The Raids on Zeebrugge & Ostend 1918: The Royal Navy Attacks on the German Occupied Belgian Coast During the First World War-Ostend and Zeebrugge by C. Sanford Terry & Zeebrugge Affair by Keble Howard
Author: C. Sanford Terry; Keble Howard
Date: 2016-10-24 00:00:00+00:00
Description: The 1918 amphibious raids on the Belgian coast After three years of grinding attrition, the First World War on the Western Front remained in a stalemate with the German and Allied armies stuck in opposing trenches divided by a barbed-wire fringed, cratered no-man’s-land. When the United States of America entered the contest there could be little doubt of an ultimate allied victory. Irrespective of the introduction of fresh fighting men, war materiel and other supplies were already streaming across the Atlantic Ocean to further the allied cause. To prevent the arrival of these supplies and to d
Publisher: Oakpast

Blades VR

Book 3 - Raid

Terry Schott
www.terryschott.com
www.terryschott.com/mailing-list

Copyright

Blades VR

Book 3:Raid

©2018 by Terry Schott

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express, written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

––––––––

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Epilogue

The Crumbs

Acknowledgements

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Chapter 1

Custodian Zecaras and the crafter, Lirana, stood at the edge of the clear pool and watched the scene unfold on the water’s surface.

The front door to the wizard’s tower opened and the godling emerged. She paused in the doorway, looked up toward the sky, and closed her eyes as if basking in the sunlight. A few seconds later, she opened them and began to walk down the path toward the road. Black leather boots flitted into and then out of sight, disappearing with each stride behind the rich purple cloth of her dress. Two crafters stood on the road, neither moving as the girl approached.

When she was a few feet from them she stopped, crossed her arms, and stared. Then, her icy blue eyes flashed, and she stretched out a hand. Suddenly, one crafter was lifted from the ground and pulled toward the girl, the air hissing as he passed through the invisible barrier that separated them.

“Interesting,” Custodian Zecaras muttered, one hand coming up to stroke his long white beard.

The crafter jerked to a sudden stop, floating inches above the ground a hand’s length away from the girl’s outstretched fingertips. The godling began to hum; a high-pitched sound that grew over time in both volume and intensity. As the sound reached its crescendo, a white light streaked from her hands and swirled around her victim.

She continued to hum, the white mist thickening. The crafter’s eyes widened and he began to moan, the awful bleating of his voice adding an eerie counter-melody to that of the girl. Eventually the moan became a scream of pain and terror, head tilted back, mouth open wide.

The godling clenched her fist and twisted it sharply. A loud cracking sounded from within the crafter’s body.

The screaming stopped, to be replaced by total silence as the man’s limp body slumped to the ground.

The girl considered the broken corpse for the period of three heartbeats. Then she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and looked at the other crafter.

Eyes wide, the magic-user turned and began to sprint away. She managed to take only a few steps before, in the same manner as her partner, she was swept off her feet and sailed through the air.

Custodian Zecaras and Lirana watched the second crafter die exactly as the first had. When the deed was finished, the godling looked left and then right. Her lips turned downwards into a pouting expression as she turned and made her way slowly up the path, soon disappearing into the tower. Zecaras waved his hand and the scene dissolved from the water’s surface.

“She drained them,” Lirana said.

“It.”

Lirana frowned.

“That creature is no more a girl than I am a manticore.”

“What is she—it—then?”

“A godling.”

Lirana shook her head. “I’m not familiar with the name.”

“I would be surprised if you were. They were banished from this world so long ago that they exist only as children’s stories. When crafters were more plentiful in the world, they often warred amongst themselves. Petty fights over land, titles, resources.”

“I’m familiar with that lore.”

“At one point in history, a powerful crafter came up with a plan to conquer the others. He created a powerful summoning spell that could call forth a being capable of not only resisting magic, but feeding on it. Three beautiful, innocent children were selected to house these demons from another reality and—” he closed his eyes and shook his head before opening them and continuing, “—the crafter went to work creating his monsters.”

“You look unsettled, talking about it.”

“The children were forced to drink blood from dying people.”

“Dead?”

“No, dying. A victim’s throat was slit and the child was pushed into the stream of blood until it ingested some. At least a drop, but the child was held in the gush of blood until the victim was drained, to make certain some of the blood had been taken in.”

Lirana shrugged. “That does sound disturbing, but there are worse rituals that I can think of.”

“The children resisted at first, pleading and screaming out in an attempt to avoid their fate.”

“Understandable.”

“By the fiftieth victim, they were no longer resisting. Instead, it was the children who were cutting the necks open and drinking as much as they could.”

“Oh.”

“By victim one hundred, the crafters needed to use force to pull the younglings away from the corpses.”

“A hundred? How many did they drink from?”

“For the transformation to be complete, each child had to drink from one hundred thousand victims.”

“What?” Lirana’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s—”

“Considerable?”

“Insane. Who was the evil magic-user responsible for such a travesty?”

“That’s the thing. It wasn’t someone evil. At least not remembered by history as being evil.” He paused. “It was a crafter named Traeliorn Valxina.”

Lirana gasped. “No!”

Zecaras pursed his lips and nodded.

“The hero of ages?”

“The very same.”

“But. I don’t—” Lirana shook her head. “You’re telling me that the most powerful white crafter ever to have lived—”

“Also committed such acts of abomination that the world was never the same afterward.”

“What did these godlings do? Once they were fully created.”

“They travelled the land of Preu Treya, sniffing out and feasting on everything that possessed even the smallest amount of magic, to feed their insatiable appetites.”

“They were created to destroy all magic?”

He nodded. “Every last drop of it.”

“That’s what led to the Unification?”

“Yes. After the godlings got out of hand, Traeliorn Valxina realized that his creation must be stopped. He gathered all the remaining crafters and convinced them to set aside their differences—to unify—in order to defeat the godlings.”

“How did they do it? If the godlings fed on magic and could not be harmed by it, how did the crafters manage to stop them?”

“No one knows how. Only that they did.”

“And then they formed an alliance that has lasted ever since.”

“For thousands of years, yes.”

Lirana’s eyes flicked towards the scrying pool. “Are you certain that thing is a godling?”

Custodian Zecaras nodded. “I am afraid so.”

“If we don’t know how our ancestors defeated it, then how can we hope to do so ourselves?”

“I have no clue.”

“Perhaps it is confined by the barrier?”

“Until a few minutes ago, I was one hundred percent certain that nothing could cross that barrier. But she pulled our brother and sister through as if it weren’t there.”

“Yes, but she did not go past the barrier herself. If she could get out, wouldn’t she?”

Custodian Zecaras raised one eyebrow. “Something tells me that, eventually, she will.”

Chapter 2

Mercy lifted the small iron pot from the fire with a pair of tongs and brought it close to her face. She examined the bubbling liquid, took a shallow sniff, and poured the fluorescent blue contents into a silver chalice. Then she carried the cup to Xander, where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you.” He accepted the chalice with both hands and raised it to his lips.

“Drink it all. As quickly as you can.”

He flinched from the heat but gulped it down. Mercy watched him with a critical eye and gave him a single nod of approval as he finished and handed the cup back to her.

“Now lie back.”

“I will see the Dark Lady again?”

“Maybe.” She sat on the chair beside him and shrugged. “Most do not.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be disappointed. It’s rare for anyone to meet her even once.”

“I thought everyone did.”

Mercy shook her head. “They see something of her. A sign, or symbol.”

“What about you?” Xander looked up at the ceiling and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you meet her?”

Mercy hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

“What did she say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. You should focus on your own journey.”

“I am.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Xander turned his head toward her. His mouth opened and he yawned.

“Do not fight it.”

“I’m not.”

“You should already be asleep.”

“Soon.” He looked at the ceiling once more. “Any tips before I fade off?”

“Do your best.”

“Sound advice.”

“Be yourself.”

“That was motivational.” The word came out slurred. His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became slower, deeper.

Mercy touched two fingers against his throat. Then she nodded and stood, crossing her arms as she stared down at his still form. “Come back in one piece, apprentice.”

Chapter 3

Kara heard a light knock against her door frame and looked up.

“Hey.” Isaac entered the room and sat in the empty chair near her desk.

“Hi.” She pushed her keyboard forward and leaned her forearms against the edge of the desk. “Almost ready?”

Isaac ran a hand through his hair. “Almost.”

“What’s left to do?”

“For me, nothing.” He spread his hands. “Fen needed a few more hours, though.”

“Fen?”

“Jeremy,” Isaac laughed. “I figured it’s best to start calling him by his game name now. That way I reduce the risk of slipping up inside.”

“That’s a good idea.”

He winked. “Are players still getting kicked?”

“Yes,” she said. “Nowhere near as many as before, but it’s still happening.”

“Persecution?”

“That’s right.”

Isaac’s lips pursed and he shook his head. “I wish we could figure out what’s caused the NPCs to go so crazy when it comes to interacting with players.”

“Do you think Sebastian programmed it to happen? As a safety measure so that he could hide from us easier?”

“No. It’s too drastic for him to cause. Plus, it puts him in danger as well.”

“It’s effective, though.”

Isaac shook his head. “He doesn’t want Blades VR to fail.”

“What if the NPC attitude is only a temporary thing?”

“It could be.” Isaac reached for Kara’s cup and raised it to his lips.

“Help yourself.”

He grinned and set the cup back on the desk. “Thanks.”

“I’m nervous. About running things while you’re inside.”

“Don’t be. You’ll do great, Kare.”

“In the short term, but what if something goes wrong in there and you…”

“Die?”

“It’s a serious possibility, Isaac.”

“The odds of that happening are very small, but still worth the risk at this point.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Jeremy—Fen—is my best hope for locating Sebastian. If I can get in fast and find him…” He shrugged. “The glitches and bugs are getting worse. Soon they will affect gameplay and system stability.”

“I doubt that he’ll be able to fix them from inside the game.”

“I have a feeling he can.”

Kara raised one eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

“Seb was always a control freak.”

“Like someone else I know.”

“We were similar,” Isaac smirked. “Just in different areas of the business. He didn’t care much about the financial end of things, but he was thorough and informed when it came to all technical aspects. Maybe that’s why we made such a great team. He built the magic and I sold it.”

“I guess you’re right. It does make sense that he would have some way to access the programming matrix from inside.”

“Thing is, he’s likely too close to see what’s happening. My guess is he isn’t aware of the serious issues popping up. If I can locate him and bring him up to speed on the overall situation, I have to believe that he will help.”

Kara stood and moved to the coffee pot. She refilled her mug. “Promise me that no matter what happens in there, you will come back as quick as you can. Investors are starting to request meetings with you. I’ll only be able to hold them off for a short time. If they try and storm the gates again…”

“Don’t worry.” Isaac grinned. “Tyson Griffin is the only one with his own private military, that I know of.” Kara opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. “Relax. It will be fine. Fen and I will go in, find Sebastian, and then come back out. You have nothing to worry about.”

***

Jeremy Granger checked the final item off of his list and scanned the faces seated around the table. “That’s all I have. Anyone else?”

No one spoke.

“Good. Everyone can go except Tina. Thanks, folks.”

