Bard to the Bone

by Cid Banks

“Typical.” Naomi walked in the opposite direction.

  Amy watched her, contempt stirring in her green eyes. “Get off your high horse.”

  “Fighting amongst ourselves doesn’t help.” I searched the walls, finding nothing but moss. “Amy, can you move this out of the way?”

  She paused by an antique armoire. “You want me to wreck shit?”

  “Remove everything. Pound the walls. It’ll be easier to see a hidden doorway.”

  Amy set to work, reducing a cabinet to splinters. She kicked stacked chairs, which exploded upon impact. We scoured the room for hints, tapping surfaces before moving to a drier hallway. Naomi scanned the stones, her stormy gaze sweeping them as though searching for words scrawled on the wall. I inspected the ground, the blank ceiling, everything.

  I touched the damp stone, fingers scraping the rough texture. Amy sloshed beside me, heading for another place to smash. A wave crested, lapping the wall. It left a damp mark where it kissed the rock.

  “I can’t find anything.” Naomi groaned. “I’m a programmer. I should be able to think like one. Maybe the string of numbers is a sequence for stones we need to hit.”

  “It can’t be that complicated.” The answer was in front of us. “This Dale guy wouldn’t have put his name on the quest if he didn’t want people to discover it.”

  “You don’t know that.” Frustrated, Naomi’s light zoomed back and forth. “This might take a while to figure out.”

  Golden radiance beamed onto glistening stone. The shimmering wave stopped over a stretch of dry wall and was blanketed into darkness.

  “Wait, bring it back.”

  “Did you see something?” Naomi splashed closer, excitement written all over her features. “Where?”

  I pointed. “There.”

  The hovering lantern slid into view. Amy and Naomi watched.

  “I see… nothing.” Naomi studied the spot, transfixed. “What am I looking at?”

  A dry patch stretched from the bottom into a wide rectangle. I marked the base, where the water met stone. It was dry.

  Naomi gasped, touching it. “Dry.”

  Amy palmed it. “This has to be it.”

  I tried not to sound too excited. “It’s definitely out of place. Almost like they forgot to make this behave like a normal wall.”

  “Ugh.” Amy slammed into the unyielding rock. “It’s too thick.”

  A symbol blazed on the stone. “What’s that?”

  Amy stopped touching the wall, and the outline vanished. She shoved, grinding her knuckles into the rock. Thin black lines snaked from her fist, forming a triangle separated into three smaller triangles. Flames simmered beneath the lines, turning them gold.

  Naomi gaped at symbol. “It’s a triforce.”

  Whoever coded this patch was a Zelda fan.

  “This has to be it!” My excitement echoed. “We need to go through it.”

  Amy pummeled the barrier, releasing grunts of frustration. It refused to budge.

  “Have you ever played Zelda?” Naomi asked.

  “Yep. A few times.” I studied the glowing triforce, my heart pounding. “In the first game, there were some hidden caves. The only way inside was by bombing walls.”

  “We don’t have bombs.” Amy cycled through her inventory. A myriad of weapons popped into her hand one at a time as she struck the rock, none of them having any effect. “Nothing works. Damn it.”

  Naomi fingered her chin. “Lighting or fire won’t work. I don’t have explosives on me.”

  What did I have? My crossbow and dagger would be useless. So would my money.

  I grabbed my lute out of habit, fingering the strings. “Maybe I should sing about bombs.”

  Absentminded, Naomi nodded. “There has to be a way to open this passage. Otherwise why make a quest anyone could find?”

  “Yeah.” My thumb plucked a string.

  Naomi snapped toward the sound. “Wait, that’s it! James, play something!”

  Was she joking? “What, like Cherry Bomb?”

  “No, any song from the games. Do Zelda’s Lullaby.”

  “Worth a shot.” The girls waited for me. “Er—how does it go again?”

  “Dun—daaa—dun.” Naomi hummed the melody, and I played the three notes twice.

  An ascending tune chimed from the triforce as it blazed into solid shape. Then the door lifted into the ceiling, shaking the castle’s foundations. Torches burned ahead.

