by J. R. Ford
“I have six symbols: fire, water, lightning, stone, flesh, and execute. All the spells are four symbols long — an element, fire, another element, then the execute symbol.” Her hand contorted for each one, with the final symbol being a simple outstretched finger.
“A sound effect will play in your head each time you form a symbol successfully. Listen for it in battle, so you don’t have to watch your hands.”
“I heard it,” she said, excitement bubbling in her voice.
“Good. Now, the second phase of casting a spell occurs when the caster forms their class’s execute command. The mana is discharged in the form of a spell. Observe.” He stood and made four slow gestures while eyeing the jagged wall. “Stone, fire, water, execute.” With one outstretched finger, he poked the wall. A square centered on his finger glowed yellow, and as he leapt back, it became water. It sloshed out of the cubic niche in the wall and cascaded down the stairs. I stood to avoid the spillage, despite already being soaked. “As an Alchemist, you can transmute freely between stone, water, lightning, and fire, though you should be careful with the last two.”
Heather was awed, and immediately moved to carve a stair of her own. As the stone shifted to water, it splashed across her legs, knocking her back. I steadied her with a hand and asked Pradeep, “You’re an Alchemist? They didn’t list that on the plaque.”
“Plaque?” he asked.
“In Bluehearth, on your column,” I said. “It said you were a Storm and a Visceral.”
He paused. “Ah, yes. They seem to get a lot wrong about me. Most seem to think me some sort of hero.”
“What about shapeshift?” Heather said, but before Pradeep could respond, she was already symbolling. “Flesh, fire, fire, execute!” Fiery yellow light enveloped her, and when the glow faded, she was a wolf. She barked a couple of times, scampered up and down some stairs, then glowed again and was back. “Weird,” she said.
“You look like a natural,” I said.
“It feels natural. But there are so many options…wolf, bear, cat, and goat. I’ll need to practice. And it costs mana — between that and the transmutation, I’m at 65 of 100.”
“Transmute is a one-time cost, while shapeshifting drains mana continuously,” Pradeep said. “It’ll recharge with time — the Fireheart within you constantly generates mana. But you must maintain elemental balance. Transmuting one element or shapeshifting to one form repeatedly will cost more mana. But if you manage to maintain elemental balance, transmuting to and from all elements and shapeshifting between all of your forms, you can gain a full mana refund.”
“And what happens if I’m injured in animal form? Or killed?”
“It’ll hurt, but when you revert, you’ll be whole. Still best to be careful. Death is nasty, even when you survive.” I’d been close enough to know the truth in that.
“How does all this relate to Nullifiers?” she asked, focusing on him again.
“There is a substance called null. Consider it the opposite of mana, and like opposing poles, each pulls at the other. As mana leaves the Artifact and enters the caster’s body, the void yawns, ready to absorb it. Once the mana is discharged as a spell, the void draws the mana down, down to the Null Ocean in the depths of this world.”
I didn’t like the sound of this so far. Our last spelunking trip had gone poorly. “Vedanth said he had a Nullifier here. You mentioned a Null Droplet?”
“What do you think happens if some symbols are made, but the execute command doesn’t come?”
Heather was quick. “I made some symbols earlier, and they didn’t form a spell, but I didn’t lose any mana. So the mana must return to the Fireheart instead of sinking to the Null Ocean.”
“Exactly. The void is not drawn to mana within Artifacts, and though it is drawn to mana in the body, it can only absorb it once it manifests as a spell. However, when a mage dies, their Artifacts are destroyed.”
He paused, as if expecting us to work something out. I was clueless.
Heather sounded unsure. “Like opposing poles…so if a mage dies with mana inside their body, the void is drawn to it, but can’t claim it. Is that what a Null Droplet is?”
“Keen, aren’t you? A Null Droplet grants a level in the Nullifier class.” He gave us a grave look. “To become a Nullifier, one must kill a mage mid-spellcast. I could not in good conscience kill another Beta tester, so I instead sought my brother, who already possessed such power.”
