by J. R. Ford
Flailing was futile — a foot had gotten wedged beneath a lotus root. Damn! I tried pushing myself up, but the roots beneath my hand twisted and looped and then my hand was being dragged into the mud. I nearly screamed but kept enough wits to not open my mouth underwater.
Damn, damn! I tried to collect my thoughts, but panic’s noose had encircled my throat. Another root had lassoed my other foot. My dagger found my handcuff and began sawing, the motion slow beneath the water. The silt burned my eyes, but I kept them open. My heart hammered with desperation.
A root snaked for my dagger, forcing me to retract it before it too was pinned. But my three other limbs were being dragged into the mud, my lower half now under. More roots tangled around me, constricting like terror.
Three pings rang out as I nullified momentum, but my wrist was held tight, and I only nullified harmless mud. I was trapped.
My lungs were fire, hot enough to make me long for the icy chill of drowning waters. Pressure on my wrist twisted me supine, looking up at the dim red light of the cavern. I reached up for it.
The mud enveloped all but my neck and dagger arm. Something pressed against my bound right hand, cold and stiff.
It was a human hand. The thought washed over me, cold as the water, cold as that corpse’s fingers: I was going to die here.
I cried out uncontrollably, my last precious air leaving in a stream of bubbles. I didn’t want to die.
Something rose into my field of view: one of the massive flowers, demonic red petals unfurling as it floated above my face. They made a spiky crown around the yellow stamens, little feelers wriggling in the water. It leaned down.
The petals clamped down around my face. The tentacle-like stamens tickled my face with a disturbing softness.
My heart slowed. This was it, the pool I drowned in, this mud my grave. But my fear had fled. Even the cadaverous hand seemed less disturbing, and more like kin.
Someone splashed down beside me, but all save my face and arm were in the mud now. My left arm went limp. I couldn’t reach the fading light that backlit the smothering petals such a pretty shade of red.
I don’t know why, but that light reminded me of Heather. It seemed fitting for me to die here, shielded from her grace by dark and earth. Sadness washed over me. I didn’t want to die…but I was too tired to hope for anything beyond sleep’s sweet relief.
Everything seemed slower underwater, including the hand pulling the flower from my face. Heather’s visage shone above me, her hair trapping the cavern light into a sunlike halo. The refraction distorted her features, making her seem otherworldly, ethereal. Her hands dug at the mud, and I felt weapons chipping at the roots binding me.
I was too tired to hope. There was no air left in me. At least my last image would be of her.
But before I could forfeit myself to the dirt, Heather hauled me up out of the earth and water. I heaved massive lungfuls of damp cavern air.
Only after a few seconds did I notice the clamor of my friends. All of them wore concerned expressions.
I had expected to feel elation at my survival, at being blessed with more time with Heather. But all I felt was tired.
Heather helped me rise as Ana finished slicing the roots holding my feet with her boot knife. “Come on!” Ana shouted over the noise of the waterfall. “Those things are still hungry!”
“I can tell!” Heather said. “Get them off me!”
Vines wrapped her legs. A suitable reward for helping me. Ana started slashing, and Heather tore them from her flesh with one hand while she dragged me along with the other.
This pond was even more choked with giant lotuses than the one above. Ana and Farrukh hot-footed it across, never letting their feet stay still long enough to be wrapped. I ploughed after Heather, stumbling on gnarled roots.
Heather whipped a few symbols and touched the water ahead of her. A five-foot square turned to stone and sank slightly. I clambered up and ahead to where Heather had formed a second block. From there, it was only a couple watery steps, which was fortunate, because those were all I had left in me.
I collapsed on the far bank, curling into a fetal position so the roots couldn’t grab my feet. My companions dragged me further from the pool.
Heather caressed my back. “Are you okay?”
I hadn’t expected the question to be so difficult, but my mind was sluggish. “Okay,” I slurred.
“You made it out,” she cooed. “You survived.”
“He’s just out of breath,” Ana said, pouring water out of her boots.
Farrukh was hyperventilating again. “He’s been poisoned. Pav, what happened down there?”