  Naomi ducked inside first, Amy and I close behind. I walked into a hallway much like the one we’d just left. A red carpet with a stitched triforce pattern welcomed us. Torches cast the hall in an ethereal glow.

  The hall led to a circular study. Amy stepped onto the hardwood floors, gaping at the elegant furnishings. Naomi wandered to a squashy armchair facing a crackling fireplace. It looked like a fussy, old man’s office. Leather ottomans lay next to recliners, and the room was decorated in warm browns and bright-red rugs. An impressive bookcase lined the wall that held the brick fireplace. I strolled to inspect a massive oil painting towering above a mahogany desk. It depicted a pasty, thirty-something man dressed in flannels and jeans, sitting in the same chair near the fire. His hand rested on a dog’s head. He wore a shit-eating grin. His name was inscribed on the frame in thick letters.

  DALE

  “Wow.” Amy gaped at the illustration. “That’s him.”

  A quick search produced nothing but junk. Porcelain plates. Achievement awards. Placeholder books.

  “Hello, existential crisis.” Naomi opened a cupboard near the desk, which was lined with bottles of oak-matured mead. “He couldn’t have stored better booze?”

  I searched his drawers, finding notepads tucked in the drawers. They were packed with design sketches, random phrases, and crude drawings of breasts. A glass paperweight sat on the table, holding down a note.

  “Hey, there’s something here.” I lifted it to my face, reading the chicken scratch. “‘Welcome to Dale’s fourth stash. Hi, I’m Dale. Nice to meet you! If you’re a player that found this place, you are awesome!’”

  Amy raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”

  “‘I’m totally stoked that you’ve found my secret stash,’” I continued. “‘There are several hidden Dale rooms. You’ve found the last one I designed. I’ll bet you’re wondering what the hell this is—and I don’t blame you. The folks at Cascadia Quest wouldn’t have liked knowing this room existed. They don’t know I snuck this into the game. I’m supposed to erase all trace of my existence from the public build, even though I’m the reason we have a networked AI that doesn’t crash every ten minutes. They want to replace me with an outside hire—the fucking bastards. I’ve worked twelve-hour shifts for six months building this game, and I’m not paid overtime. There’s never enough time to fix all the bugs. I haven’t seen my kids in weeks. Anyway—sorry. Got a little carried away. So, congratulations. I hope you find this reward useful. Here’s the chest. Good luck!’”

  As I finished reading the letter, a light beamed from the floorboards near the desk, where a chest materialized out of nowhere. It landed with an ungainly thump.

  I grinned at Naomi. “Want to do the honors?”

  “You should,” she said.

  Amy nodded, grinning. “Yeah. Open it!”

  “All right.” I touched the chest, and a UI pop-up overwhelmed my vision.

  chestContents(debugChest60161, variableContents)

  [

  stash_Dale(characterLevel_4, characterClass_Bard)

  ]

  The lid yawned, belching a stream of silver and gold coins. Money spilled over our feet. Amy laughed, fat silver coins cascading over her hands. The mound of treasure nearly buried the chest. Finally, the cascade slowed to a trickle. An ebony handle protruded from the depths of the chest. Six strings ran down its long neck, which swelled into a glossy, black electric guitar.

  “Wow.” I stared, hardly believing my luck.

  “We are so fucking rich.” Amy stooped, grabbing a handful
of coins. “This is amazing!

  I gaped at the treasure.

  9999 gold

  We were rich.

  Ecstasy filled Naomi’s gaze as she knelt at the pile of treasure. “This is more money than I know what to do with.”

  “Oh, I have lots of plans for it.” Opening a bag, Amy shoved fistfuls inside. “I will buy the best gear. A giant axe smelted from gold. Or diamonds.”

  I studied the guitar. “This is so much cooler than the lute.”

  It reflected my face like a mirror. I touched it. Energy pulsed through the lacquer, engulfing me in darkness.