The team members stood and made their way out of the room. When only Jeremy and Tina remained, he shut the door and returned to sit at the table. He withdrew a small device from his jacket, pressed a button on the piece of hardware and set it on the table. Tina pulled her cell phone out and handed it to Jeremy.

“Thanks.” He removed a thin, shiny mesh bag from another pocket and placed both his phone and Tina’s inside, sealing it and setting it on the table beside the scrambler. “I have one more thing for you to do. I think it might require calling in most of the favours owed me in order to accomplish it.”

Tina laughed. “You’re owed a lot of favours, boss. I doubt it will take half, let alone all, to get whatever you need done.”

Jeremy raised one eyebrow. “I need a second Quantum computer.”

Tina looked down at her notepad and jotted the task down. “We can do that. Prices might have even come down since we picked up the first one.”

“It will have to be stored in a new location,” Jeremy continued.

“No worries.”

“A piece of land purchased by one of our dummy businesses. And it needs to be underground.”

“How far under?”

“Three levels should do.”

“Okay.”

“Shielded.”

“Standard shielding…” she wrote.

“Triple-layered.”

She looked up and frowned. “Concrete, lead, and foil?”

“That’s right.”

“Hardwire connection to the net, then?”

“No. Tesla connect.”

“Um…”

Jeremy laughed. “Like I said. This will call in some big favours.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but.” She winced and looked back at her notepad. “What kind of time frame for getting this all set up?”

“Two weeks.”

Tina laughed and shook her head but wrote the instruction down without looking up. “And whose computer network are we hacking and copying onto this new quantum drive?”

Jeremy raised one eyebrow. “Isaac Chase’s system.”

“You mean Sebastian’s.” Tina frowned and met her boss’s eyes. “You want their entire network? ’Cause I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“No, just one.” He stood. “I want the Blades VR system uploaded to our own drive.”

Chapter 4

“Grab him!”

Sebastian heard the cry and froze. The angry buzz of a crowd became louder as bodies began to push and jostle against his back.

“Filthy Traveller! Don’t let him get away.”

He pivoted on his heel, expecting to see an angry mob reaching for him.

But there wasn’t.

The angry mob was there, but they were gathering in front of a stall to his right. Men and women pressed forward, eyes filled with anger and hate, hands clawing at a man who was now pinned against the wooden counter of the stall.

“Damn.” Shale’s voice sounded from beside Sebastian. He jumped and realized that he’d been holding his breath. “Doesn’t look good for that dude,” she said.

The man was hoisted into the air, arms and legs writhing as his head whipped from right to left, searching for help. Help that would not come.

“Let’s go.” Sebastian turned and made his way to the closest gate. They passed through it and moved briskly, Shale close on Sebastian’s heels as he navigated through the growing crowd.

Ten minutes later, they entered a tavern called The Brave Waif and moved to a table in the far corner. They sat on the same side of the table so they were both facing the front door. Shale’s gaze remained focused on it while Sebastian motioned to the server.

The woman saw his signal and approached. “What’ll it be?”

“Dark ale for me,” Sebastian said.

Shale did not look away from the door. “Cider.”

The server’s eyes squinted. “Expecting a fight?”

Shale’s brows furrowed and her eyes flicked to the waitress. “No, why do you ask?”

“You’re an archer, right?”

Shale nodded.

“I get nervous when archers come in here and don’t order alcohol.”

Shale laughed, but the woman shook her head. “My cousin was an archer. Only time he said no to liquor or ale was if he was gonna need to shoot.”

“Really?” Shale’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a pretty good tip.” She winked at the server. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to decide which target was the real one when I was drunk.”

The server laughed. “You’re funny, for an elf.”

Shale frowned. “Thank you? I think.”

The pair said nothing else until they had received their drinks and were left alone.

“I don’t think we were followed.” Shale stopped staring at the door and reached for her mug. She took a sip and set it back on the table. “For a minute, though, I thought I was a goner back there.”

“Same here.” Sebastian raised the mug to his lips. “I was so close to the poor guy. Then I heard the crowd start to shout…” He took a drink and shook his head. “There’s nothing I could have done if they’d been coming for me.”

“Same here.”

“You have weapons and skills. You could have at least tried to fight them.”

She shivered. “Skills wouldn’t have helped. Nor magic. Once the mob buries you,” she shook her head. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“In the game?” Sebastian asked.

“What?” She frowned. “No, of course I still want to be inside the game. I’d just prefer to be on the road, somewhere away from the insane crowds.”

“I agree.” Sebastian stroked his beard. The tavern door opened and Ezref entered. He saw them and nodded. Then he walked to the bar, paid for a drink, and carried it to their table.

“Apparently there was an incident in the market.” He sat and took a drink.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “We were there.”

The young crafter’s eyes widened. “You were?”

“Thought they were after us,” Shale whispered.

“Hush,” Ezref hissed. He glanced over both shoulders and then back at them. “Don’t say things like that.”

“We’re safe here.”

“Until we aren’t.” Ezref ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “All it takes is a word, a feeling.” He shook his head. “This is becoming worse than I thought it would.”

“Join the crowd,” Sebastian said.

“I’m serious.” Ezref’s face was pale. “The man who was taken in the market—I knew him.”

“Really?” Shale asked.

“Yes, and there’s no way he was a new Traveller.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Sebastian said. “It’s possible that he changed since you saw him last. That he was visited by a new Traveller and is now one of them.”

Ezref shook his head. “I was speaking with him just the other day, when we arrived. I knew him well enough to know that there was nothing different about him.”

“Maybe he was hiding it very well.”

“Not well enough,” Shale offered.

Ezref scowled. “There’s no doubt in my mind that he was the same person I’ve always known.”

“Were you close?” Sebastian asked.

“No.”

“There you are, then.”

“Please don’t doubt me on this.”

“If what you’re saying is true,” Shale said, “and people are accusing others of being what they are not…”

“Then no one is safe,” Ezref said.

“It’s becoming a good old-fashioned witch hunt.” Sebastian shook his head.

“What do you mean by that?”

“He means people are accusing individuals without cause,” Shale said.

“And others believe the charges, fake or not.” The older man leaned close and whispered. “Something similar to this happened in our land a couple of centuries ago. Innocent people were accused of being witches—”he saw the look of confusion on Ezref’s face. “Evil crafters.”

“Ahh.”

“At first it was only a few. But after a bit of time had passed, the masses became bloodthirsty and started accusing innocent people at random.”

“Why would they do such a thing?” Ezref asked.

“Because the crowds enjoyed the spectacle.”

“Like when chickens will peck one of their own to death for no reason sometimes?” the apprentice asked.

Sebastian nodded. “That’s right. For no good reason, seemingly calm and peaceful people are possessed by a mob aggression.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I say we get out of town and avoid them from now on.” Shale sipped her cider.

“We must try and find as many players as we can,” Sebastian said. “Gather them together.”

“Why?”

Sebastian considered the question and shrugged. “It seems like the best course of action.”

“To provide protection for them?” Ezref asked.

Sebastian nodded agreement, but the thought flashed through his mind: Not protection for them. For me.

Chapter 5

Xander opened his eyes and sat up.

He stood and turned to survey the room. Obsidian stone blocks formed the floor, walls, and ceiling. There was no discernible light source, but it was not dark. More like early morning before the light shines over the horizon.

“Welcome back.” A small, raspy voice spoke from Xander’s left. He turned and saw the shard imp hovering in the air at eye level, its glossy black wings flapping lazily.

“Heya. It’s good to see you again.”

The shard imp raised one tiny eyebrow and chuckled. “Such politeness. Your sarcasm is so subtle that I can’t even detect it. You must be a master at the skill.”

Xander shrugged.

He stared at Xander for a long moment. “Still don’t remember me?”

“Of course I do. From our last meeting.”

“No.” He scowled. “I mean from our long string of interactions together.”

“Oh. Then no. I don’t remember any of those.”

“Well, that’s a shame. We were such chums.”

“Your name is Xylacotyl, right?”

“No.”

“Close?”

“Xy-clo-tl.”

“Of course. Xyclotl. I was close, though.”

The shard imp snorted and crossed his arms. “As close as comparing you to a tavern wench.” The creature grinned. “Or maybe that is too similar?”

Xander laughed and shook his head. Xyclotl flew toward him and came to rest on his right shoulder. The young Death Stryker was prepared this time when he felt the sharp sting of claws digging through the cloth of his tunic.

“I can’t believe we’re going to meet the Dark Lady again.” Xyclotl clapped his hands together. “The others were jealous to hear about my first meeting; they will go insane with envy to discover that I’ve looked upon her again so soon after the first time.”

“The others?”

“My brothers and sisters,” Xyclotl said. “What? You think I disappear and wait in some sort of empty purgatory between my visits with you?”

“I never gave it any thought.”

“Well, you should have. To answer your question, we do get time off. And no creature drinks like a shard imp, so we tend to hang out often.”

“You like to drink?”

“Don’t you?”

“Sure.”

“Sure? That don’t sound convincing. Oh, gods. You’re a prude, aren’t you?”

Xander laughed. “I’m not.”

“Tell me about the last time you drank.”

“Okay.” Xander’s eyebrows furrowed. “It was after we finished the Dryad’s Heart campaign. I started with ale and then had a couple whiskeys to chase it down. Then Shale asked if they had Sambuca and the bartender had no clue what she was ask—”

“Hold on, hold on.” Xyclotl waved his hands in the air. “Wait just a minute.”

“What?”

“You actually remember your last drinking session?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that what you wanted to hear about?”

“You were supposed to tell me you couldn’t remember.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you drank so much, partied so hard, that you blacked out and the whole night was a blur!”

Xander laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever drunk that much.”

The shard imp groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s as I feared. You’re a prude.”

“I’m not—”

“Hey.” Xyclotl bent down and patted the Death Stryker’s shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. I haven’t heard anything so bad that it can’t be fixed.”

“I don’t think there—”

“Uh-uh.” Xyclotl shook his head and raised one hand in front of him. “Don’t say anything else.”

“But—”

“Let me tackle one problem at a time, okay pal?”

Xander laughed. “Okay.”

“Atta boy.” Xyclotl nodded. Then he frowned and looked down at the ground. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s my point. Get walking. We could have had this entire conversation while moving closer to our destination.”

“Which is?”

“The Dark Lady’s throne room.”

“I have no clue where that is.”

Xyclotl sighed. “Follow the directions I gave you.”

“You…didn’t give me any.”

“Course I did.” Xyclotl held one hand in front of his face and raised an index finger. “Great. Now we’ve got three things to work on. First, there’s the drinking.”

“I don’t need any help with drinking.”

“Second. Following directions.”

“Which you never gave me.”

“And third. Your memory seems to be totally shot. If you can’t remember simple instructions five minutes after I give ’em, you’re gonna have some tough times ahead.” The shard imp clapped his hands. “This is the big leagues, brother. Let’s get serious now.”

“You. Never. Gave me. Directions.”

Xyclotl stared up at him, lips pursed, then held up a fourth finger. “Argumentative. Fantastic. Keep adding stuff to the pile, why don’t ya.”

Chapter 6

Aleron raised the cup of tea to his lips and took a drink.

