‘I would still like to try Adrian; I reckon he’s curious about the game.’
‘Then try. So: Jamie Cox, Emily Carver and Adrian McVay. Good. I will expect one of them. If you should decide on someone else, let me know.’
He sets the flask down in front of Sarius, and waits until the latter has drunk it. Only then does he leave the back room. Sarius only just registers that his belt is regaining its colour and the injury tone is disappearing before the door slams shut and the darkness becomes absolute.
CHAPTER 10
A glance at the computer clock told Nick that it was 12.43 a.m., and hence far too late to ring Jamie. Jamie had his own computer – that was a good start. He didn’t use it very often, but Nick would manage to convince him that he couldn’t possibly miss out on Erebos.
The idea of doing Chemistry now was ridiculous, but nevertheless it crossed Nick’s mind briefly. The Arena fights might last a long time – so it would be reassuring if he’d already got a head start with the writing. But it was more important, far more important, to copy the game first. Nick rummaged through desk drawers. He still had blank DVDs, he was certain. But where?
It took a little while before he found one in its original packaging under a pile of papers and books. He hoped that the weight had not ruined the silver disc.
The copying process took longer than Nick had expected. The bar on the progress window jerked forwards slowly . . . very slowly. Nick stared at it as if that would speed it up. On the other hand, what would be the point of it going faster? He had to wait till morning, had to sleep – although he couldn’t imagine even closing his eyes. His mind was bursting with questions.
First of all, who’d had the idea of giving his player character Nick’s appearance? Why would someone do such a thing? He still vividly recalled the situation in the ruined tower, and what he had thought about while he was creating Sarius. He hadn’t wanted to make him resemble anybody, not for a second. Especially not someone he was acquainted with.
It has to be someone who knows me. Whom I know. The thought was exciting and unpleasant at the same time. Was it a friend? Colin? Was he disguised as LordNick and not Lelant after all?
The blue progress bar hadn’t even crawled halfway. Nick’s train of thought felt similarly sluggish.
All the other players who knew him would believe that he was LordNick. They would be convinced that they had identified at least one of their fellow fighters. Or one of their opponents, depending on how they looked at it. No one would come up with the equation Sarius = Nick. He wasn’t quite sure whether that pleased him or whether it bothered him.
His computer copied, copied and copied.
Hmm, what name would Jamie choose for himself? And which race? The dwarves came spontaneously to mind, but straightaway Nick decided that was unfair of him. Jamie wasn’t short – he was average height. Anyway, what mattered most was how Jamie wanted to be. Dark and mysterious, like a vampire? Elegant, like a dark elf? Massive and threatening, like a barbarian?
None of them suited him that well. He was just himself. Full stop. But whatever he decided on, Nick was sure he’d be able to recognise Jamie in any get-up – even as Alditha the lizard lady or something. He grinned. Maybe he should still try to ring him? He would understand, and his mobile wouldn’t wake anyone else.
Hopefully.
Or a text. But what to write?
Have 2 meet u, urgent,
preferably right away,
otherwise 2morrow @ 7am?
No, that was impossible. Nick knew how much Jamie loved sleeping in on Sundays. He wouldn’t be up and about before nine o’clock. Nine o’clock! That was horribly late – because who said that Jamie would start playing immediately?
The DVD had finally finished burning. Nick got it out of the drive, wrote ‘Erebos’ on the upper side with a waterproof marker and put it back carefully in its case.
Get to bed, he told himself. But his thoughts wouldn’t stop going round and round: as he was brushing his teeth, in the toilet, and finally under the bedclothes, which smelled of fabric softener.
What happened if he didn’t manage it in time? Then he’d miss the Arena games – so what?
But he did care. It was finally a chance to make progress. The messenger was on his side; Nick could feel it. After all he’d already given Nick some tips, and he’d been right. It was smarter only to pick those opponents he’d already seen in action. LordNick wasn’t one of them, and BloodWork certainly wasn’t. But he’d give Lelant a good thrashing if he got his hands on him, and Feniel as well. Provided they both even found their way into the city.
