“That hand is as slippery as they come, Rogue, liberating purses and escaping the grip of constables. Make sure it holds mine fast.”
She gripped it, and the spell began its work. The orb in Gerontius’s hand glowed brighter, gaining strength as the wizard chanted the final words of the Astral Transport incantation.
The air about them began to shimmer just as the Komach’Kreel finally found them, roaring so deep and loud the ground beneath their feet shook. It grinned in victory, before howling in fury as it watched the party fade into nothingness.
THE NEW WORLD
Although Gerontius had traveled from one plane to another before, he had never gotten used to it. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have warned the others as he felt the usual sensation of being pulled apart from all sides, of thousands of tiny fingers picking at him. His eyes were closed, but he could sense the terror coursing through the others.
Jandia clung to Gerontius’s hand with a desperation heretofore unknown to her. Barbarians know no fear in the face of the enemy, but this was a faceless foe, pulling them tumbling and lurching through an unremitting blackness.
Slowly, the vibrations buffeting their bodies seemed to subside, and the darkness began to fade. Their senses grasped for the familiar, anything to do with the corporeal world, a world with substance and sound, not the empty void they had been traveling through. Then their feet found purchase, and it appeared they had arrived at their destination, wherever that was.
Jandia was the first to speak. “Is it safe to open our eyes?”
“I believe so, but take care. I don’t know where we transported to,” answered Gerontius.
“It sounds quiet,” murmured Mirak. “Perhaps we have come to safety.”
Torgrim pushed his helmet up over his brow and opened his eyes. “We are not in Demos.”
“You are as wise as ever, Dwarf,” snorted Bram, “for stating the obvious.”
They had landed, it appeared, in a small chamber, perhaps ten feet by ten feet. The ceiling was high, and there was an unlit fireplace on the wall facing them. Paintings of unknown lands were hanging on the walls, and the room was furnished with finely wrought couches and chairs.
“This is no cottage,” said Torgrim.
Jandia raised her nose. “I smell food.” She gestured to a long table before them, littered with papers, yellow sticks of wood, and mysterious-looking books with bright pictures of dragons and fighters and wizards on their covers. And there were bowls filled with food like none they had ever seen—puffy white little globes and red thickly corded strands, as well as thin yellow triangles.
Bram reached down to try one before his hand was slapped away by Mirak. “We do not know if this is poison. What if it’s a feast left for the gods?”
Torgrim stroked his beard and took in the rest of the chamber. He turned to the others.
“Which god or goddess this may serve, I do not know. But I do know this.” He pointed to the far corner of the room, where five small beings were cowering. “We are not alone.”
The vibrations had stopped, and Ralph opened his eyes. He wondered if this was what it was like to be unconscious. Clearly what he was seeing couldn’t be there. He was vaguely aware of bodies pressing against his, but he was frozen in place with the thought that if he simply waited, things would return to normal. For what felt like a long time, nothing moved, and an eerie quiet settled over the room.
Then the silence was broken. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” It was the unmistakable creak of Noel’s voice.
“Ye-e-s.” Jojo. Sounding very un-Jojo-like.
“What’s going on?” quavered Cammi.
“RPG? What did you do?” Persephone was shaking him, pulling his arm.
Ralph turned to the others. He saw his own fear and confusion mirrored in their faces. “I’m not sure….There has to be some explanation….I mean, there has to be…”
Across the room, there was the low buzz of voices. Ralph looked over to try to make sense of the five beings now standing in the entry to the living room of his family’s apartment.
One of them appeared to be about their age, as he was as small as they were. But he had long sideburns elegantly shaped along his high cheekbones and carried himself like an adult. He had a braid going down his back, a pointed nose, and a small smile on his face as his eyes darted about the room.
He was dressed simply, in a white shirt with a brown leather vest fastened with what looked like brass buckles. Embroidered on the vest was a pattern of tree branches and birds. His pants were brown leggings, stitched rudely on the sides. His belt held a small pouch and two scabbards, with a dagger in each. One had a white handle, the other black.
Next to him was one of the most imposing figures Ralph had ever seen.
It was a tall woman, balancing on the balls of her feet, her eyes fiery and fierce. Her rippling muscles were barely covered by the protective leather sleeves on her arms and by shin guards. She had a few pieces of rude cloth covering her top and below her waist, leaving her impressive abdomen and thighs bare. Her mane of thick red hair was pulled back and held in place with a scrap of animal hide with a bone through it.
What caught the eye first, though, was her scarlet cape, held at her throat by a gold clasp in the shape of a raven’s head. Well, that and the gigantic two-handed sword she was holding up in front of her.
“Stay your sword, Barbarian,” he heard a cool voice say.
The owner of the voice was a tall, elegant woman standing next to the swordswoman. Clad in a bright blue tunic with runes stitched through it and fine silk tights, she carried a bow, and strapped to her back appeared to be a quiver of arrows and some sort of small harp. Her jet-black hair was streaked with gray and cascaded down her back freely. Her arched eyebrows and bright blue eyes made her look quite beautiful, until you looked down and saw the fanglike lower canine teeth jutting out of her jaw.
