by Thad Ward
London’s face grew red. He breathed hard through his nose. He turned slowly toward the door, then brought his fist back hard, stopping an inch in front of Ike’s face. Ike could feel the wind from the aborted attack and see the details of the peace bond wreathing the back of London’s hand.
Ike mostly succeeded in not flinching. “We both know what will happen if you try that,” he said as calmly as he could manage. Logically, he knew there was nothing London could do to him. This was a game, so there’d be no lasting harm no matter what happened, and London would get far worse from the peace bond activating.
“Heh,” London said with a condescending smirk. His eyes narrowed. “Isaac… Fennell,” he said as if he were reading. “Stupid name. Only seven health, too. Sure hope nothing happens to you.” London turned and strode toward the door, snapping his fingers at the goons who nervously fell into step behind him.
Ike exhaled, deflating back into his chair. He closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose, trying to will the tension away. “That right there, Dusty. That’s another reason I have no desire to open a shop. Monsters are so much easier to deal with.”
“No kidding,” Ada said. “What a creep. He winked at me.” Ada dry heaved a little. “I feel like I need a shower.”
“Even so,” Dusty said, “you might want to grow some eyes in the back of your head. That one’s just a big ol’ ball of toxic masculinity and insecurity, the sort that holds a grudge.”
“Aww, come on,” Ike said dismissively. “All I did was not buy into his vanity. It’s not like I…” Ike trailed off, his eyes growing wide. He looked at Ada. “Do you remember what he said about leveling?”
“That he was level five?” Ada asked. “Oh, I just thought it was pretty obvious that was a lie.”
“No,” Ike said. “The other thing. The thing about the wolf?”
Ada’s eyes grew wide as Ike’s meaning clicked into place. “The wolf we saved from the bear trap,” she said quietly.
Ike looked toward the door where London had disappeared. “The sort to hold a grudge, huh? I think I need to close up shop and get my enchantments in order.”
Chapter 18
Upgrading equipment
B reakfast had left Ike full until well after lunch, so he grabbed a quick dinner at Fu’s Chinese stand and told Fu the good news. The imugi was jovial as ever, confirming that the ale would be ready for Dusty’s big show. Ike had already returned the songbird statuette to Dusty; it flew over their heads parroting the same news Ike and Fu were discussing. Even outdoors, the thing was loud. It got the job done, though.
Ike returned to the Weir Crest. Maisy seemed to be flitting about the common room, polishing and admiring Ike’s handiwork. The place practically sparkled. Angus was drinking by the stairs, sniffing and giving strange looks to his flagon. Ada and Dusty were packing up, having finished their respective projects.
“I’m going to turn in,” Ike said with a half-hearted wave to Ada and Dusty. “Good night.”
“Why so early?” Dusty said. “Had enough of me already?” she added, flashing her teeth.
“No, I’m just beat,” Ike said. “I don’t normally handle customer service at my day job, so today was a lot. Besides, I need to… uh, think about the best way to use my new enchantments.” Ike caught himself before spilling the beans about his custom enchanting interface to Dusty. “I could use some quiet to concentrate is all.”
Dusty shrugged. “Okay, hon. Sweet dreams,” she said, turning back to the fabric she was folding up.
Ike couldn’t help but notice the worried look on Ada’s face or the fact that she didn’t say anything. He got the impression she might have if they’d been alone like the previous night.
Ike closed the door to his room and slipped out of his armor, setting it in a neat pile along with his cloak and weapons. It felt good to get out of them. The cold wasn’t as much of a problem now that he was wearing proper layers, but he tended to get sweaty under all that wool. He noticed the bedside table that he’d hacked with his sword and used Minor Repair to fix it as he’d promised.
Ike started by sitting on the bed and considering what he had to work with. Compared to his first night in the dungeon, it was a lot. With the bracers counting as a single item, all three pieces of armor had room for one enchantment apiece. His partisan and short sword made two more. And, with a few exceptions, most of his articles of clothing could hold one. The ring could hold two. The boots counted as a single item and could hold one. His pants and underclothes, however, couldn't be enchanted at all. He guessed this was by design, chuckling as he thought about the sort of risque enchantments that might work on underwear.
