Well Done

by Andrew Seiple

  It was her turn to stand and lift her sister up, help her to her feet.

  Cagna’s voice sounded in her ear, more urgent. “Chase! Get out here now! We need you!”

  “We have to go,” Chase said. “Renny, something’s gone wrong. Go! We’ll catch up!”

  “Cagna, right?” Renny said. “She’s trying to reach me too. Hang on, I’ll get us there fast! Manipulate Air!”

  Then Renny dove, grabbing ahold of Chase’s skirt and they were tumbling, hurtling down the halls the way they’d come. Doors slammed open ahead of them as Renny dropped all his illusions and focused on speed, air turning solid where it needed to be to carry them like a ball in a track.

  “Did you get her?” Greta asked.

  “The dragon? No!” Chase called back, as the wind tried to whip her words from her lips.

  “The dragon? What?” Greta pulled back from Chase, staring her in the eyes. “The dragon’s male!”

  “Yes, there’s another dragon! Not the one the cult worships!”

  Greta shook her head. “No, listen—”

  “Chase!” Cagna barked in her ear. “It’s now or never... oh hell. Oh no.”

  The sheer dread from Cagna’s voice, even muted as it was through the spell, made Chase’s eyes go wide.

  Something very bad had happened.

  She had the feeling they’d made a very, very big mistake, miscalculated in an epic way.

  Greta yelled, and Chase snapped back into focus. “What? What did you say?”

  “They’re not a cult; it’s a trick!”

  The wall ahead of them exploded.

  Renny brought them to a halt with a sharp gesture, sending them spilling across the floor as he whipped the air into a shield, blocking chunks of mortared stone.

  And across the way a massive form rose to one knee.

  His hair was matted with blood and dust; his beard was filthy, but somehow against all the odds his hat was still on his head.

  “That all you got?” The Muscle Wizaard asked.

  Then he fell over.

  And through the hole in the wall, bearing a heavy mace in one hand and a slender blade in the other, came a familiar and very unwelcome form.

  “It’s a trick. They aren’t a cult. They’re really her people,” Greta said, almost sobbing. “They’re all her people.”

  And as the Camerlengo’s spectacles flared in the light of the remaining glowstones, and the woman’s smoldering gaze found the two cowering halvens, Chase realized just where the Inquisition had been hiding.

  CHAPTER 22: THE QUEEN CHECKMATED

  “Signals,” Chase said, as the Camerlengo stalked toward them. “Signals Renny!”

  “Which ones?” The fox said, scrambling backward.

  “All of them! Foresight!”

  She saw what was coming and shoved Greta away. “Go! Ah... Invite Greta to party! Now run!”

  Chase took her own advice, and the halven sisters split, racing down different hallways.

  Then there were multiple Chases fleeing everywhere...

  ...to no avail, as the Camerlengo barreled after Chase. “Useless!” she cried, easily catching up to the real Chase.

  A pain exploding in the back of her skull, Chase fell and skidded a good thirty feet, blinking at the red number above her. A nice fat ‘106’. It hung for a second before dissipating. She blinked her vision clear.

  “Signals!” she shouted again, as the Camerlengo loomed over her...

  ...and plunged the sword in her hand down.

  For a second Chase thought she’d miscalculated, seen the wrong thing in the vision.

  But as metal tore into stone with a shriek, she knew she’d seen things correctly. The sword quivered next to her, inches from her neck.

  She’d pinned Chase to the ground with her blade. Rammed it straight through her clothing into the solid floor below.

  The woman stared down at Chase, eyes without mercy behind her spectacles. “Use a single skill and I’ll come back and kick you unconscious. Now stay here while I clear out the vermin.”

  “Run!” Chase screamed. “Run, everyone! Hide!”

  The woman turned, cloak snapping with the speed of her movement, and darted off into the building.

  Chase swallowed, hard.

  Greta has joined your party!

  Well, there was something at least.

  And there was the fact that Camerlengo Zenobia didn’t want her dead. That was the only reason Chase was still alive. But if she pushed it...

  Chase tried to stand, couldn’t. She lifted her head, stared at the sword hilt. It had gone through every layer of her clothing, and the armor.

