The Crown and the Key

by Andrey Vasilyev

  “In that case, welcome. Go ahead over and sit on the stoop, though I’d avoid making that guy mad. See the way he’s squinting? He hasn’t killed anybody yet today.”

  Your clan has a new member: Romul, the treasurer.

  If you win his respect, he may give you some interesting quests.

  Interesting—I’ll have to tell everyone to be nice to him. I had more than enough quests, but they were welcome to pick them up.

  Romul grabbed his sack and walked over to the house; I headed toward Krolina, who was sitting on a bench thinking about something.

  “Well, did I do a good job?” I asked proudly.

  She looked at me. “I’m not sure yet, especially since you sent them away.”

  “Yes, I did. The other village is going to be safe now, and I think they’re going to pick up a good hundred men over the next week. It’ll be more than a village; it’ll be a reserve base.”

  “From your ears…” Krolina rubbed her eyes wearily. “Still, having a bunch of clods like the inquisitors for friends… You’re probably right, though.”

  “Maybe not such clods,” I replied, telling her about the adventures I’d had in Kadrans. The only part I left out was the player I’d seen—she didn’t need to know that right then.

  “Damn, that’s impressive. Are you sure those Lords of Death won’t be coming here? Things are bad enough as it is.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows? It would be interesting as a player, but we definitely don’t need that as a clan, at least, not yet. We’ll see what happens.”

  “You’re right about that,” Krolina said with a yawn. “I’ll have to see what there is about them on the forums.”

  “One more thing, my dear friend,” I said, deciding to cheer her up. “Open your exchange.”

  Kro smiled and followed my instructions, and I sent her the ring without the least misgivings. Money is one thing, but you need to keep the people you have working for you happy and engaged.

  “O-oh,” Krolina shrieked. “Isn’t that a nice little toy!”

  “I guess so.” I got up from the bench, realizing that I was no longer a concern of hers. “I’m going to go visit one more person before it gets too late. Oh, right—where’s Lane?”

  “Well, it’s just…” Kro pulled herself away from the ring and looked at me apologetically. “He left.”

  Chapter Four

  On how things don’t always go the way you expect them to.

  “What do you mean, he left?” It took a shake of my head for the information to sink in.

  Kro looked away. “Just that. He wandered around the house for a little while thinking about something, threw up his arms, asked Abigail for a cloak, and left.”

  “What cloak?” The whole thing was beyond me.

  “Yellow, pretty cute,” Krolina said, perking up. “It had the clan’s crest on it. By the way, I’m not a big fan; we should change it.”

  “And? What happened then?”

  “That was it.” Kro went back to the ring, slipping it on a finger with a happy grunt. “He took the redhead with him, they asked me for a couple portal scroll, and then they left. Really, what is this? NPCs asking players for scrolls? The end of civilization.”

  “You’re telling me,” I replied. I felt a little better, first of all, because Lennox was off with Lane, and, second, because they’d asked for two scrolls. Wherever they were going, at least one of them was planning on coming back.”

  “Chic?” Kro asked, flashing her hand with the new ring. She actually had one kind of ring or another on just about every finger.

  “Absolutely. As beautiful as a spring sunset.”

  “I think he’s coming back. What else is he going to do?” Krolina spun the ring around her finger. “He was probably off to talk with the local elders. Really, he’s a good NPC, exactly what you’d expect of a king without a kingdom.”

  “As long as they don’t kill him. The people around here are direct like that, so they’d be fine just up and slitting his throat. Any little thing and they whip their swords out.”

  “After that, they dance, toss silver coins around, and shoot arrows into the air,” Krolina snorted. “You have a quest for Lane, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Has it failed?”

  “No, of course not,” I said, realizing where she was going. “It’s just that—”

  “It’s just that the situation is out of your control. You need to learn how to deal with that, kid. This is a big bowl of oatmeal you cooked up, and you keep dumping milk and oats in, hoping to dish it out before it spills over. Don’t count on that.”

  “You think so?” I wasn’t a fan—the flighty, carefree elf girl had turned me inside out.

  Krolina stretched her slender legs. “I’m sure of it. Today, we had players from at least twenty top clans dropping by to see what’s what, probably, to see if they should snap our necks while we’re still little. A good hundred people asked to join the clan, too, and at least thirty of them were plants. Maybe more—I’m no Stierlitz.”

  “What about the rest?” I asked quickly.

  “Bunch of tourists and idiots. I don’t need anyone like that.”

  “That’s a shame. We could use some people,” I sighed.

  “But it’s important who we bring in, no? Slav is the kind of guy we need; there’s no point bringing in people looking for a thrill or a few titles. Better bring in one person a week, but someone who will really do some good around here, than a herd of sheep.”

  “Agreed, absolutely. We have less than a hundred openings, so that’s especially true.”

  Kro squinted at me. “What do you mean?”

  I explained about the limits we were facing, and then fell silent. She got up from the bench we were sitting on and cuffed me in the back of the head. It wasn’t that hard, though it grabbed my attention, and she’d looked around before giving it to me. At least, she doesn’t want to humiliate me.

