Too Young to Die

by Michael Anderle

  Several assistants were rostered but had never yet been alone with Justin and gave nervous thumbs-up while they all avoided looking at Mary. Having seen their dedication and care—not to mention having met several of the nurses and on-call doctors at this point—she had no concerns about their presence. In fact, she was comforted by their jitters as it meant they were taking this seriously.

  She and the others left down the main hallway, joking about the game. She had developed quite a friendship with Zaara. “If friendship is the right word,” she said with a laugh. “Since she isn’t…real.”

  For a split-second, she thought she caught a glance between Jacob and DuBois, but it was gone quickly and the young man said smoothly, “As you noted with Justin, part of the beauty of games like this is that the emotions they provoke are real, even if the situations aren’t.”

  Mary nodded. She had always rolled her eyes when she saw news reports of people getting addicted to games, but she thought she could understand now. In the world of the game, she was able to see the impacts of what she did. She was able to try being someone else without having to run away to join the circus, as her grandmother would have said.

  They had reached the lobby when the shouting became audible.

  “Oh, fuck,” Amber said. She pointed outside.

  Signs were being waved and people yelled insults at the building. Her heart sank. “How did they find out where we were?” She looked over her shoulder. “Did Tina tell them?”

  “No,” a new voice said. Anna Price strode across the lobby. She looked as elegant as she had that morning with not a hair out of place or even a slight wrinkle in her suit. “Ms. Castro was already in the pod by the time the post was made online about the location of the laboratory. Whoever did this likely trailed one of you here.” She held a hand up. “Please do not apologize. I made the conscious choice to not restrict all of you to the building.” Her smile was surprisingly calm. “Now. my car is waiting and all of us can leave together. Remember, the protesters will only shout at you. Look at the car and do not look at them. Come along.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” Mary said quietly.

  “If you stop to think about it, you won’t be,” the other woman advised. She placed her hand in the small of her back and ushered her forward without ceremony. “Think of something else. Distract yourself. But keep walking.”

  Whatever Mary had expected, the protest was worse. The doors opened into a roar of noise. A quick scan—she shouldn’t look, but she couldn’t help it—showed twenty or more protesters, all shouting at her. Accusations hit her from all directions, vile things she tried not to hear but that slid under her guard anyway.

  She didn’t remember folding into the car, only the feeling of it lurching into motion. Shocked, she laid her head against the headrest and tried not to let tears escape from the corners of her eyes.

  “They don’t know what’s going on,” Jacob said. When she raised her head, she could see him fighting for calm. “That much is clear. I don’t know what they were told—”

  “That Senator Williams had allowed his son to be used for a military experiment,” Anna Price said simply. “It was strongly suggested that Diatek is using Justin to pilot drones without releasing him from his coma.” She shook her head slightly. “The mechanics weren’t explained, of course—but that’s the best way to spread a rumor. Point someone in a vague direction and let them dream up horrific things to fill in the blanks. People are always more attached to the story when they dream it up themselves.”

  “I can’t stand this,” Mary whispered. “People we know must be wondering if it’s true—”

  “We’ll need to make a statement,” the CEO said absently. An assistant who had entered the car with them began to take notes furiously. “I thought we could ride this out, but not if we’re playing against lobbyists. They won’t let it fade away.”

  The passengers fell into miserable silence before Jacob said, “You know what? Screw this. If they knew the facts and it was their family, they’d do the same thing. Mary, I’ve never said this, but I envy you—I wish every day that I had been able to see my grandmother recover. When this is over, people will know the truth. All that’s going on right now is mud-slinging.”

  Price nodded at him with a smile. “Exactly correct, Mr. Zachary. And Mrs. Williams, rest assured I will not let your husband’s career suffer from that mud-slinging. I’ve built up a reserve of favors to call in for situations exactly like this. Let me use them now.”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  By silent agreement, Justin and Tina didn’t talk about the accident or the outside world. Thankfully, he had innumerable stories from his brief stint in the game and the conversation flowed easily. After finding accommodation for the night, they sat outside on one of the patios and watched people wander past in the streets as they chatted.

