Auction of Souls: Fantasy GameLit RPG Series (Pixel Dust Book 3)

by David Petrie

  Ginger appreciated the attempt, seeing a bit of the player she cared for shining through his hardened exterior.

  “I can do that.” Seven fell back to walk beside Farn and Echo. “I’m Seven, by the way.” She held out a hand to the Shield since they hadn’t met earlier. Farn shook it, making a good impression that seemed to set their possible ally at ease.

  Ginger smiled at her house, appreciating their efforts. They seemed to be getting used to diplomacy. It was a good thing too, because the moment they set foot back in the theater, a familiar face turned in their direction.

  “Lady Ginger.” Dartmouth, the new Lord of the House of Serpents, inclined his head respectfully. “I was hoping to get a chance to talk before things got underway.”

  “Of course.” She gestured to Farn and Max to find a seat but also to stay on guard. “Though, I can’t imagine you would have much reason to be friendly with us, considering we did dethrone your predecessor.”

  “On the contrary.” He waved away the concern with a hand. “Berwyn never had what was best for our house in mind. Now that we’re under new management, I would be honored if House Lockheart would consider us allies.”

  “I see.” Ginger gave him a friendly wink. “And I guess it doesn’t hurt that we paved the way for you to take control of his house.”

  “Yes, I’m certainly not complaining about anything.” He let out a polite chuckle. “I’m glad we have an understanding. If you need anything, just let me know and I’ll see if my Serpents can assist in any way.”

  “I appreciate that, and will keep it in mind.”

  Ginger gave him a professional smile, despite the fact that she had no intention of taking him up on his offer. Dartmouth wasn’t the threat that his predecessor was, but he was an opportunist that seemed to value appearances more than action. Plus, now that he had gone public with his real-world identity, she trusted him less. Not for any real reason, but he was wealthy and had been since birth. It was probably her own prejudice showing, but she simply didn’t trust anyone that hadn’t struggled to make rent at some point in their lives.

  Dartmouth said his goodbyes and made his way to a chair down by the stage where his housemates were already seated.

  Ginger took a moment to scan the theater for Nix, finding her and Aawil seated as far away as they could get. She avoided staring at them too long.

  “So that’s the infamous Nix, huh?” a friendly voice asked from behind.

  Ginger turned to find Larkin. “Glad to see you were able to wrangle an invitation to this thing. I thought we were going to have to pay your way in.” She finished with a conspiratorial wink.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t easy.” The crafting-obsessed Rage pushed a lock of blue hair behind one ear and adjusted his glasses. “I had to put up my shop as collateral to get the twins over there to take me seriously. It’s worth enough to buy a contract.”

  “But you love that place. Fashion Souls is your workshop, if you lose it, where will you craft?” Ginger placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling guilty considering he was technically there on her request. It was always a good idea to have some additional backup.

  “Oh, please.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I live for fashion, so I have no intention of risking my workshop. Besides, just look at how much I brought to trade with.” His words dripped with sarcasm.

  “I see that.” Ginger glanced to the back of the theater where several trunks lined the wall. “You must have some pretty valuable things in there to trade.” She reached out and touched the edge of his cape which was a new addition to his attire since last they had met. “Nice fabric, what’s it do?”

  “Yes, it is nice, and it prevents piercing damage.” He pulled the garment from her hand and clasped it tight around himself as if not wanting to display something he’d hidden underneath. “I wanted to look my best if I was going to be rubbing elbows with Noctem’s elites.”

  “Ah, well,” Ginger stumbled over her words, a little worried that she had offended the Rage. “I’d be happy to rub elbows with you anytime.” She tried to smooth things over.

  He gave her a smile as if there was nothing wrong. “Speaking of, how are the pixie bombs helping?”

  “They are amazing.” Ginger pulled one of the wooden cylinders from her coat. “Without a healer in our house, these have been the only thing getting us through the last few months.”

