by Terry Schott
“Those twigs never stood a chance.” Lelthaes smirked and Shale nudged his foot with the toe of her boot.
“There was a chance this was a decoy, but that’s fine.” Jielir nodded. “It’s better to think of each target as a tree or bunch of twigs. Easier to keep your mind on the task.”
“What now?” Shale asked.
“They are close, and we have been quiet.” Jielir retrieved his arrows and returned them to his quiver. “Spread out a hundred paces from each other and sweep forward.”
“And when we find them?” Shale asked.
“Shout as loud as you can,” Lelthaes offered.
Jielir scowled. “We go by counts. Slow count to three thousand, then rendezvous to report findings. When we locate them, we all meet up and attack together.”
“Okay.” Shale pulled her arrows from the target. They had trained on search techniques. They would sweep an area and then find each other before heading back out. It had been a tricky maneuver to learn, but a condition that all rangers mastered during training.
“Let’s go.” Jielir strode from the camp with Shale beside him.
They moved to where the woods became thicker and stopped, waiting for Lelthaes who had been last to retrieve his arrows. He was walking toward them, one hand slipping the arrows into his quiver. Shale frowned as a dark blur appeared behind her friend and grew quickly in size. “What is that?”
Jielir pushed her behind him and took a step forward, drawing an arrow. “Lelthaes, drop to the ground, now!”
Shale saw the look of confusion on her friend’s face. He half turned and fell onto his back, screaming in surprise as he raised both hands to protect himself.
The giant bear roared and pounced, its enormous head streaking for Lelthaes’s face, jaws wide and snarling.
43
“No!” Kenny bolted upright, whipping his head back and forth.
“Easy, Kenny.” He heard the calm voice at the same time he felt a hand touch his shoulder. “Everything’s okay now. You’re safe.”
“Huh?” He felt a pounding in his chest and gasped for breath. “Where am I? What happened?”
A pretty young woman stood before him, smiling. “You were playing Blades VR but you’re out now, back in your own body.”
“Blades VR? Body?” He nodded and took a deep breath. “Right, yeah. Oh thank god.”
The woman stepped back, still smiling. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
He lay back on the bed, enjoying the softness of the pillow. “Dying. Last thing I remember was dying.”
“Not for real.”
“It felt like it.”
“How do you know?” The woman’s voice sounded playful. “You’ve never died for real.”
“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair and let it drop beside him. Then he laughed. “I guess not.”
“It was bad, though?”
He shuddered. “Yeah. Pretty bad.”
“That’s the idea.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be an ass.” He closed his eyes. “You’re really freaking me out right now.”
“How?”
“I just died and you sound happy about it.”
“I’m not though, Kenny.”
“Yeah. Whatever. It’ll be fine in a few minutes, but can ya stop talking for a second and let me deal with this? I just died. It felt as real as anything I’ve ever felt.”
Silence.
Kenny relived the pain and trauma as it flashed through his brain again. Let it flow past, he told himself. Don’t hang onto it. Focus on breathing. You’re alive again. It was only a game. Like a bad dream.
The tightness in his neck lessened, his pulse slowed. He took a few more breaths, then opened his eyes and looked around.
The medical attendant sat in a chair, watching him. “Better?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked on you like that.”
She stood, turned, and walked to a table against one wall. “Of course you should. Freaking out makes sense, considering what you went through.” She approached and held up a syringe. “This is a vitamin shot with a little calming juice mixed in.”
“No, I’m okay now, thanks.”
She stood over him and winked. “I know you are, which is why I’m allowed to give you this shot. If you’d been unable to calm down I had a stronger recipe to stick into you.”
He watched her swab a spot on his arm and insert the needle. He winced. “Will this knock me out?”
“No.” She withdrew the needle and patted his forearm. “There ya go, champ.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
He closed his eyes. A feeling of calmness settled over him. “Yeah, that’s better.”
“Good. Want to talk about it?” Her voice was close. “Or is it too soon?”
Kenny opened his eyes turned to face her. “What’s your name?”
“Abby.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls you meet.”
“Only the ones named Abby.”
She laughed.
“How long was I out?”
“You died a couple of hours ago.”
“Did you see it?”
She made a wry face and nodded.
“It look as bad as it felt?”
“Gnolls are nasty creatures.”
“Yeah.”
“It was tough luck to run into one so soon into your game.”
“It was stupid.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “We heard that it was injured, almost dead. There was a group of us who thought it would be easy experience.”
“Not a horrible guess.”
“Except it wasn’t injured.”
“Oh.”
“Damned thing was pretending to be hurt.”
“Smart.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Too smart. They were never so clever in the PC game.”
“Blades VR is more like the role-playing game.”
“That’s what they say, but I’m not so sure.” Ken fidgeted to get more comfortable. “I played the role-playing game when I was a kid. Gnolls weren’t very smart there either.”
“Maybe they were supposed to be but you had a bad Dungeon Laird.”
