Rift

by Nancy E. Dunne

  “Just focusing.” Lex tightened his grip on Em for a moment and pushed some of his magic through his tattoos. He focused on calm, and then on sleep, and soon he heard Em’s breathing slow its rhythm. If Valentin was in Ghostfell when they arrived, then all was lost. Em would be lost. His tattoos glowed a vibrant red at the thought. “Not if I can help it, Em. Not if I can help it.”

  Lex touched down as carefully as he could on a rooftop in the bustling city of Ghostfell. It was on the top of a hill - citizens used a funicular to get from Ghostfell to the rest of the Kingdom of Perrigwyn. It was one of the more interesting points about Arcstone, the game - there were bits of technology woven through the decidedly high fantasy setting. Arcstone the world shared these bits of tech, giving its denizens the ability to move from place to place with ease. Some trains ran on monorail tracks, and in the human city, the skies were filled with seemingly implausible steam-run airships. They were not powerful enough, though, to make the long trip from Merseydale to Perrigwyn, so Lex had not seen one since he left home.

  Left home. Lex snorted. The Kingdom of Merseydale wasn’t his real home, no matter what he had told Em. He wasn’t a graduate of the University of Highpeak. But it felt real, all the way down to his core, and he knew he had to keep repeating that story to her of all people. She had to believe that he was real - that Arcstone was real. He looked around as he carried her sleeping form down from the roof and into the inn where his room was held for him. The door had barely closed behind him when he ran into the innkeeper, Henri.

  “And what is this?” Henri was an older man who spoke the same accented English as Valentin. In fact, most of the residents of Ghostfell and other villages within Perrigwyn had that accent. Some of them spoke only the language that Em had spoken when she cast the spell that found her book - Earth French - but they kept themselves hidden away from the general public. It was no good to walk freely with others when you could cast a spell by just saying good morning.

  “Henri, mon ami, this is a friend of mine. Her name is Em, and she needs a safe place to stay.” Lex inclined his head toward Henri, making a note of the fact that the kindly man was one of only a few that wouldn’t jump back from a Prophis. “She is here at the request of Le Creáteur.” Henri stiffened and nodded.

  “Of course, your room is always ready and waiting for you, Alexander.” Lex’s eyes blazed red at the use of the name, and the diminutive man trembled. “Je suis vraiment désolé, Lex. I...forgot myself for a moment. Please accept my apology.”

  Lex smiled sadly at Henri. “And I am sorry for my reaction, Henri. I will take Em to my room now and get her settled, and then perhaps you and I will have a glass of wine and catch up, oui?” Henri nodded and seemed relieved to head back down the stairs to the inn. Lex took a deep breath. Alexander seemed determined to resurface. Perhaps it was time?

  Em stirred a bit as Lex folded her into the bed and pulled up the duvet under her chin. “Lex?” she whispered, still firmly under his sleep spell.

  “Yes?”

  “Just making sure you are still here.” She snuggled into the pillows and sighed happily. Lex smoothed her hair away from her face and looked at her for a long moment. Why was Le Creáteur interested in her? It just made no sense - but it had never been his place to ask, only to follow orders.

  “But you don’t believe this Valentin is real?” The man smirked as he leaned in toward Lex, quickly using his cane to hook around Lex’s neck and pulled him close. “You don’t believe I am real? Again, I can see the fear crawling up your neck, Alexander.”

  Lex refreshed the sleep magic on Em and stood, finding it harder to leave her than he had expected. He set new magical wards on the room so that he would know when someone walked past the door, let alone tried to open it, and then headed downstairs to meet Henri. The older man was waiting for him in a booth in the corner, and it seemed that everyone else had already retired for the evening - the only light in the room came from the roaring fireplace. A scene such as this one - Henri noticing him and waving him over - seemed perfectly normal to him now. How long had it been since this would have looked different - since the fact that they were alone meant that Henri had vital information to share or a quest for Lex to undertake? That must be how it still appeared to Em. Lex envied her.

  How long had it been since he WAS Alexander?

