Storm's Breath: A GameLit Fantasy Adventure (Nullifier Book 1)

by J. R. Ford

  As Heather was stepping down, I nodded at Absame and whispered to Emily, “Why is he singing?”

  “Says it helps him cast the spell. Something about the rhythm. By the way, what the hell were you doing? I didn’t strike you as an arsonist.”

  “Just a bad thief,” I said, before Absame stomped over.

  “What’s going on here?” He’d stopped singing, and his voice was harsher for it. His body had stilled as well, and his arm rested at his side.

  “These two tried to assassinate me,” Edwin said. “They killed my guards, and when I defended myself, they set the guild on fire! My apprentices are in there!”

  “We didn’t try to assassinate you,” Ana said hotly, “and your own magic caused the fire! I admit we broke in, to steal your whip, after you tried to kill Pav this morning!”

  “I wasn’t going to kill him, only teach him a lesson,” Edwin said.

  “Enough!” Absame said. “I don’t care. Neither of you will try anything else while you’re in my city.”

  Both Ana and Edwin turned on him. “Your city?” they asked, almost in unison, with voices that could scald.

  “The laws of the Azure Lance are the laws of Bluehearth.”

  “Who gave you that right?” Ana said.

  “I did. To stop fools like you from getting innocent people killed.”

  As he spoke, more Lancers arrived, several supporting people in yellow robes caked with soot.

  Absame turned to Edwin, “And while you abandoned your wards, I saved them. The law exists to protect. If you disagree, you will be exiled.”

  Edwin spat. “You don’t even have the courage to threaten me properly. Boohoo, I’ll be exiled. Keep playing cop. We’ll see who has the real power soon enough.”

  Absame didn’t flinch.

  Someone shoved their way toward us. It was the orange-robed Goon Two I’d stabbed, supported by a burly Lancer.

  “Yao! You survived!” Real surprise crossed Edwin’s face.

  Yao’s hand flicked arcane symbols. No, wait, that was just sign language.

  Edwin said, “Don’t talk to me like that. You’re alive, aren’t you? Let’s find someplace to sleep. And you,” pointing at me, Ana, and Heather, “don’t think this is over. If I catch you making for the Durg, I’ll trash you.” Without a backward glance, he departed. Ana’s glare could’ve set his cape on fire.

  Yao hobbled after him. The Lancer let him go.

  Absame turned his cold ire on us. “What were you thinking, breaking into his home and trying to kill him?”

  Ana matched his stare. “We had to do something. You weren’t going to.”

  “We would have if you had reported him,” Absame said magnanimously.

  “And validate your authority? You don’t get to lecture me. You’re just a hopped-up, petty warlord.”

  He flinched. When he spoke, his words shook with iron restraint. “You have no idea what a real warlord looks like. Don’t bandy words you don’t understand.” He stomped off.

  Ana still smoldered, but she didn’t say anything back. If I hadn’t known her better, I might have thought her humbled.

  After a moment, I asked, “What are we going to do?” Edwin’s threat hadn’t seemed idle, and if the night had taught me anything, it was that a direct confrontation with him would leave us crippled or dead.

  “Don’t ask stupid questions,” she said. “You know what we’re going to do.”

  11

  “Come on, lighten up,” Ana said, then chuckled at her bad joke. Heather remained taciturn, her expression unreadable in the darkness before dawn.

  Not that I blamed her. It was our fault that Edwin had posted apprentices on the road to Tyrant’s Vale, forcing us to sneak out of the city via the south gate under shroud of darkness. It put us on the wrong side of the river, badly rested, and in ill tempers.

  Ana talked like she was fine, as if showing weakness would be admitting that we shouldn’t have gone after Edwin. But I could see the pain behind her tight gait and the way she moved her burnt back and arm. I bore the party pack for her sake, though I had to admit I liked seeing myself spike on the leaderboards from carrying the Amulet of Reverse Transformation.

  No one was on the road this early in the morning, not even us. We walked farm paths, angling for the western forests. We’d need a bridge to cut north at some point, a bridge we’d fall from when we came to it. For now, I relied on my prior knowledge from walking this way on my first journey to Bluehearth.