“I get the sense your brother isn’t a very stand-up guy,” I said.
“That’s a matter of perspective. He thought his actions were for the greater good.”
“Well, maybe he’ll see the greater good in saving Ana,” Heather said.
Pradeep snorted. “Any other questions?”
Might as well milk this cow for all it’s worth. “Do you know where any other Artifacts are?” I asked.
“Most Artifacts are either placed by developers as rewards for exploration or acquired as a result of killing a boss monster, which are sustained by Artifacts. Like my giant form.”
“Or the Mollusking?” Heather asked. She seemed half-distracted, practicing her shapes, her eyes focused on an invisible menu.
“What a beast,” Pradeep said. “The Mollusking is a level 2 boss. Killing it would net you both a Fireheart and an Hourglass of Dust — the Artifact for Hexes,” he added, upon our blank stares. “The slug population would also become inert. The mana for their spells stem from those Artifacts.”
“Any chance of a Nullifier boss nearby?” I asked.
“None exist,” Pradeep said.
Drat. Vedanth’s assistance was still our best out.
“Is there anything else you think we should know?” Heather asked, still slowly tracing gestures.
He laughed and scooped up his torch. “Maintain that curiosity of yours, it’ll serve you well.”
He plowed ahead of us — me lagging as my thighs began to burn, Heather going slow from parsing the menus. “Oh!” she said. “I’m number 1!”
“Damn straight,” then I checked for myself. Sure enough, with 537 points, Heather ranked number 1. Guess Pradeep wasn’t on the leaderboard.
Something else caught my eye. My viewership had grown to about 1,000,000. Great. Now when I inevitably screwed up, I’d become an international laughingstock. Maybe I should’ve let one of those boulders crush me, instead of all these eyes.
But Ana still needed us. I could carry the weight of that foreshadowed disappointment, if it meant saving her.
“Eating the Fireheart gave me 500 points,” Heather said.
I shook myself and released the UI. “You’ll probably keep that position a while. The Storm’s Breath was crushed in the cave in.”
“And I have over 2,000,000 viewers! That’s kind of terrifying, actually.”
“Afraid you’ll embarrass yourself?” I could sympathize.
She shook her head. Guess I was still a poor oracle. “Every girl who’s ever played an online game has had an encounter like I did with Edwin. I can’t fail them.”
“You — we — won’t.” The more I said it, the more I believed it.
She smiled at me. “Not while we have each other.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Plus, think about the loot. Dollar dollar bills. Wait, what do you use in Britain?”
“Pound pound coins doesn’t work as well,” she admitted.
“That’s running away money,” I said. “Go-to-university-in-person-somewhere money. Visit-me-and-Ana money.”
Her expression fell. “I’ve told you, my father—”
“You’re rich!” I said. “I think. I’m not sure how much those points are actually worth, but 500 has to be loads. And it’s your money, not his.”
“Pavel, please. Drop it.”
My mouth was still open, but I’d learned better than to press.
After a moment, Heather said, “Drill me!”
“Won’t you waste mana?”
“Not if I don’t execute. So just call three e
lements in a row, and remember, the middle one is always fire.”
“Got it. Lightning, fire, stone! Water, fire, fire! Flesh, fire, lightning!”
She gained speed and confidence as she practiced. The stairs kept winding. Soon she could gesture as fast as I could call them, without fumbles or misshapen poses. She beamed at me.
“You deserve it,” I said. “Both your powers and first place.”
“I thought you said my worth wasn’t determined by some virtual number.”
“Ana’s alive because of you.”
“We haven’t saved her yet.”
“We’re going to. Same thing.” It had to be.
21
We peeked over the rim of the staircase. It opened into a circular, ceiling-less hall. The stairs continued their jagged ascent along the wall, up to a landing and door. Opposite us, I could just see the top of a gate leading outside, over the top of a sleeping silver dragon.
