“It looks real.” Tina glowered at the rat.
“Well, if it helps, rats are carriers of disease and you’re helping the citizens of this city lead happy, healthy lives. Speaking of which…” A glow appeared around her hand and the bite mark went away. “Given that this is the tutorial, I won’t let you get any debuffs.”
“Can I ask a question?” She pushed up and rotated her shoulders to work out the new bruises. “What were those numbers I saw floating up when I fought with the rat?”
“Ah. Do you see the red bar at the top of the screen? That is your health. You want to keep it from reaching zero. At present, you have seventeen of twenty health—or, as they are often referred to, hit points.”
“Charming.”
“You lost a point from falling and two points from the bite. Those will heal over time. You will also find that you lose points when you exert energy. However, as in the real world, the more consistently you do so, the more energy you will begin to have.”
“I don’t know how you’re hoping to sell a video game that’s like going to the gym,” Tina quipped. “But, okay. I level up at things.”
“Yes. For instance, watch this.”
RAT SLAYER, Level 1 flashed on the screen, followed by JOKER, Level 1.
“Huh. Okay. So, what next?”
“Next, you kill two more rats.”
“Oh, no.”
How she managed to make herself kill the rats, she wasn’t sure. She did it, however, and even managed to talk the AI into removing the spatters of blood, which earned her SILVER TONGUE, Level 1.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now, you explore the city.” The AI made the end of the alley flash for a moment. Tina could see people walking up and down a main thoroughfare with carts and market stalls. “Don’t worry, they don’t bite. Most of them, anyway.”
“How reassuring,” she said. She raised her eyebrows at the crowds. “Everyone is better dressed than I am.”
“Yes. You will want to perform small tasks from the market board, which will give you the funds to upgrade your wardrobe. Expect some snide comments in the meantime.”
“Gee, thanks.” She strode to the mouth of the alley. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where the market board is, will you? Of course you won’t. In fact—oh, holy shit. Justin!”
The journey to Riverbend took two days, which was about how long Zaara needed to get over the truly monstrous hangover she’d brought on herself.
Her father was not particularly amused by that. He hadn’t wanted to stay in East Newbrook for another day, but her carousing had lasted for several hours and she had lost track of how many beers she had consumed.
It was enough that Lyle had been proud of her, which handily explained the hangover.
She was half-afraid that her father would go back on his word when they got home, but on the second day, when they could see Riverbend in the distance, he turned to her and said, “I know you didn’t have to come back. I also know I can’t keep you in Riverbend if you don’t want to stay.”
Half-sure that the hangover was playing tricks on her ears, she stared blankly at him. “I’m…sorry, what?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “When I got to East Newbrook and saw you drinking with those men, I wanted to think they had brainwashed you somehow. You don’t understand what it was like with your mother asking me when you’d be home and trying to find a way to send people after you when they might not go if they knew you’d left on your own. And then we received word that Sephith was gone, but we still didn’t know if you were okay. I arrived and saw you and I was so angry that you could joke and laugh when we were sick with worry.”
Zaara stared at her hands while guilt twisted in her belly. “Father—”
“Even when you were as drunk as a dwarf in that inn, you wore your daggers better than any guard I’ve ever had,” he said ruefully. “And I remembered you running off every chance you had when you were little. You’d climb onto the roof and leap off or escape on market day. Did you think we didn’t know about your magic teacher and your sword fighting lessons? We knew but we thought it might give you enough of a taste of adventure to stay home.”
She cleared her throat awkwardly.
“There’s nothing I could do that would keep you in Riverbend,” her father said. “I’m sure you could pick locks or burn a jail cell down—and what kind of father would I be if I trapped you?”
“Then why did you make me come home?” she burst out.
“I didn’t.” He looked steadily at her. “You offered, Zaara, and you drove a hard bargain and made me agree to let you go adventuring again. Do you really think you’ll make a noble marriage if you’re known to be a highwayman?”
Zaara shrugged.
“I think you came back because you felt bad about leaving the way you did,” he guessed. “You know you have an obligation to your family. Everyone does—to their family and their town. So what I’m asking you to do is find a way to fulfill that—and not only adventuring but something that will last for your children and their children.”
She had thought about those words all through her tearful reunion with her mother and an ale with her brother at the inn. For some reason, she lingered around the house, helped carry pails of water, and brushed the horses. She took a long walk around the town and greeted the people she hadn’t seen in months.
Finally, she went to her room and retrieved the orb Kural had given her.
The spell to activate it was simple and he appeared soon after. He looked tired as if he had not slept since she last saw him—which, she thought, he might not have.
“Zaara.” His gaze took in her surroundings. “You’re home, are you?”
“Yes.” She explained the situation, then added, “I think I’ve decided what I want to do.”
“Is it, ‘return to East Newbrook and be a wizard’s apprentice?’” he asked hopefully. “Because, let me tell you, I could use your help.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a moment. “Hmm. Maybe my plan won’t work, then. I wanted to stay here and be your apprentice.”
“Oh, really?” He leaned back in his chair. “Explain.”