Nick bored his head deep into the pillow. He’d go over to Jamie’s first thing in the morning and roust him out of bed at nine by ringing the doorbell. That way he wouldn’t lose any time, and Jamie could make a start at once. Perfect. Nick knew his friend would be beside himself with enthusiasm.
‘You’re not serious.’ Two half-opened eyes looked out through the half-opened door. Jamie was wearing a weird striped dressing gown and two odd socks. He must have thrown something on in a hurry in order to answer the door.
‘Oh well, come in. But be quiet, my parents are still asleep.’
Nick’s bad conscience cast only a light grey shadow on his elation. He’d handled it all perfectly. Woken Jamie with the mobile instead of the doorbell, so that Mr and Mrs Cox wouldn’t be sitting bolt upright in bed as well. He tried all the harder now not to make a noise so as not to endanger the success of the mission. He slipped his shoes off and followed Jamie into the kitchen, where there was a delicate aroma of stale fat. A frying pan was sitting on the stove; someone had tried in vain to scrape the burnt mincemeat out of it.
Jamie got himself a glass of water and sat opposite Nick at the kitchen table. Judging by the look of him, he wasn’t quite awake yet.
‘What time is it?’ he murmured.
‘Eight o’clock.’
‘You are completely off your rocker,’ Jamie said and drank the water in one gulp.
‘If I remember rightly,’ he went on, ‘I suggested yesterday that we should meet, but you decided you didn’t have any time. That’s fine. But why . . . why on earth are you standing at my door at the crack of dawn?’
Nick hoped his expression looked mysterious and promising at the same time.
‘I’ve got something for you,’ he said and pulled the DVD out of his jacket pocket. ‘But before I can give it to you, we need to agree on a few things.’
‘What is it?’ Still half asleep, Jamie wiped his hand over his eyes and reached for the case.
Nick pulled it back with a rapid movement. ‘Just a moment. There are a few things we need to sort out first.’
‘Huh? What the hell is this?’ Jamie furrowed his brow angrily. ‘Are you trying to take the piss out of me? First you wake me up, supposedly because it’s something important, and then you start playing some cat-and-mouse game?’
Nick realised he’d gone about things the wrong way. Why did he have to be the one who was unlucky enough to get the recruiting task on the weekend? On a normal school day everything would have been far more straightforward.
‘Okay, once more from the beginning. I’d like to give you something that’s fantastic – in the truest sense of the word. You’ll love it, but you have to listen to me for a second.’
His friend’s face showed neither curiosity nor enthusiasm. ‘It’s that CD that’s been doing the rounds for weeks, isn’t it? That pirate copy?’
‘Uh, well, sort of . . .’
‘Who says I’m interested in it?’
‘You will be, believe me! It’s cool. I wouldn’t have thought it at first either, but it’s incredibly awesome.’ He noticed he was using almost exactly the same words as Brynne had used a few days before, and backed off.
‘Aha.’ Jamie yawned. ‘And what is it exactly?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not possible!’ Nick despe
rately searched for the right words, words that wouldn’t give away too much on the one hand, but would arouse Jamie’s curiosity on the other.
‘That’s how it works. I’m not allowed to tell you anything, and you’re not allowed to tell anybody else. I’ll give you the . . . uh, the DVD, but only if you don’t show anyone.’ Even before Nick had finished speaking he knew that this talk was going wrong. The furrows on Jamie’s forehead had turned into full-blown craters.
‘You’re not allowed to tell me anything – who says so?’
Nick shook his head to get rid of the image of the yellow eyes. It was enough to drive him up the wall. Even if he were to disregard the messenger’s instructions, he still wouldn’t be able to give Jamie the whole picture. He couldn’t explain what made Erebos so unique. Jamie had to experience it himself.
Apart from that, he didn’t dare break the messenger’s rules, as he reluctantly admitted to himself. The messenger would take note of his infringement. The messenger had even guessed that he was thinking about Emily Carver.
