by Alex Bobl
"At the moment, it's irrelevant. The only way we can quit the game is by getting to Healer."
They stared at him.
"Why Healer?" Yanna asked. "What's he got to do with it?"
"Healer's real name is Robert Artov," Wayfarer said. "He's Gryad's chief programmer. He lives in the Necro Marshes — and he had the Central Portal Station installed there. So if there's still a way to quit the game, it's through him."
Beast perked up. "D'you know how to get to those Marshes?"
"I do. Can you hear the howling?"
Attila and the others tensed up and listened, turning their heads this way and that.
"One of the things the Silent Brothers can do it trigger mobs' stampedes," Wayfarer went on. "They've cleansed the valley, now they've sent them to the Sanctuary."
Attila sprang to his feet. "We need to move it, then."
"You're right," Wayfarer agreed. "We can't stay here much longer. Let's go."
Outside of the hut, the growls and the howling grew louder. Once they left the Sanctuary's divine aura, the world faded. It felt colder. Wayfarer headed for a thick cluster of shrubbery nearby. The others hurried after him.
The thicket seemed impenetrable, but once you forced your way in, you could see a narrow trail snaking through it. Judging by the sounds outside, the mobs were ramming their way toward the Sanctuary.
Beast kept casting wary glances over his shoulder as he walked. "Are you sure this Robert is online?"
"I am," Wayfarer answered. "The Central Portal is a huge programming module — or rather, its interface which is built into the game. Healer is probably busy with it now trying to restore the other portals' functions. Also, he must have a hotline to the office. He'll help us, I'm sure. But first we need to get there which, given the situation, might not be as easy as we think."
Wolves howled behind them. An ogre bellowed. A chill ran down Attila's spine. He wouldn't like to meet one of those again. Actually, the noises behind seemed to be drawing near.
Yanna touched his shoulder from behind. He stopped.
"What if he's lying?" she asked. "Just lying. And we followed him. How can we be so gullible?"
"Because we have no choice," he said in a low voice.
"But who the hell is he?"
Attila shrugged. "No idea."
"We need to find out."
"What do you suggest? Torture him? He's probably stronger than all three of us put together."
Wayfarer stopped and turned around. "So are you with me or not? You must make your choice, now."
They didn't say anything. Attila stole a sideways look at his friends. Beast clenched his beard in his fist and kept tugging at it. Yanna pursed her lips and gave a barely perceptible nod.
"We're with you," Attila summarized. "Show us the way."
He didn't even notice his own friendly tone as he addressed this mysterious man who sounded like some voice-altering software. If Healer was the game's chief programmer, did that mean that Wayfarer too was one of RussoVirt's top brass? Maybe even Sergei Bagrov himself?
Chapter Eight
The sky overhead glowed crimson. Wayfarer kept leading them further, finding his way confidently amid the trees. He avoided aberrations with practiced ease, as if he could sense them from a distance. Still, they didn't get too far. Attila's legs gave under him. His vision clouded. A bout of nausea crippled him. His ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton wool. He clung to the nearest tree, trying to stay on his feet.
He'd already felt something similar when they'd been approaching the Valley — but back then all three of them had suffered it. Now it was only him. His sensations were different, too: if before it had felt more like an acute bout of migraine, now he was weak and nauseous. He had a stich in his side, a bit like a renal colic which he'd had a few times after the car accident.
"You okay?" Yanna's voice echoed from afar. She shook his shoulder. "Can you hear me?"
A long way ahead of them, Wayfarer turned round. "Hurry up. The stampede's coming."
Attila nodded. He gulped and forced himself away from the tree. Gradually his eyesight cleared, as if someone was turning an invisible knob, adding contrast and brightness. He could already make out the trees... and his friends' outlines...
"I'm fine," he mumbled, taking a few tentative steps. "I'm coming."
Yanna looked into his face. "How long since you logged in?"
"Not too long. I sort of lost count. It's true that I didn't have a chance to eat anything for quite a while. I didn't have a proper breakfast, either."
"What kind of suit do you use?"
Attila paused. Should he tell her?
"Sensorica," he admitted.