“You protected the people of East Newbrook,” she began. “Everyone in the valley knew you would resolve disputes and protect them from armies, everything like that. You could heal people and make sure the crops grew well. My father spoke to me about leaving a legacy for my community, and I think this could be mine. I want to build a wizard’s tower here in Riverbend and protect my people.”
Kural considered this with a somber expression. “Are you sure?” he asked finally. “To be a wizard is to live for nigh on a thousand years. My mentor was over eight hundred years old when he trained me, and the woman who trained him was still living at one thousand two hundred.”
“So?”
“So you will not only see your parents grow old and die, but your brother as well, and his children, and their children,” he explained gently. “There is a reason so many wizards settle in a different place than where they were born. There is joy to be had in a long life and much wisdom, but there is also grief, Zaara.”
“I know.” She swallowed. “But I want to do this. I wanted to be your apprentice when you asked before. I’ve wanted to learn more sorcery for years. And…I want my name to be remembered.” She colored with embarrassment. “I used to get so disgusted with my father for saying that he wanted our family to be remembered, but I want the same thing. As a wizard, I could train my successor and know that I was leaving Riverbend in good hands.”
He smiled. “You’re forgetting how strongly the winds of fate can blow, Zaara. I’ll help you, I will—but this will not make you omnipotent. People will still make their own choices, even ruinous ones. There will still be storms and droughts and wars that are out of your control. Remember that.”
Zaara nodded. “Every life has powerlessness and grief and every life has loneliness. Kural, you trained me and you know me. You know I can do th
is.”
“I do.” He nodded. “And, as it happens, I have a solution to your problem that does not require me to spend as much time teaching.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. A new sorceress has arrived in Insea, a woman of some renown. I heard whispers that she is seeking the sorceress who slew Sephith.”
She sat bolt upright. “Wait…really? You knew this and you didn’t tell me?”
“I was waiting for you to contact me—and for more confirmation. It is clear that her search is for you and it seems, from what I hear, that she is trustworthy. Or as trustworthy as a wizard can be.” Kural smiled. “So, while I confirm that, I will give you a skill that will let you train with her without leaving Riverbend and will help me keep a promise to Justin.”
“Oh?” She leaned forward, interested in what he had to share.
“It’s called shadow-walking,” he explained. “It will let you be in another place…almost entirely. You will be able to explore the king’s storerooms—”
“And look for the third key,” she finished.
“Precisely.” He nodded. “If it is there, I believe I can convince the master of ceremonies to make it the prize for the tournament. However, I do not have the time to search for it myself and the shadow-walking would hone your skills.”
“Teach me!” Zaara bounced in her seat. “Please?”
“May I say,” Kural interjected, “that a little bird told me you want to be a death sorceress and I’m not entirely sure you have the proper demeanor for that.”
“I know.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I can’t be that if I take care of everyone here. It’ll only be…you know, a hobby.”
“Quite a hobby to pick,” he said in open amusement. “Very well. Here is the spell.”
Chapter Sixty-Nine
The journey to Insea involved pleasant weather and deeply unpleasant terrain. The King’s Road was the only thing that made the exercise bearable, providing an evenly paved path through increasingly difficult hills. More often than not, one side of the road or both plunged into marshland or cliffs, which meant that Justin and Lyle needed to walk far into the night to find a place to rest.
The dwarf was of the opinion that the road had been made this way to ward off any invading armies, while his companion argued often—and loudly—that the road was this way because the elves couldn’t take a hint when they found a site for their city.
“I bet the whole place is cursed,” he said on the third day. “How much clearer a sign can you get that something doesn’t want you to get to this place?”
“On the contrary, I very much want you to get there,” the AI said crisply.
“What, so I leave the game?” he muttered.
“No, so you stop bitching about this damned road. On the other hand, you being gone forever does have a certain appeal.”
He rolled his eyes and focused on his lunch. When he looked up, Lyle had a strange smile on his face. “What? What is it?”
“So, the city is cursed?” his friend asked.
“I’m not saying it’s definitely cursed. I’m only saying it’s awfully coincidental that—what? Why are you smiling like that?”
The dwarf grinned like a loon. “So, there’s no reason anyone would want to go to Insea?”
He folded his arms and waited for him to explain the joke. Lyle, for his part, clearly wanted to hold out but beckoned him to follow as he climbed the next rise. The road, for most of the past day, had been a series of rolling hills that made Justin’s calves ache until he had cursed the doctor, the makers of the game, and everyone involved in this all too realistic simulation.
Now, he sighed and walked to the top of the hill, fully expecting to see another twenty identical hills stretched before him. Instead, the ground sloped away and the road wound through beautiful fields and gardens until it reached the city.
“Wow.” Justin exhaled an awed breath.
Insea was everything he had imagined but so beautiful it made his heart ache. He had never been one for architecture but he had to admit there was something inspiring about the way the buildings gleamed in the sunlight. Distant spires and arches, solid walls of translucent stone, and everything in the city seemed almost lit from within.
“Ye sat down for lunch too soon,” Lyle said, with a grin. “I noticed just now when I was stretching me legs.”
He sank into a crouch, cursed his legs again, and laughed in wonder. “This is gorgeous.”