  Henri waved to him, beckoning him over, and Lex quickly took a seat across from his old friend. “It has been too long, Lex,” the older man said.

  “Oui, you are right, far too long. How have you been? How are things in Ghostfell?” The crestfallen look on Henri’s face told Lex everything he did not want to hear.

  “I believe that you already know, Lex, but it is true. Le Creáteur is back. He has returned to Ghostfell, and he is looking for you...and your friend.”

  Nine

  “Of course, he is why we are here, I told you that.” Lex’s mind raced. This was the absolute worst scenario he could have conceived of when deciding to come to Ghostfell with Em, but the possibility was so remote that he hadn’t thought that it could ever happen. Why would his master return here? Lex knew why - Em. He didn’t know what Le Creáteur wanted with Em, but something about the whole situation made him nervous.

  “Lex, I know when you are lying, mon fils.”

  “I’m not your son, Henri.” Lex looked at the table but knew that his tattoos would broadcast his concern faster than his eyes and that Henri had known him long enough to understand what the colors meant - and why. He first met the bespectacled innkeeper just after he was taken in by Le Creáteur. He was brought to this very inn and dropped off for food and shelter, and Henri had seen through his brazen and gruff exterior – the old man recognized that Lex was just a boy without a father. Even now, as he cleaned his glasses on his shirtsleeve and brushed his silvery hair behind his ears, he had not aged a day since Lex first met him. Arcstone magic, Lex supposed. He thought of Em briefly and how Henri - and Le Creáteur, for that matter - were just NPCs in the game. Non-Player Characters. A collection of code. Algorithms that decide behavior and response based on input. But Henri was so much more than that, wasn’t he? Funny how it all became so clear - how all Em had told him made sense here and now.

  “I know, but you are the child I - well, the son I never had.” Henri paused a moment. “I had a daughter once.” He frowned as he struggled to remember. “Ah, well, I’m sure she is off in the world doing marvelous things.” Lex smiled sadly at his aging mentor. This conversation had happened many times before and always ended with Henri unable to remember the phantom daughter - that part of his code was either written to make him seem doddering and old, or it had been lost in an incorrectly coded loop. He paused as that thought entered his mind - in her house, in the woods, he was not confident he would know what code was, let alone recognize an incorrectly coded loop. Something was changing, now that they were here, in Henri’s inn. But what?

  Or perhaps he was just a doddering old man, and this was real life. Not fantasy. Not a game. Maybe it was all his real-life - but there had to be more than that, right? “How are you, Henri? How is the inn? Do you have a lot of visitors these days?”

  “Oui, we do during the warmer season.” Here goes another familiar conversation. “But you are changing the subject, aren’t you?” That was new.

  “Yes. What do you know about Le Creáteur and why he is here?”

  “I know what he told me, mon fils. He came in the other night looking for you. I haven’t seen him here in person in an absolute age. Normally he sends me letters, and I send him my rent and ideas about new inventions, now and then.” He leaned forward toward Lex and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Lex, you remember - the old days, don’t you? Before you came to me? Before you were thrown in the demonwell?” Lex nodded, but Henri reached out and gripped Lex’s hand. “I mean the days BEFORE. Before the university and the library, the days when you were…” He paused a moment and searched for the word. “The days when you were in le monde vrai.
When you were real.”

  “What are you on about, Henri? When I was real? What do you mean?” Lex thought that he knew exactly what the old man meant, but needed to hear it from him. This was the first non-scripted conversation they had ever had, at least that Lex could remember.

  “You know what I mean, I can see it in your eyes. You and I both, we are not from this world. Valentin made this world, and he put you in it just as he did me. Lex, ce monde n'est pas notre monde, please tell me you know that. Arcstone, this world is NOT our world.” Henri lowered his voice even further. “You and I are real. Arcstone is not.”