  “You should have told me about that at the very beginning,” she announced indignantly. “How could you have forgotten?”

  “I just didn’t think about it,” I replied, rubbing the back of my head. There was no reason for me to be upset with her—she was absolutely right. “Just lots on my mind…”

  Krolina sat back down. “That’s just it. You haven’t read the clan management instructions, have you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Give it here,” she replied, opening her exchange. “I’ll read it, and then tell you what it says. There’s obviously no point waiting for you to do it.”

  Once again, she was right on the money—I just didn’t have time. I hadn’t even checked out the parchment I’d gotten as a reward for finishing that quest. And thinking about everything I had to do…that was a road I didn’t want to go down.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” Krolina purred after she made sure I’d sent her the instructions. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me what you got yourself into sooner or later. You’re obviously involved in something, and I’m not going to push, but tell me when you make up your mind. Not everyone; just me, at least, for now.”

  “All right, I will. But not right now, okay?”

  She stretched. “Like I said, I’m not pushing you. We don’t have time for anything else, anyway—next week, we’re even going to make some ground as a clan or cease to be one. It’s pretty simple, actually. Natural selection.”

  I’d gotten lucky with her. The only problem was that she was the kind of person who was going to get bored and leave eventually. We had a ways to go before that, however, and things were anything but boring, especially if my plans turned out, so I wasn’t worried. But where did Lane go, damn it?

  “The most natural of selections, but we still don’t have many people. It’s just a bunch of NPCs, you, and me.”

  “I hear you,” Krolina said, shaking a finger at me. “There aren’t many of us, but we’re a great start!”

  Something banged near the fence, a shower of sparks shot upw
ard, and we heard Tren-Bren’s happy, childlike cry.

  “The best,” I sighed. “I’m just glad she hasn’t burned the village down. She’s doing the whole MacPratt clan’s job for them.”

  “Oh, I think she’s more confirmation of what I’m saying than anything else,” Kro replied calmly. “We can always just send her into enemy camps to spread mass panic.”

  “No, can’t do that,” I replied sadly. “That would be a war crime under the Geneva Convention.”

  Then, it was my turn to get up from the bench and stretch.

  “Okay, I’m out. There’s one more big thing I need to get done. Oh, speaking of which…”

  I looked around, didn’t see who I was looking for, and turned back to Krolina, who had already pulled out the clan guidelines.

  “Have you seen the bookkeepers? Where are they?”

  Krolina waved in the direction of our residence. “Sure, they found a room in there for themselves, and they’re sitting talking about something.”

  I thanked her and walked over to the house, thinking to myself about how I was doing the same thing in the game that I was in real life: clambering up onto the shoulders of a woman and letting her do the work. I may have been busy running around and handling different things, but the ones making the actual decisions were fragile creatures I was leaving on the front lines. There was no point working on the global issues that were my concern, after all, without all the dozens of little decisions they were taking care of. If it hadn’t been for Vika, the Fayroll Times would have collapsed, and Zimin wouldn’t have been giving me the time of day; in the game, it would have been chaos without Kro. That’s probably no good. I needed to change things around, but I wasn’t sure when I’d have time for that.

  The bookkeepers really had sequestered a fairly spacious room in the first wing. On the door were two brass signs: Accounting Commission and Do Not Enter Without Knocking. They’d even added a deadbolt.

  I knocked, and Brother Open stuck his head out of the door.

  “I need to talk with Brother Mikh.”

  He nodded, and the man himself stepped out into the corridor. They didn’t invite me into the room, something that didn’t bother me in the least.

  “First, I’d like to thank you for your help,” I said, holding out my hand. “If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten out of there.”

  “Oh, please,” he replied. Still, he shook my hand. It was a powerful shake, too. “It isn’t worth figuring out who helped who in situations like that. Anyway, you’re my boss, so that’s my job.”

  I guess he was the one assigned to protect me. Brother Yur was protecting his investment, something I was completely in favor of.

  “I have a request, too,” I said, getting down to business. “I won’t be here tomorrow, and there may be inquisitors waiting for me in the ravine we were in at noon. The guards we have around Kadrans are sending them there, so can you go bring them here? I’ll give you the portal scrolls.”

  “Why not?” Brother Mikh shrugged, and I noticed he was back in his black robe. “I’ll go pick them up.”

  “Do you know how to use these?” I asked as I handed him the two scrolls.

  He stashed them in a sleeve. “Of course. What should I do with those guys?”

  “There’s a young warrior around named Kale. Tell him they need to go where he took the ones who came today.”

  I thought about giving the bookkeeper another couple scrolls, though I decided against it. The old head of the Inquisition was one thing; inveterate inquisitors were quite another. They’d be fine.

  “Have him send one of the local boys as a guide—he can stay here.”

  “Got it,” Brother Mikh nodded. “And where are you going? Should one of us come with you? I can come, myself.”

  “No, no need for that. It’s safe where I’m going, but thanks.”

  We parted ways, and it was only when I was walking out onto the porch that I was struck by an unexpected thought. How could a player not be penalized for killing other players?

