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“There’s only one bed.”
“And we’re still married. Nothing’s changed that.”
I hated that my gaze flitted to her truth orb. Golden. But all she’d said was that we were still married. In general, the Curse of Knowledge cared more about specific words than it did intent.
“Do you even want to stay married?” I said.
“It’s not a yes or no question,” she said tiredly, “and I don’t want to get into it right now. You were a real jerk downstairs. You have no idea how it felt to…” She shook her head. “It felt like every part of me had strings attached, and you were pulling them, forcing me to answer you. I wanted to answer you, even though the real me didn’t. Almost like there were two of me. You could have told me to lick the ground and the part in control would have done it with a smile. It was evil, what you did.” A second later, her eyes softened. “But I know you’re not evil. And that’s why you’ll never do it again.”
“Never again. I swear. I said I was sorry.”
Evil.
Until now, nothing I’d done in life could have been credibly described that way.
“I promise,” I said.
Melody dabbed the corners of her eyes, sniffed, and nodded.
Without thinking, I reached for her. She let me hug her. Stiffly at first, then more relaxed. We stood like that for perhaps a minute. Then, for various uncomplicated reasons, my eyes drifted to the room’s only bed.
As if sensing this, Melody said, “I can’t believe we’re young again. I feel young.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I was always attr
acted to you.”
“Yeah,” I said again.
“I still am.”
Quick glance. Golden orb.
Back in the Vale of Solace, shortly before kissing Melody awake, I’d shunted 10 last-second points into comeliness in the hopes of making a good impression. A thoroughly useless attribute for an adventurer, comeliness regulated how physically beautiful or handsome we were. During my time in Mythian, I’d learned 21 was considered passably good looking.
Stupidly, I opened my mouth to ruin the moment. “Should I—”
Melody’s lips parted and we kissed. Saving the moment.
“Let’s just be young again,” she breathed.
And led me to bed.
Melody’s quiet snores teased me away from my own slumber.
I suppose on some level I’d known her feelings for me had changed, though it hurt to admit it. Unlike other couples, our relationship hadn’t fused our identities so much as accentuated them. I’d had my teaching career and research, and she had her gaming career and science fiction books. Back then, her pastimes always left me wondering, What’s the point? To my mind, novels and games were for young people who thought they’d live forever. But of course, knowing she was destined for a retirement world, she’d had all the time in the world to do what she wanted. Or so she’d thought.
What about love?
To Melody, I must have seemed doomed to die, so any time spent on love was inconsequential at least and wasted at worst. Which begged the question: why not be honest about her feelings? Why stay with me all those years?
Back in our forties, when I’d been politically active, she’d accompanied me to the meetings and demonstrations. She’d seemed as against the retirement worlds as I was. Now I was forced to conclude she’d been faking it. Or maybe she’d changed her mind later. Whereas I never had.
Beside me, Melody shifted in her sleep. So comfortable. Making love again after so many years had seemed right and good. Almost as if we’d never been apart. Her golden orb and the warm place in my heart for her were confirmation that our love was still alive. Nothing had changed there. Was our civilized notion of spending eternity together still a useful yardstick for love? What about loyalty? Devotion to someone above all others?