  She wriggled a bit, tried to get loose, failed.

  Her eyes flicked left and right. Zenobia wasn’t here but just to be safe... “Silent Activation, Lesser Healing.”

  Your Lesser Healing skill has gone up to level 51!

  Two more recitations and she was at full health again, the pain in her head fading.

  Then she tried to wriggle free of the blade...

  ...no good. It was in there.

  Still, the blade was sharp, and she was strong. Cloth and leather gave as she worked at it, slowly tearing herself free.

  A crash and a boom from nearby, and Chase froze.

  A shout and the Camerlengo’s voice snapped words that echoed through the corridors. Too far off to make it out, definitely a skill.

  Chase resumed sawing herself free.

  This was the worst part.

  Cut off from her friends, not knowing.

  Stuck to realize just how foolhardy she’d been, dragging them into this situation with too little knowledge.

  “An Oracle should know better,” she whispered, hearing cords rip as part of her armor gave. “That’s literally my job.”

  Clack.

  Clack.

  Clack.

  Heels on tiled floor, drawing nearer.

  Chase paused, looking about her. She was in a lounge off to the side of the main hallway, a worn looking place full of couches and chairs. A chess set lay in splinters on the tile, glass pieces shattered from where she’d plowed through the table supporting it.

  A mostly intact white queen stared up at her, just as a a black heel came down on it, crunching it to bits beneath metal-shod footwear.

  Chase stared up, past the chainmail skirt, to the Camerlengo’s pinched, drawn face.

  She was smiling. It sat unnaturally on her face, thin lips over crooked teeth.

  “It was you, all along,” Chase said. “There is no dragon cult. There’s only the Inquisition.”

  “You’ve healed yourself and disobeyed my instructions,” said Camerlengo Zenobia. “I should kick you in the head a few more times.”

  But there was the tiniest bit of smugness in her tone. Her posture, her body language...

  She’d won.

  She thought she had, and to be fair Chase knew that the cards she had left were a long shot at best, but still...

  She’d won, and this made her arrogant. Made her confident.

  “Before you do,” Chase said, choosing her words carefully, “can you tell me why? What’s going on here? What’s really going on here?”

  “I don’t owe you a thing, least of all answers,” the Camerlengo said, tossing her mace up and down in one hand. The thing had to weigh fifty pounds at least, a mass of iron and spikes and skulls. But she wielded it as if it was a feather duster.

  CHA+1

  “But we have some time to kill.” The Camerlengo’s white, white teeth flashed, crooked and ugly. “Your friends are too loyal to flee, but too spread out and cowardly for me to hunt properly. They’ll either try for you eventually, or they’ll die when Therasimalazyn comes. All I have to do is wait... and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t relish the chance to tell you just how badly you’ve screwed up. My goddess wouldn’t let me live it down, actually, if I passed up a chance to gloat over a fallen foe.”

  “Therasi...” Chase’s tongue stumbled over the o
ther unfamiliar syllables. “The dragon, I take it? So there really is one?”

  “Really is—” Zenobia stared at her wide-eyed for a second before laughing. “Oh my. You thought we’d faked it? An enormous ruse? No, no, you stupid girl. There really is one. We’re here as a favor to him, actually. He’s been a good ally in our crusade. As have most of the rest of his kind.”

  Chase closed her eyes. “No wonder they hate players. Players want to kill dragons.”

  “Oh, it’s not even that. The players only ever got the weak ones. The power that our allies can bring to bear...” Zenobia shook her head. “Even I couldn’t prevail against one, without a lot of preparation.”

  “So there is a dragon. Why burn Gnome? What purpose did that serve?”

  “We needed the Duke dead. He didn’t believe us when we told him what was coming, refused to give us the powers we needed to stave off the cataclysm.” Zenobia’s sneer turned into a scowl. “The fool thought us liars! His obstinacy would have doomed the world.”

  “You... you want to save the... you know about the dragon’s shadow?”

  “Yes.” Zenobia leaned over, her eyes boring into Chase’s. “Where is the crystal?”