  “The spear make a good walking stick?” Ana asked. Heather’s silence continued. Ana forfeited.

  At least no Enlightened ambushed us. We made it to the forest just as the horizon dipped below the sun. I turned back to see orange clouds over the glowing city.

  Looking northward, I could see no figures where the road west entered the forest, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  The forest was thin enough to walk through, at least for the moment. The problem was navigation. We hadn’t been under the green blanket thirty minutes before I’d lost all sense of direction. Ana walked on with the relentlessness I’d come to expect from her. I hoped her pride wasn’t getting us more lost. She had the compass, at least.

  Each thump of Heather’s spear reaffirmed her determination, or at least her stubbornness. Sunlight pierced the canopy in shafts, illuminating insects and dust in the air.

  Lunchtime came, only marked by my stomach’s reminders. Dry rations. Heather looked as if she wanted to complain about being lost but kept stoic. I helped her out. “Where are we?”

  Ana shrugged, mouth full. After swallowing, she said, “We’re still heading west. We need to turn north, find the river, and cross it. From there, it’ll be a straight shot to Tyrant’s Vale.”

  As long as Edwin didn’t find and off us, of course. But there was no sense in saying what was already known.

  Ana led us north, and the forest and hills thickened. Scrub and ferns brushed at our cuffs, then pulled at our feet. Heather holstered her spear in a loop over her shoulder.

  A rise in the land had us huffing and puffing through the underbrush, but the view from the top was worth it. We could see the mountains stretch away, a barrier in the west from horizon to horizon. I hadn’t realized how close we’d come over the day’s journey. I thought I could see the break in the mountains behind which the Vale hid, far to the north.

  We oriented ourselves toward it and continued the trek. My mind escaped to the television screen, airing daydreams of Ana. Where before they had been tinged with apprehension, now they tasted of inevitability as bitter as almonds.

  Last week’s prophesies mocked me. If only the heart were a rational organ, perhaps it could’ve protected itself.

  Each episode showed a different way of being let down. With a tear, “If things were different…if I weren’t a rich heiress out of New York and you a poor chump destined to waste his life on Standard…” With a hot, “I can’t believe you only helped so you could get close to me!” Or, more scathing still, “I can’t believe you actually thought you had a chance!”

  She wouldn’t say them anywhere but on my screen. Still my tongue tasted sour as I bit back scripted retort: “Of course, stupid me, thinking you had time for anyone but yourself…” Lines I knew I wouldn’t say, just as I knew she wouldn’t say hers, though best not give either of us the chance. A breath of fresh air did nothing to dispel gloom’s miasma.

  The rustling ferns encouraged a stop. With every grasping frond they asked, “Why are you still here?” The question fell across my ankles heavy as iron chain.

  Because it was the right thing to do. Because my sixteen years of passivity had passed. Because I wanted to be a hero, or because I wanted people to think I was a hero, and abandoning a quest because my crush had shot me down would seal any doubt. Each answer was more pathetic than the last.

  At least my misery had company. Heather still wore an expression as grim as my own, and that turned mine to a smile, briefly. Even if her strugg
les had zero in common with mine, and her mind likely wandered far different paths to my own.

  I wondered: would we have been friends without Ana? Heather would just have been a pretty face in a crowded street.

  There were 100,000 players here, minus those already dead. How many of those might I have made friends with? My mind cast back to Farrukh, the first person I’d spoken to. He might’ve been my traveling companion, had he not pierced my heroic façade so quickly. But as I checked, the red dot next to his name attested to his survival, with close to 200 points to boot. It brought a smile to my lips.

  “Hey,” Ana said. “I think that’s a road.” I didn’t believe her until I saw it myself, ahead through the trees, thirty feet away. We clawed through the last of the underbrush.

  Ana laughed, weary, but smiling that infectious smile. “The hard part is over. No way Edwin has screens this far out.”

