by Terry Schott
Xander pursed his lips and glared down at the tiny creature. When he did not reply, Xyclotl shrugged. “Never mind, then. I was only trying to be considerate.”
“More like find a way to take me down.”
Xyclotl opened his mouth to say something, but then frowned and looked down at the hand he was kneeling on. “What the—”
Xander looked down as well and saw that his hand was entirely black. For a second he was confused, then a quick glance at his forearms confirmed his suspicion. The tendrils of midnight had pooled in his hand. “Strange.”
The glob of blackness surged upward in a cylinder totally surrounding Xyclotl. His wings snapped out to take flight, but it was too late; the tide of midnight crashed down and engulfed the shard imp like an angry ocean wave against a rocky shore.
Seconds passed. Xander stared at his palm, feeling the shard imp’s body struggling madly against his skin but unable to see it beneath the inky blackness.
A minute or so later, the pool dispersed and formed branches of onyx that returned to moving lazily up and down the length of Xander’s arm.
The shard imp flopped onto his back and coughed wetly. His eyes opened. “What in all the hells that are holy and cursed was that about?”
“I have no idea.”
“It was trying to drown me.”
“I don’t think so,” Xander said.
The shard imp brought one hand up to wipe his face and froze. “What the—”
The small hand was encased in a black metal gauntlet.
Xyclotl sat up, the ornate ebony now encasing his body making a musical chiming sound as the pieces clanked at their joints. “I’m wearing armour.”
“And there’s a battle axe strapped to your back,” Xander said.
“Huh?” Xyclotl reached over his shoulder, grasping the haft of the weapon and yanking a tiny double-bladed axe free. He held it out in front of himself, quickly reaching out with his other hand to help keep the weapon from falling and cutting into Xander’s palm. “This is insane.”
“You look like a cute little Death Stryker.”
“I’m wearing armour.”
Xander nodded. “You already said that.”
“A full set of it.”
“Your wings are still free to move.”
Xyclotl looked over his right shoulder, moving one wing so that the tip almost touched his cheek.
“Is it heavy?”
“What?” the shard imp snapped, its face contorting with anger.
“The armour. Is it weighing you down?”
“It doesn’t feel heavy at all. Matter of fact, I think I might feel lighter now than I did when I was almost naked”
“That’s strange.”
Xyclotl laughed. “This is worse than strange, kid! Look at me. I’m dressed like a…like some kind of…”
“Warrior.”
Xyclotl closed his eyes. “Yes.” His head shook from side to side. “Like a warrior.” He fell forward, sinking to his knees and covering his face with one gauntleted hand. “What did you do to me? This is the worst thing to ever happen to one of my kind.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Xyclotl looked up, eyes flashing. “You thought about me being a fighter.”
“No.” Xander paused. “I mean, I asked if something like that was possible, but Mercy assured me that it wasn’t—”
“Imbecile!” Xander groaned. “You absolute moron. I’m finished!”
“Relax. You’re not dying or anything, are you?”
He sprang into the air, rising until he was only a few inches from Xander’s nose. “Worse!” he screamed. “I’m gonna be the laughingstock of the group next time we all get together for drinks. What self-respecting imp is gonna want to sleep with me after they find out I’m dressed like this?”
Chapter 39
Xyclotl stood on the table, arms at his sides, giant battle-axe held in his gauntleted right hand.
Mercy considered the tiny creature with a serious expression on her face. Then her eyebrows rose, and she shrugged. “It’s cute.”
“Cute?” The shard imp’s free hand came up to raise the visor of his helmet, eyes bright with emotion. “I look cute?”
“You do.”
“Ridiculous!” The shard imp pulled the helmet from his head and launched it at her. The piece of armour was a foot away from him when there was a tiny puff of black smoke. A second later, the helmet materialized in Xyclotl’s grip once more. “Gah!” he shouted, and tried to throw the helmet onto the table. Again it flashed and returned to his hand. “I look like a stupid Death Stryker doll.”
“Careful,” Mercy warned.
Xyclotl laughed. “About what? I’m the one who is suffering here.” He raised the axe and pointed it at Xander. “All ’cause of him, I am a joke. To everyone!”
Mercy raised one eyebrow and the corner of her mouth turned upwards. “I don’t think he likes the improvements.”
Xyclotl jammed the helmet back onto his head, snapped the visor closed, and screamed. The sound was muffled but shrill.
“I tried to get rid of it,” Xander said. “But for some reason the midnight won’t return to the grasp.”
“Was it the right arm that it came from?” Mercy asked, and Xander nodded. “Interesting. It’s brighter than the other. Or more dark. I’m not sure which is a better way to describe it, but it is definitely different.”
Xander held his arms up and looked from one arm to the other. “You’re right, it is. I wonder why?”
“Maybe it’s draining it.”
“What?” Xyclotl’s muffled voice asked.
“Taking its power and giving it to you,” Mercy shrugged. “Or keeping the essence for itself.”