The young crafter across from him was grinning. “Two levels.”

“That’s right,” Aleron smiled. “Are you surprised by that?”

“Absolutely. I thought that maybe I’d squeaked out one. I never imagined there were two levels waiting for me from this Scout visit.”

Aleron rotated his neck, rolling his head from side to side, feeling tightness ease in his neck muscles as he did so. “Bugbears yield more experience than most expect.”

“I guess so.” The crafter stood and adjusted his robes. “Are there any other monsters out there which give better-than-average experience?”

Aleron winked. “I’m certain that there are.”

“But you’re not going to tell me about them?”

“The world is filled with many creatures. It would take too long to cover them all, even the surprising ones.”

“Can’t blame me for asking, right?”

“Of course not.” Aleron moved to the door, opened it, and gestured outside with a hand. “And you did it in a clever way, much as one would expect from a crafter.”

The young magic user stopped at the door and turned, bowing at the waist. “I thank you for your service, Scout.”

Aleron returned the gesture. “And we honour you for yours. Go forth and be well.”

The young Scout closed the door, returned to his chair, and refilled his teacup. Kieran appeared from the other room and sat in the chair across from him.

“Tea?” Aleron asked.

“Please.”

Aleron poured a second cup and handed it to Kieran. The master Scout nodded.

“How did I do?”

“Not perfectly.”

“Of course not.” Aleron laughed. “Perfect is impossible.”

“It is with that attitude.” Kieran took a sip of tea and then laughed. “You’re right, of course. Perfection is something that, by its very definition, can never be achieved.”

“Then how about giving me some feedback that I can use to learn and improve?”

“A fair request.” Kieran leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “You did as well as any Scout would during a normal session.”

“That’s not so bad. Do you think that I’m ready to be given a village or town assignment, then?”

“You’re ready.”

Aleron frowned. “Something in your tone tells me I’m not getting one, anyway.”

Kieran shrugged.

“You are still uncertain of my loyalty?”

“I think it’s good sense for me to be this way, still.”

“Have I given you cause to doubt me in any way?”

“No.”

“Then come on. I’m starting to go stir-crazy, cooped up in this place.”

Kieran chuckled. “You haven’t been here that long.”

“There’s a whole amazing world out there to explore.”

“You’ve experienced some of it.”

“Barely.”

“Enough to get killed.”

“I was unprepared, then.” Aleron set his cup on the table. “With the skills that you’ve taught me, there isn’t much that could threaten me now.”

“You may have abilities to help you survive, but the wildlife—and the native races—are clever and fast. They could take you as you sleep along the road one night, before you even know they are close.”

“I’ll set the wards you’ve taught me.”

“Some beings are immune to wards.”

“Are they undetectable from guard spells?”

Kieran laughed. “The unseen servant will warn you of a fire dart, but flame pixies cast them so quickly that, by the time any alarm was sounded, it would be too late.”

Aleron sighed.

“Look. You have the skills, but your reflexes need more time to develop. And intuition can only be acquired by time and repetition. I can’t begin to count how often intuition saved my ass. And the times it didn’t. Preu Treya is an incredible place, but it’s extremely dangerous. Random encounter rolls happen way more than once or twice a night. And that’s on a boring, regular evening.”

“Random encounter rolls?” Aleron frowned. “You sound as if you’ve played the role-playing game before.”

Kieran smiled. “Of course I have.”

“Really?”

“When our team was assembled, only the geekiest were allowed to join the leader ranks.”

“Huh. How many qualified for that rank?”

Kieran opened his mouth to say more, then laughed and shook his head. “You’re good.”

“What do you mean?”

The Scout master laughed again. “I can’t tell whether you’re just curious to learn more for yourself, or if you are trying to gather more intel for when you rejoin your friends.”

“They aren’t my friends. Okay, Shale is, but the rest are other players, and that’s it. I was right. You still doubt my loyalty to you. To the Scouts.”

Kieran stood, set his cup down, and walked to the door. He reached for the doorknob and looked at Aleron over his shoulder. “Gaining our trust is going to take a bit more time, Aleron. Hang in there, though. You’re doing fine.”

Chapter 7

Fen looked up from his drink as the tavern door opened and a bard entered. There were shouts of welcome from assorted patrons, and the bard raised one hand in acknowledgement, smiling and flipping one part of his cloak over his shoulder to reveal a lute.

The bartender made his way to the end of the bar closest to the door, leaning on the smooth wooden bar top. He smiled and called out to the bard, engaging him in conversation.

The travelling entertainer nodded and smiled, then looked around the tavern. His eyes met Fen’s, and the warrior raised a hand in greeting. The minstrel accepted a mug of ale from the barkeep with a nod and waded through the crowd until he was standing in front of Fen.

“Hello, friend,” the bard said. “I couldn’t help but notice the arc of your shield. Are you up for some company?”

Fen frowned and shook his head. “‘Arc of my shield’? I don’t even have a shield. And don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“With that tone. You make the phrase sound creepy.”

The bard raised one eyebrow and grinned.

Fen sighed. “What’s your name, friend?”

The bard laughed and sat. “Isaac be the name.”

“Oh god.” Fen shook his head and motioned to the empty chair. “And stop trying to role-play. You sound like a gangbanger attempting to read Shakespeare.”

Isaac grinned over the lip of his mug before taking a long drink. Then he sighed and set it on the table. “Wow. This stuff tastes amazing.”

“Shh.” Fen’s eyes shifted to the nearby tables. “Don’t be talking like that where people can hear. You’ll tip the NPCs off that you don’t belong here.”

“Sorry, you’re right.” Isaac untied his cloak and draped it over the chair beside him. “I’ve seen three episodes where they nabbed Travellers.” He shivered. “The mob ripped one to shreds, left the second to die slowly, and the third—” Isaac’s face paled. “They definitely have a hate on for us.”

“Yeah, it’s insane. I’m also pretty sure they are killing regular citizens. There’s no way there are so many actual players that are easy to spot.”

“I agree. Seems as if ‘the madness of crowds’ applies here, too.”

Fen raised one eyebrow. “You’ve read that book?”

“By Mackay? Of course. It’s required reading if you aim to create something for the masses, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

“Still,” Isaac raised his mug, “I didn’t expect natives from here to behave the same way as normal crowds back home.”

“Any chance Sebastian set them up this way?”

“Program them to evolve and act like humans?” Isaac shook his head. “To a degree, but we still wanted them controllable. Coding NPCs with a blueprint that caused them to become irrational and ignorant of societal rules when assembled in larger groups would have been the worst way to keep them in check.”

“This development is bad luck, then.”

“I think so. Whatever it is, they are dangerous.”

“Don’t worry. It’s safe to talk here at the moment.”

“Good.”

“What do you think of your little creation so far?”

Isaac smiled. “It’s incredible. It feels… more than real, if such a thing is possible.” He tapped the table and then ran one finger along the rim of his mug. “Everything is so crisp and clear. It’s as if my senses back home were dull and muted. Things appear sharper. Food and drink tastes clean and distinct.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if that makes sense. It’s hard to describe in words.”

“Makes total sense, and it’s a much better description than I managed to come up with, which is embarrassing since I write for a living.”

“Perhaps it’s the poet in me at the moment.”

“Bard is an interesting choice. I was expecting—” Fen paused. “actually, I guess I wasn’t sure what to expect from you.”

“Bard was always my class.” Isaac winked. “When we were kids playing the RPG, the bard bonuses for communication appealed to me.”

“Makes sense, although the class isn’t much of a departure from your true character.”

“I’ve always gotten a kick out of that. People play games in order to assume a different role from real life, and yet they end up selecting a race and class that matches their actual personality and preferences.”

“It must be hard-wired into our psyche.”

“I guess. When the PC game came out I thought the bard class wouldn’t be for me, but the abilities were so cool.” He shrugged. “Guess I’m a bard to my core.”

“It didn’t take you long to escape from your trainers.”

Isaac laughed. “They taught us the speed song and let us practice in an open field. I’d already stored supplies in the woods a day earlier.” He shrugged. “I started running and kept going.”

Fen laughed. “No one chased you?”

“Oh yeah, but I gave them the slip. Must not have been too hard for you, either, since you got here before me.”

“Only by a few hours, but yeah, I saw an opportunity to get away pretty quickly. I already knew the training process from last time, though. You were coming in cold.”

Isaac took a drink before speaking. “Not really. I watched a few bard players during their training.”

“You watched?”

Isaac nodded. “We’ve developed a way to tag players and watch them in real time.”

“Then why not—ah, I bet you tried, but Sebastian is cloaked somehow.”

“Yeah, he’s a clever fella.”

“You sure you need the old guy? If you were able to add new programming since he disappeared—”

“Add-ons are simple, but only Sebastian can access the core matrix and subroutines.”

“That’s bad business, buddy.”

“A hard lesson learned.” Isaac scowled. “Let’s eat lunch and head out. He’s close, still?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can meet up with Sebastian later today. Tomorrow at the latest.”

Chapter 8

“Rest, Lady.”

Air from the whisper lightly tickled the skin of her neck as it passed over and into her ear. Mercy felt her lip twitch but she did not reply, did not look away from Xander’s sleeping face. Her fingers tightened around the cold leather hilt of the dagger that lay on the mattress beside her charge, the fingers of her other hand lightly touching Xander’s ribs to help her monitor his breathing for signs of distress.

“Discard this one.” The voice was louder this time, tempting her to turn toward the source.

She smiled, knowing there was no one to be seen. The Dark Lady tested the sponsor as well as the initiate during this ceremony. If Mercy turned away—took her eyes from her charge—both of them would fail.

Which would mean death for Xander, and disgrace for Mercy.

She wanted to tell the voice to shut up and be gone. The temptation was great, but the rules forbade her speaking as much as they did her turning away. Soft fingers stroked the nape of her neck, sending a thrill of icy pleasure into her brain. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from gasping.

“He is already mine. Release him. No one will care. There are many who would thank you. Do this for me now, and when it is time for you to join me in death, there will be extra rewards waiting for you as thanks.”

Mercy knew the words were false. A Death Stryker of her calibre faced terrible punishment in the afterlife for failures such as this.

She forced herself to raise the dagger, her hand struggling as if a strong hand opposed her movements. The tip of the mirrored ebony blade touched Xander’s chest. A tiny drop of bright red blood appeared as the tip bit into his skin.

The resistance pulling against her hand disappeared so quickly that Mercy almost plunged the blade in. If not for her well-honed reflexes, she would have thrust the dagger into Xander’s heart. She gasped and prepared for another bout of trickery from the forces testing her.

“Very well,” the voice chuckled. “Keep him grounded to your world. I can wait. Both of you will join me eventually.”

Mercy felt wet lips press against her cheek. She closed her eyes until the pressure faded. Then she removed the blade and returned it to the mattress. Her other hand reached up to touch the moist spot on her cheek. She pulled it away, holding her fingertips in front of her eyes, rubbing them together as ice crystals evaporated with a faint hiss.

***

Xander knelt before the tall dais. The urge to look up threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought it.

“Welcome back,” the Dark Lady purred.

Xander shivered.

“On your feet, sweet one.”