  We turned left along the path. Ana’s steps had some bounce back in them. Two hours of exhaustion later, just as dusk descended, we reached a settlement not unlike the one I’d spawned at. A shop, inn, grocer, tailor, and caravanserai huddled around a dusty fountain. Three roads disappeared into the forest. Horses, two roans and a gray, watched us from the shade of the stables. And above the trees, the mountains stared down.

  We made for the inn. The notice board only advertised a single quest, to clear a place called Waterfall Quarry of some trollbats in exchange for 20 gold.

  The taproom was empty but for a barkeep, polishing a glass with a smirk on his face. “Looking for a place to stay?” he asked. “Pallets by the oven for 3 silver a night, or a room for 1 gold. Supper and breakfast included.”

  “A bed would be good,” Ana said, “But can we get a pallet and blankets brought up as well?”

  “Aye, for an extra 2 silver.” The barkeep kept smiling.

  “No one else is using that pallet. One silver.”

  “Aye.”

  Ana proffered payment and asked, “Which way to Tyrant’s Vale?”

  He handed her a key. “Take the road between the tailor and the stables. It’ll take you past Waterfall Quarry – would you like to hear about it?”

  “Not really,” I said.

  “No? It’s quite interesting. Back during the Beta, the Alchemists building Bluehearth needed elemental balance, and there were no good quarries near the city, so they—” The barkeeper was taking his time, until Ana cut him off.

  “Alchemists?” she asked.

  “Like that babushka selling Health Potions?” I muttered.

  “Alchemists are masters of changing, not herblore. They can turn water to stone and sculpt human flesh.”

  “Are you trying to sell us something?” Ana asked. “If so, get to the point.”

  “You’d make a good Alchemist, I reckon,” the barkeeper said, still speaking at a slug’s pace. “Alchemists must be balanced, but the best always had a fiery disposition. Just as the strongest Storms always sought greater heights of power, like that old hero, Pradeep Lokesh.”

  Beneath the prattling, I heard thumps. It took me a moment to realize what they were: boots on the stairs.

  An Asian woman and a young Hispanic man turned out of the stairwell and into the room. They froze when they saw us, eyes going wide.

  Ana reacted first. Steel rasped on wooden scabbard, and she had her Lightning Blade pointed at them before either could move.

  “Hands where I can see them!” she said. “You two with the Enlightened?”

  They raised empty hands. The woman shook her head, but the boy didn’t move.

  He had a spear slung across his back. “Wait, you were in the class yesterday,” Ana said. “You little rat!”

  He didn’t say anything.

  Ana spat at his feet. “Pav, check if they have shooters up there.”

  The innkeeper grinned at me when I pushed past the two and thundered up the hallway. No one present. One door was closed. I knocked to no answer, and it was locked shut.

  Movie knowledge fail me not. I stepped in place, heavy footsteps at first, then lighter, then put an ear to the door. Still nothing.

  I returned downstairs in earnest. Ana had corralled the pair into the center of the room. Heather’s spear wavered in the air at their backs. I nodded at Ana, and she gave a slight inclination of acknowledgment. Then she turned to the Enlightened apprentices.

  “Why are you here?” she demanded.

  The woman spoke up, abandoning any pretense. “We were on the lookout.”

  “What were you to do if you found us?”

  “Report back to Edwin.”

  Ana rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “That means we can’t let you go, unless we get your word that you won’t return to him.”

  Neither moved, save the young man’s trembling. Ana scowled. “Was anyone else with you?”

  “No,” the woman said.

  I stepped to face them and lowered my rapier. They each already had one weapon trained on them. “Where y’all from? What’s y’all’s names?”

  “Seoul,” the wide-faced, evidently Korean woman said. “I’m Kim.”

  “Fortaleza. Guilherme.” I placed him younger than me, maybe even thirteen, the age cutoff. He had an accent similar to the Brazilians at last night’s pub and rich brown skin. Dark eyes were wide with fear.

  “Why did you join that scum?” Ana half-shouted. “You saw them trying to kill Pav!”