‘It doesn’t matter who says so. I can’t tell you anything; that’s part of the rules.’
‘What rules? Listen, Nick, I’m beginning to get a funny feeling about this. I mean – you know me, you know that I’m curious and I’d like to find out the story with these mysterious DVDs, but all this beating around the bush is totally ludicrous. Either you give me the DVD, just like that, or you forget it. I think conditions are stupid.’
‘Well yes, but…’ Nick searched for words. It had been so easy with him. Brynne hadn’t taken three minutes to lure him. ‘But the others are sticking to it too – it’s no skin off their nose.’
‘Oh dear, Nick.’ Jamie stood up, filled his glass with water again and drank it in one gulp. ‘You’re acting completely unlike yourself, you know that? The others! You never used to care about them.’
He sat down at the table again; his eyes were distinctly more alert now.
‘Know what? Give me the thing. Now I do want to know what the story is.’
‘You’re going to stick to the rules? Not talk to anyone about it? Not show it to anyone?’
Jamie shrugged his shoulders, looking amused. ‘Maybe. That depends.’
‘In that case I can’t give it to you.’
‘Fine. Forget it. Then I can go back to bed again.’
‘You’re an idiot, d’you know that?’ The words slipped out of Nick’s mouth before he could consider them. His disappointment over the fact that his superb plan was going to be thwarted by Jamie’s stubbornness had overwhelmed him for a moment. But it was enough to make him scream. Why didn’t Jamie at least want to try it? Why was he letting him down like this? And above all, how was Nick going to get everything done on time?
The word ‘idiot’ had an immediate effect on Jamie’s expression. No more creased forehead; it was smooth as glass.
‘You know, Nick,’ he said. ‘I fear that Mr Watson is right. He thinks that there’s something dangerous doing the rounds at our school, and as from now I’ve started believing that too. I probably should have taken your DVD from you. Then I’d finally know what it’s actually about.’
What garbage, Nick wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. Anger was still choking him, and Jamie’s self-important carry-on made him want to puke. ‘Something dangerous,’ for goodness’ sake.
‘The interesting thing is,’ Jamie went on, ‘that people are obviously all keeping to these . . . rules, as you call them. Nobody is talking. But a few bits of information are beginning to trickle through, Mr Watson says. He’s heard that it’s a game called Erebos.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Nick snapped at him. ‘And what if I tell you that’s complete bullshit?’
‘Well then tell me that,’ Jamie retorted. ‘Whatever, I’m keeping out of it completely. And incidentally, so are a few others who’ve noticed the same things I have.’
Jamie’s mischievous grin flashed for a moment. ‘Nick, you silly goat, forget it, huh? It’s been hyped up; it won’t last. But I’ve got the feeling that the people who get involved are very quickly going to be in way over their heads.’
‘Thanks for the warning, Uncle Jamie,’ Nick mocked, and saw with great satisfaction that he’d wiped the smile from his friend’s face. ‘Little Nicky will be very careful. Man, you have no idea what a fool you’re making of yourself.’
He stood up and walked to the door, this time without being particularly quiet. What was he supposed to do now? Plan B was to ring Emily. The thought made Nick’s stomach feel as if it was shrinking to the size of a walnut. Maybe he should try Adrian first after all. He didn’t have his number, damn it – how come he hadn’t thought of that yesterday?
‘When you’re fed up with this rubbish, give me a call,’ said Jamie, before he shut the door behind Nick.
He was never going to speak another word to Jamie. What a prat. Didn’t know what he was missing, and felt obliged to patronise Nick instead of being pleased.
Now he was going to have to give his gift to someone else. Nervously he fumbled his phone out of his jacket pocket.
Hello Emily, he would say. Or acting cool: Hey, Emily. Nick here. Can you spare me a moment? Can I drop in?