Xander stood and raised his head. The Dark Lady stood in front of him at the bottom of the stairs to her throne. Her long black hair shone, eyes glinting like liquid midnight. Xander licked his lips as his gaze turned to focus on hers; they were perfectly shaped and garnet red, begging to be kissed.

The Dark Lady’s mouth twitched and formed a seductive grin. “I forgot how in love with me you are.” She waved a hand, and Xander felt his desire lessen. “I barely turn it on, yet still it overwhelms you.”

“Because,” he gasped, “I am yours, Lady.”

“There’s more to it than that. Perhaps it is your foreign mind.” The Dark Lady smiled and reached out to stroke his face. “I’m not pleased by your choice of sponsor, by the way.”

“Mercy?”

“Indeed.”

“She’s an amazing teacher.”

“That’s the problem.”

Xander shook his head, and the Dark Lady laughed. “A weaker sponsor would have failed you by now. Your avatar would be dead and your spirit would reside with me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I doubt that. Some part of you must sense what will happen when you do arrive to spend eternity in my realm.”

Something about the Dark Lady’s expression made him shiver involuntarily. “Don’t fret, pretty one.” Her cruel smile brightened. “After the obligatory period of torture and suffering all must endure, I feel as if I might keep you with me instead of discarding your soul to the depths for eternal torment.” A hand touched his arm and stroked downwards. “I am eager to experience the limits of your endurance, first-hand.”

Xander pursed his lips and remained silent.

The Dark Lady took a step backwards and rubbed a forefinger over her lips. Then she smiled and raised her hand in front of her. “You’re so distracting. Look at me, spending time considering how to torture and study you, when that right does not yet fully belong to me.” She turned and stepped onto the stairs. “Follow me to the throne.”

Xander felt a sudden swell of desire wash over him. He followed close on her heels as the goddess ascended the steps to her throne. When they reached the top, she turned and sat, gathering her obsidian dress around her. “Kneel.”

Xander dropped to his knees on the top step and lowered his eyes to the dais.

“Look at me.”

He did as commanded.

“This is your final chance to escape my grasp, Xander.” The tone of her voice was playful. “If you agree to be mine, there is no turning back. When you wake up, everything that you now are and will ever become belongs to me. You must now surrender your soul completely to me.”

He frowned.

“In return, I shall grant you gifts. The longer you walk the realm of the living, the stronger and more plentiful my favour will bless you. Live long enough and your power will grow more than you could ever imagine.”

Xander considered her words carefully before he responded. “I understand.”

“No. You don’t.” The Dark Lady smiled. Xander thought he detected a sadness in the expression. “No one ever understands, yet they always take the deal. The truth is that it would be better to deny me. Say no and be destroyed, consigned to the empty abyss right now.”

Xander cocked his head to one side as he considered her advice.

“I’m serious. Please. Enter oblivion now. Be consumed and quickly forgotten instead of taking the slim chance to gain power for the price of eternal suffering in the not-so-distant future.”

Xander thought long and hard. “I cannot give up. I must try.” He bowed his head. “I accept your offer, my Lady. My soul is yours in exchange for the favours you promise.”

The goddess smiled as she extended her hand toward him. “I accept your soul. Kiss my hand to complete the pact.”

Xander’s lips touched her skin and began to tingle with an icy shiver.

Her smile widened. “Rise, my Death Stryker.”

Xander stood and then suddenly tipped backwards. He flailed his arms and then…

***

Xander found himself looking into Mercy’s face above him.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Thanks.”

The woman stepped away from the bed and sheathed her dagger. Then she sat on the floor, pulled her knees toward her chest, and rested her head against them.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Which means I succeeded in my vigil over you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Give me a couple minutes. I’ve been standing silently over you for a long time to make sure you survived.”

“How long?”

“Three days.”

“Without sleep?”

“That’s right.”

“Damn.” Xander turned onto his side and waited silently for Mercy to look up.

After a few minutes, he could tell from her breathing that she was asleep.

He stood and draped a blanket over her shoulders. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, prepared to watch over her for as long as she slept.

Chapter 9

Kieran opened the door. “After you.”

Aleron stepped into the next room. A large, rectangular table was positioned so that one of the long sides was against the wooden wall. Six chairs were tucked under one side and a single chair was placed at each end. The room was devoid of windows; the only other piece of furniture was a rectangular, wood-framed mirror about two feet high by four feet wide. It was mounted to the centre of the same wall the table was pushed up against.

A woman appearing to be in her mid-thirties, with shoulder-length red hair, stood behind the chairs. She watched the young Scout with a pleasant yet neutral expression on her face.

Kieran entered the room behind him and closed the door. “Aleron, this is Vicrunia. She commands another Scout outpost.”

“Aleron.” Vicrunia nodded. “It is good to meet you.”

“You as well,” Aleron said.

“Shall we sit, gentlemen?” She gestured towards the lone seat at the far end of the table. “Aleron, please sit over there.”

The young Scout did as instructed, pulling his chair in and placing both hands on the table as the two Scouts sat in the middle chairs. Kieran’s posture mimicked Aleron’s as the Scout leader met his eyes. “You’ve been asking to be included more. Looks like now’s the time.”

Aleron smiled.

“Our intel from a few weeks ago indicated that Sebastian had created a sanctuary for New Travellers to gather, where they could be safe from persecution by NPCs.” Aleron opened his mouth, but Kieran shook his head and continued speaking. “We began looking for this safe hold but had no success in locating it. Since then, Vicrunia’s people spotted Sebastian and his friends in the village of Jancor.” He spread his hands. “We followed them, but they did not appear to be going anywhere specific.”

Kieran leaned back and crossed his arms.

“This new information can be interpreted in two ways,” Vicrunia said. “Either they are going from one populated area to the next, looking for survivors to save and send on to a hidden base—”

“Or your intel was wrong and they have no base at all,” Aleron said.

The female Scout nodded. “That’s the option we believe to be true.”

No one spoke.

After a long pause, Aleron cleared his throat. “What do you want from me?”

Kieran looked at Vicrunia, and she nodded. “We need you to go out and learn for us what Sebastian is actually up to. They will take you back into their group, which will allow us to uncover his strategy in the quickest amount of time.”

“I’m not so sure that they will allow me to come back. I chose to come with you. To leave them.”

“In order to save your life,” Kieran said. “I’m sure they will understand. Tell them that you went to work as a Scout in some village and escaped to get back with them as soon as you could. They will buy that.”

Aleron frowned.

“Your mission is to rejoin them and ascertain their plans. Once you know what they are up to, you will return to us.”

“I’m confused,” Aleron said. “You’ve been telling me that you don’t trust me enough to venture out on my own. Now you order me to not only go out, but to join the very people that make you not trust me in the first place?”

“I trust you now.”

“Why?” Aleron shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve managed to prove my loyalty. I mean, besides saying the words, which seem to float right past your ears. I don’t get it.”

Kieran closed his eyes. “You’re refusing the mission.”

“No. That’s not—” Aleron frowned. “I’d like to know why, is all.”

Kieran laughed and Vicrunia smirked.

“What’s so funny?” Aleron asked.

Kieran considered Aleron with a smirk on his face, too. “This ain’t your game, kid. I don’t have to give you any answers, no matter how often you ask.” He spread his hands. “You’re not in charge. There is zero reason for me to share anything with you, and that’s regardless of whether or not I trust you. You’re at the bottom of the food chain. If you want to be a Scout—if you want to help us—then you need to take the jobs that are offered and do your best with each of them. Time will pass and, if you do well, you’ll work your way up the ranks.”

“Just like real life,” Aleron said.

“This is real life. At least as far as any of us are concerned.”

“Not me. When I die I’ll return to the real world.”

Kieran sighed. “Guess this news is overdue, pal.”

Aleron’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sure how it happened or why, but somehow your real body is dead.”

There was a long pause.

“You’re lying,” Aleron whispered.

“Think back to your time here. Ever have a strange episode where you felt extremely…off? Maybe you lost consciousness, or at the very least had a weak spell that dropped you to the ground?”

Aleron nodded.

Kieran pursed his lips together and shook his head. “That was your body dying back home.”

“No.”

“It was.” Kieran paused for a moment to let the information sink in. “You have no other place to live, kid. This is your home reality now. Help us out and we’ll make sure you have a good life here.”

Aleron frowned. Then he took a deep breath and nodded.

Chapter 10

Isaac ran toward the orc, sword drawn and pulled back to strike as he screamed loudly. He felt light-headed and strong at the same time, as adrenaline coursed through his body. Then he swung downwards, his arm vibrating through the handle of his blade as it connected with the man-sized creature’s shield. Suddenly he felt his left foot slip on the grass. His balance shifted and he began to fall backward. His eyes widened and his breath was stolen from his lungs as he hit the ground with a hard thud. A second later, the heavy body of the orc crushed into him as it pressed the attack.

Panic gripped him as he tried to make his lungs work but couldn’t. The orc’s face loomed close, jaws snapping as the ugly beast pinned Isaac to the ground with its weight. Everything began to move in slow motion as he saw the creature raise a wicked studded mace, preparing to strike.

Time moved normally again as a sword blade flashed into view and sliced the top of the orc’s head away. Reddish-pink gore spattered, and the orc toppled to the ground. Isaac blinked as hot blood splattered onto his face, some getting into his eyes. His breath returned and he raised one arm to wipe the blood away, squinting as Fen’s smiling face appeared over him. The warrior reached down, and Isaac gripped the offered hand as he was hauled to his feet.

Fen clapped him on the back. “Tiring the mobs out by letting them beat the hell out of you isn’t really the best strategy to survive, mate.”

Isaac laughed and turned to examine the scene. Three orcs lay on the ground, all dead, thanks to Fen. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I was useless.”

“What are you talking about?” Fen laughed. “You were a huge help.”

“The kills are all yours. I didn’t even put a cut on them.”

“Maybe not, but you kept two of ’em busy while I took care of the other.” He winked. “They must have thought you were the most dangerous, sending two at you instead of me. I think that saved us. If two had rushed me first, I don’t think I would have been able to put them down fast enough to peel the third off of you.”

“Being a target to beat on was not the kind of role I wanted to fill in a fight.”

Fen laughed again. “You’ve got no training, and your class isn’t meant for close fighting. We’re alive, the mobs are dead. That’s all that counts as far as I’m concerned.” He nudged Isaac in the ribs. “Don’t worry, you did your part as far as any party member would be concerned.”

Isaac grimaced and clutched at the spot where Fen had poked him.

“How bad does it hurt?”

“More than it should. I seriously can’t get over how real this place is.”

“Like I keep telling you,” Fen nodded. “The two of you hit a home run when you made this reality. Every single sense has been integrated into the experience. This world is as real as the one back home. Maybe even more real, thanks to the clarity of connection and digital interfacing with the sensory inputs that each player gets.”

Isaac pushed gingerly against his ribs. “Right now I’d be a bit happier for a bit less realism. My ribs are on fire.”

“Likely broken, bruised at the very least.”

“Wish I was higher level.” Isaac shook his head. “A bard’s healing song would be helpful right now.” Fen’s eyebrows rose, and the bard shook his head. “I know, we aren’t here to adventure.”