  “The what—” Chase blinked.

  “You truly don’t... ah. It’s with Thomasi or Pwner then.” Zenobia straightened up. “Of course, he grabbed it and kept you ignorant. They’re all thieves and looters at heart. No matter. Now that we’ve got you, we can collect Thomasi from Barriano. And you brought us Pwner’s current whore, so she’ll lead us back to him. We’re in the endgame now, and it’s all thanks to your stupidity.”

  “That’s why the cult... why you’re trying to extort crystals from the populace.” Chase said.

  “Oh yes. Therasimalazyn burned the palace to solve the problem that was the Duke. But the rest of the city burned to drive out as many people as possible. Our divinations showed that of the remnants, someone within the city would have the crystal. Much easier to deal with a few stubborn groups of scattered survivors, than an entire city full of idiots.”

  “Hundreds dead, thousands fled, because you wanted to make your lives easier?” Chase spluttered. “How could you?”

  “The world’s at stake, girl.” The Camerlengo’s face looked down at her, stern and unforgiving. “We have been keeping the world alive for over a decade. It is by our hand alone that everything still exists. And it exists because we do what is necessary. No. Matter. What.”

  “You think you’re the good guys, here?” Chase scowled right back. “Is that what you tell yourselves?”

  Zenobia’s eyes narrowed. “No. We’re not. There are no good guys here: this isn’t a children’s book. But without us, the world ends. Tell me, what lies did Thomasi tell you? About his world? About players?”

  “That they made this world. That it was all a game, and we’re just parts of it,” Chase said.

  Zenobia blinked. “You’re at peace with the idea.”

  “Yes,” Chase said. “I don’t know the truth of it, but if he’s correct, then they made us. I’ve had a fairly good life. This world is a good one.”

  “Of course it is, you foolish girl!” The Camerlengo snapped. “It’s a good one because we took the players out of it! Because we’re policing them and imprisoning them! They don’t deserve this world! They’re greedy, corrupt, foolish twits who destroy things they should love! They should know better. They should have known better!”

  Her voice had risen to near-hysteria, and Chase pulled back as far as she could, putting her head to the floor.

  “They should have known better,” Zenobia whispered one last time, and it almost sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

  “What happened?” Chase asked. “What happened to you?”

  Zenobia took a breath, took another. She glanced around, then tilted her head and frowned. “My Scout tells me that your fox just put an illusion in the sky. It’s a giant teddy bear and a porcelain doll dancing on top of a pizza. Have your friends completely lost their minds?”

  “No,” Chase said. “They’re calling in some help. Please. Tell me. What happened to you? It... it sounds like it was personal. Did players burn down your village?”

  The woman grunted, turned her back. Gloved hands found each other, as she paced. “You did answer me honestly. Very well, I see no harm in it. One second.” She tapped a glittering earring. “Giacomo, expect company. The halven has reinforcements.”

  Then she turned and stalked over to stare down at Chase. “This story will serve you naught. It won’t help you escape your fate. Nor will it show any weakness you can use.”

  She wanted to talk about it. Her tone was eager, under the show of reluctance.

  “I do want to hear it,” Chase said. “Please.”

  CHA+1

  “Very well,” Zenobia turned back, picking up the mace from the floor again. “But know that my earlier threat holds. You are still in danger. If you use a skill or mock me here, then despite my goddess’ desires, I WILL kill you.”

  Even more eager now, despite her posturing. Chase nodded her head. “I won’t. Please tell me.”

  The light slithered over Zenobia’s spectacles as she nodded. “My father had two daughters. I never met my sister. Nor did she ever meet me. But when I learned of her, I grew to hate her. And she? She never spared me a thought. I didn’t even matter to her.”

  “Excuse me?” Chase blinked.

  “Don’t interrupt. At first it was good. My family was rich. My mother was kind. We lived in a castle, with stables full of beasts of legend, and rooms full of luxuries. But no servants, never any servants. Just me, my mother, and my father. He was a mighty warrior, you know. A Knight, I think. I don’t know what his other jobs were.” She shook her head, eyes lost in the past.

  “At first it was good,” Chase repeated. “But later?”

