by David Petrie
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Nix was moving before she had finished talking, disappearing through a door along with Aawil. They both reappeared a moment later in one of the box seats above. She leaned out and waved to everyone still on the floor. It took every ounce of restraint that Max had not to shoot at her.
“Let’s go.” He turned and headed toward the opposite door, gesturing to Alastair with his head as he walked by. He hoped the head of Checkpoint Systems would take the hint and meet them upstairs.
Ginger joined him, taking Max’s hand and giving it a brief squeeze. Farn followed, herding Echo along with her. The rest of the auction’s guests split up and drifted toward the doors.
Max headed up a flight of stairs with a red-carpet runner that led to the box seats. Curtained archways lined a hallway every twenty feet with a door in the middle. He picked one at random and entered, finding a space inside with a balcony overlooking the stage. A second curtain hung to block the box from view. Max took one look across the theater at Nix, then pulled the curtain closed.
As soon as she was out of sight, he dropped to the floor with his back against the wall and sunk his face into his hands. Ginger sat down beside him and rested her head against his shoulder.
“Can we really just ignore her?” Farn tapped her clawed fingers against a chair rail that ran along the wall.
Max looked up at the Shield. “What else can we do?”
“We can throw things at Nix from here,” Echo added, mouthing the words silently and miming the act of throwing something.
Max groaned and gestured to Farn. “Could you?”
Farn reached into her pouch and pulled out a plain velvet pouch, the useless contract item she’d gotten a few weeks prior. Pulling it open, she retrieved a small honey loaf baked into the shape of a lagopin, complete with tiny wings and rabbit ears. She handed it to Echo.
“Perfect! I can hit her with this.” Echo tossed the loaf in her hand as if testing its weight. Farn caught it out of the air and pushed it close to the artificial fairy’s mouth so that the treat bumped her nose. Echo gave in to the distraction almost instantly, scarfing into the bread without restraint. Farn pulled the drawstring on the velvet pouch, before opening it again to produce a second bunny loaf that she tossed to Max.
“You look like you could use one too.”
Max caught it and gave her a sad smile. “That really is a stupid contract item.”
“Hey, don’t knock the Sack of Snacks, the system just gave me what I wanted, and I wanted a present for Kira. She’s going to love it when we get her back.” Farn tousled Echo’s hair as she ate. “See how happy it makes this one.”
“Yes, but she’s just an imitation. The system only mimics her using our own expectations. She only likes it because you think she does.” Max tore off a piece of the loaf in his hand.
“Farn’s right,” a familiar voice came from the curtain as Alastair crept into the room from the hall. “Kira would love it.”
“Agreed, it’s a bag that makes infinite bunny buns. What’s not to like?” Ginger held out a hand so Farn could toss one to her.
“Right before we lost her, Kira told me,” Farn stared down at the bread in her hands, “that this was the perfect adventure snack. Not too sweet or over-flavored like the junk food in the real world. Just light and fluffy, with a subtle taste of honey. The kind of thing you might actually find in a fantasy world. They were her favorite. I think… I wanted to give her that, and the contract system responded to that need.”
“Yes,” Alastair sighed, avoiding eye contact with the Shield as he brought the subject back to their dilemma. “But about Nix, what do we do?”
“We keep her here, where we know where she is.” Max ripped off a piece of bread with his teeth.
“I agree.” Alastair leaned against the door. “It’s better to keep her where we can see her. And I’m doing everything I can to track her account. I’m not very optimistic about it, since her signal bounces all over the world every time we think we’ve traced her. But there’s no sense giving up.” He held a hand out to Farn for a loaf of bread. “How are things going on your end?”
“It’s going.” Max nodded. “We made some headway taking down the Deep and got a contract that might be helpful against Nix, but it’s not a sure thing. And since no one can find the last of the recently added Nightmares, we’re out of ways to get any more contracts. Have you had any luck figuring out what happened?”
“No, the Void is no longer available to fight.” Alastair groaned. “We’ve apparently lost the Nightmare entirely. We know where it should be but it’s just not there.”
“How do you lose a Nightmare?” Ginger gave him a sideways look.
“A contract item, I assume.” He rubbed at his forehead. “The more of them that find their way into this world, the harder it is to run. Most don’t present much of a problem, but every now and then a contract catches us off guard. That’s the only possibility for the Void’s dungeon being empty. We’ve looked into resetting the Nightmare, but there are still some issues in editing Carver’s work. He’s got the code all tangled up so we have trouble changing things without breaking other parts of the game. It’s all very frustrating.”
“That just leaves the Auction of Souls.” Max sank against the wall.
“Don’t remind me.” Alastair folded his arms.
“Not a fan of the auction?” Ginger raised an eyebrow.
“No.” Alastair sneered off in the direction of the theater below. “This event is a mockery of everything I’ve built. Noctem is not a pay to win game. So it stands to reason that contracts shouldn’t be bought or sold.”
“Then why allow it?” Max asked.