  Eighteen

  Initiate Debug Mode…

  Loading Dump File…

  [Error 292: Invalid user at DebugAccess40:022]

  [Error 104: Module failure onLoad debugInstance.sys]

  [Error 919: Function conflict override]

  New DebugAccess Input:Zt

  [

  Override (q4351.sys)

  Character.CogniSystem.ForceResolve(zt, location3001:0546)

  Character.PercepSystem.ForceResolve(zt, location3001:0546)

  Character.BodySystem.ForceResolve(new bodySystem)

  Character.ControlSystem.ForceResolve(new controlSystem)

  ]

  ForceReload(Character)

  I was bodiless. A cascading field of text and numbers scrolled across my vision. The cursor blinked before spitting out more code. It rolled faster than I could read, blending into the gloom.

  Sounds of a roaring ocean filled my ears. My knees struck a soft, gritty surface. I curled my fingers into the substance, which sparkled like diamonds. The brilliance faded as warm water lapped my feet. Seagulls cawed overhead as I stood.

  I was on a beach. Turquoise waters washed the bank, which wrapped around a cliff where stone buildings overlooked the island. A cloudless blue sky reflected the ocean.

  Where am I?

  Sighing, I followed the curve of the shore. Developers should know that players don’t like being dumped in locations with no forewarning. There was nothing new in my quest log.

  Odd.

  I walked up a hill, boots sinking into the sand. Thick vegetation surrounded all sides, crawling up immense villas with terracotta roofs. A thrill of recognition ran through me.

  I was here. The Ancient Isle.

  Everything looked the same as the tutorial, except nobody wandered the path. No footprints were leading away from the sand, only mine. And I couldn’t hear a single soul. The bar was there, but it was empty. No bartender was inside to greet me. Not a stray glass in sight.

  How and why didn’t matter. All I cared about was getting out of here and resuming my real life. I cried out in relief as I left the bar and sprinted over the cobblestones.

  I burst into the town square, past the hulking warrior statue, and headed toward the help desk where UI screens floated in midair.

  God, this was it.

  Touching the guitar had somehow launched me into the tutorial area.

  The portal wasn’t here. Neither were the players. There was only one staff member wearing the blue polo and khaki pants, and he waved as I approached.

  I was going home. Finally.

  Heart hammering, I sprinted to the desk.

  “Hello, my name is Tom.” A man with close-cropped hair and vaguely handsome features addressed me. “How may I assist you?”

  “Thank God!” I collapsed over the counter. “You need to help me! Can I—can I send a message to someone from my contact list?”

  “No, I’m sorry.” The receptionist smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately, it’s against our company’s privacy policy to deliver communications to your contact list.”

  Motherfucker. “I’m giving you permission to access everything in my account.”

  “Sorry,” Tom repeated in the same, bland tone. “For security reasons, authorization to your account cannot be given in-game. If you would like to access our Frequently Asked Questions, please browse the Customer Support tab in your menu.”

  “I have to contact an admin.”

  “Oh!” Tom brightened. “I can help with that. Simply open your Customer Support tab from your menu, and—”

  My fist slammed into the wood. “I can’t do anything, damn you. There’s no way for me to communicate with anyone!”

  Tom blinked. “You can’t?”

  “No. I’ve been trying for days, but my options are grayed out.”

  “One moment please.” A dreamlike expression smoothed his face for a second. “I’ve located your account. Number 6210451. Is your address 345 Pine St. Number 12, New York City—”

  “Yes! That’s me!”

  “Excellent. I’m sorry, but I have not received confirmation of any glitch in the system.”

  “What?” For the love of God, I wished I didn’t have to deal with this stupid NPC. “Thousands of people are trapped! They can’t log out!”

  “Again, I am unaware of any technical issues—”

  “Whatever,” I barked. “Get me the hell out of here.”

  “Certainly. However, I must warn you that any progress made in-game will be deleted. Your inventory will be wiped out, and any quests you completed will—”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Your contact list will also be purged,” Tom continued, unperturbed by my outburst. “Do I have your permission to force a memory wipe on your console?”

  “Hold on.” My heart hammered in my ears. “Does that mean I won’t be able to find the people I met in the game?”

  “That is correct.”

  Naomi and Amy’s faces swam into my mind. I imagined them huddled in that basement, waiting for me. How long would they stay there before giving up?