The shard imp flew into the air until he was at eye level with Xander. He pushed back the faceplate and glared, mouth curled into an angry sneer. “It better not be draining me, Bub. If it is, I’ll—”
“Die,” Mercy said, smirking as the creature turned to face her.
“That’s not funny.”
“Maybe not, but it could be true.”
Xyclotl raised one fist into the air and wailed.
“Calm down,” Xander said.
“You calm down!” he screamed. “I’m slowly dying, and you two think it’s funny.”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah? Well, she does.”
“Does that surprise you?”
The shard imp paused. “No, I suppose not.”
Xander laughed. “Do you feel weak?”
“Weak?”
“Less strong than before you were…changed.”
Xyclotl considered the question and shook his head. “No. As a matter of fact I feel stronger. Lighter.”
“There ya go, then.” Xander nodded. “I think that you’ve formed some sort of bond.”
“That could be true.”
“You’ve linked with the grasp and it is lending you power.”
Xyclotl stared at him.
“Still want me to find a way to get rid of it, even if it makes you stronger?”
The shard imp pursed his lips and nodded. “Hell yes, I want to get rid of it.”
Chapter 40
Jyachin tapped Isaac on the shoulder and made a circular motion with his hand.
Isaac nodded and spoke to the others as Jyachin’s drumming stopped. “Get ready to slow down, boys.”
Their speed began to lessen until it became a normal jog. The four men came to a stop and Aleron dropped to the ground.
“Not yet.” Fen grabbed the Scout under one arm, lifting and then providing support as they continued to walk slowly. “If you stop walking right away, your muscles will tighten and seize up.”
“That’s fine with me,” Aleron’s speech was slurred. “We’ve been running forever.”
Isaac nodded sympathetically. The bard song removed the biological strain of running endlessly, but the rest of the body was tired from being awake and alert for so long. “You did great, guys.
Stay on your feet until we reach town, and then we can sit and rest.”
“And sleep,” Aleron moaned.
“That too.” Isaac smiled and looked toward the lights over the ridge. They crested the rise and saw the edge of town not far away. “Ten minutes and we’re there.”
Aleron groaned and Fen huffed.
“You’re doing great, men.” Jyachin trotted past them, turning to jog backwards as he led the way.
“Show-off,” Aleron muttered.
Jyachin winked. “If it makes you feel any better, this is the farthest distance in the shortest amount of time that I have ever travelled. You boys have the stamina of a bard, which is high praise.”
“I think I passed out two minutes ago,” Fen said.
“Doesn’t matter what you think,” Jyachin laughed. “Your body is still moving, and that’s what counts.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. A guardhouse stood at the edge of town, where the dirt path became a tighter packed road. Two men stood outside the building, pole arms resting on their shoulders.
“Evening, gentlemen,” the shorter of the two said. “Are you coming home or visiting us for the first time?”
“First time,” Isaac said.
The man’s eyes surveyed each of them in turn. “You’re aware of our special population?”
“We are. Three of us are players.” Isaac indicated himself, Fen, and Aleron. “And this is my avatar’s apprentice, Jyachin.”
The shorter man noticed Isaac’s drum and lute bag. “You’re a bard?”
Isaac nodded.
“That’s a nice surprise. You’re the only one to have made it this far.”
“It’s a tough class to play.”
The guard laughed. “That it is. I wiped twice before I threw in the towel and switched to warrior.”
“You ended up with the best class in the long run, friend,” Fen smiled.
The guard laughed. “Head on into town, fellas. There are inns with available rooms still, and a few good taverns to sample. Shops and stores open tomorrow morning at nine, if you need to buy or trade.”
“Thanks.” Isaac nodded.
“It’s a neutral zone in there,” the taller guard said. “Few enough of us players left. No reason to be killing each other.”
“We agree one hundred percent,” Fen said.
“Then welcome to Darwin’s Vale.”
***
Sebastian opened the door. Beyond the shade of the front porch, the sun shone bright. He smiled and stepped forward, allowing warmth and light to touch his face.
“Morning.”
Sebastian opened his eyes and nodded at the two men standing across the street in the shade. “Morning. Looks like a beautiful day.”
“That it does.” One of the men had a leg propped up on a crate, with a lute resting on his knee. He plucked a note and adjusted the tuning peg. The other, younger than the first, sat directly on the porch, his back against the wall so that he faced outwards.
Sebastian felt his eyebrows furrow. “Do we know each other?”
“Might be.” The bard—he was definitely a bard—smiled.
“Yo, Seb. Hope you brought those two pieces of armour and sword with you, like I asked.” The young warrior stood, a familiar grin appearing on his face.
Sebastian took a step forward, and the bard held a hand up. “No knives this time, Seb. It took too much work to find you. I’d like a few minutes of your time before you try and kill me again.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Don’t worry, boys. No knives this time, I promise.” He crossed the street and pulled the warrior into an embrace. “It’s good to see you, Fen, you old dog.” He clapped his friend on the back and released him. Then he turned to consider the bard. “Went for an experienced avatar this time?”
