by K. T. Hanna
“What is it?” Telvar tried to temper his impatience. But it was difficult. Ever since he’d consumed that huge getashi, his emotional stability and his ability to perform complex tasks were becoming laborious. He needed to renew his focus, to regain some of his original programing, but he found that he was scared. He feared reverting back to what he’d been originally. It had taken him so many years to get to this point, and he couldn’t risk quitting now.
“You wanted to know if we detected Belius.” Hiro’s voice was quiet, and Telvar spun around to see that his friend was standing opposite him on the other side of the desk.
“Well?” Telvar didn’t answer or even dignify Hiro’s statement with any response. He just wanted the information.
Hiro hesitated before speaking, and Tel knew it meant his friend wasn’t entirely certain, but was instead highly suspicious. “Sidius has been spotted out in Brevint, and Verendus. He’s been meeting with other assassin guild masters, which is highly out of character for the way that Sidius was originally intended. It’s also the form that I believe Jirald was first approached with. I think he’s trying to keep a low profile and is likely using the persona to cause trouble.”
“Of course he is.” Telvar wasn’t even surprised anymore. He knew Sui had occasionally used Sidius, but he hadn’t realized how often it occurred. “If this is the way he gave Jirald the getashi quest, then we need to keep a closer eye on him. There’s a chance it’s not him, but that instead he’s given this NPC a lease on some of his own powers, which is why we trace Belius to him. Although, I won’t hold my breath that it’s that simple.”
Hiro nodded and then hesitated once more. It was odd seeing the other lacerta act that way. Telvar hadn’t known him to ever hesitate before this whole debacle happened. He managed to push aside his own growing irritation to ask what was wrong. “Come on. Out with it.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Hiro asked, concern obvious in his tone. “Staring out the window is one thing. That view, while generated just like us, is quite breathtaking. But you didn’t even notice I was there for about five minutes before you turned around. Don’t deny it. I know you well enough to know when you’re just pretending not to have noticed me.”
Telvar blinked slowly, replaying the last few minutes in his head. What had the getashi done to him? Why couldn’t he remember what he’d been doing standing and watching the water? Worse yet, why on earth was he drawing a blank? Belius’s interference this time had gone too far. Telvar wasn’t sure what he would do when he found him, but he’d make sure it wasn’t pretty.
Murmur finished setting up the groups as the other two guilds waited in silence. She wasn’t dealing too well with the number of glares directed at her. Holding her temper was taking a lot more effort than she liked to admit. She could feel Jirald’s slimy gaze following her no matter how she moved. Despite the fact that he wore a hood to conceal his face, she knew he was watching.
“There, that should do it.” She glanced at the raid, relieved to find that a thirty-strong raid looked substantial enough. All of them were forty-eight. She was a sliver away from forty-nine, and she knew Devlish, Havoc, and Veranol wouldn’t be far behind her. They needed those levels, that power.
Masha stood to her left and Risk on her right. She felt comfortable with Masha there, and Snowy had moved to her right-hand side as if he didn’t trust Spiral’s dreadknight.
“So we’re using your main tank then?” Risk sounded gruff, as if he was offended she hadn’t thought to ask him to do the tanking. In all honesty, she had no idea how capable or not he was. She knew Devlish’s skills, Rashlyn’s tenacity, and Esolan’s steadfastness. Those were things she could count on from this and other games. Not to mention that because of Neva’s recruitment work, she knew that Fable’s crafters had given their guild the best outfitting possible. Gear mattered when it came to most things, especially taking hits.
“Dev is about to hit forty-nine. His gear is all at level forty-eight minimum. I have a feeling we’ll need all the advantages we can get once we’re in there.” She eyed Risk up and down, looking at his mismatched gear. He had to be wearing it that way to get the best pieces regardless of appearance. If she didn’t have Neva, she’d have done the same thing, appearance be damned.
Risk eyed her, like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. “I understand. Thanks for approaching us for this. Should be fun.”
There was a gleam to his eye that Murmur wasn’t sure she liked, and she made a mental note to herself to keep an eye on this new guild. Means to an end, that’s what all of this would be.
The entire raid stood assembled into their groups, and she could still feel Jirald’s eyes on her. Twisting a strand of her hair while Tiachi chittered at her, Murmur suppressed a sigh as best she could.
“I have my eye on him too. Sorry.” Masha’s voice was soft, as if he didn’t want his words to carry to his guild mate. “If he wasn’t the best DPS Exodus had to offer, I wouldn’t have brought him with us.”
Murmur nodded. “I know. He’s never not been a good player. He’s just got a chip on his shoulder the size of the Pacific Ocean.”
Masha chuckled, but it sounded a bit forced, or perhaps tired. “You make a good point. Still, I’m a bit worried about him. Something’s been off about him for the past few days.”
“More off, you mean?” Sinister spoke up, suddenly there by Murmur’s side as if she’d appeared out of nothing.
“Yeah. More off,” Masha conceded, looking sheepish.