  Guilherme took a deep breath and met her stare. “You took our money, press-ganged us into your personal army, then left us on our own, while Edwin promised us magic.”

  Ana frowned like she’d never considered the situation from his point of view. I stepped in. “And how do you expect that to happen?”

  “There’s a rota. Any time we find a magic item or cantrip, the next person on the rota gets it. Like Yao and his alarm cantrip.” His English was hurried.

  “Slow down there, bucko. I’m new to this stuff. What are cantrips? Some kind of spell?”

  “They show up under the ‘Spells’ tab on the menu. All you do is make the magic symbols with your hands and something happens.”

  “Like Edwin’s two-sparks lightning trick?”

  “He calls it flash burn, says it’s a Storm cantrip.”

  “Flash burned his entire guild hall down,” I laughed, though Ana remained rigid. Then a sobering thought hit me. “Last night, there was a guy in the building, about your age. White, blond, I think he was in the class too. Did he survive?”

  One shake of his head squashed any hope. “Lukas. We met on the first day. They found his bones.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. Heather sagged, the weight of it settling on her shoulders like an albatross. I’d checked her points, and she hadn’t gained any. Perhaps he’d bled out after some unseen timer ticked down.

  I found it more likely the 5 points had gone to Edwin.

  “Edwin didn’t want to let us in, at first. He thought we were weak. We promised to him, and to each other, that we’d prove ourselves.” Tears brimmed in Guilherme’s eyes. “But now he’s dead, and I’ll never see him again!”

  Kim’s eyes were unwavering stone by comparison.

  “You think we’re going to kill you, kid?” I mean, we probably were. I just didn’t like to think about it. “What did you say about an alarm spell?”

  “Edwin was first on the rota, so he got flash burn. We found the next cantrip in the same dungeon, beneath the city, and so that one went to Yao, the first person to join. You saw him the other night.”

  “Big Asian fellow? Mid-twenties, looked like?”

  “Mmhmm. He tells us this one is a jinx, or a curse — Edwin doesn’t know the best way to translate it. But Yao painted symbols on all the walls of the guild, and now he gets a system notification whenever anyone enters or leaves.”

  “So that was how he’d known we were breaking in.” Not because of the noise we’d made. I could pretend that was the case, to save some scrap of pride.

  “He uses it to enforce the
curfew,” Guilherme continued. “You have to be back by midnight, and can’t leave until dawn, or else you get pushed back one position in the rota.”

  “That’s messed up,” I said. “But you don’t have to go back, now.”

  “What makes you think we don’t want to go back?” Kim asked coldly.

  “Well, he was basically keeping you prisoner…” My analogy fell flat as soon as the words were out of my mouth. “Look, you can find other ways to earn points. Go exploring, do some notice board quests, find some magic items or cantrips on your own. Or learn a trade! You don’t have to choose violence and death!”

  “And who will protect us when bullies like you want our purses?”

  “Like you think Edwin will? You have a nasty shock coming,” Ana said.

  I laughed, grim as the pun was. Then, serious, “What do you think, Guilherme?”

  His voice was small. “I wouldn’t make it on my own. That’s why Lukas and I promised each other…”

  My stomach sank further. “Edwin’s failed you once. Here you are, at our mercy. First he assaulted Heather, then he tried to kill me, and now he’s sent you two here. We could’ve killed you!”

  “We still might,” Ana added. “I shouldn’t have left you the way I did, but that doesn’t excuse you for serving that evil man.”

  Guilherme looked equal parts terrified and confused. Kim had some poker face. I locked eyes with Heather over Guilherme’s shoulder, and the hardness I saw there told me all I needed to know. She wouldn’t let Edwin’s minions live.

  Ana had the same conclusion. “If you swear to us that you won’t return to Bluehearth or seek Edwin, we can let you go. But we have to believe it.”

  “You have to believe it too,” I said. I suspected that if they didn’t, sooner or later either they’d be dead at our feet, or we at theirs.

  Silence turned the walls and floor into mirrors, reflecting resolve and fear. Guilherme looked away, first at the floorboards, then to Kim.