  Back in the city square, I’d seen and ignored a bunch of cocoons left over from where players had died. There was the valiant archer who’d been torn to shreds, too. Needless to say, I’d been a bit busy to pay attention. The players had been shattered by the power of the blow from the dark, unhuman horde, which had been given orders to slaughter everyone in the city. Technically, they’d died by the claws and fangs of the werewolves or ogres, though the order had been given by a player, making him complicit in their deaths. Either you could fool the system by having third parties kill the players you had your eye on or there was a bug that guy was exploiting. Interesting.

  What I wondered about next was if I should tell the bosses about that. Ultimately, I decided that I didn’t just have to; it was imperative. They couldn’t have missed out on what was going on. They probably knew I was there, too, which meant that I needed to come rushing in, spittle flying, and tell them all about the slaughter in Kadrans. My zeal, I thought, might even be good enough to earn a New Year’s bonus. I’ll bet I’m going to need some extra cash come tomorrow and our shopping expedition. Sure, they splash big signs everywhere mentioning about how New Year’s sales are the best of the year, but everything is actually more expensive. It’s just that people don’t check the price tags.

  I took out a portal scroll, glanced appreciatively at Krolina, who was flipping through the manual with interest, and decided that I really needed to read it, as well.

  She apparently felt my eyes on her, because she jumped up, clapped herself on the forehead, and walked over.

  “Oh, there’s one more thing: Miurat stopped by looking to talk to you. What do you have going on with him?”

  “Nothing,” I replied warily. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “No,” Krolina shrugged. “He did say something strange, though. He asked me to tell you that the seasonal sale is over, and there won’t be any more of them. What’s that about?”

  “He likes talking in hints, and sometimes it’s easier to understand our fairy than it is to understand him. One thing’s for sure—he won’t be coming to help us.”

  “Screw him. He’s a shady character—I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard about him. They said he’s a bad egg.”

  “They’re right about that. Let’s just hope it ends there.”

  “Hey, Snuff!” the girl suddenly yelled, waving a hand and making me jump. “Get over here!”

  A short warrior with a tattoo over his face and two sabers poking out from behind his back walked over. Ah, one of Reineke’s protégés.

  “This is Snuff,” Krolina said, pointing at him. “Go ahead and send him an invitation.”

  “Hi, there,” I said. “Has Kro explained what’s going on?”

  “Sure has,” Snuff replied as he scratched his cheek. “Sounds good, definitely won’t get boring—you guys have a circus around here.”

  “That’s for sure.” I sent him an invitation.

  “What about the second guy?” I asked Krolina once Snuff was gone. “Lis was going to send us two, no?”

  “No good,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Slippery, greedy…”

  “Then forget it. We don’t need any greedy types around here—we’re greedy enough as it is. Okay, I’m off.”

  Kro nodded and went back to her reading. I spat, happy that I hadn’t had to deal with Miurat personally, and opened a portal.

  ***

  The Hounds of Death fortress was as forbidding and majestic as ever, and it didn’t look like anything had changed since my previous visit. Oh, there’s one change. No sooner had I stepped out of the portal than I was surrounded by three clan fighters. One of them, whose name was Sandr, I took to be the patrol leader, since he started right in on me.

  “Who, where, why?”

  “Hagen, to see the Gray Witch, drink some tea,” I replied, dangling the clan friendship ring I had under his nose.

  “Yeah, Sandr,�
� another of the guards chimed in. “I remember him—he was on one of the Mice when we attacked the Hearts.”

  Sandr ignored his comment. “Is the mistress expecting you?”

  “Of course.” It wasn’t a lie since she’d told me to come whenever I wanted. “Why don’t you just ask Flavius to come out, if he’s here, or maybe Fitz? Time is money.”

  “Hmm…” Sandr looked at me dubiously. “Okay, follow me.”

  No, something had changed in the fortress. There were guards at the doors, a ballista I didn’t remember, a reinforced gate, and the fact that I was being escorted through the halls by an entire cohort. All three of the patrol members were right there with me, two of their swords jabbing me in the ribs. It didn’t take much reckoning to realize that in their plans for peace, they were preparing for war.

  We walked down corridors and through passages, ending up at a familiar office. Flavius, who was apparently always logged into the game, greeted me with a nod.

  “Flavius, do you know this guy?” Sandr asked sharply.

  Flavius smiled. “Of course. That’s Master Hagen, formerly of the Thunderbirds, personal friend of the mistress, with permission to enter at any time.”

  “No offense?” Sandr said, looking me in the eye.

  “None at all,” I replied sincerely. “Just doing your job.”

  The three set off, leaving Flavius to glance at me with an upset look on his face.

  “Sadly, the mistress has a visitor right now, and she asked not to be disturbed.”

  “It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.” I turned down what he said was a delicious, old vintage, and sat down in a chair in the corner.

  I wonder what’s in the game for that guy? He didn’t do any quests and didn’t run around to all the different locations. He just stayed in the fortress. People come in all stripes, I guess.

  I decided to use my time wisely and pulled the cloak I’d gotten from Martin out of my bag.

  Inquisitor Cloak