Rain pounded on the tiles, and crackling lightning shimmered across the brilliant silver scales of the beast. It slept curled up, a head as long as I was tall resting on tree trunk forelimbs. Its wings folded in tight to its body. Its tail flicked back and forth absently. A giant, gory bowl sat beside it, and bones were strewn around the room.
“A rather stronger guardian than I was, at least in giant form,” Pradeep said. “But with my spells, I should prove more than its match. That gate will take you down to the Vale. I’ll catch up with you once I’ve secured the Null Droplet.” That meant the other door led to Vedanth’s tower. We stepped onto the floor, and the dragon opened one white eye.
It hissed, and we ran. Pradeep charged, fingers incanting.
The dragon’s gaze followed us, and its maw opened wide. Fire rose from its gorge. Heather skidded to a stop on the tiles, whirled, and made a few wild gestures. A ball of burning flame leapt for us, its heat scorching my face. But before it could cook us, it changed to water. It splashed onto me and knocked me into the wall. Heather reeled, clutching her hand. I grabbed her and rushed up the staircase.
Before I slammed the door, curiosity tempted me. Pradeep had conjured a purple ring in front of his palm, and the dragon cowered before him.
Best not to press our luck. I shut the door and rested on a nearby wall.
We stood in an open-air corridor. A few feet away from the door, white water charged across the hallway in a torrent. It roared in our ears and sprayed mist. There were no walls, not even handrails, only pillars supporting a stone roof, allowing the water and biting wind through.
I looked down at the village. Rain fell in thick sheets. I couldn’t see Ana. Most of the Enlightened congregated around the cave mouth, their robes sodden and dull. One emerged pushing a wheelbarrow of debris.
No way. The Storm’s Breath had been crushed, hadn’t it?
A light flickered out in the dark landscape. A few lights, to be precise, weak alone but together bright enough to catch my eye. Out in the Vale, another army marched toward the village, wearing the namesake tabards of the Azure Lance. I could only hope that they marched to defeat the weakened Enlightened. Captain Absame was no friend of mine, but I’d take him over Edwin Casper any day of the week.
Heather tentatively approached the torrent and extended her hand, which was red and swollen, into the spray. She sighed in relief. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah, you saved me. Only the third time today.”
“Easy maths. Our lives are priceless, right? Well, three times priceless is still priceless, and I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. Call us even.”
“Sure. Now, how do we get through here?”
Heather extended her other hand and took the time to form the perfect shapes. “Water…fire…stone…” She poked the river, and a cubic section of it glowed fiery yellow before transforming to stone. The block had the texture of water, and where rivulets of air had permeated the flow, it was air still. I suddenly understood the rippling streets and grainy walls of Bluehearth: they had been cast from water.
The rest of the river crashed against the block, spraying in every direction, but most of it splashed down harmlessly outside the corridor. We snuck along the leeward side, where water only streamed, the stone cube forming an effective bulwark. Ahead, the torrent still flowed.
“I don’t think transmuting the next section will revert this one,” Heather said.
“Agreed,” I said, thinking of the walls of Bluehearth.
Heather incanted transmute and reached out. Water froze into undulating stone. After more sneaking and clinging, we reached a solid oaken door reinforced with iron bands.
“How much mana did that cost?” I asked.
“Twenty each. I’m at 55.”
Seemed dangerously low, considering we hadn’t even entered the main tower.
“Think the warlock will be in here?” Heather asked.
“One way to find out.” The ring handle turned with the creak and scrape of disuse.
The stench of rotting death assailed us immediately. I recoiled and pulled my cloak up around my nose. The interior was dim, but there was a lantern of wood and paper on a small table next to the door. I grabbed it without stepping inside. “Can you transmute this on fire?”
“If you put water on it, I can transmute that to fire.” She shuddered. “But the dragon-fire burned before I could touch it.”
I let the water on my hand stream down into a droplet and wiped it on the tip of the wick. She gestured, then touched it and jerked back. The tip flared for a second, then settled to a steady burn. It did little to penetrate the darkness past the threshold.
No choice. I drew the Lightning Blade and stepped in. It took a second for my eyes to adjust.
