by Phil Tucker
I turned her around and took her by the shoulders. “You’re here, Lotharia. I know you well enough to tell you you’re here.”
She gave me a frightened smile and ran her hands through her hair. “Right. OK. This isn’t another dream.”
“No, it’s not. We’re going to get to the center of that web and we’re going to kill Xyla and we’re going to get the hell out of here. Got it?”
“Got it,” she said, and gave me a decisive nod. “We’d best hurry, though. The longer we take, the more likely he is to trick us into another trap.”
“Then let’s go.” I pulled her into a run, and we jogged ever closer to the center of the web, taking different forks, our up and down shifting as we did so, but moving ever closer to the nexus, the point where all the strands converged.
A cube that extruded from the center of the webbing itself, about chest high and as broad as the span of my arms. There was nothing else in the center. Glowing of runes appeared across its surface, scrolling over it and then disappearing from view around its edges.
“There,” she said. “That’s him.”
“Huh,” I said. “Like, some kind of rune computer?”
“I’ve no idea,” she said. “But that’s his physical form, if that even means anything in this game.”
I drew the Void Blade. “Then let’s take him apart.” We stepped off the final strand onto the circular plane of webbing on which Xyla stood. The air thrummed with power, and the white runes – fuzzy as if projected from within the cube onto its inner surface – scrolled with greater speed in every direction across its exterior.
A wave of drowsiness hit me. I cracked a yawn, squeezing my eyes shut as I did so, and for a moment I saw Justin lying in a small, dark cell, staring out a window at the rain coming down on Miami, tears running down his cheeks. My heart lurched, but then I shook myself and I was back on the web.
“Enough of this,” I said. I strode up to the cube and my mother appeared before me, standing on the webbing in her hospital gown, eyes sunken, hair greasy, skin ashen.
I yelled and fell back, but when she reached for me I screamed and cut through her with my blade. She faded away, trailing like mist after my blow.
“How dare you?” I stepped up to the cube. “How dare—”
Lotharia stepped between me and Xyla. “Don’t do it,” she said. “Please, Chris, you don’t understand what’s at stake. You don’t understand what Albertus is trying to do. If—”
“That’s not me,” said Lotharia, voice cracking with panic. “Chris? That’s not me!”
I looked over my shoulder at where she stood, then back to the Lotharia between me and the cube. “Sorry, Xyla. Nice try.”
“Chris. Please.” The Lotharia before me dropped to her knees, hands pressed together in supplication. “You think Albertus created me for frivolous reasons? You know the magnitude of his task. How the hopes of the world rest on his shoulders. If you destroy me, you attack part of his plan to save humanity. Don’t do this. You don’t have the understanding, the context—”
I drew back, my mind racing. “So, what exactly are you saying? I should just let you bind me to your web so you can keep lurking in this keep, catching people?”
Lotharia’s features flowed and became Justin’s. It was his voice that spoke: “Yes. You are one against the weight of eleven billion souls. You’ve strayed too far outside your own realm. Lower your blade.”
“Lotharia?” I turned back to her. She was staring off into space, unseeing, tears running down her cheeks. He’d captured her. “Damn it!” I wheeled back, but Justin was gone. Instead, my mother stood before me. My mother as I remembered her from my youth, healthy and beautiful, elegantly dressed and exuding warmth and compassion.
“Lay down your sword, Chris. You’ve fought well, but—”
I stepped through her image and speared my blade into the heart of the cube. My mother shrieked behind me, a sound that caused my skin to crawl, but I twisted the blade, cutting a circle deeper into the rune computer, leaning in with all my strength.
A dozen different people appeared around me, flickering into existence and disappearing just as quickly. They hollered, bellowed, screamed and vanished. Stabbing pain pierced my mind and I saw flashes of my past, a torrent of memories without rhyme or reason.
I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and shoved harder. The Void Blade sank in to the hilt. The screams around me rose to a crescendo, a roar, like standing beneath a massive waterfall, and then it all stopped.
