Game Play

by Kevin J. Anderson

  "Bryl, get ready with your Stones," Delrael said, not looking at the old half-Sorcerer. He swung his blade in the air, loosening his arm.

  Bryl bit his lip and said nothing. He clacked the four-sided diamond and the eight-sided ruby together in the palm of his hand. His skin turned pale with fear.

  Vailret pulled out his own short sword and stared down at the blade. He sighed and imitated Delrael's stance. Delrael knew his younger cousin lacked confidence, and interest, in fighting. Maybe that was why Vailret always wanted to plan things so far ahead of time, to minimize conflicts.

  Delrael heard a clattering in the holes near them, a strange inhuman sound. A glistening black head rose up, waving antennae like stiff leather whips. Serrated jaws opened and closed like sabers on well-oiled hinges. The ant head swivelled back and forth, as if scanning them.

  "Sufferin' succotash!" Journeyman said.

  The Anted used powerful jointed legs to heave itself over the rim of the hexagonal mound. Two more insects climbed out of nearby holes. Orange dawn light flashed on their polished chitin. The insects chirped together with a pounding, grating rhythm. Other Anteds drew nearer.

  Acting on his own desperation, Bryl took the Fire Stone, closed his eyes, and rolled it at his feet. "Give me luck this time!"

  The eight-sided ruby landed in the soft dirt with the "4" facing up.

  Bryl clapped his hands and snatched the Fire Stone back, calling up the spell.

  He surrounded the five of them with a ring of fire that bloomed up from the rocky ground, bright and deadly, sealing them off from the Anteds. The nearest insects chittered and reared back.

  "Safe as the Stronghold walls!" Bryl said.

  "Would you mind explaining what good it does?" Tallin asked. "The Anteds just have to wait you out."

  Bryl avoided the question. "I've got four more spells after this one."

  Delrael paced back and forth, holding his sword. Behind the flames another shape emerged from a tunnel opening, moving among the milling Anted forms. It looked human, or nearly so, and rode on the back of one of the insects. The part-human creature let out a series of guttural noises, poor imitations of the Anted chirps.

  "What is that disgusting thing?" Tallin dropped his voice so Delrael could barely hear it over the din of insect chirps and the roar of the flames.

  "Is it a human character?"

  The figure gestured and made more noises, as if barking orders. The bright flames made too many long shadows in the dim morning, masking out details.

  Bryl wiped sweat off his forehead. His knuckles whitened as he strained to keep his wall of flames up.

  "Looks like we don't have to wait any more." Delrael shifted his grip on the sword.

  An Anted thrust its head and forelimbs through the rippling wall of fire. Its antennae burned, smoking and writhing. The Anted collapsed with a moan like bending metal as its insides cooked within the black armor. Delrael heard popping and sizzling; a sour stench steamed up from cracks in the insect's shell.

  Another Anted came forward, sacrificing itself next to the first. It tumbled, legs curled into the air. A third Anted died, completing a bridge across the fire.

  Bryl squeezed the Fire Stone, trying to push the fire up through the insect bodies, but his spell faded. Bryl fell to his knees, exhausted, curling his lip to keep the fire burning. The flame died away, leaving only black and smoking rocks. He blinked, disoriented for a second, and hung his head. Other Anteds clambered over their fallen comrades.

  Vailret turned around, squinting in the smoke and stench, trying to appear threatening with his short sword. Journeyman punched his fist into the palm of his other hand with a loud smacking sound. Delrael touched his sword hilt, ready to die fighting. "Luck," he said to all of them.

  The part-human character rode on the back of one Anted where he could survey the attack. The rider appeared to have been a human once, but was now stunted and twisted. His hair had fallen out in patches, and his eyes bulged wide and unblinking. His skin was pasty pale, as if he had been isolated from sunlight for years ― but it also had an oily gleam when the light struck it at a certain angle. He wore plates of black chitin, broken shells from the Anteds, on his back and sides. The chitin looked as if it had grown in, rather than just tied on.

  The part-human figure gestured in the air, showing fingers that had fused together. The nails had become solid and grown down over his knuckles in a hooked claw that resembled those of the Anteds.