“And you wondered why they moved heaven an’ earth to build a city here,” the dwarf said smugly. He thought for a moment. “Well…the elves were never ones to let practicalities stand in the way of being floopy, pretty bastards, ʼspecially when they could get someone else to do the work for them.”
“They must have paid well,” he said with a laugh. “Otherwise, I don’t see what the dwarves got out of it.”
“A blessin’ an’ a curse,” his companion said philosophically. “We got our hands on that gorgeous hunk of rock an’ all the training we’d need to make our own cities. Since then, we’ve chased the dream of finding a place half as beautiful as Insea—or, Elfholt. That’s what we call it.”
Justin began to pack his gear up with newfound energy. “Batholemew seemed to think it was only a legend that the dwarves built it. I was joking when I mentioned them but it seems like you’re sure.”
“I grew up hearing tales of Elfholt,” Lyle said and shouldered his pack. “A city that shone like the sun, made from the most gorgeous rock you ever saw, carved by tools and magic alike, of elven design and dwarven make. No one ever told me where it was—it’s a legend to us, too. But now I’ve seen Insea…that’s it. I knew at a glance.” Wistfully, he added, “This is the first time in years I’ve wanted to go home. I want to show me da’ this.”
“You can,” he told him as the road led him down the long slope toward the city. “You can go home as the hero who slew a wizard and won the tournament of Elfholt and bring your family here to live in style.”
Lyle responded with an unwilling laugh. “None o’ them ever knew why I wanted to leave. Dwarves don’t leave. For this, though…”
“So, why’d you leave?” Justin asked.
“I went…what’s it you humans say? Stir-crazy, that’s it. Dwarves don’t even have a word for it, see. A few leave every generation. I found that out when I did. Their families cover it up. I couldn’t stay—an’ I had siblings, so it’s not like my parents were hard up.” Lyle shrugged. “Oh, they were angry, though. Still, I wasn’t the eldest, so it’s not like I was s’posed to carry on the family name.”
Justin tried to imagine Lyle as a family man and village elder, and his brain shorted out. “Huh.”
“I reckon they might forgive me if I showed ʼem Elfholt, though,” Lyle said contentedly. “And, after all, I promised ye a dwarven bride.”
“I told you, I need to go home.” That was the most diplomatic way he could find to get out of this insane marriage plan his friend was concocting.
“Don’t do yourself the disservice of leaving afore ye see dwarven women,” the dwarf advised. “But, first things first. We have to win that tournament.”
“Uh-huh. Yes.” He tried to hide the horrified look on his face. “Yep, that’s a good place to focus first.”
Justin expected a huge crowd of visitors trying to gain entry to Insea and was pleasantly surprised, instead, to see the gates standing open and no guards at all. When he expressed his astonishment, his companion guffawed.
“Oh, the king’s craftier than ye’d think. No one’s seen him in years. Everyone knows Insea has no guards an’ everyone knows it’s never been conquered.”
“Wait, seriously?” He couldn’t imagine a place as beautiful as this—with storerooms so full that the king gave away treasure to adventurers—going unconquered. “So, is the king elven?”
“Maybe?” The dwarf shrugged. “That’s the guess, anyway. No one really knows. The city never has drought or famine, no riots, the nobles are mere
ly the families that have stayed rich for generations.”
“And no one ever sees the king?” He had stopped but now hurried after Lyle. “You’re seriously telling me no one is curious about this? A city that runs itself? Like…an AI?”
“Good luck explaining that one to him,” it snarked.
He rolled his eyes.
The dwarf, luckily, seemed to not have noticed. “Oh, people are curious, all right. There are always a few new theories floating around. Some people say Insea is the city of the gods an’ they move around here unseen an’ keep people safe.” He shrugged. “Me, I wasn’t too interested in a place where nothin’ ever goes wrong, ye ken?”
Justin, who was having dreams of living in a beautiful stone city that never got dirty and never had famine or war, suddenly felt very boring. He shook his head and followed along the boulevard, keeping an eye out for shops. The blacksmith of East Newbrook had improved his armor before he and Lyle left the town, but he’d advised him to get a new sword belt, new boots, new leathers for under the armor, and a proper shield.
There was a truly astounding amount of weaponry and armor on sale for a city that never saw war, but the multiple signs advertising tournament gear explained that.
He chuckled. “Maybe the king knows there’s a war coming and the tournament is a way to make sure the populace is all trained up.”
“Ye’ve got what it takes to be a prophet,” Lyle said with grudging respect.
“A prophet?”
“Ye know, one o’ those on street corners, yelling about the secret cabals an’ the end times.”
“Oh…where I come from, we call those conspiracy theorists. Or crackpots.”
“Ha, crackpots. I like that.” The dwarf looked around critically. “Business don’t seem to be too good. That’s interestin’.”
“Not for a week,” one of the shopkeepers said. He was a lithe young man with boots of deep-red leather, and he sat glumly on his stool. “Not since the sixth win for the Twins.”
Lyle leaned on the man’s table. He raised an eyebrow for more details as he pored over the daggers on display. “Twins?” he asked.
Too Young to Die Page 49