I stood in the keep’s grand hall. Or, at least, a version of it. Much smaller, the decorations mundane, the light coming in from tall, narrow windows along the left wall causing motes of dust to catch fire and illuminating the war banners and tapestries.
Lagash sat at one of the long tables, head pillowed on her crossed arms. Scores of weapons, suits of armor, rings, amulets, and other gear was strewn across the table tops as well. Lotharia stumbled beside me, eyelids fluttering, reaching out for my arm. I caught her, pulled her in close.
“Chris? Did you—oh.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her brow, then straightened. “It’s over.” There was wonder and disbelief in her voice. “It’s—it’s really over.”
Lagash stirred, uncoiling from her rest like a great serpent, eyes narrowing as she lifted her head and stared around her. “What… where…?”
My mother’s scream still echoed in my mind. I felt soiled, corrupted. Used. I shivered, then gave Lotharia a squeeze. “We’re out, Lagash. Xylagothoth is dead. The keep is ours.”
My XP chime sounded, then again and in a flurry, so many chimes overlapping that I couldn’t make out a single note.
“The others?” Lagash rose to her feet, hands rising to touch the hilts of her falchions crossed behind her back. “Vanatos, Balthus…?”
“If they died,” said Lotharia, “then their souls are finally released. They’ll be respawning now, along with everyone else who was caught in here.”
Lagash nodded slowly. “So we’re the last ones left.”
“Yep.” I didn’t like the way she was standing. The tension in her frame. “Come on. Let’s go check the way into the dungeons below.”
Lagash gave another slow nod and stood a little straighter. “Good idea. Follow me.”
Lotharia shot me a questioning glance as we fell in behind the orc, but I simply shook my head. I knew just how acute Lagash’s senses were. We descended the stairs to the entrance hall, passed through the empty kitchen, and then into the pantry that featured a large trapdoor in its center.
Lagash snorted. “The magic barrier’s gone.” She crouched by the trapdoor, grasped the large iron ring, and with a grunt lifted the door a couple of inches before releasing it and letting it crash back down. “Looks like the way to the treasure is now open.”
“Good,” I said. Falkon would be respawning even now in the highland meadow. Michaela? I’d no idea. She’d been in Death March mode but had never actually died. Wherever she was, she was too far to be of any help. Lagash turned to face us both full on. I checked my mana surreptitiously: zero out of thirty-three.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Chris,” said the orc.
“You sound like our friendship’s coming to an end,” I said. My mind was racing. If Lagash decided to kill us, there was absolutely nothing I could do. My stone cloak was tapped out. My shadow belt was used up. My Ring of the Bull was still recharging. I had my Void Blade, but I wasn’t even going to pretend that I could stand toe-to-toe with Lagash in straight combat for more time than it took her to cut off my head.
“I’m the last of the Beggars, which means it’s up to me to fulfill our contract.” Was that reluctance I heard in her voice?
“By yourself?” Lotharia tried for scorn and almost managed. “In the dungeon below? No matter how tough you are, you’ll be slaughtered.”
; “No, not by myself. I’ll hold the castle till the others rejoin me.”
“All their gear is on these tables,” I said. “It’ll be a sight more difficult for them to travel here a second time.”
Lagash’s eyes were flat. Emotionless. “They can call in debts, get a teleportation spell cast.”
“Well, damn,” I said. That nixed that line of argument. “So, what’s that mean, then? You plan to kill us? After all we’ve been through?”
“Not if I don’t have to,” said Lagash. “I’d rather not. But I’ll ask you to leave Castle Winter and not come back. Our friendship ends when you walk out the gate.”
“Fine,” I said. Easy to agree to an offer in which you have no choice. “I take it you mean to escort us out?”
Lagash inclined her head.
We left the storage room and marched through the kitchen. Sunlight made everything appear quaint, almost banal. No creeping shadows, no atmosphere of dread. Just dust and old pots and ashen fireplaces.