Isaac let the lute hang on its strap and pushed it to rest against his back. He extended his hand. “Thought I might be able to defend myself from you if the next body had a bit more fighting experience.”
Sebastian held both hands in the air for a second to show that he meant no harm, then he stepped forward and gripped his partner’s hand. “I finally realized a couple days ago that if you came in, it must be for a good reason.” He winked. “Plus, I think I got all my anger out, stabbing you the last time.”
Isaac laughed. “I’m not sure I believe that.”
“Fen said there were problems back home.”
“There are.”
“Let’s get some breakfast, then. I’ll let you buy and tell me all about it.”
Chapter 41
“What do you think of the place so far?”
Aleron nodded as he looked at the buildings to each side of them. “It’s great. With everyone all in the same place it feels substantial. When do you head out on your scouting mission?”
“I’m just getting back, now.”
“How is that even possible? Weren’t you exhausted from the crazy run we made all the way here last night?”
The bard laughed. “I slept for a few hours and then set out. It was better to make a run like that with darkness for cover.”
“I take it you found them?”
Jyachin nodded.
“Are they close?”
“Not at all. It will take them a few weeks to get here once they set out.”
“Once they set out?”
“Three-quarters of the army hasn’t reported in yet.”
Aleron frowned. “You sure? Maybe they split up and are coming in waves.”
“I saw no one along the way, and soldiers confirmed that they are far from ready to head out.”
“You actually spoke to some of them?”
Jyachin smiled. “People love to share information with bards. I played at a couple taverns and let some soldiers buy me a few drinks. Didn’t take long before they were answering every question I asked.”
“Not very tight with their intel.”
“Why would they be? It’s the native races against the players, and I’m not a player. They had nothing to hide.”
“And how’s it looking?”
Jyachin shook his head. “Not good for us. Where’s Isaac?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s find him.”
***
Sebastian took the last bite of food on his plate and leaned back in his chair. He chewed and considered the information Isaac had spent the last two hours sharing with him. Then he swallowed and spread both hands. “Yeah, man. Sounds like there are some serious issues with the computer system back home.”
Isaac frowned and then laughed. “You don’t sound very concerned about it.”
“There’s nothing I can do about any of the things that you mentioned.” Sebastian shrugged. “I’m in here now. Permanently.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I like it here better.”
“That’s not a good enough reason.”
“I didn’t make the decision lightly.”
“You can’t come back.”
Sebastian smiled. “There’s nothing for me in that other world.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t set up some sort of console or station here. An access point that you could put your hands on.”
“What for?”
“So you could access the programming in case anything went wrong.”
“Nothing can go wrong.”
“Haven’t you been listening to me for the last two plus hours?”
“I have. Sure, there are problems, but nothing catastrophic like I was afraid of just before you arrived.”
Isaac sat forward and stared at Sebastian for a long moment, a confused expression on his face. “If the computer outside crashes—fatally shuts down—this entire world disappears.”
Sebastian smiled and reached for his mug. He took a long drink and sighed. “No one lives forever, old pal. I’d take a week in this land over a decade or two in that other crappy reality.”
Isaac shook his head but said nothing.
Sebastian set
his mug down. “You did mention one problem that has to be solved. Player bodies dying if you pull them out of the game. That’s a very simple fix from inside.”
Isaac nodded. “Make sure the players die.”
“Which will send them back home, safe and sound.” Sebastian’s eyes flicked past Isaac, and he frowned. “Is that who I think it is?”
Isaac turned. Aleron and Jyachin had entered the restaurant. They saw him and began to make their way to the table.
“Hello, Seb.” Aleron remained standing while Jyachin sat.
“Good to see you again, Aleron,” Sebastian smiled.
“What did we miss?”
Sebastian shook his head. “Boring tech stuff.”
“Tech stuff is never boring.”
Sebastian nodded and stared at the young Scout.
“Something wrong?”
“Maybe.”
“What is it?”
“I’m trying to decide if you’re one of us or reporting back to the Scouts.”
“Isaac had the same reservations.”
“Had?” Sebastian turned to Isaac. “Or has?”
Isaac shrugged. “He said he was a player and loyal to us. Sounded right to me.”
Sebastian chewed lightly at his lower lip.
“You know him better than I do, Seb,” Isaac said. “If you think he’s against us, I trust your gut.”
The man considered Aleron. “Why didn’t you return sooner?”
“They wouldn’t let me. I’ve pretty much been their prisoner all this time.”
“Pretty much?”
“They trained me. Taught me how to be a Scout.” Aleron sighed. “I wasn’t stuck in a prison cell, but they made sure I couldn’t leave.”
“Until they sent you here now?”
Aleron laughed. “That’s not what happened. I was able to gain their trust enough for them to place me in a village in order to practice and grow my abilities.” He smiled. “When I heard about a town filled with players, I saw that as my chance to escape and rejoin Shale.” His brows furrowed. “Shale’s here, right?”