  “That’s a lie,” she challenged and laughed. “There’s no way you stabbed yourself in the chest. Your sword is too long for that.”

  “No, not my chest, my clone’s chest.” He grinned. “Although…I am open to any accusations of my sword being too long.”

  She snorted into her beer.

  “Don’t you laugh. You don’t know. It might be.”

  “Uh-huh. Wouldn’t you prefer a sword that’s not too short, not too long, but exactly right?”

  “A Goldilocks sword?” he asked and snickered.

  “That’s disgusting, man. She was a little girl.”

  “For fuck’s sake—”

  “Oh, did you plan to use it on the three bears?”

  He dropped his head onto the table with a thud. “I give up,” he said over the sound of her laughter. “No swords. No bears. And definitely no porridge.”

  “Yeah, that’s a way to get a nasty burn. But don’t let me tell you how to live your life.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “By the way, is that our lunatic dwarf running through the crowd?”

  Justin raised his head to look. “Yes. Yes, it is. Good evening, Stout. Let me buy you a beer.”

  “Thanks.” Lyle panted and dropped into the empty seat at the table. “I could use one…after that run. Oh. Three days without a fight and I’m already a goner. I had to tell ye, though.”

  “Tell us what?” He signaled to the bartender for a beer.

  “Skirmishes,” the dwarf blustered, still panting. “It’s a new thing. The Master of Ceremonies… announced it… Oh, I shouldn’t run like that.”

  “Didn’t you defeat a demon army?” Tina asked him quizzically.

  “Yes.” He glared at her. “Which means I’d appreciate more benefit of the doubt from you, young lady. Justin tells me ye’re some kind of legendary warrior but I’ve not seen it yet, have I?”

  “Yes. He did say that.” She gave Justin a hard look as she sipped her beer. “I can only endeavor to do justice to the stories he’s told.”

  He cleared his throat and became very interested in his beer. “So,” he said brightly. “Tell us about the skirmishes.”

  Thankfully, Lyle was diverted. “Ah. Yes. It seems the Master of Ceremonies hasn’t been able to get anyone else to challenge the Twins, has he? So he decided to pause the clock before the final round. We’ll have three days of open skirmishes with no standing in the final tournament. There’ll be prizes for the skirmishes—not so big but nothin’ t’sneeze at, it sounds like.”

  “Hmm.” Justin frowned. “I suppose it’s a good idea. People fight, they get more confident…they decide maybe they do have a shot against the Twins…”

  “And the grand tournament isn’t simply a sad spectacle with a foregone conclusion,” Tina finished. “Smart guy. You’d think he would simply say the previous winner couldn’t compete in the next tournament or something, though.”

  He nodded. “On the other hand, this does give us quite an interesting opportunity. The Twins are shutting the tournament down, but the ones who finally beat them…well, they’d be legends, wouldn’t they?”

  �
��You’re already a legend,” she pointed out.

  “Not here,” Lyle said. “In New Eastbrook—”

  “East Newbrook,” Justin corrected.

  “Whatever, it’s at the ass-end of nowhere.” The dwarf took his mug of beer with a muttered thanks. “That’s my point. No one cares. Killed a wizard? A hundred people here say they’ve killed wizards.”

  “But we actually did,” he pointed out.

  “They don’t know that, do they?”

  He gave Tina a pleading look.

  “Pics or it didn’t happen,” she explained in an undertone. “It’s the same everywhere, Williams. The thing is, they don’t have cameras here so you’re shit outta luck.”

  Justin sighed. “Okay. Well, since no one knows any of us and Tina could use some…uh…chances to adapt to our team and communication style, why don’t we enter in the skirmishes?”

  “Exactly my thought,” Lyle agreed. “That’s why I signed us up for tomorrow morning.”

  “You what?” she asked.