“Hey, if you want to change plans and level up a bit, I’m totally game.”

“No. We keep looking for Sebastian. How close are we?”

“Hard to say, but we are in the neighbourhood of where I knew him to be. We should find him soon.”

Isaac moved to where they had dropped their supplies and reached down to pick up his pack. A stab of pain forced him to stop and then move slower, but he managed to lift the pack and sling it over his shoulder without crying out. “Let’s find the old bugger, deal with him, and then adventure for a bit after that.”

“Sounds good to me.” Fen moved to the nearest orc and knelt beside it.

“What are you doing?”

“Looting.”

Isaac sighed.

“The treasure system of this game runs on random world drops, right?” Fen began to rifle through the creature’s ragged clothing.

“That’s right.”

“Just our luck one of these pieces of trash has a super-powerful item on them and we miss out ’cause we don’t take the time to check. How terrible would that be?”

“We wouldn’t know, since we’d not have checked.”

“You might be willing to take that chance, but I’m not.” Fen chuckled. “Couple extra minutes, then we’re on our way.”

Chapter 11

Sebastian stopped at a pottery booth and picked up a small vase. He raised it to eye level and turned it slowly, stealing a quick glance to his right.

The warrior and bard were still following him.

He returned the vase and began winding his way through the crowd once more. He quickened his pace and ducked into a side alley. Ten steps in, he turned and stopped.

The men had just entered the alley. They saw him waiting and came to a halt a few feet away.

Sebastian reached into a pouch and withdrew a handful of fine white sand. He let a bit trickle between his fingers. “Keep those hands where I can see ’em, boys.”

Both raised their hands. The warrior smiled. “Did your skills finally come back, Seb, or are you bluffing?”

Sebastian frowned. “Do we know each other?”

“From another life.” The warrior winked. “Are you still wearing my necklace?”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Fen?”

“In the flesh. A new suit, but it’s me inside.”

Sebastian dropped the remaining sand and strode forward. The two men embraced, both laughing as they did so.

“By the gods, it’s good to see you again.” Sebastian held his friend at arm’s length, his gaze taking the man’s new avatar in. “When did you get back?”

“Only a few days ago.”

“Word was that they’d stopped allowing players to log in.”

“You know me, Seb. I always manage to get special attention.”

Sebastian laughed and looked at the bard. “Who’s your friend, and why’s he looking at me with a strange expression?”

“Seb.” Fen’s tone became more sombre. “I want you to stay calm.”

“Calm?” The older man frowned.

“You might not be happy when you learn who this guy with me is.”

Sebastian laughed. “What do I care? Any friend of yours has to be fine, right?”

“Hello, Sebby.”

Sebastian’s smile melted.

“Things are not so good out there, Seb,” Fen continued. “There are problems with the sys—”

“Shut your mouth, Fen.” Sebastian glared at the bard.

“Come on man, you should listen to what he has to—”

“I said be quiet.” Sebastian’s eyes remained locked on the man.

The three stood without speaking for a long moment.

Finally, Sebastian’s laughter broke the silence. He closed his eyes and shook his head, laughing until he was almost out of breath. Then he opened his eyes. “Thought you were too valuable to risk entering this place, Isaac.”

“You left me no choice, Seb.”

“Sure I did.”

“The entire computer system is having issues.”

“Computer systems always have issues.”

“It’s serious.”

Sebastian stroked his beard. “I told you there would be growing pains as things progressed.”

“It’s more than that.”

Sebastian snorted and glanced sideways at Fen. “I’m not happy about this.”

“Why?” Fen asked.

Sebastian walked toward Isaac and stopped close to the other man. His hand grasped the hilt of the dagger at his belt. “You don’t belong here, Isaac.”

“I need your help.”

“Too late for that.”

Isaac’s eyes widened as Sebastian drew his dagger and buried it in the side of his business partner’s neck.

“Sebastian!” Fen shouted.

Sebastian let go of his dagger, leaving it buried in Isaac as he took a step back.

Isaac slowly sank to his knees, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound while blood gushed from the wound. Isaac grabbed weakly for the hilt but was unable to grasp it as he sank to his knees and then flopped forward, face-first, to the ground.

Sebastian stared at the man until he took his last breath and stopped moving. Then he looked up at Fen.

“Seb, what the hell did you just do?”

“Why would you bring him to me?”

Fen sighed. “It was the only way he would allow me to return. Like you said, they’re no longer allowing players to come back in.”

Sebastian bent over Isaac’s corpse, tugged the dagger free, and wiped it on the dead body’s cloak before returning it to his sheath. “Because of the NPC violence toward players?”

Fen shook his head.

“What, then?”

“I can’t explain it!” Fen threw his arms into the air. “Maybe you should have let him live a few seconds to give you the full lowdown.”

Sebastian grinned. “I have no regrets.”

“He’s gonna come back.”

“Good.”

“I don’t like that smile. You’ll kill him again, won’t you?”

The older man nodded. “Every time I see him.”

Fen undid his sword belt and set it on the ground. Then he removed his breast and shoulder plates, and gently set them beside the sword.

“What are you doing?”

“Take these with you. They’re good quality, and I’ll want them back.” Fen stood and drew his dagger. “Next time, do me a favour?”

“Next time?”

Fen placed the edge of the dagger against his neck. “At least listen to what he has to say before you kill him.”

“What are you doing?”

“I think this entire game is in danger of a fatal crash, Seb.” He drew the blade across his throat and dropped to the ground.

Sebastian rushed forward to try to help, but the cut was too deep to staunch. Fen bled out in seconds.

Chapter 12

Xander followed Mercy, his gaze downcast and watching her boots so that he could match her pace, staying two steps behind and in formation with her in order to impress those watching. Still, he couldn’t help but take a quick peek up when they entered the great hall for their audience with the Shard.

Xander tried to calm his mind and banish the twinge in his gut that being in the Death Stryker leader’s presence seemed to evoke. He focused on taking measured breaths, his eyes once again locked on the heels of Mercy’s boots.

In his peripheral vision, he saw her fingertips wiggle their predetermined signal. After two more steps he stopped walking, exactly at the same moment she did. He knelt, touching one knee against the ground, head bowed. Xander detected an amused tone in the leader’s voice as he addressed them.

“And so they return.”

“Bathed in darkness,” Mercy said.

“All thanks to our Lady,” the Shard completed the ritual greeting. “Rise, sister and brother. Let me take a look at the both of you.”

Xander stood and looked up, his eyes meeting the Shard’s. Xander couldn’t tell whether the look coming from the leader of the chapter house was mocking, encouraging, or something else. He stood at attention and the Shard walked slowly around them, hands behind his back.

“Your adventures brought honour to the Dark Lady,” the Shard said.

“So it would seem,” Mercy replied.

“You bring us continued prosperity by way of your tithe, that much is certain.”

Xander pursed his lips tight to avoid smiling. Thirty percent of all treasure and loot acquired while abroad was given to the chapter house. For every adventurer who went out, dozens of order members stayed behind to ensure the settlements were protected, fed, and well kept. The tithe ensured that all tied to the order were cared for. With the amount of treasure that Xander and Mercy had brought back from their adventure, no one would go without for some time.

“His skills are progressing?” the Shard asked.

Mercy nodded. “At a fair pace.”

“Are you downplaying his prowess, sister?” The Shard finished his circuit and stood in front of them. “Or trying to hide the fact that he is weaker than he should be at this point?”

“I would match him against any who are a year his senior.”

“Well, then.” The leader considered Xander with a smirk. “Strahgil’s charge is close to a year Xander’s senior, I believe. Perhaps we will arrange a contest.”

“Closer to two years,” Mercy snorted. “Still, I am confident that Xander can handle her easily.”

The Shard addressed Xander. “And your gift. Have you become accustomed to Death’s Kiss, brother?”

“More so as each day passes, Lord.”

“What spells can he command thanks to the kiss, Mercy?”

Mercy motioned with her chin at Xander and he answered. “Thus far I have learned to call bonestorm, detect undead, and true sight, Lord Shadow.”

“Bonestorm?”

“That’s right,” Mercy said.

The Shard sniffed and tapped a pouch attached to Xander’s belt. “That explains the bag full of bone dust. What’s your cast time on that spell?”

“Four seconds.”

“Only seconds? That is extremely fast. Were you able to use the spell to decent effect?”

“He killed servants of the Light with it,” Mercy said.

The commander’s eyes widened. “Is that so?”

“A holy paladin and his young squires.”

The Shard laughed. “Bravo, lad.”

“Plus a mid-level priest.”

The Shard frowned. “In a single cast?”

Xander nodded.

“That is extremely impressive. A generous sacrifice to the Dark Lady. Be seated.” The Shard gestured toward a table and they moved to sit, Mercy and Xander on one side, the Shard on the other. A young girl placed cups in front of them and another followed behind to fill them with wine. The Shard raised his glass. “To a successful first adventure.” He touched his glass to each of the others’ and then took a long drink. “I’m glad that you’re doing well, Xander. When you first returned from visiting the Dark Lady, I did not expect you to survive long.” He nodded at Mercy. “When she agreed to train you, I grudgingly increased your odds. But now that you return with considerable success and experience under your belt, I am much more optimistic about your future. I find a small part of me actually hoping for your continued prosperity.”

“You praise him too highly, brother,” Mercy said.

“Not really.” The Shard drained his glass. The servant rushed to refill it. “It is apparent that you are ready to participate in full-scale battle, which is very timely.” The hint of a smile touched his lips before he took a sip of wine. “One or two conflicts have arisen since your departure.”

“With followers of the Light?” Mercy asked.

“No. A different opportunity has come calling, and I think the two of you would be well suited to participate.” He stared at Xander. “The Scouts have requested our aid in hunting down these New Travellers.”

Xander kept his expression neutral as he returned the leader’s icy gaze.

“Chasing stragglers after the battle has been won is a waste of my talents, brother,” she said.

“Normally, but these New Travellers are extremely clever. The few thousand who still remain—they infiltrate all aspects of our lives, hiding their essence inside the bodies of those who were once friends and family.”

“Possession.” Mercy shrugged. “I’m familiar with how they work.”

“Of course.” His eyes flitted to Xander and then away as the Shard took another drink of wine.

“I will consider your request.” Mercy set her glass on the table and stood.

“Request?” The Death Stryker frowned.

“During training it is my responsibility to decide the course of action that my charge follows. It is my right.”

“I do not challenge that.”

“Good.” Mercy nodded to Xander. They stood as one and turned to leave.

“The Scout representative will arrive within the week,” the Shard said. “You will remain here until then.”

Mercy spun, eyes flashing.

“You train him. I won’t interfere with that. I am, however, still leader of this chapter house. It is my right to command all who follow.” He frowned. “Unless you intend to challenge my authority?”

Mercy’s lips pursed, and the fingers of her sword hand twitched ever so slightly before she tightened them into a fist and shook her head. “I do not.”

The Shard waved his hand. “Enjoy your brief rest from the road. I will summon you when the Scout arrives. You are dismissed.”

Chapter 13

Isaac entered the room and sat opposite Kara and Fen at the conference table.