All told, Ike could put as many as twelve enchantments on his gear. That didn't include other things he wanted to buy before traveling, like a proper backpack, or incidental items he might create on the fly, like the rat figurines.
Now that Ike knew what he could enchant, he took stock of the mana he had available. Between the cloak on Ada’s thief, Idalia’s six jars, the two letters from the gamemaster, and Warren’s pin, he had a total of ten mana from items he’d acquired. If he included six of his own, that made a budget of sixteen. It was enough to enchant every piece of gear with something cheap and leave a bit left over, but he’d gotten the most mileage out of the more expensive enchantments like Minor Biding.
“First thing’s first,” Ike said. “That map enchantment looked too handy to pass up. Three mana’s too rich for my taste, though. I wonder if I can manage a discount.”
It took Ike a minute to work out a proper medium. He eventually used Minor Reshape to create a crude slate that could accept Lesser Cartography, then started customizing. All he was trying to do was get a cheaper, less powerful version of the same thing. Cutting the radius from ten kilometers to five seemed to do the trick.
Wooden Slate has gained the enchantment: Minor Cartography
Wooden Slate’s remaining enchantment capacity: 0 / 1
Mana: 7 / 7 (-6)
You have learned the enchantment: Minor Cartography
You have gained experience.
Ike watched as the slate’s surface slowly resolved into a view of Weir’s nearby streets. Despite its lower range, the enchantment was still plenty useful and a bargain at one point of mana drain. He immediately harvested the enchantment, making a mental note to add a proper piece of parchment to his shopping list.
Mana: 6 / 8 (-5)
“Okay, what other low-hanging fruit do I have?” Ike said aloud. “I guess I should look through the code for all of the new enchantments while I’m at it. Maybe something will jump out at me.”
The Blood Trail enchantment from Venin’s map turned out to be troublesome. Ike got some idea of the code used to locate the owner of the blood, which was useful, but the enchantment itself seemed to be heavily reliant on the Cartography enchantment. “I could probably put together something like a blood compass, but that doesn’t seem nearly as useful,” Ike noted.
Minor Daydrinking was enlightening if a bit dull. It seemed to accelerate health regeneration in response to the environment. “If I reverse the condition and apply it to Glow, I could probably make an item that lights up whenever it’s dark,” Ike mused. “And health regen is the closest thing I’ve seen to a healing ability, which is handy in any game.”
It was the restriction on Minor Daydrinking that piqued Ike’s interest the most, though. Nature Attunement seemed to be some sort of skill. Whatever the skill did, the restriction had been added on. Other restrictions he’d seen, like summoning effects being restricted to mages, were built into the effect itself. Ike beamed. “If I use this right, I can add any skill requirement to an enchantment to lower its cost. Never mind if it’s a skill I happen to already have. That might as well be cheating.”
Confidentiality and Consignment seemed to be written by the same programmer. There were clear similarities with the way things were named and spaced, to say nothing of the comments. It was a common practice
among programmers to mix in short bits of inert code that held useful notes. Sometimes this meant explaining logic or highlighting nuance. Other times it meant recording a problem for later follow-up or apologizing for shortcuts or workarounds, often referred to as “hacks.” The way a person programmed said a lot about them. “This guy’s good, but his spelling’s atrocious,” Ike said, shaking his head. “Clear, concise, organized code, but it’s like he mashed the keyboard writing his comments.”
Ike turned his attention away from the aesthetics of the code to the actual content of the two enchantments. Confidentiality tweaked the visibility of text. Consignment prevented physical interaction, essentially making an object insubstantial. Both applied to anyone who couldn’t use the item. The restriction to a specific individual seemed promising until Ike realized it did nothing to reduce the cost. “I can think of some uses for invisibility and intangibility, even if they have to be limited. Too complicated to dig into now, though.”