  “Glad they have been able to help.” He glanced over to where Farn sat beside Echo. “Actually, I’ll need you to bring Kira’s avatar by the shop sometime this week. I’m almost out of her dust.”

  “Already? We just resupplied you.”

  “Yes, but I recently started a new experiment and I’m afraid it cost me the majority of what I had in stock.” He brought his attention back to Ginger. “And if you still want me to keep your item bags full of health bombs, I’ll need more pixie dust.”

  “That’s reasonable.” Ginger nodded, looking over at Echo, who was staring at nothing in particular. “She may not be good for much these days, but at least she produces a valuable crafting resource.”

  “Indeed,” Larkin nodded. “I’m not quite ready to unveil my latest masterpiece, but her dust has really allowed me to create something special.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Suddenly the twins appeared on stage, signaling that things were about to get started.

  “Well, I should get back to my seat.” Larkin motioned to leave. “Good luck, I hope everything works out tonight.”

  Ginger gave a slight bow as he walked away, before turning her attention to the stage.

  “Welcome Lords and Ladies, Knights and Mages,” one of the twins announced. Judging from the smile on his face, it was Dalliance.

  “Yes, welcome to the Auction of Souls.” The other stepped forward wearing a severe frown. Clearly that one was Grindstone.

  Together, they began to explain the night’s proceedings and how to bid. Ginger walked to her seat next to Max. She would have paid attention to the presentation, but her mind was drawn elsewhere when the last person she expected to interact with, sat down on her other side.

  “Hello Jeff-with-a-three.” She made a point of keeping her voice low. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Must you people insist on calling me by that ridiculous name?” Jeff rubbed at his temples as he spoke quietly enough that only she could hear him.

  “Sorry, it just seemed the best way to honor Kira’s memory.” Ginger jabbed at his conscience.

  Ever since the pyramid job six months ago, she couldn’t help but question the overly serious elf’s loyalties. According to Alastair, his assistant had been the one to suggest the idea of a heist in the first place. She’d discussed her suspicion with Max months ago, and he agreed. The fact that Nix had been in place within the palace in Reliqua well before Alastair had sent them in could only mean one thing.

  The mission had all been a set up from the start.

  With the knowledge that it had been J3ff’s idea, well, that only led to one conclusion: he worked for Nix. It made too much sense. Considering that Nix had been one step ahead of them since the beginning, the evil woman had to have a man on the inside of Checkpoint Systems. Everything had gone according to Nix’s plan, even before Carver’s quest that had started it all a year and a half ago.

  Ginger let her hand fall to the armrest she shared with Max. He wasn’t sitting close enough to hear anything J3ff was saying, but still, she could feel the tension in his arm next to hers.

  Sorry to put you through this.

  It must have been taking every bit of restraint he had to keep from reaching for his guns. They had decided it would be best to pretend they hadn’t figured out J3ff’s true nature. They hadn’t even let Alastair know about the theory, the hope being that they could take advantage of his connection to Nix at some point. As long as Alastair didn’t let J3ff know that he’d told Ginger about whose idea the heist had been, they might be able to manipulate the spy. Maybe even trick
Nix into showing her hand.

  “Yes, speaking of Kira’s memory.” J3ff flicked his eyes to the avatar sitting quietly next to Farn further down the row of seats. “I see her Echo is still stable.”

  “Should she not be?”

  “Simply speaking, no. That thing shouldn’t even exist.”

  “That’s a harsh assessment.”

  “I’m sorry to be harsh, but according to all of our system information, Kira died six months ago.” His severe expression softened as he continued. “Having her avatar still roaming about is nothing more than an error. It’s Noctem’s way of responding to one of your people’s inability to let her go. I know Alastair has been avoiding pushing the subject, but he does agree. For whichever one of you is holding her here, the best thing would be to move on.”