  “Later... Father changed. He became more distant. He had less and less time for us.” Zenobia closed her eyes. “And eventually he became cruel. Mother was the first to bear the brunt of his wrath. She would cry, when she thought no one could hear her. She tried to be nicer to him, tried to be meek and quiet and the best wife she could be. But I didn’t understand what was going on. I wanted my Father back. I wanted my parents happy again.” She stared at Chase with haunted eyes. “I didn’t know what Father was. Not then.”

  Realization dawned. “He was a player?”

  “Yes.”

  “They can... they can have children?” Chase blinked. Horrifying vistas opened up to her. “You’re a... you’re half-player? This is why you’re so strong?”

  Zenobia’s laughter bounced off the walls. “No. I have none of their powers. None of their perks, or benefits, or the other things the cowardly kings of our world gave themselves.” Her grin was feral now, devoid of joy. “Just a lonely little girl who didn’t understand that her daddy’s real life family had found out about his ‘sick’ virtual relationship. Just a stupid little girl who didn’t understand that she was just a pale shadow. That he loved his quote unquote real-life daughter more than the one he’d sired in this world. I was nothing more than a vanity pet, by his standards.”

  “Oh gods,” Chase breathed.

  “Oh yes,” Zenobia stared down at her again. “Eventually he showed up drunk, one day. He killed Mother. He burned our castle down, killed every pet he’d collected. I still remember the gryphons screaming as the stables burned. He told me the truth then, and I didn’t understand.” Her hand crept up to the silver symbol around her neck, the tiny gleaming ruler. “I prayed for help. And I got it. And Agnes told me what to do, as he beat me. I said nothing as he told me that since I’d destroyed his marriage, that I’d suffer instead. I waited until he’d almost killed me and I played dead, until he staggered off, drunk all the wine in the cellar, and fell asleep.

  “And then I went back through the ashes of the castle, found a kitchen knife, and I cut his sleeping throat.”

  Chase gasped.

  “Are you fe
eling sympathy there? Don’t,” Zenobia snapped. “If I’d been a better daughter it wouldn’t have come to that. If Mother had been a better wife, he might have truly loved us. But in the end he wasn’t happy with his dream. And I killed him for it. He was a bad father anyway. He got the daughter he deserved.” Her lips peeled back. “I only regret it happened before the sealing. I would have loved if he’d gone to their equivalent of hell by my hands.” Her mouth twisted, and she shook her head. “He died by my hand. One slash, and I went from a level one Cleric to a level thirteen Cleric. It unlocked the Assassin job. Ha! Assassination. No, I was no killer. I was just the instrument of fate that he made. I was his punishment,” she muttered. “He had it coming.”

  “He did,” Chase whispered. “I’m sorry this happened to you. But...”

  “But?” Zenobia barked. “But what? Choose your next words very, very carefully.”

  “I grew up in what anyone would call a good place. But under the surface... I know which women hid their bruises with makeup. I know which daughters moved away from home to escape their fathers’ attention. I know which parents drank until their homes fell apart and how their relatives covered it up for them. This isn’t a thing only players do. There’s evil everywhere, not just in their hearts. They’re people—”

  “They’re GODS!” Zenobia screamed. “Or close enough that it doesn’t matter. You stupid girl, they MADE this world. It is evil because they PUT it there! They could have made it a paradise, could have made everyone happy, but NO. They wanted adventure and conflict and drama and didn’t care that their child— their creations suffered! They could have made us better. They could have... made... us... better.” Her voice drifted off. Tears were glistening under her spectacles now.

  “I don’t know if they could,” Chase said.

  “Of course they could—”

  “No, listen,” Chase said, pulling against the sword, hearing more fabric tear. “Those people I told you about? In the village? The ones who beat their wives or raped their daughters or... or... or did any of a number of other things to their husbands or offspring or families? They were few. So very few. Most of them were okay. They weren’t good all the time, but when they were, it moved you to see it. They were quietly good, but sometimes they screwed up and made mistakes, but then they tried to do better. And the evil ones? The evil was rare. And even the worst of them were good sometimes.”