  “But I have friends in there.” I searched Tom’s blank expression for a shred of understanding. “They’re trapped, too. I can’t just leave them.”

  “Apologies. I can’t save your contacts after a reset.”

  “Hang on a second. I have their names. Naomi and Amy. Can’t you search?”

  “Absolutely!” A screen materialized next to Tom’s beaming smile. “There are over twelve thousand players in the Cascadia Quest network with those names.”

  A quick scan told me I’d never find them. Even if I did, Naomi and Amy couldn’t receive messages.

  How would I contact them?

  “Well, maybe I could raise awareness about the game when I log out. Naomi in the real world is bound to watch the news. Maybe—maybe she’ll figure it out.” My stomach sank.

  I didn’t know where they were from. Their real identities were a mystery. In all our time together, I’d never bothered to find out more about them. Hell, they could be anywhere.

  “Can I bring them with me?”

  “Unclear.” Tom bent his head, frowning. “You seem to have transported here through an exploit in the system. A back door, if you will.”

  “The guitar.” I couldn’t care less about the damn thing. “I-I think I have to leave the game.”

  “You’re sure?” Tom drummed his fingers over the counter, cheerful as ever. “Remember, you will never see your friends again.”

  I met Tom’s bottomless gaze, sickened. “Staying won’t help them. If I get out, maybe I have a shot at fixing this mess.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  No, I couldn’t do this.

  What would Naomi say? If she knew I had a chance of saving us all and didn’t take it, she’d never talk to me again.

  I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth. “Yeah.”

  I would meet them after this was over. There would be a way—a support group online to reconnect with people in the game. I’d make it happen. This wasn’t goodbye forever. I wished I could explain myself.

  “Huh,” Tom said. “I never imagined you’d leave them.”

  A chill spider-crawled down my spine. “What?”

  “The girls.” Tom leaned closer. “Your companions. They seem fond of you.”

  Something funny was going on. “It’s not li
ke I’m abandoning them in the dust.”

  “You’re fleeing. Some would call that the coward’s way out.”

  What the hell? “I didn’t ask for your opinion. Take me back.”

  Tom’s voice darkened. “Why don’t you want to stay here?”

  “I have a life I need to return to, man. We can do the bullshit customer service survey later.”

  Shadows rolled over the desk, shrouding the pleasant warmth from the sun. It was as though the darkness was a paintbrush over the world, stripping away the facade. Even Tom changed. His face widened. A short, stubby nose grew, and hair shot to his ears. Familiarity swam to the surface as I recognize the man I hadn’t seen in days.

  It was my face. Not the avatar’s in the game—in reality.

  “We’ll do it now,” he declared. “Why aren’t you satisfied?”

  I moved from the help desk, which was no longer white and smooth. Everything was wrong. The buildings in the town square were in ruins, the beautiful white stone blackened. Leafless palms arched toward an acid-yellow sky. The ground became scorched earth. My surroundings looked like they’d aged a thousand years.

  “What is going on?” I pointed at him. “How did you—?”

  His eyes flared like two suns. “I don’t understand why you want to give up.”

  “How do you know what I look like?”

  “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours. Why do you want to leave?”

  “Because we lose our fucking minds if we die!”

  “That was supposed to make you accept this world.” Tom looked disappointed. “Think of what you’ve left behind. You’ll never catch a cold ever again. You’ll never age. You’ll never have to scour websites for a software development job you don’t want.”

  Shaking, I backed away from him. “How the fuck do you know that?”

  He prodded his cheek, which was still mine. “There isn’t much I don’t know about you, James Foster. Twenty-six. Average intelligence. Slightly above average. Although you somehow deluded yourself into applying to Ivy Leagues.”

  A chill zipped down my spine. “Are you that programmer, Dale?”

  “No.” He tapped his nametag. “I hijacked a few things I found lying around.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Stepping from the desk, Tom sighed. “You’re asking the wrong questions, James. Who cares about me? You should be more concerned about surviving the game. Progressing in Cascadia Quest should be your highest priority!”