We’d team up with Falkon and Michaela. Retreat to Barry’s cave and plan a way to take out Lagash before the rest of the Beggars could return. Even if all of us moved against Lagash, I didn’t think we had a good chance. She was just that damn powerful.
We stepped into the narrow hallway. Lagash was as smart and competent a player as I was, and worse, had a killer avatar to work with. That meant she’d expect our attack. She’d probably hole up in the keep and force us into a frontal assault. Our best bet would be for me to sneak people in with my powers, but she now knew my character sheet in intimate detail. It’d be really hard to surprise her.
“Chris,” said Lagash from behind, and I turned, expecting a blade to the chest. Instead, Lagash had her arms crossed, chin lowered. “If you come back, I’ll target you first. Any attempt to remove me will depend on your darkblade abilities. But I know exactly what you’re capable of, and I know you’re in Death March mode.”
I stared at her in silence.
“Don’t come back, Chris. Just like I know your sheet, you know mine. You know what I’m capable of. Don’t make me kill you.”
I didn’t respond. I simply held her flat gaze and then turned back to the door. I shoved it open with more force then was perhaps strictly necessary, took a few steps out into the sunshine and staggered to a halt.
Some seventy or eighty orcs stood arrayed before us in the bright sunlight. While unarmored and bearing crude weapons, they were impressively muscled, their dark green skin marked with white war paint. A ripple ran through their ranks at the sight of us, and a low growl filled the air like a hundred junkyard dogs deciding we’d taken one step too far into their territory.
The bottom dropped out of my stomach. We were surrounded by feral, furious gazes, bared fangs, heavily muscled shoulders hunched in anger, knuckles whitening around the grips of clubs and spears.
“Chris!” A young woman made her way to the front, orcs stepping aside with deference and bowed heads. “You made it! Awesome!”
I did a double take. “Brianna?”
She’d donned primitive garb, a leather wrap pulled tight around her generous chest, a bikini bottom and knee-high boots completing her outfit, crossed bandoliers of daggers and her blade at her hip. She wore streaks of the same white paint across her cheeks and bare shoulders, and her infectious grin was utterly incongruous with her savage company.
Her gaze slid over to Lotharia, and her grinned thinned out, but then she moved to stand beside what had to be the orc leader, a hulking mass of dusky muscle and yellowed tusks, and gave him a hug.
“You’ve just got meet our new friends! This here’s Shaman Lickit – he’s the spiritual leader of the Big Burpie tribe. Wacky names, right?”
“Shaman… Lickit?” I stared at the monster by Brianna’s side. He stood almost seven feet tall, and his massive chest was covered in endless ropes of shiny trash, like fragments of broken mirrors, bent silver coins, and shards of metal. “Holy crap. It really is him.”
Shaman Lickit growled so deeply it felt like the rocks beneath our feet were shifting. “Chris is friend of Queen Brianna. That makes him friend of Big Burpie tribe.”
“I… great.” I walked forward, Lotharia by my side, and then it dawned on me. I turned around to stare at where Lagash stood all by herself in the keep’s doorway, eyes wide, both her falchions hanging limply from her hands.
“That’s really great to hear,” I said, voice growing more confident. I couldn’t help but grin. “Hey, Lagash. Look. More orcs. Want to come out and meet them?”
“Shit,” said Lagash.
Shaman Lickit let out another growl, and this one seemed much more…. appreciative.
“Brianna,” I called out, not taking my eyes from where Lagash stood. “If you asked Shaman Lickit to remove Lagash from the castle, would he be willing to do so?”
Brianna’s voice was a trifle more focused now, her tone a little more concerned. “Sure. Right, Lickit?”
An assenting rumble came from behind me.
“Sorry, Lagash. Looks like your luck’s run out.”
Her eyes flicked from side to side. She half turned to consider the keep, eyed the thickness of the door. I could imagine what she was envisioning. How she’d bolt inside, slam it closed and bar it. Trying to imagine how long it would take the orcs to batter it down. The hellish combat that would ensue as she fought off an endless wave of berserking orcs, retreating until she was cornered. She was probably trying to gauge how many she could kill before she’d be overrun. Twenty? Forty? Sixty?