Ike realized he’d been sitting rigidly for a while now. He flexed his shoulders and cracked his neck to one side. “What else did I pick up? There was that Spiritual Weapon enchantment, which was nice enough, but I wonder…” He slipped on his bracers and sat back down to concentrate for the better part of an hour.
Studded Leather Bracers have gained the enchantment: Shield of Faith
Studded Leather Bracers have been renamed: Guardian Bracers
Guardian Bracers’s remaining enchantment capacity: 0 / 1
Mana: 7 / 7 (-6)
You have learned the enchantment: Shield of Faith
You have gained experience.
Ike admired his handiwork, then activated the enchantment. A semi-transparent beveled shield sprung into existence on his left arm where he’d carried his wooden shield, then floated in front of him, drifting gently through the air. It seemed to move of its own volition unless he was actively directing it. “Well, I guess I won’t have to give up on shields now,” he said to himself.
A gentle knock came at the bedroom door. “Come in,” Ike called.
The door opened and Ada walked in. Her eyes fell on the shield and opened wide. “Wow. That’s flashy.”
Ike reached out a hand and rapped against the shield. The metallic clang resounded with an odd echo. “Yeah. Neat, huh? I thought I could do with some protection.”
Ada stared at Ike for an awkward moment, her cheeks gradually beginning to flush.
“Sorry,” Ike said, closing his eyes in embarrassment. He dismissed the shield with a wave of his hand. “What did you need?”
Ada looked down and held her hands behind her back. “I’m… not sure how to say this, so I’ll just say it. I’m worried about you.”
Ike took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Why?”
“The way you started in a dungeon was weird, but I just wrote it off,” Ada said. “There’s so much about the game that people haven’t discovered yet. There’s a guy online claiming to have found a dragon egg. Another I read about who built a boat and is trying to find the edge of the world map but hasn’t had any luck after hundreds of kilometers. Some wacko who claims to have impregnated an NPC. The list goes on.”
Ike considered that. “It seems different than other games I’ve played. You talked about it being run by an AI, though. It makes sense that it might result in some unique game design choices.”
Ada shook her head. “Maybe. But that’s not the only reason I’m worried. When’s the last time you logged out, Ike?”
There it was: The question Ike had been dreading. He thought about his non-disclosure agreement. It only said he couldn’t tell Ada he was unable to log out. “I haven’t. I’ve been in the game three days straight now,” he said carefully.
Ada spread her arms and stared at Ike. “And you don’t see a problem with that? Ike, I’m not trying to judge. Really. But that seems unhealthy. Even if you are using a long-term VDX rig. Hell, even if you’re independently wealthy and live alone and don’t have any real-life stuff to take care of.”
Ike looked down. Hearing Ada say it like that just underscored the worries that had been on his mind since he’d woken up in the game. The things he’d been doing to occupy his time – clearing the dungeon, traveling, making gear, even fixing up the tavern – all of them were just convenient ways to distract himself so he didn’t have to dwell on it. “I know,” he said after a long pause. “I really do.”
Ada sat on the end of the bed and faced Ike. “Now you’ve got people after you. Some weird CEO. That jerk and his goons. Probably others, too. You’ve got a name after that goblin attack and all the enchanting.”
Ike didn’t meet Ada’s gaze. He regretted signing the NDA. He wanted to tell her all about what was going on. “It’s just a game,” he said half-heartedly. “What’s the worst they could do?”
“More than I care to think,” Ada said seriously. “There aren’t many safeguards in True Calling. Even the peace bonds aren’t foolproof, and they only work inside Weir. Injuries go away, but the pain is real enough here. Think how easy it would be to hurt someone.”
Ike stared at his feet. “Right,” he said. “What do you think I should do?”
Ada furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. “Log out for a while? Take a breather outside of your rig. Let some of the attention die down. I’ll be back on even after my vacation’s over.”
Ike shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. Every response that came to mind broke the agreement. “That’s good advice,” he said finally, looking up at her. “Thank you for worrying about me.”