“I found someone,” I muttered.
My companions blanched, but Farrukh dogged the track. “Did the plant do anything to you?”
“It kissed me,” I said.
Farrukh rolled me onto my back, took an arrow, and brushed my face with some fletching. “You got something on your face. You weren’t close to that mushroom thing — must be pollen from the flower.”
“You think it was using Pav to spread its pollen?” Ana asked, incredulous.
Farrukh shook his head. “I think it was trying to eat him. That pollen must’ve made him drowsy, so he wouldn’t resist.”
The cogs of my mind turned one click. “Ana,” I said. “The mushroom spores.”
She looked stricken. “I’ll be fine.” She had already almost been turned into a slug once. Would she now transform into a mushroom zombie?
Heather had followed the same trail. “Whatever it did to you, Pav and I can undo.”
I nodded, then clawed to my feet. I immediately wanted to lie down again, and I couldn’t tell if it was the pollen or just me. “Let’s,” I said, because I couldn’t be bothered to say “go.” I stumbled forward.
Ana led us along Ha-Jun’s directions. Mushrooms made a plush carpet on a branching path. I wondered if they’d turn us into zombies as punishment for trampling them. Farrukh kept an arrow on string, and Heather stayed near him with canteen ready.
With only one lantern, the shadows were deeper. No point trying to watch out for monsters. Either my companions would spot the ambush, or they wouldn’t.
Good thing I’d fallen into companionship with competent adventurers. “There!” Ana called.
Another apprentice zombie had lumbered out from around a bend in a side passage. I should’ve been concerned, but it didn’t seem like it would help. Like the other zombie, and the body in the mud, it was just another mortal reminder. Time and nature nibbled at us all, until we were mere nutrients, devoid of humanity.
Heather whipped water onto the arrowhead and flicked it aflame. The shot was good, fire engulfing the fungus layer on the zombie’s skin, then spreading to robe and decayed flesh. It collapsed to its knees, then flopped forward.
The fungus carpet caught. “Heather!” Ana said, and Heather approached the rapidly spreading fire with finger outstretched. Some flames hissed into steam, but not enough.
“Out of mana!” she cried. “Run!” We outpaced the flames, even with my stumbling gait, Heather’s insistent grip keeping me moving. Farrukh kept another arrow nocked.
We careened around a corner into another cavern, this one carpeted by ferns, the convergence of many paths. Two yellow-robed apprentices waited for us.
One of them screamed, and Farrukh’s arrow tore clean through her stomach. The other one attacked without hesitation, her curved sword slicing hard, but Ana parried the blow and countered. The Enlightened scrambled away, tripped, and fell on her back. Within a moment, Ana’s Lightning Blade was at her neck. It was unsteady. Had those spores done a worse number on Ana than she’d indicated?
Farrukh clamped down a hand over the screaming one’s mouth and drew his machete. “Stop screaming!” he shouted, to no avail. She struggled and rolled, so he planted a knee on her chest. He looked at Ana.
She barely spared him a glance. “Lost your spine? You didn’t shy from butchery on the streets of Bluehearth
.”
“We didn’t have time then.” The flames had sputtered to embers when the mushrooms had run out. He looked down at the captive.
“We tried sparing some Enlightened once. We killed them a couple of days later, when they came for revenge, with backup.”
“If you don’t have a problem with it.” Farrukh looked into the wide eyes of the woman beneath him. “You heard her. Time to log out. Salaam.”
The other Enlightened said, “Stop,” not loudly, but decisively enough that Farrukh hesitated. “You want to know what Edwin’s up to? Let us live, and I’ll tell you.” She looked Asian but didn’t have an accent — that is, had an American accent, I guessed.
Ana loomed over her. “You’ll tell us anyway.”
“Or what?”
A shadow crossed Ana’s face. “If we let you go, you’ll just go back to Edwin.”
“I won’t, I swear. He’s done nothing to earn our loyalty. Linsey will swear it too, if you let her.”
The blonde girl bleeding beneath Farrukh nodded frantically.