“That was quick,” she said. “You boys barely logged in before getting killed.”

Fen laughed and Isaac scowled. “At least we found him. Not the outcome I was hoping for, but I guess the fact that I’m surprised is why we lasted so little time.”

“Jeremy had just begun to tell me about it.”

“Fen,” Isaac said.

“Right.” She grinned. “Apparently Sebastian was none too pleased to see you?”

“Stabbed me right in the throat.” The other two laughed as he reached up to rub at his neck. “It’s not funny. Hurt like a son of a bitch.”

“Every experience is real in there, that’s for sure,” Fen said.

“Is there any way to turn that part down a notch or two?” Kara asked.

“Likely,” Isaac waved a hand, “but I’m not messing with anything until we get the major issues solved. Tinkering with the programming at this point could make things even worse.”

“Well, we can confirm that he’s still alive inside Blades VR now. And where he is.” She reached forward and patted his hand. “That should make it easier to get back to him.”

“He’ll be long gone from there by the time we log in.” Fen paused. “We are logging in again right, Isaac?”

“Oh yeah.”

Fen’s grin widened. “He’s not gonna be any happier to see you the next time.”

“I don’t care.”

“I see another death in your future.”

“Maybe, but I’m not making it that easy. I’ll be expecting him to take a stab at me this time.”

“He will plan for that, too.”

“I won’t bother with small talk till he’s tied up.”

Fen laughed. “He is never alone, Isaac. We separated him from the crowd, but before I bled out there were three others in the alley by his side.”

“Really?”

Fen nodded. “One was a healer. Almost pulled me back from death.”

“That wouldn’t have been good.”

“I know. I think he wanted to keep me living so you couldn’t use me to track him again. I’d likely have been kept as a prisoner.”

Isaac snorted. “Doubt it. He likes you.”

“More than he hates you, though?”

Isaac frowned.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I hope you are. I mean, I know he’s mad at me but…” Isaac shook his head. “If I can talk to the old fart for a few minutes I’m sure I can calm him down.”

“Why is he so ticked?” Kara asked.

Isaac closed his eyes. “We had a disagreement.”

Kara laughed. “That’s obvious.”

“I threatened him.”

Fen groaned. “Ouch.”

Kara’s smile faded. “What kind of threat?”

“I shut him out. Bank accounts, access to the game, company. Everything.”

“Oh god.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a permanent thing. I needed to get his attention.”

“Which you did,” Fen muttered.

Isaac shot Fen a glance. “He put everything in jeopardy.”

“How?”

Isaac paused and then sighed. “He didn’t like the pay structure I wanted to set up.”

“Nothing new there,” Kara said.

“I know. If it were up to him, everything we create would be free and we’d be out of business. You know how little he cares about money.”

“Because he has enough to keep him comfortable for a dozen lifetimes or so,” Fen said.

“His attitude isn’t new.” Isaac shook his head. “Even when we had nothing, he didn’t care.” He sighed. “It’s dumb. The whole argument was a waste of time.”

“Sounds like it’s not a new topic to quarrel about,” Fen said.

“It isn’t.”

“Then why did you go overboard and freeze him out?”

“Because there was no other way to get through to him. He’d shut himself into his office. Locked the doors and wouldn’t open them even for me. This project is the biggest we’ve ever run. If it succeeds, everything will change.”

“In what way?” Kara asked.

“In every way,” Fen answered. “Blades VR will transform more than video games. It could affect our very reality.”

Kara frowned. “That’s going a bit far, isn’t it?”

Isaac shook his head. “It’s not going far enough. Fen’s right. If Blades VR takes off, millions of people won’t want to live in the real world anymore. They will happily abandon their lives out here for an opportunity to live inside the game world.”

Kara shook her head and Fen shrugged. “It’s hard to believe until you play, Kara. Blades is real, and it’s superior to this life in every way. Magic works; there are amazing creatures. You can inhabit a fit body with cool skills. Even sickness is rare, thanks to healing magic. I think most would want to stay inside Preu Treya over this world any day.”

“I think Sebastian realized exactly that,” Isaac said. “And it freaked him out.”

“It’s kind of freaking me out,” Kara said.

“Don’t worry. None of these factors matter at the moment, because people won’t be going into the game at this rate. The beta test is already beginning to degrade. If Sebastian refuses to help, then everything will fail before it’s released. Maybe that’s why he went in. To help it fail.” Isaac’s lips pursed and he frowned. “I don’t know. It’s too much to think about right now. The simple truth is that, at the moment, only two courses of action are available to us. Shut it down now and face the consequences, or get Sebastian to help fix the problems from the inside. I’m inclined to think he will help us.”

“Based on that warm fuzzy reunion you just had?” Fen asked.

Isaac scowled and then laughed. “He’s mad at me. I guess I should be glad we aren’t meeting in the real world.”

“Why’s that?” Kara asked.

“’Cause I’m pretty sure he’d stab me here, too.”

Fen laughed. “What’s the plan, then? Go back in and hope we can stop him from killing you on sight?”

“Unless either of you can think of something better.”

“The basic strategy is sound, but I think we can minimize your risk of getting killed. At least right off the bat.”

“I’m listening.”

Chapter 14

The journey to Darwin’s Vale took three days. At mid-morning, Sebastian, Ezref, and Shale crested a hill and saw the small town nestled in the valley below. Sebastian called for a halt, reaching into his bag to withdraw a pipe.

“It doesn’t look like much,” Shale said.

“Looks like a regular town to me,” Ezref stated.

“Boring.”

“You always say that.”

Shale snorted. “They are all so drab and blah.”

“Cities are more impressive.”

“Are they, though?”

“I suppose you have better dwellings in your homeland?”

“As a matter of fact—”

“Shale,” Sebastian said. “Leave it.”

“Fine.” She kicked a rock from the dirt road and watched it sail into the ditch.

“Ready to go home, then?” He pulled out his tobacco pouch.

“No. It’s just,” she blew a lock of hair from her eyes, “I guess I am a bit homesick.”

“Clean air. Delicious water.” He tamped a pinch of tobacco into the pipe bowl. “That’s what we get here.”

“Yeah.”

“Less noise.”

“Less noise?” Ezref asked. “Our villages and towns are noisy.”

“It’s different,” Shale said.

“Better or worse?”

“Here? Better. Totally better.”

Sebastian struck a match with his fingertip. “I don’t miss the insanity of our homeland, that’s for sure.” He held the fire to the tobacco and puffed on the pipe stem.

“Me, neither. I suppose.”

“You can return if you’ve had enough.” He waved his hand to extinguish the match and smiled at her.

“No way.”

“Then I guess you have to put up with a bit of drab.”

***

The village was busy, filled with people of all ages and classes. Shale’s head was constantly turning left and right as they walked, taking in the sights with wide eyes. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh and a smile.

“Not so drab after all?” Sebastian asked.

“Colour-wise, it is.” Her eyes glinted. “But the smells. And food tastes better here, hands down.”

“That it does.”

“Can we go to the market?”

“Sure.”

***

They made their way to the centre of town, where tents and stalls were clustered together. Vendors called out to passersby, offering samples and deals in an attempt to gain the attention of interested customers and their coins.

Shale stopped at a stall selling drumsticks and ordered three. Sebastian paid the vendor, and they moved to an area with seating to enjoy their lunch. They sat at a wooden picnic table and had only begun to eat when two human warriors waded through the crowd and came to a stop in front of them.

“Hello,” Sebastian said.

“Folks.” The larger of the two spoke. He had dark black hair and beard. A sword rested in a scabbard on his hip and he was covered in chainmail. “I’m Gralin.”

Sebastian smiled. “Hi Gralin. I’m Sebastian.”

The warrior considered them for a moment and then nodded. “You three are new to town?”

“We are.”

Gralin rested a hand on his sword hilt. “Are you all players?”

Sebastian set his drumstick on the plate and wiped his hands with a napkin. “We are. This town is safe for us, right?”

“Yep.” Gralin smiled. “Maybe the only safe place in all of Preu Treya at the moment.”

“And the entire population is made up of players?” Sebastian asked.

“Ninety percent or so,” Gralin said. “There are a few NPCs that don’t hate our kind, so they are allowed to stay.”

“That’s good to hear.” Sebastian nodded toward Ezref. “Our friend is a native resident of this land.”

“You’re an NPC?” Gralin nodded at Ezref.

“We don’t call him that.”

“You can here.”

“Yeah, still. We won’t.”

Gralin frowned at Sebastian, then he shrugged. “Whatever. As long as they behave, friends of players are welcome.”

Sebastian tilted his head and stared at Gralin for a long moment.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Anyway, I wanted to come over and welcome you.”

“Thanks, Gralin, we appreciate it.”

“No problem.” The warrior turned and then stopped, looking at them over his shoulder. “Oh, one other thing. First-time visitors are all required to stop in and meet the boss.”

“Okay.”

“Head to the main store in the centre of the market and ask for Bramell.”

“Bramell. Got it.” Sebastian watched the pair until they were out of sight. He noticed Shale looking at him. “What?”

“You didn’t like that guy.”

Sebastian shrugged. “He came off as a bit rude. Not a huge deal.”

“He didn’t appear to care much for me,” Ezref said. “Although I guess it’s easy to see why. Most NPCs want to kill him.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Sebastian said.

“An NPC?”

Sebastian nodded.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Not the way you say it.” Sebastian jutted his chin in the direction of the departed warriors. “But they made it sound derogatory.”

“Isn’t it?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, then paused. “I suppose so. Which is why I don’t like it being used at the moment, and neither should you.”

Ezref shrugged. “Bigotry is nothing new in this world. Every race speaks poorly of the others. Besides,” he smiled. “It’s way better than being called a dwarf.”

Shale made a tsk sound, then laughed. “I thought you were gonna say something about elves.”

“No way,” Ezref winked. “No reason to be that rude.”

Ezref and Shale both laughed, while Sebastian scowled. “Let’s finish our lunch and go meet this Bramell fella.”

Chapter 15

“Mind if I join you?”

Kara didn’t look up as she continued typing on her phone. “Yeah, I do.”

“Thanks.” In her peripheral vision, she saw the man slide into the booth across from her.

“Go. Away.”

No reply.

Kara closed the email program, set her phone on the table, and looked up. “You like this with all the women in your life, Jerry?”

Jerry grinned. “There are no women in my life, Kara.”

“I find that easy to believe,” she muttered and reached for her drink.

A waiter approached the table. “Do you need a menu, sir?”

“Sure.”

“No.”

The waiter’s eyes met Kara’s. She shook her head slowly from side to side. “A drink then?”

Again Kara shook her head. The waiter walked away.

“I can see why you’re alone, too.” Jerry raised one eyebrow and gave her a stern look. A second later, he grinned. “I’m also surprised you have time to be out and about, what with all your new responsibilities.”

Kara stared blankly.

“For the life of me I cannot understand why he left you in charge. There are so many others who are more qualified. Way more.”

“None of your business.”

“But it is my business.”

“You’re a salesman, Jerry.”

“A top-selling salesman. And head of the sales department.”