  “We should get some rest,” the young man said loudly. “After all, we have to get up bright and early and make our reputations, right?”

  “Justin, so help me—”

  He pushed smoothly to his feet and pulled her chair out so she had to stand hurriedly. “You know you’ll never feel ready,” he said to her with a bright grin. “So I say we dive into the deep end.”

  “You listen here, you shitbag,” Tina whispered sharply. She clearly tried not to laugh, but she also managed a good deadpan glare. “I went out on a date with a man who didn’t come out of his room all that often, and he’s the one I came here to save—not a psycho who decides to enter gladiatorial contests on a whim. Too soon?”

  Justin was laughing too hard to answer. He waved his hand to the inn and tried to recover his composure. “Duly noted, Madame Rogue. Let’s all go to our rooms and you can spend the night dreaming up properly pointed nicknames for me.”

  “Oh, I am so ready for this.” She cracked her knuckles. “Hey, knuckles crack, here! I appreciate that attention to detail.”

  A scant few hours later, Tina bounced anxiously in place while nerves seared through her until she couldn’t tell if she would levitate or fall. The waiting area for the arena was made of the same ever-present rock, now a golden color that seemed to hold the sunlight from far above. She and the others stood on a platform of stone, which had—as far as she could tell—no pulleys or levers to make it move anywhere.

  “Citizens and travelers!” The voice resounded above them in the arena, magically amplified. “For the first skirmish, I bring you something truly special—two of our finest teams from Season Three of the tournament and Insea’s most intriguing newcomers. First, I bring you the team that landed the most impressive strike of Season Three, the silent assassins, the sure-footed dancers themselves—the Yanevas!”

  The stadium erupted into wild cheers and the platform beneath her feet began to move smoothly upward. Her throat lurched.

  “I wonder what a Yaneva is,” Justin muttered.

  “Only in Insea would they think it’s good,” Lyle told him. “They…let’s simply say they traded on certain talents.”

  His companions stared expectantly at him.

  “O’ course, Insea remembers them as a fancy, elite infantry,” the dwarf continued and gestured with his hands.

  “Wait, I have so many questions,” Justin said, but the Master of Ceremonies’ voice echoed again, almost deafening now that the group was closer to the arena.

  “If you’ve wondered who could possibly challenge the first team, wonder no more. We have secured a repeat performance from…Quartzfire!”

  Lyle nodded in deep approval of this name and again, his friends exchanged baffled glances.

  “Yes!” the MC announced over the sound of cheering, “the most favored team of Season Three, very cruelly whisked away from Insea to avoid spoilsports such as the tax collectors”—laughter erupted in the stadium—“has returned. They assure us they have done so legally, although we have been given very questionable names, in order to give us the showdown we all wanted so many weeks ago. Please welcome our dwarven friends, Quartzfire!”

  The laughter continued and this time, Lyle provided an explanation. “No dwarf would call themselves that. They must be humans calling themselves dwarves to dodge taxes. It’s not all that uncommon for prize-fighters and it’s how we get most of our non-dwarven citizens.”

  “Huh.” Tina looked at Justin and a smile tugged at her lips. “I guess no matter where you go, people are all the same.”

  He grinned in response but before he could speak, the awning over their platform slid back and sunlight poured in. The group peered upward, startled.

  “Who would be a fitting match for these two champions?” the Master of Ceremonies continued. “Surely the only fitting complement to two such favorites would be an entirely new team, one poised to steal the hearts of Insea’s citizens. Heroes from a far-away land, these brave fighters have defeated opponents we could only dream of. I bring you…Sephith’s Bane!”

  “Good name,” Justin told Lyle as the platform slid up to show the team to the stadium. The two of them waved and Tina followed suit. “Wow, it’s, uh…it’s quite something to see this many people looking at me.”

  “Ye’ve fought demons,” the dwarf said. “An’ this intimidates ye?”

  “I haven’t fought demons,” Tina whispered.