  “Yes, I do know this,” Lex admitted reluctantly. “But what does that have to do with Le Creáteur coming here looking for my companion and me? Surely we were not the only ones that ended up here.” He frowned. “Valentin takes credit for my existence as if he made me from the clay under our feet, but that is not true. I was thrown in the demonwell and -”

  “Lex, that is not the real story. You know it. Try to remember your real life. Your real parents. Can you?” Lex shook his head. “That is unfortunate, though I suppose it makes your life better. You know the script that I repeat every time we talk, mon fils?” Lex nodded. “It is grounded in truth. I did have a daughter, in le monde vrai she lived and she was beautiful and smart and perfect. I had a wife who was my match in every way. I had a life - a life I can remember - and that makes this life so cruel. We are prisoners here, you and I, and I fear that -”

  Lex followed Henri’s gaze over his shoulder and saw what had given the old man such pause. Em was standing there watching them, her arms folded across her chest and a stern expression on her face. “Say no more, old friend,” Lex hissed, and Henri nodded. He pulled his cap down over his face as Lex scooted out of the booth and closed the gap between himself and Em. “Did you rest well?”

  “You know I did.” She was angry, but for the moment, it was just at him. Good. “What kind of magic was that, Lex?” He thought about denying it, but in the end, he just hung his head. “I did not ask you to help me sleep. That was a violation.” He nodded. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, do you understand me?” He nodded again. “Was that the only time that you’ve done that? What about before?”

  “Before, in your house in Iredale?”

  “No. Before...before.” He looked at her quizzically and then caught on to her, meaning just too late to stop her from continuing to talk. “You know, the ‘before,’ when you were you, Alex.” Lex heard Henri cough loudly - this would not end well. Henri did not need to know who Em really was if Valentin was coming around looking for her. It would keep Henri safe not to know anything about -

  “You, girl, what is your name?” Henri had gotten to his feet and was approaching them. Em was standing opposite the innkeeper now, staring at him as though she was seeing a ghost. Lex jumped in between them, but Em shoved him out of the way. “Why are you bringing mon fils Lex to danger here in Ghostfell?” She did not answer, only continuing to stare and then shake her head no. “What is wrong with you, ma fille?”

  “Don’t call me that.” As soon as she spoke to him, it was like a light came on for Henri. Lex had never seen him look that way before, and wasn’t sure what to do as Henri raised his arms and moved slowly toward Em, his hands reaching for her face. “Don’t.” She took a step back but did not look away.

  “Madelyne?” Em remained frozen in place. “Oh, mon précieuse enfant, tu m'as manqué plus que je n'ai de mots à exprimer.” Lex wheeled around to stare at Henri. His French was passable, but surely he had misunderstood what Henri just said. My child? Henri’s...child? This must be more non-player character banter - though Em was undoubtedly not a non-player character.

  “Stop speaking French, it isn’t fair, and it isn’t safe,” she hissed. “You cannot be my Papa, he is safe at home, and not...here!”

  “But I am not, ma fille. I have not been for many years. I have been here.” Henri looked around at Lex, who was glowing red from his eyes to the tips of his tattoos. “Just tell me that you have been well? And your mother, ma coeur Maggie, is she all right?”

  “I don’t like this, Lex. We need to leave.” Lex put an arm around her, but she shook it off. “Now, Lex, we need to leave now.”

  “Henri, leave her alone, she doesn’t understand -”

  “Henri?” Em pushed Lex aside again and glared at Henri. “Comment vous appelez-vous? And don’t lie because I will know.”

  Henri took another step closer to her and held his hand out. Em took it and then looked up into his eyes. “My name is Henri Laurent, ma fille, and yours is Madelyne Magdalene Laurent, and YOU ARE MY DAUGHTER.” He pulled her into a hug that she did not fight and held her tightly. “You do not look the same, but I would know that voice anywhere. It is the voice of my Maggie, your mother.”

  Em pushed back from him and looked at Lex. “How does a non-player character know that much about my family and me?” She looked back at Henri. “Also, as I said, my father is at home.”

  This was not getting them anywhere. “Let’s - what is the phrase you use? Put a pin in this, for now, Em, we have more pressing matters.” She narrowed her eyes. “I promise we will figure this out. But there is much more that you need to know first, and I think that Henri and I need to be the ones to tell you.” Em nodded, but the color ran out of Henri’s face as he looked at Lex. “I know, old friend, I know. Le Creáteur worries me as much as he does you, but this has gone too far, tu n'es pas d'accord?”