  Ginger sighed. He wasn’t wrong, and judging from how much Farn took care of Kira’s empty shell, it wasn’t hard to figure out who was holding onto her memory. Who could blame her? Losing Kira had hurt everyone, even Ginger. She had stayed by Max’s side while he grieved. He had pressed on under the guise of finding his lost friend, but Ginger could see the loss in Max’s eyes. The thread of hope keeping him going was growing thinner by the day.

  Farn, though, was a different story. Ginger could only imagine how hard losing Kira must have been for the Shield. The little fairy had been her first friend in years, not to mention the first person she’d fallen in love with for real. Losing her, only minutes after confessing her feelings, must have been devastating. Despite that, Farn never seemed to consider the possibility that Kira was gone for good. No, to her, she was just missing. The way she spoke, it seemed like they might find Kira any day now, and they could pick up right where they’d left off.

  Ginger looked away from the Shield and the empty shell beside her before the sight of them broke her heart.

  “Letting go is hard.” Ginger lowered head. “Some people just need time, even if they need a crutch to get through each day. I’d appreciate you leaving it well enough alone.” She turned to look J3ff in the eyes. “Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be over with Alastair?”

  His face blanched at her words, making it clear she’d struck a chord with his conscience. “Yes, Alastair wanted me to give you an update on Nix.”

  “Good, spill it.”

  “We’re doing everything we can to track her now that we know where she is in Noctem, and we think we might have narrowed her location down to a country.”

  “And?”

  “She’s in the U.S.”

  “Thanks for that.” Ginger rolled her eyes. “We’ll assemble a search party and go door to door.”

  “I realize that it’s not much, but it’s a start.”

  “Just keep at it.” Ginger turned back to the stage, making it clear that she was done talking to him.

  “Fine, we will.” He stood up and slithered back to Alastair, leaving Ginger to shudder at the thought of having to talk to him again. Turning to her other side, she caught Max staring daggers at the elf’s back.

  “I swear, I will end him.”

  “Yeah, I know, you’re out for vengeance.” Ginger elbowed Max in the arm. “Just make sure I can still have you when you’re done. I still have plans.” She finished with her most charming smile.

  Max clearly tried his best to hold onto his intensity but couldn’t stop his cheeks from turning red. He coughed and slumped into his seat. “Sure, I’ll look forward to that.”

  Ginger let herself relax beside him, giving her attention back to the twins on the stage who were finally wrapping up their explanation of what to expect of the event. Grindstone faded back into the background while Dalliance smiled wide and clapped his hands together.

  “How about we start the bidding with some appetizers?”

  The Auction of Souls had officially begun.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Just sit still for once.” Farn passed Echo another loaf of bread from her Sack of Snacks as Dalliance addressed the room from the stage.

  “Before we get to the main event, we’re going to start with a round of non-contract items.” He immediately held up his hands as if anticipating groans from the audience. “I know, I know, everyone is here for contracts. But do you really want to rush right to the end? I assure you, everything will be far more exciting if we allow a little build up.” He leaned forward and placed a hand to his mouth as if telling a secret to the entire theater.

  “Besides, each of these non-contract items are unique drops, meaning they are one of a kind and no one else can get them. Some may even rival a contract in power.” He continued to speak as the auction’s staff wheeled in a table containing an assortment of items.

  Farn couldn’t help but recognize one of Dalliance’s employees on stage, an elf dressed in the formal gear that matched the rest of the auction staff. Luka, also known as Agent Delgado of the Federal Bureau of Investigations.

  Why are the Feds here?

  Farn hadn’t seen the elven woman since the heist a few months back. Luka had flown the getaway craft they used to move the loot, in exchange for help getting an item from Reliqua’s vault. Nix had killed her halfway through the job.

  Farn tensed up. Last she’d heard, the Feds were pretty scared of what Kira had become. She may have helped them stop an arms dealer from selling something dangerous, but she’d also shown them what her power could do. All the firewalls in the world weren’t enough to stop her from getting any information she wanted. It must have been terrifying to have their databases cracked in seconds. It didn’t seem to matter that Kira would never mean any harm. As far as the government was concerned, something like her couldn’t be allowed to exist.