  "Wait!" Vailret called. "What do you want?"

  The part-human creature rode his Anted through the other insects, emerging at the front. He cocked his head to look at them. He sniffed the air.

  His saucer-like eyes did not blink. The other Anteds pressed close beside him, gaping open their sharp jaws.

  "Maybe we'd better not fight," Vailret whispered. He gestured for them to lower their weapons. "Just surrender for now."

  Delrael remembered the role-playing game his father and Bryl had put him through on his eleventh birthday, making him imagine he had been taken captive by a tribe of vicious worm-men. Vailret had a similar role-playing adventure about being captured by the cruel reptilian Slac. "Are you sure you want to be taken alive?"

  Vailret looked at him, and Delrael knew what he was thinking. Neither of them had survived their imaginary captivity in the vivid role-playing game.

  "Looks like we're out of luck otherwise." Tallin rubbed his fingers at the point of his beard. "I wish I was back in the forest terrain. The ylvan were boring, but safe."

  "I'd rather stay alive, if it's all the same to you," Bryl said.

  Vailret called out again to the part-human creature. "We won't resist."

  He sheathed his short sword, and motioned for Delrael to do the same. Tallin put his crossbow back on his shoulder.

  Delrael stood motionless, uneasy. His empty hand fidgeted around the hilt of his sword. He shuffled his feet in the dust. He didn't like this at all.

  "Take us to your leader," Journeyman said.

  The part-human creature made a chuffing, chirping sound from the bottom of his throat. The circle of Anteds grew tighter until one opened its deadly mandibles around Bryl's waist. The half-Sorcerer fainted, slithering down into the grip of the ebony jaws. The Anted lifted Bryl's limp form into the air, then marched toward one of the tunnel openings.

  Four more insects came forward for the rest of them. The Anteds stopped chirping.

  Delrael ground his teeth together, so tense that he felt as if his muscles would snap. He wanted to lash out, to fight to the death ― but his feet dangled uselessly below him when the Anted picked him up. He felt the insect's sharp mandibles even through his leather armor.

  The jaws made gouges in the soft clay of the golem's skin, but Journeyman kept nudging the clay back into place.

  The part-human dismounted looked at the dead Anted hulk buried near where they stood. With both hands he lifted up the shell of the insect's head and, with a snap of his arms, he twisted it off the main body. With his hardened knuckles, he rapped on the chitin. The exoskeleton rang hollow, and dried threadlike debris tumbled to the ground. Satisfied, he tucked the empty head under his arm like a trophy and scrambled back onto his mount.

  The other Anteds moved forward and descended into one of the openings.

  The tunnels slanted downward, twisting deep beneath the surface.

  Delrael wondered how far they could go before they struck the bottom of the map. The far walls of the tunnel flooded past into murk before and behind him.

  The air held a thick musty odor of dust and claustrophobia. The walls were made of fused, gritty sand.

  After his eyes became accustomed, Delrael realized the catacombs were not totally dark. Patches of fungus had been smeared on corners and near the curved ceilings, and these glowed with a faint green, barely enough to see by.

  The ants covered a great distance in the tangled tunnels before climbing upward again. Delrael was sore and anxious to know what they would find at
the end of the journey. The other companions did not speak.

  The part-human creature dismounted and scampered ahead, at home in the tunnels. The insects began chirping to each other in a strange chant. The part-human made a loud imitation of the chirps himself, then used his hooked claw-hands to tear at his sides and under his arms. Lines of dried blood marked previous injuries on the stiff skin.

  The Anteds carried them into a large sunlit grotto chiseled out of the cementlike walls. Delrael knew before he could blink the bright light out of his eyes that they had entered the queen's chamber. It was what he expected.

  "And now for a word from our sponsor," Journeyman said.

  The Anteds released their captives. Delrael staggered on numb legs and tingling feet. He rubbed his pinched sides to restore feeling. Journeyman smoothed the gouge marks from his clay torso.

  A huge Anted spoke from an odd dais carved out of polished gray stone.

  "Consort, what have you brought your queen?" Her reedy voice was clicking and cumbersome.

  The Anted queen's body was glossy black, but her head was polished liquid-smooth, completely without the many-faceted eyes of the other insects.