Yanna blinked. Her jaw dropped open. Still, she quickly recovered her composure and tried to pretend it meant nothing to her. It was so annoying watching all those people lie to your face, pretending you were a healthy man like any other and not a handicapped cripple. All their fake smiles and shoulder-slapping, and then they'd avert their gaze and try to suppress the guilt in their voices as they say, "Cheer up. It's gonna be all right."
One hand on the mace behind his back, Beast cast wary glances all around. Wayfarer retraced his tracks and stood next to them without saying a word. Talk about a poker face.
"What's Sensorica?" Beast asked. "What difference does the suit type make?"
"I'm handicapped. I can't walk at all in real life," Attila forced himself to admit. "Actually, it's none of your business. Come on now. I feel much better already."
Yanna must have decided to turn everything into a joke. "Quit staring!" she attacked Beast. "I bet you have a top-of-the-range BMW suit with air conditioning, waste evacuation and all the frills!"
Beast shrank back. "No, I-"
"Let's go," Attila said. "I'm much better now."
He followed in Wayfarer's tracks. After a while, Yanna caught up with him. "What kind of food and drink did you install in the suit?"
"None. Not even a water cartridge. I thought I'd be out in a couple of hours."
"Not good. At least all these suits seem to have good ventilation-"
"All but not Sensorica," he interrupted her. "This particular model has a special sensory layer which considerably lowers its ventilation properties. I read about it on a few specialized forums. RussoVirt doesn't comment, of course, but it's true that they warn you against wearing it for more than six hours. This is a brand new model, really. They might solve the problem at a later date, but for the moment this is it."
"In that case, my professional medical advice would be for you to get the hell out of here within the next twenty-four hours. You know what I mean, don't you? A human body clad in a suit devoid of any life support and ventilation system tends to suffer dehydration and excessive perspiration."
"You can say that," Attila sighed. "From what I read on the forums, using the suit encourages dehydration. As you play, your brain activity intensifies, speeding up your metabolism. Oh, dammit."
She nodded. "Tough luck. Also, prolonged fasting can encourage internal cleansing. You know that, don't you? Which means the internal toxins will be eliminated via skin and mucous membranes. That's why those who fast regularly must wash more often, clean their tongues, that sort of thing. And have enemas. And you're lying there motionless, stuck in that badly aired suit. You're already dehydrating, poisoning yourself with your body's toxins. It's only going to get worse. This is very dangerous."
Beast overheard her. "There's no way we can make it to the Necro Marshes in twenty-four hours!" he screamed, desperate. "Are you two raving mad? That's the whole idea of the Dead Canyon! It takes ages to play, even when the distance seems short! Actually... we haven't met a single aberration yet. I wonder why?"
All three looked at Wayfarer. He walked in silence, his cloak skirts brushing against the grass.
"Is that you putting out the aberrations on our way?" Attila asked him. "Do you have some kind of cheat to do that?"
"I can't put them out," W
ayfarer replied. "Where I'm taking you, there simply aren’t any. The Dead Canyon has its own secret trails. Expect to get to Healer's place by nightfall. Don't worry, I'll take you there."
"What do you mean, by nightfall?" Beast half-protested, his voice betraying admiration. "It's impossible!"
Yanna shook her head. "Sounds too good to be true."
The thick carpet of moss and pine needles was springy underfoot. The brambles caught on Attila's jacket and sleeves, trying to stop him. The forest parted in front of them, revealing a low hill overgrown with intensely green moss. Wayfarer headed up the slope.
The hill's flattened top was formed by a crater-like hole filled with dirty water. Attila didn't like it. Then again, judging by Wayfarer's calm behavior, the place must have been safe. Past the hill, a deep ravine gaped behind the trees.
Beast stared around himself, looking confused. He pulled out his Book and began turning the crystal knobs. "Still can't open the map," he murmured. "There's nothing but interference."
They began descending. Beast lagged behind, restless. "That's not normal! I've been here before!" he insisted. "This hill wasn't here! Wayfarer, listen... hey you all, wait for me!"