  She must be here tracking Nix to make sure Kira’s off the table. The realization reminded Farn how important it was that she find her friend first.

  Farn glanced at Echo in her peripheral. The avatar had finished the loaf she’d been given and was now staring blankly at Seven who sat on her other side. The newly minted Venom mage seemed to be trying to ignore her, like the fairy’s vacant expression made her uncomfortable.

  Farn reached over to brush a lock of hair from Echo’s face, hoping to give some input into the system so the avatar might behave a little more human. Echo snapped back to life as soon as Farn’s fingers came in contact with her skin, leaning into her touch. The fairy gave her hand an affectionate nuzzle. Farn yanked it away, afraid to let herself be pulled into the illusion that the system had created.

  “Why don’t you go check out the buffet over there?”

  The avatar’s dull pupils dilated at the mention of food and flicked over to the table. That was all the system needed to send the little error off on a new task of destroying a buffet. Farn watched as the imitation fairy snuck her way across the theater.

  “She’s a bit odd.” Seven leaned into the empty seat that Echo had just vacated.

  “Who, Echo?” Farn sunk into her chair. “Sometimes you have to keep her busy or she runs off and gets into trouble.”

  “Why do you call her Echo, by the way?” Seven gestured to her journal. “Her name shows up as Kirabell in the area search.”

  “Ah, well…” Farn felt her forehead begin to sweat, not having an answer for the question. Fortunately, Dalliance chose that moment to display the first item.

  “Behold the Possessed Hatchet!” Dalliance threw his hand up, brandishing a plain-looking weapon with a slightly curved handle attached to a small ax head. “Dropped by the Hatchet Ghost that resides in the attic of Gracie Manor at the edge of Port Han. This weapon functions like your basic throwable item. Similar to a throwing knife, it can be used by any class. However, since it is larger than a knife which deals a flat fifty points of damage, this fella can dish out twice that against monsters. The damage is also tripled to three hundred points of damage when used against other players.” He paused to admire the item. “Shall we start the bidding at a thousand dollars?”

  Farn heard Seven sputter as her elbow fell off he
r armrest.

  “A thousand. That’s half my mortgage.” She turned to Farn. “Is it that good of an item?”

  Unsure why the woman had suddenly become so curious, Farn answered her by gesturing at the audience, none of which had raised their number tiles.

  “Throwables can’t deal critical damage, so they aren’t that helpful in combat other than to get a monster’s attention so you can pull it away from a group. Three hundred damage against players is good, but not that helpful since you would have to retrieve the weapon afterwards. Battles are chaotic and there isn’t always time to go looking for things. Most players consider throwables disposable.”

  Seven looked disappointed along with the rest of the bidders who started to taunt the auctioneer.

  “Wake me when something good comes up.” Lord Murph of House Saint dropped his head back and feigned sleep, his tail swishing beneath his seat.

  “Rude.” Dalliance crossed his arms and pouted. “Seriously? No one wants a possessed hatchet?” He held out the weapon and tossed it in one hand a few times, catching the handle. Then without warning, he threw to the side so that it flew off stage. A crash came from behind the curtain, followed by a surprised shout.

  “Sorry, Grindstone,” Dalliance said with a wink at the audience. “No one wanted our possessed hatchet, despite it sounding so cool and spooky.”

  “Whatever, just move on.” Grindstone shouted from off stage.

  “Yes, that may be best.” Dalliance lowered his head and began walking back to the table of items. On his way, he held out his hand. Suddenly, the hatchet flew back onto the stage, landing firmly in his grip.

  “What the…?” Farn clenched every muscle in her virtual body.

  “Oh, did I forget to mention that this hatchet always returns to its owner when beckoned? And that it bonds to any player that touches it until abandoned?” Dalliance gave the audience a smirk as bidding tiles were thrust into the air.

  “Ey, what?” Lord Murph lurched forward when his Knight elbowed him. He immediately raised his tile.