  Her mandibles were smaller, atrophied. Two thin, cellophane wings curled down beside her in a clear amber cloak.

  Delrael scanned the throne room, automatically checking options for escape. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Tallin do the same. He felt a rapport with the tough little ylvan.

  In the streaming light from the wide opening overhead, many tunnels branched off from the other walls. Dust motes gleamed as they fell through the sunlight toward the floor.

  The part-human creature set down the empty Anted head he had been carrying and crept forward. His lower jaw jutted out, and his words had a garbled whistling quality. "Ryx, Ryx, Ryx..."

  "Are these to be alternative choices for me, Consort?" The queen ant spoke to the part-human creature. "Is that why you brought them?"

  "No!" The consort-creature scrabbled forward in fear and awe, but eager. He walked on his hands and legs in a bucking, hunchbacked gait that looked oddly natural for him. Delrael saw wide lumpy ridges along his ribcage, as if another folded set of limbs had begun to grow there.

  Consort cooed and made his weird chirping noise as he crawled up to Ryx's feet. He ran his clawed fingers over her limbs, straightening the bristle hairs on her forelimbs. He nuzzled up, rubbing his hands along her abdomen, stroking her golden wings.

  Ryx tilted her eyeless head back. Her small mandibles opened and closed. She emitted a high keening sound.

  Consort pushed his face against her chitin plates, leaving a wet streak from his thick, damp tongue. "Ryx ... Ryx ... Ryx..." he said. His claws scraped on her exoskeleton, then reached between her mandibles with loving gentleness. He probed her mouth parts.

  "I can't give you much more to eat," the queen said, "You will transform too quickly. I don't want to risk that. You are my consort ― I don't want anything to go wrong."

  "More, Ryx ... more. Hungry." Consort snuffled and whined.

  "Just a sip." She reached out with her forelimbs to stroke the plates implanted in his back and the tattered shreds of hair on his head.

  A whitish-gold syrup oozed from a channel in the inside of her mouth.

  Consort jerked forward, lapping it up. He thrust his head deep into the gap between her mandibles, humming and sighing.

  Delrael watched in disgust. Bryl turned his head. The other Anteds stood guard around them, motionless.

  "Enough!" Ryx pushed the part-human creature away. Rebuffed, Consort hunkered down in front of her. His clawed hands swayed loosely. "That is your reward. What have you brought me?"

  Delrael realized Ryx had her head cocked off to the side, as if seeing through other eyes. Consort stared up at the huge queen ant in admiration, then tilted his head sideways to stare at the travelers with his bulging dry eyes.

  "Five characters. Questers. One small, one old, one strong, one medium, and..." He looked long at Journeyman, "And one made of mud."

  Consort stood up as straight as he could, swaying his hooked hands around his kneecaps, then turned to face the motionless queen again. He stiffened, and Ryx's feelers vibrated with intense speed.

  Ryx raised her head and continued in her humming voice. "A typical adventuring party. What is your quest?" Her polished head turned toward the wall behind the travelers.

  Delrael fumbled in his mind, searching for a viable excuse, but his mind went blank.

  Tallin's response was quicker. "We're just mercenaries. When the Game slowed down, this blasted peace put us out of work! We heard stories about a battle brewing in the east, and we're making our way there. Any problems with that?"

  Ryx tilted her head toward the ylvan's voice for a long moment. Tallin stood defiant next to Delrael. Journeyman looked flat and emotionless; Vailret bit his lip; Bryl scrambled up from his daze on the floor, looking around in fear. The queen of the Anteds shifted her blank head toward the half-Sorcerer.

  "You are no mercenaries. That one's afraid of his own reflection."

  Ryx vibrated her antennae again with a thin humming sound. The noise bounced around the walls of the grotto. Delrael felt a strange finger poking at the inside of his mind, ferreting out his private memories. Tallin touched his hands to his forehead.

  Ryx squatted back on her polished dais. Delrael didn't know how to read any emotion on her face, but her voice hinted at laughter. "You intend to destroy Scartaris? Five of you think you can defeat his armies and defenses?"

  Delrael flushed in anger. "I didn't say that!"