“We’ve had Enlightened promise to stay away before,” Ana said.
I remembered my rapier sinking into Guilherme’s chest, the flash of the Lightning Blade slicing Kim down.
The fire seemed to have burned away some of my drowsiness. My mind was still ticking a second slow, but I could articulate sentences. “We shouldn’t punish these two for Guilherme and Kim’s mistakes.”
“They nearly killed us!” Ana said harshly.
“They were too loyal for their own good. Let’s at least hear what these two have to say for themselves. What’s your name?” I asked the Asian-American whose neck was an inch away from Ana’s point.
“You can call me Troy.” She had straight black hair and a tan like a farmer.
We introduced ourselves. Troy’s gaze lingered on Heather. “You’re Heather?”
“And?” Heather asked.
Troy shook her head. “You’re kind of famous. I don’t know what actually happened between you and Edwin, but to piss him off that badly, it must’ve been impressive.”
“Oh,” Heather said.
“Enough flattery,” I said. “We all know how amazing Heather is. Now, what’s Edwin up to?”
“I want your word that you’ll release us,” she insisted.
“Make us want to,” Ana said. “Why are you so ready to abandon him?”
“First it was the curfew. Yao painted the new guild hall with those green symbols, and it gives him a notification whenever anyone enters or leaves. We had to be back by twelve, every night. It wasn’t so bad. We spent most evenings together anyway.
“It got worse when the newbies spawned. Most of us in the guild were just looking for a steady wage, maybe some spells eventually. But a lot of the newbies who joined up were bullies and thugs.”
“Not surprising,” Heather said. “Newbies will have seen the streams and know what kind of game Edwin’s playing.”
“I wish we’d had the chance. The guild got a whole lot meaner when they joined. They bought into the system, the rotas, the collective punishments…”
“Collective punishments?” Heather asked.
“I’ll get there. Edwin started taxing us. He would send us in parties into the sewers, or these caverns, and whatever we’d find we’d give back to him. We were used to forfeiting spells and magic items — our time in the rota would come soon enough. But then he started taking everything we found. Weapons, armor, gold. There are rotas for everything.” She cringed. “If he found out someone was holding out on him, they’d be docked on the rotas. And when he caught some apprentices trying to run away with loot, he blasted them.”
I’d only skimmed the End-User License Agreement before entering the game, but it had made explicit that players who enacted torture or sexual violence would be kicked immediately and would not receive their winnings. If the victim had logged off to escape such a situation, they would be allowed to return. I shuddered to think what Edwin might try otherwise, especially if he suspected his apprentices of harboring loot.
“Why didn’t you leave?” Heather sounded horrified. “It’s a huge game! The newbies in White Fir have never heard the name Edwin Casper.”
“One of my friends ran away, and we got docked for it. Losing our spots on the allowance rota was the worst — we had to beg for food! We can’t do that to our friends.”
I didn’t want to hear more. “Yeah, okay. We believe you.”
Heather said, “You can get out that way. Look for symbols on the walls.” None of us objected. These girls had been Edwin’s victims as thoroughly as she had.
Farrukh took his hand off Linsey’s mouth and made to administer first aid. She was breathing heavily but kept quiet.
“For 10 gold, I can brew you a Health Potion,” Farrukh offered. It was our rate for a potion from scratch — 5 gold to the party purse for the ingredients, and the other 5 to him for the cantrip.
“We’re kind of broke,” Troy said. “No chance we could get one for free?”
“I’m fine giving you the ingredients,” Heather said. We all looked at Farrukh. The cantrip was his to sell.
He considered her for a moment before shaking his head. “No points in giving things away. Better to save it in case one of us needs it. We don’t have unlimited supplies.”
Ana frowned at him. “Should’ve expected that from our resident merc.”
Heather said, “We’ll loan them the gold. Right, Ana?”
Now Ana frowned at her. “That’s not a very sound loan.” But Heather’s gaze burned her until she said, “Okay, I guess they need it.”
I nodded. They’d gone through enough, and Linsey might need that potion to live.