He ran past Yanna and Attila down the slope and caught up with Wayfarer. "What's all this about secret trails? I don't remember this hill being here! Why are we going this way? Don't we need to go over there instead?" he waved to his right. "I haven't lost my sense of direction yet! The Necro Marshes are there! That's where Healer lives! So why are we-"
They walked over to the ravine. Wayfarer turned, intending to skirt it. Beast stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the opposite bank. There, a conical stone hut with a round wooden door peeked out of the undergrowth. It was topped with the familiar holographic icon of a rotating blue diamond.
"We've got to check that out!" Beast lunged toward the hut. "Wait! It might be working!"
Wayfarer stopped. "It doesn't. Just a waste of time."
But Beast was already running down the steep slope. "I won't be a minute!"
He didn't reach the hut. Pressing his hands to his temples, Beast collapsed on the grassy bottom of the ravine.
A red-hot needle seemed to have pierced Attila's head. He dropped to his knees in agony, his mouth opened in a silent scream. Yanna groaned.
This was nothing like the bout of weakness he'd suffered earlier in the woods. This was totally different. The problem this time wasn't his body left on the couch in his room: it was his own avatar suffering.
The pain subsided as unexpectedly as it had come, leaving him as weak as a kitten. Frowning and rubbing his forehead, Attila stood up. His ears rang; his hands were shaking. Yanna sat on the ground, massaging her temples. Wayfarer stood nearby, looking perfectly fine. Why hadn't he felt what they all had?
Beast, too, scrambled back to his feet. The portal station's round door creaked open. A player sprang out, wearing the yellow and brown gear of the Forest Vagabonds. He had a strung crossbow in his hands. The ravine's opposite slope was much steeper which allowed the player to stand right above Beast, aiming at his head. At that range, there was no way he could miss. Another crossbowman appeared from behind an oak tree that was rising beyond the ravine.
Wayfarer reached under his cloak, then shot out his hand in front of him. Something glistened across the ravine, leaving a streak of gray mist in its wake and hitting the first player in the chest. He recoiled just as he fired the bolt. Beast ducked. The bolt flew over his head, clattered against his helmet, then embedded itself into the slope opposite.
Snap, snap, snap, Yanna's arrows peppered the other man by the oak tree.
The space around them blinked with interference. The air thickened and stuck in their throats. Then everything was gone, replaced by a feeling of lightness.
When Attila stood up, the first player had already tumbled to the bottom of the ravine, swathed in a translucent cocoon. The Shroud! This was a complex artifact that demanded Alchemy of at least 60 if you wanted to painstakingly create it by combining two others.
The second player lay sprawled out by the oak tree, pinned down by four arrows, one of which had pierced his face. Yanna lowered her bow. Below, Beast was shuddering so badly he was barely able to keep his mace in his hands.
"They... they could kill me for real, don't you understand?" he slung his mace behind his back and ran his hands along his body. "We always knew that you couldn't kill anyone, it's only a game. But they... I'd have really died, wouldn't I? But they're the Vagabonds! Normally they don't mean harm to anyone! Why did they attack me?" he paused, then added in a quiet voice, "Does that mean we've killed them? For real? They're dead now? Oh..."
He fell silent. Attila and Yanna climbed down into the ravine. Slowly Attila walked around the cocoon. Its translucent sheet revealed the player's face distorted by agony. The Shroud didn't just immobilize you: the cocoon would then shrink around you, crushing your ribs. The guy inside was already dead. Attila could make out the bits of his broken crossbow stuck in the lower part of the cocoon.
Leaves rustled under Wayfarer's feet. He walked past them, reaching into his bag for his own Book. Attila had never seen anything like it. Wayfarer's Book was small and black, surging with flashes of crimson. A bit like a mini-portal leading into some weird and wondrous place. Wayfarer opened it and walked inside the hut, his broad back shielding the round doorway.
"Are they both dead?" Yanna asked in a sunken voice.
"You bet," Beast answered.
"No, but maybe the other one-" she hurried up the slope. Attila and Beast exchanged glances. The attacker by their feet had been cocooned by Wayfarer, but the one on top was Yanna's doing. And if what they'd heard was really true, if death in game now meant death in real life, then...