Whatever the figure, it wasn’t enough.
She reached up and sheathed her falchions over her shoulders, and to my surprise gave me a grin. “Ah, well. Looks like I’ve got no choice. Castle’s yours, Chris.”
“Just like that?” My character sheet chimed. “You don’t even seem mad about it.”
“I’m not. As long as I have absolutely no chance of holding the castle, Vanatos can’t punish me. Which means I can stick it to him by giving it to you, and then watch him rage. Fair warning, though: he won’t give up easily, and even eighty orcs will have trouble keeping all five of us from taking back the castle.”
“Yeah, sure. And, um, why exactly are you working for Vanatos if you’re not a big fan? Anything we could offer you to make you switch sides?”
Lagash’s smile faded away. “I wish. I really do. But my cards have been dealt. The next time we meet…”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
“Well, then.” She straightened. “It was an honor fighting alongside you. See you soon.” And with that, she marched directly toward the gate. I turned to watch her go, at once impressed and sobered by her attitude, her capacity, her sheer lethality that made the orcs part before her as if she radiated a killer heat.
Nobody spoke till she was gone, and then Brianna let out a cry of joy. “Success! I knew you could do it!” She ran up and hugged me tightly, leaping into my arms so she could kick up both legs behind her. I staggered, forced to hug her back so as to not drop her, then carefully set her down.
“Brianna? This is Lotharia.”
Brianna turned to her with a glittering smile and narrowed eyes. “I thought you’d be prettier.”
“I – excuse me?” Lotharia looked bewildered. “I—weren’t you…?”
“I’ll catch you up,” I said. “A lot happened while you were away.” I didn’t like how Brianna was staring at Lotharia, but when I raised my hand to rub at the back of my neck I caught sight of that star of scar tissue again. Brianna was part of my life. In a way, she’d saved me in there. And she’d saved us out here, right now, again.
“I’m glad to see you, Brianna.” I realized I meant it, though probably not in the way she wanted. “Thank you.”
She cocked her head to one side and gave me a superficial smile. “Any time, Chris. You know I’d do anything for y
ou.”
“Great, thanks.” I didn’t like the way she was staring at me at all. Time to change the subject. “But, um, how did you get in so tight with Shaman Lickit?”
Brianna glanced down at her nails. “Oh, so folks don’t find my company nearly so tiresome as you do. I came in here and found them all climbing to their feet, the poor darlings. I thought I’d have to fight my way through them but then I saw how Lickit was looking at me, and, well.” She turned on her smile. “Some men are easier than others to wrap around your finger.”
“Especially when you’re rocking a charisma over nine thousand,” I said. “Awesome. But for now, I think we’d best get some Big Burpies up on the walls and in the main gate. I don’t think Lagash will come storming back in, but if we don’t post any guards she might feel obliged. Then we’ve got to hit the highland meadow to meet up with Falkon, then head down to Feldgrau to see if Michaela’s down there and give Guthorios the good news.”
“We’re not safe yet, are we?” asked Lotharia. “Lagash and her friends are coming back. And the dungeons below the keep… I dreamt of them while I was under. They’re much worse than anything we’ve yet faced.”
“No,” said Lotharia. “You’re not safe yet.”
I ignored Brianna’s tone. “But despite the odds, we’re still standing. We cleared the keep and we’ve got possession of Castle Winter. If that’s not a miracle, I don’t know what is.” I couldn’t help but grin, a rich, stirring, deep satisfaction suffusing me, making me feel more alive then I’d ever been before. “And whatever comes, I know we can face it. I know we can win.”
“He’s cute when he gets excited, isn’t he?” Brianna asked Lotharia, who simply blushed.
I laughed and, on impulse, opened my character sheet.
You have gained 832 experience. You have 869 unused XP. Your total XP is 2044.
Congratulations! You are Level 14!
Congratulations! You are Level 15!
Congratulations! You are Level 16!