“Enough. We’ve all got our eyes peeled. We can do this. We will do this.” Because she couldn’t help thinking how much Somnia depended on them accomplishing the rest of the puzzles. Even if she didn’t entirely understand why that need was there.
Thank you.
For what? Murmur shot back.
Caring.
Murmur shrugged, trying to make it into a shoulder roll so others wouldn’t think she was talking to herself. I care because I can see how this world has changed and how disrupting its evolution is probably not a good idea.
I know.
Then let me do my job, Murmur quipped in her head. For a moment, the heaviness that was Somnia’s presence still lingered in her mind, and then it was gone. Murmur focused on the rest of the raid so she didn’t think about the sudden emptiness and the waft of cold that followed it.
She broadcast her voice so that the whole raid could hear it. Used to communicating only through guild chat, or just talking because her friends were close, she initially felt slightly self-conscious when she began to speak, but it slowly wore away.
“We might do things a little differently. Fable does not just run into a dungeon and begin killing. We assess what the dungeon is meant to be for us, and we follow that path. Sometimes that involves massacring everything within a five-mile radius, sometimes that involves solving puzzles that trigger a trap when we get them wrong. Do not take it upon yourselves to charge into anything. We will take what the dungeon throws at us and work it out in the best possible way for everyone.”
Murmur was proud that her voice didn’t shake. She glanced out at everyone, all of the eyes focused on her made her want to shrink back, but she couldn’t do that. She had to be strong.
The only outright hostile spot in her entire sensing net was Jirald. The rest of the raid held interest, curiosity, and excitement. She’d worry about those twenty-nine people, and just make sure she watched her back.
“Loot will be distributed based on a council of the leaders.” Risk’s voice rung out, clear and confident. Murmur envied him. He didn’t have the whole world on his mind after all, but she did feel like they had to correct that misconception. Before she could speak, Veranol did instead.
“If necessary. Fable has encountered dungeons where each raid member receives a chest.” His voice was smooth and not condescending. Even though Risk cast the shaman a withering lo
ok, Veranol didn’t let that effect him.
“Healers have been invited to the healing chat—keep an eye on your notifications. Veranol and I will coordinate the healing.” Masha smiled out at everyone, and Murmur could feel the wave of calm that settled over the group. He had such an affable personality. She was glad he was mostly on her side.
“Don’t stand in shit,” Murmur admonished. “Don’t break Mez. Assist either Rashlyn or Esolan. They will be focusing on the current targets. Make sure you listen to directions. In some cases, Devlish’s target will not be the one you have to attack.”
She could feel the mild resentment from old school raiders, and she was fully aware that the majority of them knew what to do in a raid, just like her own guild, but she felt better for having said the words out loud. Because then no one could say they didn’t know.
“We ready then?” Devlish called out, raising his fist in the air with his axe as he pumped it high.
The answering shout was more boisterous than she’d expected, and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her face, even if it was tempered by the cold sweat that kept breaking out every time Jirald’s heavy presence made itself known.
Murmur stepped forward to stand just behind Devlish. He grinned at her and winked, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “You ready for this, Mur?”
“Not really,” she admitted, because she wasn’t. They had no idea what was beyond these doors. They only knew what they’d seen, what had guarded this place. Excitement rippled through her, a thirst to destroy everything in her path that might harm her friends or Somnia. “But I want to do it anyway.”
Devlish raised his axe and knocked three times on the sleek and tall doors. It rang throughout the antechamber like a huge gong had been rung. The sound reverberated in her ears, leaving a tone behind that was very close to tinnitus.
Slowly, as if they were steeped in molasses, the doors began to swing inward.
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices
Late Day Twenty-Five
Laria let her head fall forward onto her arms. She couldn’t even remember what day it was, let alone the time. She’d watched as Murmur and her alliance of guilds approached Vahrir. Sui was the AI in charge of that particular dungeon, and she couldn’t help but worry that he wasn’t done with her daughter yet. Sui seemed dangerous now.
Everything did.
She was tired and needed to desperately catch up on some sleep, but she was so on edge that she knew all she’d do was toss and turn. If she didn’t bury herself in code to try and fix the backlash in the system, Laria knew she’d end up down a rabbit hole of self-recrimination about her daughter’s predicament.
Shayla had ducked downstairs to wrestle some food from the small restaurant on the ground floor. Laria wasn’t even sure her system would remember how to digest the stuff. It felt like it had been an age since she’d eaten.
“All alone?”
Laria forced herself not to jump at the sound of his voice. Instead, she took in a deep breath and let it out evenly. Getting her riled up and scaring her were the two things that James loved to do, and she refused to give him that much power over her ever again. He seemed to count on making the subjects of his conversations squirm as much as he could. Laria had learned this the hard way. And frankly, right then, she was too tired to care.
“Temporarily. There’s always the security system to keep me company.” She gestured around the room to the empty air, her vagueness deliberate. “Always watching. You do know how big brother is.”
She could see James’s reflection in the glass of the office walls, the uncertainty that flit across his face when she suggested he was always being watched. Fantastic. He was paranoid as well. Not turning to face him had been a good choice. “What do you want?”