Large, bell-shaped cages of iron and stone lined the hall. Many were empty. In others, skeletons lay. Some were vaguely snakelike, some birdlike but with strange, long skulls. Bone protrusions marred the remains. Dark blood stained the tiles.
Other cages stood open. An inspection of one chilled my blood. Burst from the inside. Sharp marks scored the iron bars. It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t remember what. Perhaps I just didn’t want to.
“Can you see a way up?” Heather asked. We explored deeper into the deathly kennels, through rows and rows of cages. A grim menagerie, abandoned when the Beta ended.
I tried to keep my mind away from the open cages, to no avail. Something scraped at the back of my mind, slowing my steps. The dark beckoned, indiscernible beyond the light of my wavering lantern. I wanted to find nothing.
But as we reached the far wall, I found exactly what I’d feared: a hole burrowed through the stone, about three feet wide. The darkness therein pierced my feet and rooted them to the tiles. Panic wrapped its cold fingers around my throat.
My television flickered to life, and suddenly I was back in Riyaasat, choking on the stink of fermid pheromones. Chitinous bodies pressed in from every side, horrible, paralyzing. When I shut my eyes, the darkness was like those infernal tunnels, like the oozing maw of a fermid leaping down upon me.
“There’s a hatch here,” Heather said from behind me, “leading down.” Creaking sound. “And a ladder.”
She was right there. I tried to call her, but I had no breath in my lungs. I could barely think. Don’t just stand there, weakling, say something! Do something!
“Pav? Are you all right?” She followed my gaze. “We need to go.” She pulled at my arm and jostled me free.
We turned to the trapdoor she’d found. Sounds of carapace on stone raked at my ears from all around, but whether from my memory or the present, I couldn’t tell. She held a rock chip in her burnt hand, then, incanting with her left, whipped the shard down and jabbed it. It fell for a moment, glowing, then cracked down the trapdoor as lightning. Though it ruined our dark vision, it briefly illuminated a sea of churning black and ochre.
Heather slammed the door shut. “Up, now!”
Skittering echoed as we raced through the rows of cages, searching for an ascent, anything to
get us away. Then, ahead of us, two fermids emerged from holes in the stonework. Mandibles clicked and gave old horror flesh. There was no vinegar to save us here, no Ana. Only us and the beasts.
Heather glowed aflame, and a black bear stood in her place. I led with the Lightning Blade, shutting my eyes against the blazing circuitry, feeling it chop into carapace. I tried to yank it free, but the shuddering numbed my hands.
Heather swiped at the other, claws raking against its head ineffectually. Its pincers snapped around one of her forelimbs and dug in. She roared as blood spurted. It shook her, tearing flesh, and Heather was back. She jerked away before its mandibles could close again. She seemed unscathed but for the fear and pain on her face.
“You good?” The lantern clattered against the floor as I drew my mundane weapons.
“It hurt, but I’m fine now.”
Seeing her being bitten like that did wonders for my confidence. I don’t believe in portents, but it didn’t take an oracle to notice the foreshadowing, not with my television stuck on the Devoured by Ants channel. Still I lunged, rapier driving for one of the fermid’s huge black eyes. It skittered to the side and my strike glanced off. But my dagger was already on its way to plunge its entire length into its other eye. I leapt away from sizzling acid as the corpse began to shudder.
We fell prone behind one of the cages, for what little protection the bars would afford us. I covered my neck with my hands, dropping my weapons. With a popping sound, acid sprayed, but no burning sensation came. Heather leaned past me and checked my back.
“You’re clean.”
“You too.” I grabbed my weapons and lantern.
We hurried through the hall, the skittering growing louder. At last, the lantern light caught on a staircase hugging the wall ahead.
We sprinted up to the next level. The skittering now rang throughout the hall in an overlapping cacophony. A glance behind told us that the horde was closing in.
Another door awaited us at the top of the staircase. From beyond it came a muffled roaring. Heather wrenched the door open.
Intense heat and light flared in our faces. We jerked back.