Just the thought of it made his hands sweat. He already knew that Emily had turned down three others – he’d even been there to witness Rashid’s attempt. But I’m going to do it differently. Suddenly he knew what he would say. It was obvious, and it didn’t break the rules.
‘Hello?’ Emily’s voice sounded rough – either with sleep or a cold. Nick hadn’t even thought about what time it was – shit, shit, shit. His first instinct was to hang up again, but that would look even dumber.
‘Hi Emily.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry to disturb you so early, but I need to talk to you briefly.’
‘Now?’ That didn’t sound very enthusiastic.
‘Well, yes, now would be . . . good.’
‘So what is it about?’
Nick prepared himself to launch into his explanation, which was to culminate in the sentence: I want to give you a world. But Emily was already speaking again.
‘Oh, I know – it’s about these wretched CDs, is it? Did you find out any more details? Yesterday someone tried to palm one of them on me for the third time. And they all make such an incredibly big mystery out of it.’
Nick’s laboriously constructed speech fell apart within the space of one breath. Now he had absolutely no idea what he should say. ‘Nick? Are you still there?’
‘Yes. Er . . . why did you actually say no every time?’
‘The same reason as you, I assume. I don’t like the whole carry-on. Besides, the guys who approach me about it are always creepy, and I don’t want any of them giving me anything.’
Nick shut his eyes. He’d been a hair’s breadth away from qualifying as a creepy guy.
‘So?’ Emily went on. ‘What did you find out?’
‘Nothing. I’m sorry. There was something else I wanted to . . .’
‘Aha. What was it?’
Nick’s brain felt completely empty. Desperately he snatched at the first thing he could think of.
‘It’s about . . . Adrian. Adrian McVay. Do you happen to have his phone number?’
The silence at the other end of the line sounded like complete bewilderment. Nick hated himself for his stupidity.
‘Do you mean the thin blond one who always looks a bit frightened? The one whose father took his own life?’
Nick was speechless for a moment. ‘Took his own life’? Since when did Emily express herself like that?
‘Yes. His father killed himself.’
‘I only barely know Adrian by sight. What makes you think that I would have his number?’
Yes, what did? Nick rested his forehead against the nearest wall, strongly tempted to bang his head against it very hard.
‘No reason. I thought you knew each other. I was probably wrong about that. I’m sorry.’
He’d be able to end the conversa
tion in a sec, which would be a great relief in one way. In another way it wouldn’t be, since it hadn’t been a good conversation. He made another attempt to rescue it. ‘Anyway, how have you been? Have you finished your Chemistry assignment?’
Silence. Probably Emily had identified the sudden change of subject as exactly what it was – a clumsy conversation filler.
‘Come on Nick, tell me what you really want.’
To give you Erebos. Or at least hear your voice.
‘I told you, Adrian’s number.’ Yikes, had that sounded snotty? ‘I’m sorry, I thought you had tutored him once, but I must have been wrong.’
‘Yes.’ Emily sounded as though she believed him. He was in luck. Now he could hear noises in the background; there was a rustling as though she was covering the microphone of her phone. Then she was back again. ‘Listen, Nick, I have to go. Dad’s coming to pick me up in half an hour, and I have to help my mother with something before then.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course. Well, enjoy your Sunday.’
He hadn’t got anywhere at all. He had to be at the Arena by midday, and it was nearly nine already. Adrian, he had to get in touch with Adrian.
He opened the address book on his phone and went through it name by name – maybe one of his mates had some connection to Adrian.
He stopped at Henry Scott. Henry played basketball too, and he was in Adrian’s class. Bingo.
Henry picked up after two rings.
‘Hi. Listen, can you give me Adrian McVay’s telephone number?’ ‘Sure. Wait a minute.’
Henry read out a landline number to Nick, which wasn’t ideal. But never mind.
‘What did you want from Adrian?’
Since Henry had been so obliging, Nick couldn’t exactly tell him to take his curiosity and stick it somewhere.
‘Oh, I’ve got something I’d like to give him.’
He could actually sense the sudden attentiveness at the other end.
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