“I wouldn’t if I had a choice.” Alastair sunk back against the wall. “Dalliance and Grindstone represent one of Checkpoint’s original investors. They negotiated for privileges back when we started and, at the time, getting the startup money was more important. Now my hands are tied.” Alastair narrowed his eyes. “They’re both lawyers.”
“Ouch, my condolences.” Farn gave him sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
“Yes, well, what’s done is done.” Alastair shrugged before changing the subject. “Why contracts, by the way?” Alastair stared down at him. “If Nix really does have the same power that Kira had, there shouldn’t be anything in Noctem that can stop her. A contract wouldn’t be any different, she can just override them too, like Kira was able to.”
“Don’t say ‘was’!” Farn snapped, her mouth curling down to bare her bottom teeth. “Don’t talk like she’s gone. We’re getting her back.”
“Wha– oh,” Alastair flinched at the sudden outburst before lowering his eyes to the floor. “Sorry. But again, why focus on contracts? Nix is pretty much a god to this world, just like Kira.”
“Not quite.” Max finished off his loaf, brushing crumbs off his leg.
“How so?”
“Max thinks contracts are different.” Ginger stood up.
“Nix isn’t the same as Kira. She told me that herself,” Max got up beside her. “Whatever Carver did to Kira was successful. Nix said that she was what happens when the experiment fails.”
“So you don’t think she’s as powerful as Kira.” Alastair placed a finger against his chin. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not. You didn’t see her use that power.” Max thought back to the moment when Nix had revealed to him the monster she really was. “That power… hurt her. She could barely stay upright. And that was just after altering the game in small ways.”
“And contracts are far more powerful than anything else in Noctem.” Farn held up her hand, staring at her claws with a frown. “If anything can stand up to her power, it’s going to be one of these.”
“You said it yourself.” Max leveled his eyes on Alastair. “Contracts aren’t even stored on the game server.”
“You’re right.” His mouth fell open. “They’re stored in the user’s brain along with the game’s back
ground data.”
Max tapped his head. “That’s why, when we went up against Berwyn six months ago, we couldn’t let him log out. If he had, the book that detailed his operation wouldn’t have functioned.”
“And you think that having the data stored in your head rather than the system, that Nix won’t be strong enough to resist.”
“Exactly. And the invitation we received for the auction had an additional line written at the bottom.”
Ginger pulled the sheet of paper from her item bag and passed it to Alastair.
You are cordially invited to attend the first annual
Auction of Souls
(P.S. We may have a contract perfect for vendettas.)
“I see.” Alastair handed it back. “I guess declaring your war on Nix publicly got Dalliance’s attention. That sounds like something he would write.”
“Let’s just hope his note is accurate.” Max spun back toward the curtain and shoved it aside to stare out across the theater. “We need to get her this time.”
“And make sure she can’t slip away.” Ginger leaned on the gold railing of the balcony beside him.
“Let’s hope the rest of the auction goes smoothly then.” Alastair ducked back into the shadows. “I can’t help you publicly, but I’ll do anything I can from behind the scenes.” He slipped out the door behind to the hall, leaving it open to add one last, “Good luck.”
“We’re going to need it.” Farn joined Max and Ginger at the railing. They stayed like that for a few moments before the Shield spun around in a panic. “Oh no, where’s Echo?”
Max turned around slowly, his eyes falling on the door that Alastair had left open before traveling to the avatar’s discarded cloak on the floor.
“That can’t be good.”
Chapter Six
Nope nope nope nope.
Seven burst through a door, her head on a swivel to make sure no one had followed her from the theater. Ruby squawked and flapped his wings behind her in attempt to keep up.
No way did I sign on for this.
Continuing to run, she blew past a pair of guards then veered off down a hallway until she hit what looked like a lift. It was just an open shaft with no doors. Safe or not, it was better than staying there with Max and Nix at each other’s throats back at the auction. She tapped the call button repeatedly, jogging in place like it would somehow speed up the elevator.
Come on, come on, come on.
Finally, a slab of stone covered in magical-looking runes rose up to meet her in the open shaft. She stepped aboard, only remembering to breathe when she was safely down a few levels. Ruby flew down the shaft to catch up. The oversized bird landed at her feet, glaring up at her as if silently judging.
“What?” Seven stomped one foot at the bird and clutched a hand to her chest. “He freaking shot at me! That sociopath actually shot at me. He didn’t even hesitate.”
Ruby tilted his head to one side like he didn’t understand the problem. Seven ignored him.
“What is wrong with these people?”
The elevator came to a stop at a rather ordinary hallway with a few random players milling about.
“Nope.” She tapped the button on the inside of the shaft to go down another couple floors. “Too many people.” The elevator stopped again, this time to an empty room with a hatch-like door riveted into the wood paneling. Seven dashed into the space and placed one hand on the wall to rest while she caught her breath. Ruby flew up to land on her outstretched arm.
“Gah! What the hell?” She yanked her hand back and staggered away. “Can you just not, right now?”
Ruby landed on the floor and hopped around her feet making annoyed cawing sounds.