They heard her cry out overhead. Then she came back slowly, slipping down the steep slope, until she lost her footing and very nearly collapsed in a heap at their feet. Attila caught her. Yanna didn't push him away. She grabbed his hand and stepped toward him.
"I didn't mean it!" she whispered. "You understand? Both of you, do you understand? I did it instinctively! I always did... that's what games are about... you kill mobs and all sorts of things... and people too if they're the enemy... Everybody does it!"
"They'd have killed us instead," Attila said. "They'd have shot us from their crossbows. You did the right thing... I think."
"Would you have done it? If you'd been the one with the bow?"
Attila shook his head. "I dunno. But he was going to shoot us."
Beast climbed up the slope. "This one has only two bolts," they heard his voice. "Do you want his crossbow? I don't need it."
"I don't, either," Attila said.
Wayfarer walked out of the hut, still holding the Book in his hands. He began climbing down, his face impassive as usual.
"We've just killed two people," Attila said just to throw him off. "For real."
Wayfarer didn't show any reaction. "Let's go," he dropped. He climbed out of the ravine and continued on his way around it.
"Why did they attack us?" Beast spoke as they followed him. "Can someone tell me?"
"I can't," Yanna's voice sounded empty. "They saw me, too. Elves are normally good friends with Forest Vagabonds."
She glanced at Attila who walked in pensive silence. "Penny for your thoughts."
He shook his head. "Sorry. Can't think of anything. And still this attack doesn't feel right. First we had a mother of all headaches and then they arrived. Do you remember we've already had something similar once? Just before the Silent Brothers arrived?"
Yanna nodded. Both she and Beast looked puzzled. Attila glanced at Wayfarer still tinkering with his book. The man must know much more than he was letting on. Why had he saved them? Why was he taking them to Healer's place? Somehow he didn't look like a good Samaritan. He had to be in it for something, but what could that be? It wasn't for nothing Wayfarer avoided giving answers to their questions. He had a lot to hide. Attila could only hope that he
found out a bit more about the situation once they arrived.
They carried on walking, following some truly crazy route. They soon left the ravine and delved into a gloomy area of wind-fallen forest followed by an open woodland, then entered another thicket. Attila had long given up trying to mark their way. Sometimes he got the impression that Wayfarer was leading them round in circles, purposefully confusing them. But at least they couldn't hear the blind wolves howling any more. They had left the stampede far behind.
They were tired. Even Beast stopped bothering them with questions. Yanna ceased to argue with him over every little thing: she just kept plodding along. After killing the Vagabond player, she had grown quieter — more compassionate even.
Oak trees had replaced the pine wood. A hilly open area lay beyond them with gnarly trees growing on top and bulrushes swaying at the bottom. The tree trunks were black, almost scorched. It was getting dark. Shadows lurked in the undergrowth. The trees creaked menacingly. An owl hooted. Wild pigs snorted in the woods.
The horizon over where the Citadel stood was bathed in darkness. A wind rose; it started to rain. The cold raindrops rolling down Attila's neck and shoulder blades felt more than real. He huddled up, envying Wayfarer's cloak with its hood. You could brave any kind of weather with one of those! Beast wasn't doing too badly, either, with his steel helmet. Yanna and himself were the only ones suffering.
He thought about the Eye. Now that they were out in the open, he really should check it. Attila reached for the Book and began fiddling with the knobs. The Eye stirred in his bag. Attila opened it, letting the steel star out.
It clicked its arms open and soared into the sky. So it was working, after all! Attila slammed the goggles on and adjusted the picture: the view of the hills and rare trees from above. There was Beast, staring upwards, and Yanna too, waving her hand at the cheat. Good. She seemed to have thawed out a bit. Only Wayfarer kept marching on, apparently ignoring the Eye.
Attila removed the goggles to wipe them clean. Beast slammed himself on the forehead, "That's where I screwed up! Now I know how you smelled the rat in the tavern! While I was, like, busy with the 'bank transfer'," he flung the air quotes around the word, "you saw our group moving in outside, right?"