Kara barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?” Jerry frowned. “Your job is to sell the world’s first and most incredible virtual reality video game. And as if that didn’t make it self-serve, this new product is based on the most popular fantasy role-playing game of all time.” She snorted and shook her head. “Blades VR sells itself, Jerry. You don’t even have to bother going out and knocking on doors.” She frowned. “Do you even answer your own phone to take the orders as they drop into your lap?”

“That’s not fair. I’ve been in this business for a long time, Kara. You have no clue how tough it can be some—”

“You’re right.” She took a sip of scotch and leaned back. “You’ve been around a long time, which makes you old and out of date. Rather than do your job, here you are, stalking me—”

“I’m not stalking you—”

“You stalk me, and then sit down at my table uninvited to tell me how you should be in charge instead of me.”

Jerry shook his head, clearly angry. “It’s ridiculous. Everyone agrees.”

“Not everyone.”

“Most everyone. Those who count.”

“What do you expect from this little chat?” She raised her eyebrows and sat forward. “For me to say, ‘You’re right, wise old sales guy. I don’t deserve to run ARC Gaming while Isaac is out of town. Even though he made the call himself. Please do me the favour of saving poor little ol’ stupid me before I mess things up’?”

“You will, you know.” Jerry spoke through gritted teeth. “Mess it up.”

“Not your concern.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh? It’s not my concern? When customers start panicking they don’t call me first to find out what’s wrong? I know you are clueless on how things go around here, Kara, so I’ll give ya this one for free. They do call me. And over the last couple days my phone has been ringing off the hook.”

“Because I’m in charge?”

“That’s right.”

“Go home, Jerry.”

Jerry stood. “I hope your people skills are better with clients than they are with me, Kara. Starting tomorrow, I’m no longer covering for you.”

“I don’t need the kind of help you’re capable of giving, Jer.”

He mock bowed. “Good. ’Cause you’re not getting it.” He turned and walked away.

Kara retrieved her phone and began to type. She looked up once in Jerry’s direction and then returned to her message.

Chapter 16

Fen sat on the edge of the medical bed eating a chocolate bar as technicians attached electrodes to his body. Across the room, Isaac lay on his own bed and stared up at the ceiling while he endured the same process.

“Kinda cool that you can drop me in the same general area as your avatar,” Fen said.

“It’s a new function that we developed since we began the beta test.” Isaac continued to stare at the ceiling. “We’ll likely offer that as a premium feature when the game goes live.”

Fen smiled and took another bite of his bar. “Of course you will. There’s no doubt it will save us significant time by spawning in so close together. Couple hours’ walk is way better than days of searching and not knowing for certain if I’m even heading in the right direction.”

“You’ll still have to sneak away from training.” Isaac turned to look at Fen. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Fen laughed. “Nah, starting off as a young new warrior is fine by me.”

“Again with the warrior,” Isaac frowned. “I thought you’d want to try another class.”

“There’s still a lot for me to experience from this class.” He grinned. “Plus, I know some of the basics starting out, which will help me to level up quicker. At least till level seven or so.”

“My path will be a bit trickier, this time.”

“Going in as a higher-level bard.” Fen took the last bite of chocolate and pointed at Isaac with the empty wrapper. “It sure will. There are gonna be a lot of skills that your avatar possesses and has already mastered.”

“My problem will be using those skills without looking like a clumsy idiot. High-level bards are not easy to play in the PC game. It’s only by starting at the bottom and mastering the basics that you can properly learn the next spell or skill when it comes along. I’m gonna have them all, or at least more than a newbie, at my beck and call right off the bat. And no clue how to use any.”

“That’s why you’ll have to keep things simple.” Fen swallowed the last of his chocolate and crumpled the wrapper. “Don’t use many of your spells or talents. None, if you can help it, until you are away from others. You can practice them on the road once we meet up. The class really is difficult to play. Every single player who selected a bard has been ejected from the beta testing at this point.”

Isaac frowned. “The skills are tricky to execute. At this point, I think it’s super-easy to mess up and reveal that you are a new Traveller to the NPCs. Don’t worry, I’ll keep that in mind and avoid discovery.”

“It’s not too late to change the strategy.” Fen threw his wrapper into the garbage can near the table and lay down. “Enter as a young bard in training. Or some other rookie class.”

“And be easily killed by Sebastian again?” Isaac shook his head. “No, your idea is good. I will enter the game already powerful. That way I can protect myself when we find Sebastian. Increase my odds of surviving the encounter with him.”

Fen nodded. “All you have to do is avoid the pitfalls of being a more experienced character until we get to Sebastian.”

Fen closed his eyes. “Fingers crossed.”

“Let’s cross all of them,” Isaac laughed. “To get all the luck we can.”

***

“Isaac!”

A woman in her middle thirties ran towards him, skirts lifted with one hand, an ornate drum hanging from rich coloured cords in the other. He waited until she reached him.

“What is it, Lea?” he asked.

The woman leaned over, gasping for breath. “It’s Tobren.”

Despite the litany of details and information that Isaac had been forced to quickly assimilate upon arriving in the game this time, the name of his avatar’s only son sprang to mind quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“He was thrown from his horse against the barn.” She held the drum toward him. “He hit his head bad. He’s not moving.”

Isaac accepted the drum and they began running to the barn.

***

The stable man and barn maid knelt beside Tobren’s still form. They stood and backed up when Isaac approached, arms crossed and brows furrowed with obvious concern. Isaac calmed himself, letting the memories and experience of his avatar’s consciousness drift upwards so that he could make use of them. Tapping into the character’s experience of healing, he scanned the boy, noting the way the limbs were arranged and assessing the situation as best he could.

“No arms or legs broken.” He knelt and closed his eyes, allowing his fingers to feel the boy’s skull for signs of damage. Finding none, he gently pried open one eyelid to check the pupils for abnormal dilation, and then rested his finger lightly against the neck to find a pulse.

“Turn him over to see if he’s cut,” the stable man said.

“There’s no turning him until I make certain his neck isn’t broken.” Isaac heard the commanding tone in his own voice.

Footsteps sounded, and a second later Isaac’s apprentice, Jyachin, knelt beside him. “Is he okay?”

“Hush,” Isaac said. “This is not a teaching moment.”

“Of course.” The young bard stood and took a step back.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t learn something if you stand and watch quietly.”

Jyachin stood and joined Lea.

Isaac couched the drum in the crook of his left arm and licked his lips. He’d only been in this body for a couple of days and hadn’t found time to learn any bard skills or abilities. This was very different from the PC game he’d spent months playing. With the computer game, you clicked a few buttons and the magic appeared. In Blades VR, Sebastian and his team had created something so real that the very act of crafting magic was as complex and confusing as one would have expected it to be in the real world.

He pursed his lips and considered the unconscious boy. The odds were good that he wasn’t going to die. He was in charge of this small farm that his avatar had purchased years earlier. He could announce that Tobren would be fine and have him taken to bed to recover. No one would question his assessment, or wonder why he did not play a healing song.

As long as he did recover.

Isaac’s eyes flitted to Lea and quickly back to the ground. He pursed his lips. If I try to craft a healing and fail, he thought to himself, then they’ll know what I am. A New Traveller; a fake.

He closed his eyes and decided. With a nod he adjusted the drum and held his right hand over the tightly stretched animal skin.

“Wait.”

He paused and turned. Lea’s eyes were wide. “He’s not bleeding?”

“No,” Isaac said.

“Any sign of broken bones or damage to his head?”

Isaac shook his head.

“Then I’m certain he will be fine. All he needs is a bit of time and rest to recover.”

Isaac frowned. “I should sing a healing tune. Just in case there’s something wrong with him that I’ve missed.”

“Nonsense.” Lea’s gaze flitted to the hired hands before she looked back to Isaac and shook her head. She stepped closer. “Let’s get him to bed. If he doesn’t come around in an hour or two, then you can heal him.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.”

“But you were frantic when you came to get me.”

“It had just happened.” She smiled. “I was being over-cautious. Grab him under the shoulders. Jyachin, you get his feet.”

Isaac did as he was told and hefted the boy.

“Back to work,” Lea said to the barn maid and stable man. “If we need anything, someone will come for you.”

They carried the boy into the house and placed him on his bed. Lea sent Jyachin out to practice his bard drills. She sat on the side of the bed and placed one hand on her son’s forehead. Isaac heard the front door to the house close.

“Something’s wrong,” Lea said.

“Is he feverish?” Isaac took a step closer to the bed.

“I’m talking about you, Isaac.”

He froze.

She stroked Tobren’s hair slowly. “You’ve been different for the past few days. At first I thought you were simply tired. Then I thought you were about to have another angry fit.”

Isaac frowned.

She looked up. “Because you are stuck here. Living this mundane life while all you crave is the open road and adventure.” She paused. He said nothing. “But it isn’t that, is it?”

“I’m fine, hon. Everything is okay, I promise.”

Lea’s eyes became glassy and her lip quivered. “You’re acting like a New Traveller.”

He frowned. A flash of host memory surfaced as she spoke the words. “How my brother behaved when the change occurred in him.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Don’t lie. It’s exactly the same. You seem confused. Unsure of where you are, as if you only now arrived to your body; to this life.”

He paused for a long moment and then lowered his head. “I had no idea. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Lea stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Never mind.” He considered his next question carefully. “Will you tell the others? That I’m a Traveller?”

“A New Traveller.” She sighed. “That’s the real problem, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“It is. The Scouts have ordered all New Travellers to be exposed and dealt with.”

“The Scouts?”

She nodded. “The penalty for trying to hide you is death.” Tobren groaned and stirred on the bed. Lea turned her full attention to the boy, leaning in to make sure he was okay. After a moment he settled. “That’s a good sign,” she said. “I think that he’s going to be fine.”

“Good.”

Silence filled the room.

Isaac waited.

“I won’t turn you in.”

Isaac let out his breath, only now realizing that he had been holding it. “Thank you, Lea.”

She shrugged. “I know my husband is still in there with you. I’m not certain what kind of existence he is having, but it’s better than being tortured and killed by an angry mob.” She stood. “You’ll have to leave.”

Isaac smiled and Lea’s lips twitched. “You were afraid you’d be stuck here, living out your days as a farmer?”

“That unpleasant thought had occurred to me. No offence.”

She smiled, but Isaac could see the sadness in it. “My husband felt the same way when he had to stop adventuring. To settle down and raise a family. Perhaps it is better for both of you to be on the road once more.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow.”

She nodded and stroked her son’s forehead.

Chapter 17

Mercy looked up from her book and watched Xander stare out the window. The morning sunlight clearly illuminated the anger in his expression. She smiled and looked back to her book. “That will not do.”

“What won’t? Did you find something important in that book?”

“No.” Her eyes continued to skip from one word to the next. “I speak of your attitude. Rather, your lack of ability to hide your sourness.”

“I can hide it. When I must.”

Mercy looked up from the book and observed him with a blank expression. “What does my face tell you?”

He rolled his eyes. “That you’re not pleased with me.”

“No. The circumstances give that away. If you were to walk into this room right now and look at me, what would you deduce from my face, body posture, et cetera?”

“Oh.” Xander cocked his head, his eyes moving up and down to take her entire demeanour into account. Then he shrugged. “Nothing. I wouldn’t know if you are angry, happy, or anything in between.”