“Maybe.” He sighed. “Yeah, I guess John was a crappy DL, now that I think back on it.”
“How realistic was the pain?”
“As real as any pain I’ve experienced in this body.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“But it was chewing on your—”
“My face. Yeah. I can still feel it’s teeth against my cheekbone as it bit into me. And the smell of it…” He shuddered.
“You’re a brave man, Kenny.”
He laughed.
She reached out to touch his arm. “Really. I mean it. Not everyone volunteered for the full experience. A lot took the less painful option.”
“What’s the point in that?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Aside from the obvious perk?”
“I mean, why bother paying to have a real experience only to skip out on parts of the package? The players that opted out on the full experience robbed themselves.”
“You think so, even after what you’ve just experienced?”
“Especially after what I’ve experienced.” He smiled. “Sure, it was horrible, but I have a cool new story to tell. And look at me.” He gently slapped his cheek. “I had the experience and, when it was all over, I get my face back.”
Abby laughed. “I guess that’s a good way to look at it.”
“Right?” He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “When can I go back in?”
“Your avatar died.”
“It did?”
“Yeah.”
“What about resurrection?”
She shook her head.
“I thought I had a character with access to a chance for a Rez?”
“You did, and they tried.”
“Ah.” His eyelids felt heavy. “The avatar failed its system shock check?”
“That’s right. With the damage to the corpse and length of time dead before it was recovered, there was only a twelve percent chance that resurrection would work.”
“Did the priest even bother to try?”
Abby laughed. “Your character’s rich father paid for it. Once a priest accepts coin, they always make the attempt. But it didn’t take.”
“Bummer.” Kenny closed his eyes.
“You will get a new avatar when you’re ready to go back in.” Abby’s voice became faint. “Rest up, then decide if you want to try a different race or class. No rush.”
44
Zecaras completed the ritual and waited for the expanse of vibrating air in front of him to drip down and create a semi-visible doorway. He wiped the excess powder from his hands that had been used to create the portal, then stepped through.
There was a brief moment of dizziness as he travelled hundreds of miles with a single step from the audience chamber of the crafter Chapter House to his destination in the countryside. He emerged and raised a hand to dissolve the doorway, not bothering to look back.
A woman dressed in lavender robes approached and bowed. “Custodian.”
Zecaras looked at the black tower behind her. “What have you learned so far, Lirana?”
“The tower is empty.”
“Abandoned?”
She nodded.
Zecaras sighed. “Have any of our crafters entered it yet?”
“No, Custodian. We waited for your arrival.”
“Let’s take a look, then.” He strode forward, Lirana at his side. As they neared the dirt path which led to the front door, an invisible pressure caused Zecaras to stop. “Curious.” He raised a hand in front of his face, palm facing outward. His hand encountered an invisible barrier and froze. The air crackled as magical energy pushed against his hand. Zecaras raised one eyebrow and muttered words of magic. Violet and black sparks appeared, dancing along the skin of his palm, sputtering as if angered by the contact. He pushed harder and the sparks intensified, not able to push through. He let the hand drop to his side.
Lirana’s expression conveyed her concern. “A barrier capable of stopping you? That did not look like Xarquala’s signature essence.”
“It isn’t his.” He turned and made a wry face. “And yes, they have managed to bar my entry.”
“But that shouldn’t be possible.”
“There are few capable of such a thing, that is for certain. Definitely not possible for a crafter bound to the Council.”
Lirana’s eyes widened. “Xarquala turned rogue?”
“Of course not.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t know.” Zecaras withdrew a smooth, round stone from his pocket. He muttered a few words and waved his other hand over it. The rock rose from his palm, spinning slowly in the air. He made a flicking motion and the stone flew straight up into the sky, stopping at the edge of the crafter’s vision. Zecaras wiggled his fingers and the stone moved forward a few feet, then stopped, sending out a shower of magical sparks. His open palm became a fist as he willed the stone forward, increasing the pressure against the field. The sparks intensified, then ceased as the rock disintegrated.
Lirana laughed. “Of course the barrier has to fully surround the tower.”
Zecaras shrugged. “Sometimes mistakes are made.”
“I will probe under the ground as well.”
“Good.”
“Have you tried to contact Xarquala? It is not like him to abandon his tower, and certainly not in this manner.”
Zecaras frowned. “There has been no contact from him for weeks which is what gave the young wizard’s report enough credibility for us to investigate.”
“Perhaps someone has defeated him.”
The Custodian snorted. “I find that hard to believe. There are few of his level. He can certainly protect himself. Even had someone managed to best him, a Custodian would have felt such a disturbance in the field and alerted the others.”
Lirana crossed her arms. “What do you want me to do?”
“See if you or one of the others can find a trick door or other sort of way in. I will report to the High Council and we will determine what happened to Xarquala. If he lives and has caused this”—Zecaras’s lips pursed together—“we will find him.”