  "Not only that, but the Earthspirits are hiding in your belt, and you intend to take them secretly to Scartaris, where the Spirits will be unleashed to battle him."

  Delrael clamped his mouth shut. Bryl let out a quiet moan of despair.

  Journeyman gawked in shock at Delrael, the silver belt, then the queen Anted.

  "Scartaris will reward me for this," Ryx said, tapping her forelegs together. "Consort, remove the belt."

  Delrael drew his sword and crouched, looking from side to side and daring the Anteds to come closer. He stepped away from the consort-creature.

  The lights grew dim around him as he focused his attention on the sword, on any enemy that might come.

  "Try it, Ryx! We'll cause more damage than your Anteds have ever seen."

  Following Delrael's lead, Journeyman drew himself up, ready to fight.

  Vailret and Tallin both pulled out their weapons, and Bryl held the Fire Stone. Nobody looked eager for battle. Three Anteds came forward, clacking their jaws, but hesitating. The air around them crackled with tension.

  The queen lifted her featureless head. "Stop! Consort, you stay away from those weapons. Take them all down to the fungus chambers and hold them there. I need to decide what to do with them."

  Consort scampered forward, clutching at Delrael's arm. The fighter snatched the claw-hand away, sweating and looking at the gathered insects.

  "Come," Consort said. "Come."

  The Anted guards backed away from one of the catacomb openings. "You will not resist," Ryx said in a brittle voice. "You have already stretched my patience to its limits."

  Delrael looked at the queen, at the other Anteds, then sheathed his sword. "We don't have any choice, again," he said. "We never get to do anything in this adventure."

  Journeyman restored his swollen fists to normal size. "He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day."

  Consort snatched up the empty shell of the Anted head he had found and swayed forward, walking like an insect. He turned once to see that the others followed him. One of the giant ants entered the passage behind them, keeping watch.

  Consort capered ahead of them, exuding coiled power and nervous energy.

  The tunnels wound downhill again until they saw only the dim greenish light from patches of fungus on the wall. Occasionally, an Anted poked its massive head out of side tunnels, watching the captives' progress.
Delrael could sense other insects following in the darkness of the tunnels behind them. Somehow in her great hive mind Ryx watched through all of their eyes.

  Delrael kept the directions filed away in his mind. As a questing character he could recall exactly where he had been and how to retrace his steps. He kept his eyes open for any way they might escape or defeat the Anteds, ready to act on it without thinking if an idea came to mind.

  They crossed a hex-line etched into the passage, up the walls, and across the ceiling over their heads, as if the Anteds had tunnelled directly through the black mark that went to the base of the map. "That's half of the desolation hexes," Tallin said. "Things can start getting better now."

  The green light grew brighter ahead. Consort turned the corner, leading them to the glowing opening of a wide chamber. Light streamed from it.

  "In," he said. He swung his curved hands, gesturing them with his fused fingers. "In, in, in!"

  Dripping growths of fungus covered the chamber walls. Mounds of dead things, mulched and unidentifiable, nourished the phosphorescent fungus, food for the Anteds. A wet, rancid smell made the air thick and difficult to breathe.

  "What will Ryx do to us?" Bryl asked.

  Consort looked up and bobbed his head, grinning. "Eaten. Fresh. Or added here." He bucked his shoulder to indicate the mounds under the fungus.

  Vailret tapped one of the ingrown plates on the part-human's back.

  "Consort, what is your real name? Do you remember?" he asked.

  "Consort," the part-human said. "Consort." He shuffled ahead and did not look back at them.

  "No, I mean your name as a human character. Do you remember when you first came to Ryx?"

  "Ryx!" Consort lifted his eyes up in a worshipful expression. "Made me Consort. Feeds me."

  "She's changing you into ... this," Vailret said, "with what she's feeding you."

  "Seems to be wrecking his mind, too," Tallin snorted.

  "I wandered map. Scavenger," Consort said. "Then found Ryx." He seemed lost in memory, trying to piece together the scattered dice game of his mind.

  He raked a curved claw-hand across his scalp, tearing up patchy hair. In the green light, Consort's skin looked black and glistening, inhuman.