  “Sure you have,” Justin told her. “The Elder Castros.”

  She snorted with laughter at the mention of her parents. “Truly, soul-sucking bastards.”

  “What do they do with the souls?” Lyle asked, intrigued.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she whispered dramatically and fixed him with a somber look. She ignored Justin’s unsuccessful attempt to keep from laughing. “I am the third in my line and only I have succeeded where the others failed. Two brave heroes fell before me and became their thralls.”

  “Oh, well done,” Justin muttered. “But, uh…don’t you two think we should look at the arena?”

  “Right.” They snapped to attention.

  The battlefield looked like no landscape Tina had ever seen. She had expected there to be barriers of some kind, all on the golden rock. Instead, magic—it could only be magic—had conjured a strange, alien landscape. Tumbled boulders were piled between stands of trees with gray bark and brilliant leaves that rustled like crystals.

  She scanned the area with a small frown. “What’s that?” To one side of them, a few boulders away, was one that looked subtly different. “Is that one of the supply caches? It is!” Now that she studied it more closely, she could see the little door that would open and reveal the treasure inside.

  “Good work!” Justin grinned at her. “Let’s get some weapons.” As one of the conditions of the skirmishes, contestants could bring their own armor, minus any enchantments, but all weapons would be found inside the arena. One of the trials each team would face would be to find a cache, arm themselves, and base their fighting style on what they found.

  A magical border glowed around them and the whole stadium counted down together. Despite her reservations, Tina’s anticipation level increased. She’d always been the one who tried to get out of presenting and had even skipped school on days she was supposed to have recitals, much to her parents’ annoyance.

  This, however, was something entirely different. Her blood began to pump with unexpected vigor and she grinned as she settled into a runners’ crouch.

  When the horn sounded to start the match, she raced forward with her two teammates. She was light on her feet and always had been, and she was able to hurdle the boulder-strewn terrain with only one slip. Lyle caught her, she did the same for him, and they both consequently reached the cache a few steps behind Justin, who grinned smugly.

  He pressed the glowing rune on the side of the false boulder, and it sprang open to display a selection of daggers.

  All da
ggers.

  “Well, good for me,” Tina said, her smile broad. She also took a few vials of liquid. “What are these?”

  “They give yer weapon flames—or wind powers, or water.” The dwarf looked suspiciously at her. “Aren’t ye a legendary warrior?”

  “Where I come from,” she said, “we don’t use hacks like this.” She picked up a blue vial. “I have to say, though, I’m interested to see what the power of water will do with daggers.” She opened the vial and dipped one of the blades into it.

  “Well…” Justin made sample passes with his chosen weapons. “It looks like I’ll have to fight at close range. I tell you, I’ll be pissed if the other teams have bows and arrows.”

  “Nah,” she pointed out cheerfully. “If they do, you simply need to wait for them to run out of arrows.”

  “Very true.” He held a hand out, concentrated for a moment, and blew out an annoyed breath. “No magic here. Phooey.”

  “Less yappin’, more movin’,” Lyle told them shortly. He had dipped his blades into a bottle of black liquid that Tina found disturbing. “Or haven’t ye noticed that we’re attractin’ attention?” He nodded his head to the area of the arena behind them.

  She turned to look and gulped reflexively. The other team now headed directly toward them.

  In fact, she realized in sudden alarm, both of them did.

  “Quick,” she said to Justin. “Left or right?”

  He studied their two sets of opponents quickly. “Right,” he said definitively. “When we get close, follow Lyle. You’ll know what I mean when it happens.”

  Tina nodded and the three of them leapt into action. The cache had vanished into thin air as soon as the treasures were removed, and they bounded away over rocks to meet their chosen opponents.

  The three were all tall and lean, unused to the terrain but clearly warriors. Two of them could only have been brothers as they had the same eyes and tousled, dark-brown hair. The third had longer hair with a tinge of red tied in a braid, and he hung back behind the other two.