“And if it was someone else?”
The Custodian frowned. “Someone powerful enough to defeat a high-level dark wizard without alerting the rest of us?” He shook his head.
45
Xander wasn’t sure how long he had been wandering. With a frown, he stopped and turned, looked at the black stone bricks and shook his head. “I’m lost.”
“Finally, you admit it.”
Xander turned and saw a small humanoid creature hovering in the air at eye level. Naked except for a grey loincloth, the creature—small enough to fit in Xander’s hand—had leathery bat-like wings which were flapping to keep it in place. Its skin was shiny and black. Two curved horns, darker than the rest of the creature, protruded from its forehead.
Tilting its bald head to one side, the creature smirked. “I’ve been following you around for hours.”
“You have?”
The creature nodded. “Was starting to think that maybe the overwhelming beauty of her castle had caused you to become a mute.”
Xander scowled.“Very funny. What are you?”
The creature raised its eyebrows and touched a hand to chest. “What do you mean ‘What am I?’” It paused and then shook its head. “Oh, wait. Have you finally lost it? You have, haven’t you?”
Xander frowned but did not speak.
“You don’t remember me?”
“I don’t.”
The creature sighed. “I’m you.”
Xander took a step back. “What?”
The creature laughed, a nasal, high-pitched sound like steam from a kettle. “Well, part of you. The good part, if you ask me.”
Xander’s eyebrows furrowed and the creature sighed. “I’m Xyclotl, that not ring a bell?”
“No.”
“Xyclotl!” it shouted. “I’m a shard imp. You know, the physical manifestation of your Shard spirit.”
Xander stared for a second, then shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
The imp’s wings stopped beating. It fell to the ground and struck the stones with a wet thud.
“Hey.” Xander bent down to inspect the imp. Its eyes were closed. “You okay?”
“I am not okay,” it muttered, eyes still shut. “I’m trying to die.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause my human form is on its way out.”
“It is?”
“You are.” The small head nodded. “Loss of awareness is the first step. You’re obviously there. Next will come the messy part. Whining, thrashing. I don’t want to see it.”
“I’m not dying.”
The imp grunted and rolled to one side, then pushed itself up and looked at Xander. “Well something’s wrong with ya. We’re old pals. Known each other for most of your life.” The imp shook its head and looked at the ground. “Snap out of it, chum. How can you not remember your old pal, Xyclotl?”
“I don’t. Sorry.”
Xyclotl opened its mouth, grinned, and launched itself into the air, quickly rising until it returned eye level. Then it hoovered again. “How can I stay mad at you? It would be like punishing myself.” The imp winked. “Maybe your memory will return once you wake up.”
“Wake up? Am I’m sleeping?”
“You are.” Xyclotl frowned. “I mean, if you call being in a coma and fighting for your life sleeping.”
Xander’s breath caught in his throat. “The trial.”
“There ya go. Memories begin to return.
”
Xander looked around. “What am I doing here?”
“This is where the Dark Lady lives.”
“The goddess?”
“Uh huh.” The tiny head nodded. “You’re here to meet her.”
“I’ve been wandering around for a long time. The place seems to be filled with nothing but long hallways.”
“That’s why I’m here, pal.” The shard imp landed on Xander’s right shoulder. He could feel the imp’s tail swish back and forth against the material of his shirt. “Follow my directions, and we’ll get to the Dark Lady.”
“Okay. Where to?”
“Straight down this hall. Turn left at the next intersection.”
46
Lelthaes died quickly.
The giant bear, as big as an elephant back home, swiped at her friend’s head with a massive paw and it went sailing through the air, separated from his still standing body.
“RUN!” Jielir screamed at her but her feet wouldn’t move. “Shale! Move!” He yelled again as the bear turned toward her, its eyes cruel and angry.
She ran. From the corner of her eye she saw Jielir aim his bow and fire, sending as many arrows as he could while the beast closed the distance between them.
The bear roared behind her, first with rage, and then in pain. She stopped and turned, sure that he would defeat it. He was an experienced ranger, a battle-hardened elf with decades of killing experience.
She turned just as the bear, half a dozen arrows protruding from its neck and muzzle, reached her mentor. Jielir ducked and dove to one side, narrowly avoiding the sweep of its enormous paw. Shale saw the elf draw his blade and slash upward as he rolled. The bear screamed as a bright red splash of blood appeared on its front leg. A normal creature would have retreated at that, at least for a moment.
Instead, the giant bear reared up on its hind legs, turned toward Jielir, and dropped down with a loud roar.
The distance between them did not muffle the sounds of Jielir’s bones breaking as the impact crushed him to death.
The bear reared up and pounced once more, then sniffed the air and turned. Shale’s heart froze as its gaze locked on her.
As it began to charge, a calmness settled over her. The ground shook. A small voice inside told her what she must do. The bear was closing fast. One part of her knew she was going to die, but the gamer in her had an idea.