“Yeah, you and me both,” she spat back at him. Stupid bird.
After taking a moment to recover from everything that had happened upstairs, Seven finally settled down, letting out a long sigh.
“What the hell did I get myself into?”
She wanted to log out and fire off a quick email to Leftwitch.
Thanks but no thanks. Not the job for me, good luck finding someone more desperate.
Seven buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t do that. It was a job, and she really was desperate. Seeing her task through was her only option.
Maybe she could log out and then come back in a half hour when the auction was about to start. That way she could avoid any and all interaction with House Lockheart and the rest of those whack jobs upstairs. She rubbed at her temples. No, that wouldn’t work. What if she wasn’t able to get to sleep again so soon? Could the game pull her back in that fast? The workings of Carpe Noctem’s system were still a mystery to her. Just how much power did it have?
“Damn it.” She kicked at the brass frame of the hatch. “Ow! Damn it!” she said again as the toe of her shoe lit up with a crimson glow. Her stat-sleeve spread across the skin of her forearm to tell her she’d lost six hit points. A strange numbness replaced the sensation of pain before fading to nothing. It was… uncomfortable.
“Stupid freaking game–” she complained before catching the view through the hatch’s small porthole window.
“Whoa…”
Seven forgot all about her complaints and pressed her face to the window. Her hands moved on their own, rotating the wheel on the door to unlock the hatch. Opening it, she stepped through and stared at the space beyond.
A cavernous space of wood and metal surrounded her as she stood on a long-railed section of deck overlooking an opening in the ship’s belly. The enormous wheel that she had seen bisecting the Night Queen from the outside rotated just below her. The space that housed the wheel was so large that she could hardly believe she was still inside the ship. It was at least a few hundred feet wide, as if part of the vessel was hollowed out to make room for the contraption. Whatever it was, she had no idea.
Maybe… some kind of engine to keep us afloat?
Sparks erupted from the wheel at random intervals as if generating energy, while an electric quality filled the air. The hairs on her forearm stood on end. That was when she noticed its surface was covered with the same runes as the stone slab that floated in the elevator shaft a moment before. It was as if they both operated off the same magic, just on different scales.
Maybe the rotation is needed for stability.
Seven stepped forward and placed her hands on the railing, looking down at the ground below, past the enormous wheel.
She had no words.
As irritating as she found the game, she had to admit that it held some truly incredible sights. Just like the throne room of the Grand Archway in Lucem, the inner workings of the Night Queen were an impressive feat of imagination. Noctem’s developer team didn’t do things halfway.
No, they went all out.
Alone, Seven let herself sink down against the railing and watched the wheel turn.
At least there’s no one around.
She navigated to the inventory list tattooed onto her forearm and found one of the pieces of bread that she’d stored earlier. It materialized in her hand and she took a small bite.
Ruby fluttered up to land on the railing by her side, pecking at her shoulder and eying the food item in her hand.
“No. This isn’t for you.” Seven pulled her hand away and bit off a piece. There was no reason she should share with a fictional pet. Especially one as annoying as Ruby. That was when a swirl of sparkling dust drifted past her from the other side. She immediately spun around to find a petite woman sitting on the rail, a gentle glow fading from her skin.
Seven froze, unsure where the player had come from. She hadn’t heard any of the hatches open and there was no other way onto the deck where she stood. Unless the girl could fly. No, that was crazy. Or was it?
“Umm, can I help you?” Seven regarded the player with caution, but considering she was unarmed, she didn’t seem like a threat. Plus, Ruby hadn’t acknowledged her at all. The girl gave Seven a warm smile, then immediately hopped off the railing.
>
Seven reached forward on instinct to try to catch her but the girl just floated there in space, a pair of translucent wings keeping her aloft. Shining particles drifted around her form, making her white dress look as if was made up of tiny stars. Even her silver hair shimmered.
Okay, that’s a yes to being able to fly, Seven thought as the fairy shot up over the railing and back down to land on the deck. The fabric of her dress blew up as she set down, giving Seven an eye full. A sparkling heart with a keyhole at its center adorned the girl’s rear.
Seven suppressed a laugh.
“Can I help…” Seven tried to engage the strange character again, trailing off as she followed the fairy’s eyes to the half piece of bread she still held. The girl’s dull blue eyes were huge, darting between the food item and Seven’s face, as if silently asking for some. Seven would have gotten annoyed, but there was something off about the avatar. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. She shrugged and held out the bread, offering it to the fairy.
She immediately snatched it and scarfed it down, revealing herself to be a bit of a slob. Seven raised an eyebrow as the player brushed crumbs from her chest.
“Okay, what do you want with me?” Seven placed a hand on her hip, growing impatient with the player’s refusal to say anything.
The fairy answered, mouthing a few words but not making any sounds to accompany them.
“Yeah, I have no idea what that means.” Seven glowered at the girl.
She rolled her eyes, looking frustrated before mouthing the word ‘sorry’ slow enough for Seven to read her lips.