Farrukh said, “I think we have better things to spend the party gold on. But I don’t mind having that money in my pocket instead.”
Ana told the now-deserters, “We’ll invest 7 gold into you — 5 for Farrukh to cast brew Health Potion, and 2 for food and lodging. In return, we’ll take ten percent of any quest gold you collect until you pay us back. You could run off with the money, I guess, but then we wouldn’t be able to help you again if you got injured.”
Troy nodded, though she looked confused by the equity scheme. Bat organs squelched. Ana gave 5 gold to Farrukh.
“So, what can you tell us about Edwin’s activities?” I asked.
“He’s challenging the Recycler,” Troy stammered. “We were just meant to keep watch, make sure no monsters interrupted the fight.”
“Where is he?”
“Go down that passage,” she said, pointing. “Take the first right.”
“Thanks,” Heather said. “We’re sorry. About everything.”
I tried to think ahead. “If we see any Enlightened, we’ll imply that we killed you. Keep your streams off for a couple days. Edwin seems the type to check once then forget about you.” On the leaderboard, every player had a red dot next to their name if they were alive and streaming. Their rank wouldn’t disappear upon death. “On that note, put your full names down, so we’ll be able to look you up.” I handed over my friends list. Troy filled their names in.
“Head west to a town called White Fir,” Ana said. “Or, if you’d rather get back at Edwin, there’s a group of rebels in Bluehearth who’ll take you in.”
“Not anymore there isn’t,” Troy said.
Her words made my stomach knot. I snatched my friends list back, and we all tapped into the menus, to the leaderboard, to search.
None of the rebels had the red dot next to their name.
Ana set a fast pace through the fields of ferns. We hastened to keep up with her long legs. Soon the path forked.
“This is our chance,” Heather said. “Edwin will be distracted by whatever the Recycler is. One good shot could end him.” Her hands were white knuckled on her spear.
Ana and Farrukh shared a glance. “We have to get to the rebels,” Ana began, but Heather cut her off.
“They’re gone! Dead! And E
dwin’s almost certainly stationed apprentices at their base. We could run headlong into a trap, or we can end this once and for all.”
“They might’ve had other reasons for turning their streams off, and if so, they need us,” Ana said, and Farrukh nodded.
“You heard what Edwin is doing! He needs to die! When he treated me like that, you swore to find me the power to protect myself. It’s time for me to use it to protect others.” She turned down the right fork.
She was picking up Ana’s bad habits. I grabbed her wrist. “What are you going to do?” I asked. “Jump in there and go straight for him? You’re not invincible! No way will you make it out alive!” I knew I was belittling her, but she needed to hear it.
She jerked away. “Then I’ll take him with me.”
I followed her. “Hypocrite! You’d leave me?”
She stopped, hands at her sides, her entire body shaking.
“If you’re still going in there, I’m going with you. We’ll go down together.”
She whirled. “No. You promised.”
I had, and I’d meant it. But that had been then, and time erodes even meant words. “I don’t care.”
Farrukh shouldered past us. “Stop being melodramatic. I’ll see if I can get a clean shot.”
Heather and I followed him silently. We both knew how little words were worth.
The passage opened into a high-ceilinged cavern smothered in plants and fungus. The cavern sloped down into a veritable forest of fungi, some as tall as fifteen feet. It was dwarfed by a golem of intertwined giant lotuses that writhed as it tried to snatch apprentices. The Recycler. A thick fog veiled the forest floor but didn’t obscure the shouts. Fidgeting Enlightened ringed the basin.
As I watched, a muted flash of lightning shone from the depths. The lotus amalgam reeled, scorched and smoking, but other limbs maintained their assault. Beneath vines withered by heat, dirty white bones showed, the core of the golem.
One of the arms swept up an apprentice. Her screams were shrill, not pain but panic, as the lotuses snaked around her, entombing her, until one root looped around her mouth and gagged her. A crown brushed her face, and she went limp. Within seconds, I couldn’t even spot yellow through the flower casket.