A grunt came from next to her.
There was another little man, but unlike the lithe and graceful first one, he was burly and thick-necked, with bushy eyebrows and black eyes glowering under his simple helmet. He had a finely braided beard, with a bulbous nose above it. He wore chain mail, and beaten metal armor encased his lower body and legs. In his left hand was a huge and fearsome mallet-like hammer covered in metal studs. A great gold medallion hung around his neck.
“Wizard, this is your doing. Are they friend or foe?” he growled.
The person he was addressing was slim and pale, with fog-gray hair forming a widow’s peak on his brow, pulled back to reveal sharply pointed ears. His lips were thin, and his slightly upturned eyes looked bemused. He wore a moss-green robe, secured tightly with a silver clasp in the shape of a leaf. Visible below the robe were beautifully tooled leather boots. Over all was a hooded cloak of a darker shade of green, which was thrown back to reveal a beautifully wrought curved sword in the graceful elvish style. What looked like a very old book, with brass on each corner, hung from a belt around his waist.
“Perhaps we shall do well to ask,” the man in green said simply.
The small wiry man in brown took a few steps toward Ralph and the others. He peered at them and called back to his companions. “They seem to be human younglings. At least, this is how they have chosen to appear to us.”
“Okay, this is officially weird,” said Persephone. “What is going on?”
The man in brown bowed to them. He held his hands open, as if to show he held no weapon. “We are travelers from another place. Do you understand?”
While the others just nodded, Ralph heard himself say, “Yes, we understand. Please excuse us for a moment, will you?”
He backed his way toward the sliding doors that led out of the living room, the others close on his heels. The five intruders watched them, with expressions ranging from smiles (the small man and the one they calle
d “Wizard”) to scowls (the scary-looking woman and the little guy with the crazy beard). Ralph smiled back, closed the sliding doors, and faced the others.
Jojo had pulled out her phone. “I’m calling 911.”
“Wait,” said Noel, “we don’t know who they are.”
“Did you see that sword?” asked Persephone, eyes wide. “I’m with Jojo.”
“They didn’t make us stay there,” reasoned Noel. “Don’t you think if they were criminals, they wouldn’t just let us walk out like this?”
“Um, I don’t want to get off track,” Cammi said quietly, “but what was up with those costumes?”
Ralph nodded. “So there’s a clue right there. I mean, that’s some pretty serious cosplay going on there.”
“Maybe they’re here from RoDCon,” said Noel. “Like, when you rolled the dice it sends out a signal and they’re here to award you with something. Like they found you through GPS.”
“Yeah, but how would they get here immediately?” scoffed Jojo. “They didn’t even ring the doorbell.”
“Maybe GG left the door open when she went to Melora’s, so they decided to make a dramatic entrance,” Noel insisted. He was not going to let go of this theory, Ralph decided, until someone came up with something better.
“So you think they’re actors hired by RoD?” asked Persephone.
“What other possible explanation could there be?” said Noel triumphantly.
There was the sound of voices inside. Ralph shrugged and was about to open the door when Cammi stopped him.
“Did you guys notice anything about them?” he asked.
Jojo shot him a look. “You mean other than the whole costumes and swords and that humongous hammer that one guy is carrying?”
Cammi turned to Ralph. “Exactly. The war hammer Deathbringer. Isn’t that what Torgrim carries?”
“Lots of dwarf characters carry hammers,” Ralph said.
“The wizard is an elf, with a silver leaf clasp, and I know that Jandia has a scarlet cape and a two-handed sword.”
“You mean they’re dressed as our characters?” Ralph said, trying not to laugh. “They’re just generic…you know, typical…”
“No, I think Cammi’s right. A bard, a cleric, a wizard, a barbarian, and a halfling rogue…,” Persephone said, counting them off on her fingers. “You think that’s a coincidence?”
“Those are definitely our characters!” said Noel.
“You just said—” Ralph groused.
“I’ve changed my mind!” Noel said. “That was a stupid idea.”
“At least we agree on that,” Jojo said.
“Isn’t today your birthday, RPG?” Noel asked, ignoring Jojo.
“My birthday…,” Ralph said. “Oh…you don’t think…”
Noel smiled in triumph. “Sure. Your parents hired them as a surprise.”
“But they don’t know anything about the game,” Ralph said, “so how would they—”
“Declan,” Cammi said, nodding. “He could have given them all the information.”
“It’s true. Plus, your parents produce commercials,” Jojo said. “Putting together something like this would be nothing for them. The whole thing is probably being taped.”
Of course.
The whole “We’re gone all day” thing. They were probably hiding somewhere in the house, filming right now.
“So they’re actors!” said Persephone delightedly. “Awesome!”
Before Ralph could stop her, she flung open the doors.
The one dressed as the wizard was leafing through the book on his belt. The dwarf and the one with the harp were at the window, peering out, mesmerized. The halfling was looking intently at the photos on the mantel, and the large-muscled woman was kneeling by the coffee table. She had picked up the bowl of popcorn and was smelling it curiously.