  “I do agree, of course, but - I worry for Maddie here.”

  “Em.” Both of their heads pivoted to face her. “Call me Em.”

  “Of course. Em. We will need to protect you if -”

  “No one needs to protect me, Henri.” She exaggerated his name, and he nodded, grinning. “I can take care of myself and this big lug here, can’t I, Lex?” Lex was bursting with pride at that moment, and his tattoos showed it - they glowed a bright royal blue that was tinged with purple. But he did worry for her - she had no idea what she was up against in Le Creáteur, and he had no idea how they would defeat him if he did present a threat. They had to talk to Henri and get everyone up to speed - that was key.

  “She is very talented, Henri, you would be very proud.” The innkeeper beamed as Em scowled, and Lex chuckled. “Come, let us retire to our room for the night. In the morning, Henri, you can come up, and we will talk. I can shield the room so that no one can hear us.”

  “It remains so from the last time you were here, mon fils. I will knock before I enter.” He waggled his unruly silvery-gray eyebrows at Lex as Em’s face flushed, and Lex’s tattoos glowed purple.

  “Shall I shield you as well, old friend?”

  “No, I have my own protection, don’t you worry,” Henri said, chuckling as he drew a towel from his apron and began wiping down the bar. “Jusqu'à demain matin, mon fils et ma fille.”

  “Yes, until tomorrow, Henri.” Lex grabbed Em by the arm before she had a chance to remind Henri that he was not her father. That was an interesting conundrum - if Henri was real, as she was and as, apparently, Lex was too then who was living with Em’s mother in South Carolina? How long had Henri been in the Arcstone world - Lex was still not ready to call it a game, as Em did - and how did he end up there? It was all too much without more information. Lex rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, and Em pulled out of his grip. Instead of walking into their room, however, she turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. “Something wrong?” he asked, knowing full well there was.

  “Where do I start?”

  Ten

  Lex tried to send as much magical calm as he could toward Em, but she wasn’t having it. “You’re doing it again! Stop that!”

  “I have to ask how you know that I did anything - perhaps you were just tired and needed to rest?” The glare that met his gaze answered that question. “Okay, okay.” Lex raised his hands in surrender. “I worry for you, Em. Before you - arrived in Arcstone, you didn’t know that because th
ere was no way in...in the game to act on my concern.” Her fiery gaze calmed a bit, but not much. “Now that you are here with me, I find that I cannot help myself but to take care of you.”

  “But I don’t need you to -”

  “IT HAS LITTLE TO DO WITH WHAT YOU THINK YOU NEED, EM.” Her eyes widened as he turned away from her, horrified. He had raised his voice, and it wasn't at all what he meant. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I care for you a great deal, and I do not want you to be hurt.”

  "Lex, look at me." He shook his head. His fangs had elongated, a biological response to extreme emotion. Her hand on his arm burned through the fabric of the tunic he wore as surely as though her skin was alight. "Lex." Her voice had softened. Finally, he looked over his shoulder at her. Those perfect blue-green eyes stared up at him - no fear, no sadness, not rimmed with tears. Just questioning. Confusion - partially at his outburst and partly at the revelation that he cared for her, he assumed. "Can I say something now?"

  "Sure." He was ready for a bollocking, but instead, she pushed on that same arm to turn him back around toward her. Lex caught her hand in his - surely it was aflame because he was sure he would have a brand there where it had been.

  "I know you care for me, Lex. I knew it when you were Alex. I knew it when you called me darlin’. I feel the same way about you, you oaf." He smiled and managed a chuckle, but then thought better of it after assessing the look on her face. Still angry. Noted. "If you really care for me, you have to accept that you can't control me. You don't get to decide when I sleep or when I need a cup of tea or some food." As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly.

  "I will respect your wishes, Em."

  "No, you won't, but if you can at least try - that would be a nice start." She released his arm and folded her arms across her midsection. “I don’t remember the last time I ate. We had tea last night, but no food.”