Ada searched Ike’s expression. She seemed to wait to see if he had more to say, then looked sad when he didn’t. “I just want to help, Ike,” she pleaded. “Don’t you trust me?”
Ike gave her a pained expression. “I do, Ada. It’s just… I’d tell you more if I could. Any chance you could drop it?”
Ada looked genuinely hurt. “Okay. Sure,” she said, getting up suddenly. “I get it. I’m just some girl you met a few days ago.” She rose and turned toward the door.
“Ada, wait,” Ike said, rising as well. Ada stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “Would you go on a date with me?”
Ada looked over her shoulder. Ike could see a tear in her eye. “Seriously? You don’t want to tell me what’s going on with you but you want to go on a date? Your timing couldn’t be worse.”
“I know,” Ike said hurriedly. “Look, the two aren’t related. I can’t tell you more than I have, but I like you. The whole thing with Dusty’s drag show.” Ike scratched the back of his head and looked away shyly. “I started helping with it because I wanted to take you. What do you say?”
Ada wiped her eyes without turning around. “Okay,” she said after a long pause. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Promise me something, though?”
“Sure,” Ike said. “What?”
Ada turned back toward him. She still had tears in her eyes. “Promise me you’ll tell me why you won’t log out? Whenever you can, I mean?”
Ike nodded. “I promise,” he said. “And I’ll watch my back while I’m online. Scout’s honor.” He held a hand up and put the other over his heart like he was taking an oath.
“You’d better,” Ada said with a very faint giggle. “I need to go to bed. See you tomorrow,” she said. Her eyes lingered on Ike for a second or two before she walked out the door.
“Good night,” Ike said weakly as she shut the door behind her. He sat back down on the bed, replaying the conversation in his head. On the bright side, she’d agreed to the date, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d wounded her. It left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
“What do you think, Stony?” Ike said to the glowing rock on his bedside table. “I get the feeling I messed up.”
Stony gave no reply.
“I guess you’re right,” Ike said, nodding. “Nothing else to do but try to make up for it. Let’s get back to work.”
Chapter 19
Helping the needy
&
nbsp; I ke’s first night in the game had been nerve-wracking and uncomfortable, sleeping out in the open on the hard, cold earth. His second night had been an improvement – anything with a bed and four walls was luxurious by comparison – but he’d still woken to the goblin attack. Tired as he’d been, it had still taken him some time to calm down and fall back asleep afterward.
Ike’s third night was uninterrupted but not exactly restful. His dreams were vivid and chaotic, filled with fire, vicious beasts, angry shouting, and pain. When he finally woke from them, he shot up in bed drenched in a cold sweat. He looked down to see that his short sword was in the bed with him. He picked it up and blinked the sleep from his eyes. “Either I fell asleep enchanting or picked it up while sleepwalking,” he mumbled.
Ike took his time getting ready, letting the grogginess fade as he put on his gear. He saw a new letter on his bedside table but didn’t feel awake enough to deal with it, so he put it in his pouch with the others before heading downstairs. To his surprise, nobody was up and about. He checked behind the bar, finding a basket with some day-old biscuits wrapped in cloth. They were on the stale side, but he didn’t feel like waiting around for Maisy, so he grabbed a pair of them and left a copper tenth on the counter before heading out into the street.
The sun was just rising at the end of the thoroughfare. Ike chewed on his first biscuit and took his time strolling along, stopping to look at the various shops and the wares on display through their windows. Most of the buildings fronting the street were commercial: A candlemaker’s shop, a stable, a cobbler’s shop, a bakery, and the like. Sadly, Ike didn’t see or smell any signs that the baker was about his business yet.
Scattered among these were buildings of a more official sort. A barracks with a sign matching the same shield emblem the guards wore stood near the western gate. Halfway up the street was a plain-looking building with a sign bearing a gavel, no doubt the office of Weir’s magistrate. A bank stood nearer the market square, unmistakable with its grander construction and sign bearing stacked coins. Ike wondered if it offered a safe place for players to store valuables, a common function in many games he’d played.