Jojo approached her. “You can have some snacks if you want.”
Jandia peered at her suspiciously. “Snax? This is to eat, yes?”
“Boy, you really stay in character,” said Jojo. “Um, yes, it is to eat.”
Jandia picked up one popped kernel and looked at it. She turned to the dwarf. “Should I try it?”
The dwarf approached the bowl and put his hand in. “Um, maybe you should wash your hands first,” suggested Ralph as he caught a whiff of something. It smelled like Torgrim hadn’t bathed in months. Where did his parents find these people?
Torgrim stared at the boy in front of him and grinned. “I will not need to purify my hands for this. It will either kill me or not.” He shoved a handful in his mouth and proceeded to produce disgusting crunching noises. He nodded to the others.
“It is good!” he proclaimed.
“It would be a boon,” said the one with the harp, “if you would swallow what is in your mouth before making such statements.”
Persephone tugged at her sleeve. “Um, excuse me, you’re Mirak, right?”
The bard looked down in amazement. “How is it you know my name?”
The rogue looked over from the mantel. “Perhaps your fame as a singer of great songs has traveled so far and wide as to make it into this dimension.”
“Something like that,” Persephone said. She leaned in conspiratorially. “So how did you get this job? Did you audition?”
Mirak looked confused. “This job? If by that you mean how came me to join this company, that is a long and exciting tale, which begins at my birth. Where it was foretold—”
“She will continue for an hour or more if you wish,” broke in the halfling. “I think it far more interesting to hear about you younglings.”
Here it comes, thought Ralph. They’re going to ask about the birthday boy and do something corny.
The wizard looked up. “Yes, if we were called to this place, it would be good to learn more about it.”
The more Ralph looked at them, the more impressed he was. His parents must have spent a fortune on these costumes and props, let alone finding actors to play these roles in full facial prosthetic makeup. He was waiting for GG and his folks to jump out and say, “Surprise!”
“So do you work out in a gym?” Jojo was asking Jandia. “I bet you’re a personal trainer, right?”
Jandia was licking the popcorn bowl. “These words are strange to me. I am a fighter.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Barbarian fighter, level twenty, blah blah blah,” Jojo said.
Jandia let out a low growl.
“It is never wise to mock barbarians,” counseled the wizard. “Most unwise indeed.”
Cammi looked enchanted by Gerontius’s cloak. He reached out tentatively. “May I?”
“Of course,” answered the wizard gently.
Cammi rubbed it between his fingers. It seemed to melt at his touch, it was so fine.
“I’ve never seen fabric like this,” he said to his friends. “It’s so cool. I wonder what it’s made of?”
“It is fairy-woven,” said the wizard, “by the good folk of Cloverdell. Of cobwebs is it made, and moonflowers and—”
“—woodbine leaves and sweetbriar,” Cammi almost whispered.
“You know your feywork well, youngling!”
Cammi looked up, trembling. “You…couldn’t know that. How did you know that?”
He fell to the floor. The other kids rushed to him.
The cleric pushed them aside. “I am a healer. Let me minister to him.”
This had gone far enough. Ralph looked up at these strangers in his house. “Okay, the show’s over. You can stop now.”
Persephone held Cammi’s head in her arms. He was staring, wide-eyed. “No one knew that….”
“What?” asked Persephone.
“No one, not Declan, not anyone. I never told anyone what Gerontius’s cloak was made of,” Cammi said
solemnly. “And that isn’t any fabric I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen pretty much everything in my grandma’s costume shop. If it’s cloth, they’ve used it.”
Ralph felt his breaths coming faster and his heart beating harder.
“You must have told him and forgotten,” Noel said. “It happens. I mean—”
“He got that cloak when he won that challenge in Waterspout,” Ralph remembered. “That was after Declan left.”
“Then you told your parents,” Noel said, a little louder. “Right? What other explanation is there?”
Ralph shook his head. He never told them a thing.
“You know of the challenge?” asked Gerontius. “How do you know this?”
“That’s easy,” Noel said. “RPG is the one who—”
Ralph stopped him. “Your exploits are known even here.”
He tried his best to bow without looking too stupid. “Would you excuse us once more? I must confer with my compatriots.”
“Of course!” answered Gerontius.
“Anything we can get you?” asked Persephone as the others led the still-shaken Cammi out of the room.
“More snax!” demanded Jandia, tugging on a Red Vine.
The children retreated, and the doors slid shut.
There was the sound of laughter from the corner. Bram looked at Gerontius and laughed again. “These younglings are either very wise or powerful or both. I think we have found a good place.”
Ralph looked at his friends. He was pretty sure he looked just as shocked and frightened as the rest of them, but he was going to do his best to figure this out. “So, any other ideas?”
“Mass hypnosis?” suggested Noel.
“Oh, please,” said Persephone. “Why would someone do that? And how would they do it?”
“We don’t know,” Noel said triumphantly, “because we’re hypnotized.”
Jojo pinched his arm, hard.
“Ow! What gives!” protested Noel.
“I was trying to wake you up,” she said, smiling.
The Game Masters of Garden Place Page 9