James seemed to snap back to reality, but Laria still didn’t bother turning around. If he was going to come here and try to intimidate her when she was alone, then he could do it to her back. There was no way she’d play into his hands, or play his games. She had too much to do, and right then he was interrupting her only recent quiet time.
“I wanted to see if you’ve got those reports ready to go for me.” His tone was smug now, and Laria had to stop herself from laughing.
“I do have reports. You’re welcome to them if you’d like. They’re the same ones that Davenport gets. You know, no fudged numbers, no false information. Exactly like the actual information that should be found in reports.” She was mumbling by now, the tiredness fighting with her eyes and her brain.
“I have access to reports too. You should be careful about that.” His voice seemed closer, and Laria willed herself not to tense up, not to give him the satisfaction. Any movement on her behalf could be perceived in myriad ways by him. He wasn’t stable, as much as he loved to pretend he was.
“James. It’s my dinner break. Unless you have something of dire importance, get out of my office before I have security come and kick you out.” She was using a bit of bravado to cover her fear. James was stronger than her and more devious. Kicking him in the balls probably wouldn’t work. “Like they did the last time.”
“Laria!” Shayla sounded breathless as she stood at the door to Laria’s office. “I brought you chicken tikka masala. Good?”
Laria sat up, blinking her eyes and turned toward her friend. “That’s fantastic. We’re going to have a long night ahead of us if we want to watch them world first that dungeon.”
In bringing her food, Shayla had completely ignored James, and she continued to do so while she and Laria ate. “Did they enter yet?”
“About five minutes ago. I think they’re buffing and whatnot. I need to tune back in,” Laria said around a mouthful of food. The spice was just right, not too hot, but hugely tasty. It was all that helped her not accidentally give away that they were also watching for glitches.
“What you need to do is sleep,” Shayla chided gently.
James cleared his throat. “And what you both need to do is pay attention to me.”
“Why?” Laria said around a particularly large chunk of chicken.
James looked taken aback. As if he hadn’t been expecting that question. “Well, you need to get me your data. We will have a court order for it in the next few days, so you may as well give it to me now.”
“You think so?” Laria’s words were barely audible around her food, but she was beyond caring. “Have you approached Davenport for the information yet?”
The thunderous look on James’s face answered the question all too well. If Davenport was denying him any access to information, then there had to be a good and valid reason.
Laria looked at Shayla, who shrugged and so she continued. “You know what? You should just get away from here, go get that court order thing. I have a raid to watch and popcorn to eat, and I refuse to share my snacks with you.”
James laughed. “You two are so childish. Eventually, I’m going to get what I want. Mark my words.”
He turned on his heel and stomped out.
“Not today, Satan,” Laria muttered around another mouthful.
Shayla began to cough, with tears of laughter streaming down her face. It was good to laugh before they had to seriously monitor the stability of the game world while her daughter and friends were inside it with tweaked headsets that allowed Somnia a direct connection with them.
Easy, really.
There was chittering in the darkness in front of them. It drifted out on a breeze from seemingly nowhere, letting the noises create goosebumps all down Murmur’s spine. Devlish stepped in, followed closely by Mur and Snowy. Sinister’s hand lingered by the enchanter’s elbow, lending a sense of belonging, of presence. The aura from the bloodmage had changed subtly since the incident with Telvar, and Murmur appreciated the solidity it lent to…well, everythi
ng.
No opponents appeared before them as the rest of the raid began filing in, but the darkness was interrupted by sconces on the walls. More of them lit up with every step that Devlish took, slowly illuminating the entire chamber with dull amber light.
The floor appeared to be made out of gold, with red filigree around the edges. Murmur felt uneasy as they entered, waiting for the penny to drop. There was something alarming about the massive room. It made her sensing net feel like she was in the middle of a giant web, and she really didn’t want to move far enough in to see the end of it. Something told her she wasn’t going to like it.
As the last of their group entered the chamber, the doors swung closed, triggering the last of the sconces to light up. Murmur looked around, the huge hall. Red and gold adorned every surface, and a dais rose up in the middle with stairs all the way around it. In the far back two corners were two large doorways with only blackness beyond.
The chittering grew louder, and Murmur could hear Merlin gulp audibly behind her.
“Mur.” She could hear the mild panic in his voice. “Those Ciricians?”
“Yes,” she answered, impatience already eating at her as she scanned the room with her abilities, still unable to see the threat she knew was there. All she could be thankful for was the fact that they were all gathered relatively close to the entry still. If they’d already been spread out, they would have pulled multiple monsters already.
“So I think they have some with webs.” Merlin’s voice finished the announcement barely above a whisper, and Murmur turned her gaze slowly upward, wishing a moment later that she hadn’t.
Cirician webspinners dangled from the ceiling in varying stages of descent. As they neared the raid on the ground, their chittering became louder. They were the threat she’d sensed, but she knew there was more she couldn’t see. Something up in the darkness, just beyond her sight, was attempting to break her mind.