“Which means that your guard would be down.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then I must appear threatening.”

“No.”

Mercy raised one eyebrow.

“I’m always ready for danger. That’s part of your training.”

“Always?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

Mercy stood and drew her dagger. “Come here.”

Xander obeyed.

Mercy flipped the dagger and offered him the hilt. “Hold this in your hand and fully extend your arm to one side, keeping the blade at shoulder level.”

Xander followed her instructions. She checked the level of his arm and nodded. Then she pulled her chair to the window, sat down, and opened her book. “Now hold it there until I say otherwise.” She resumed reading.

***

Mercy read.

Time passed and eventually, Xander’s level of discomfort began to rise. First it was a small change in his breathing pattern, switching from long, even breaths to a more shallow cadence. Some time later, he would gasp and hold his breath before letting it out.

When Mercy’s ears detected the slight movement of material as he shifted his shoulder in an attempt to keep the blade in position, she closed the book with a sharp snap, looked up, and stood. Xander’s arm shook and shivered, but the blade remained extended in the air at his side.

Mercy moved to stand in front of him and crossed her arms. “If I command you to keep holding that dagger out there for another hour, could you do so?”

Xander stared past her into space. “Yes.” The word came out in a hiss.

“A day?”

His eyes widened and she laughed softly, extending one hand. “Give it to me.”

Xander held the dagger for a long second before placing it in Mercy’s outstretched hand. Then he lowered his arm and rubbed at his shoulder.

She returned the dagger to its sheath in one smooth motion, without looking away from her apprentice’s eyes. “We may think that it is possible to constantly do something, but it isn’t. The dagger was not very heavy.”

He laughed.

“For the first few hours.”

“True.”

“Over time, everything changes.” Mercy moved to Xander’s side and placed the flat of her right hand on the front of his shoulder, the palm of her left against the back. She began to massage the area, rotating her hands and pulsing varying amounts of pressure. He winced and sucked air through his teeth but did not move otherwise. “Earlier you said that you are always ready for danger. Has this exercise taught you anything about such a claim?”

“Yes,” Xander nodded. “It is impossible to do anything forever at the highest level, even the simplest of things.”

“Even the simplest things.” She nodded. “This is both a weakness, and a strength. When you first stand in front of another, they will never be more alert to danger than at that moment. As time passes, their guard will invariably decrease. Even should they want to stay fully prepared, their mind and body will not let them. The body has a cycle. It ebbs and flows, rising and decreasing in all areas, even caution and preparedness. An average person will tell you much about themselves through body language and expression.” She stopped massaging his shoulder and stepped back. “You held the dagger for a long time on the first try. Were we to repeat this exercise every day, you would hold it much longer a month from now. Though it is impossible to maintain control of your expression and body language forever, with training it is very possible to maintain control during every waking minute. ”

“But it’s okay to show emotions, isn’t it?” Xander asked. “I see you do it all the time.” He paused and then laughed. “Maybe not all the time, but you know what I mean.”

Mercy nodded. “Emotion and body language are powerful tools. Very effective when used properly. But it is you who must be in control. Do not be a victim of yourself. Unchecked, your emotions and mindset tell others what you are up to. Many times it is better to keep yourself guarded. Learn control, and then you can decide when it can be relaxed.”

Xander bowed. “This is an excellent lesson. Thank you.”

Mercy considered her apprentice and smiled. “Thank me by showing that you understand and have learned it.”

Chapter 18

The three stood in front of a large white building in the centre of the town. It was two and a half storeys high, which made it the tallest building in the settlement. Large windows on the first floor allowed passersby to view the display cases, which were filled with a large assortment of items for sale. Three wooden steps led up to the narrow white porch that surrounded the front and both sides of the building. Entry was provided through two large, glass-paned double doors.

Sebastian squinted up at the rectangular white sign mounted to the second-floor siding. “That’s funny.”

“What is?” Shale followed his gaze, looking up at the neatly painted black letters.

“The sign.”

“Olson’s Mercantile?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be his last name. I’m not sure what’s so funny about it.”

“Bramell Olson?” Sebastian said, laughing. “If so, there’s no way that’s his real name.” He stared at Shale and waited. “You don’t get the reference?”

She shook her head.

“Little House on the Prairie?”

“What’s that?”

“It was a TV show.” He paused and waited. She said nothing. “Never mind. You’re too young.” Sebastian laughed. “Let’s go in.”

A bell attached to the door rang as they entered and looked around.

“Good morning,” A dwarf wearing an apron greeted them from behind the main counter. “What can I do fer ya?”

“You can bring the family out,” Sebastian said. “I’d love to meet Nellie and Willie. I’m not sure about meeting your wife, though.”

Shale frowned and looked at Ezref. The young crafter shrugged but the dwarf barked out a loud laugh.

“There will be no appearance by Harriet Olson, this day. Sadly, I was only able to recreate the house and store, not the family.”

The dwarf waited until they made their way to where he stood at the back of the room, then he stuck his hand over the counter. Sebastian took it and the two men shook. “I’m Bramell. It’s good to meet another fan of old television shows from back home.”

“Ahh, that’s what you meant by Little House on the Prairie,” Shale said. “That’s why I didn’t get the reference. Must have been before my time.”

Sebastian raised one eyebrow, and Bramell’s grin widened. “It was before mine as well,” the dwarf said, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t watch all the episodes at least twice.” He sighed. “Simpler times during that period. I think it was set in the late 1800s?”

“That’s right. 1870s.” Sebastian turned, slowly taking in the rest of the store. “Your memory of the place is pretty good. It’s like I’m standing inside the TV show.”

“Thanks.” Bramell reached for a round glass canister and removed the lid. Inside were various coloured sticks. “Have a sugary treat. On the house.”

Shale took a pink one and sucked on it. “Oh wow. Watermelon flavour!”

“Mine’s grape.” Ezref licked his lips and grinned.

“Sorry, friends.” Bramell replaced the lid on the container and returned it. “I didn’t catch your names.”

Sebastian indicated each of them in turn. “That’s Shale, he’s Ezref, and I’m Sebastian.”

Bramell’s head cocked and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. “Sebastian?”

“That’s right.”

“Ha!” The dwarf laughed and slapped the countertop, his eyes brightening. “Well, isn’t this an honour.”

“Honour?” Shale frowned.

“You’re Sebastian!” Bramell tapped his chest. “I can’t count how many times I tried to meet you in real life and never managed to do so. Now we finally meet. Inside a video game, no less.” He laughed again. “This is a huge moment for me.”

“I think you’ve got me confused with some other Sebastian.”

“Come on, now.” Bramell pursed his lips and shook his head. “You know better than that, and so do I.”

Sebastian raised one eyebrow.

“What’s he mean by that, Seb?” Ezref asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Of course you are.” Bramell made a tsk sound. “Name lock. Multiple characters can’t have the same name. Once a player selects a name, it is locked.”

Shale laughed. “That’s the PC version.” She rolled her eyes at Sebastian. “How many times have we run into characters named Bodups, Thrambadar, and Horeb on our adventures so far, Seb? Sure, those names are popular because of the gaming legends who first played them, but still.” She shook her head. “Name lock doesn’t seem to apply in Blades VR.”

Bramell fixed his gaze on Sebastian. “It does, but only for one name. Sebastian.”

“Is that true, Seb?”

Sebastian ignored her question. “How do you know that?”

Bramell’s smile widened. “I am a trader who understands that information is the most valuable commodity of all.”

“A trader?” Sebastian stroked his beard. “And you tried to meet me in real life…”

“Many times.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Joshua Milfield?”

Bramell laughed and bowed deeply. “At your service, Mr. Darndhal.”

“Joshua Milfield? You mean, ‘The Farmer King’?” Shale’s eyes widened.

Bramell made a flourish with one hand. “The one and only.”

“Farmer King?” Ezref asked.

“Slave master, is more like it,” Sebastian growled.

“That’s a bit unfair.”

“You hired thousands of poor children to sit in front of computers for twelve or more hours a day.”

“To play computer games. I paid kids to play computer games.”

Sebastian snorted. “Please. They didn’t get to really play. Each kid had to log in and kill basic creatures in starting zones. They could never leave the start zones. And they had to kill creatures as fast as possible. The slow kids were thrown out to make room for those who were fast.”

Bramell shrugged. “Sounds like common sense, if you ask me.”

“At the end of their long, boring shifts, they turned all the gold and items collected over to a master account controlled by you.”

“One of my office managers.”

“Of course. You’d never be around. Instead, you’d make them work like dogs and then take all the digital currency. Then you would sell the virtual gold to casual players in exchange for real cash. They in turn would use the digital currency to purchase in-game items that they could not otherwise afford.”

“Not everyone can grind all day to earn gold in a game.”

“But they could to buy it with real money. Real cash for digital gold.”

“Oh, please.” Bramell shook his head. “You’re describing every other system of control and commerce throughout history. Serfs worked all their lives to grow food for lords who sat in their castles. Miners lived in the dark, dangerous caverns of mines to extract precious minerals for rich men who never dirtied their hands but reaped the rewards of thousands who did. And the currency they exchanged was no more real or fake than the digital coin.”

Sebastian pursed his lips.

“Those children earned more money working for me than their parents did working in factories.”

He waited for Sebastian to reply, but he didn’t.

“An economy is key to prosperity, Sebastian, even in computerized communities. You built the system; don’t blame me for using it.”

“There is using, and then there is exploiting,” Sebastian said. “The average player could work a forty-hour week gaining treasure and coin in Blades PC and trade the results for money in the real world, but they would not make enough to buy very much. By using poor kids in third world countries, you took basic effort and compounded it to make millions of dollars.”

Bramell laughed. “I never thought I’d get the chance to say this to you.” He raised one hand. “Let me take a moment to savour it.” He licked his lips. “Don’t hate the player, Sebastian. Hate the game.”

Sebastian stared at the dwarf for a long moment. Then he laughed.

***

Sebastian placed the fork and knife on his plate and leaned back in his chair. “That was delicious, Bramell. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Sebastian, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“This was my first time having roast beef since I arrived.”

Bramell chuckled. “Cows exist here, but no one considered eating them. That’s a strange little twist you built into the game.”

“I think the NPCs will get around to making that discovery eventually.”

“It’ll likely be one of ours that takes it back out into the world to share with the rest.”

“One of ours.” Sebastian stroked his beard.

“NPCs.”

“I know whom you were referring to. I don’t think I like the way you and many others are doing the referring, is all.”

Bramell took a bite of potato and chewed. “You consider them to be real.”

“They are real.”

“No. They’re digital.”

“They are as real as every other thing inside this place.”

Bramell’s mouth turned downwards. “I suppose, but the fact remains that us players feel a gamer disconnect from them.”

“Gamer disconnect?” Ezref asked. “What do you mean by that?”

“If I were to draw an elf on a piece of paper,” Bramell said, “and ask you to burn it to ash, would you have any problem doing so?”

“No,” Ezref said.

“How ’bout if I created a convincingly realistic form out of straw and dressed it to look like an elf. Could you hack it to pieces with a sword?”

Ezref laughed. “Sure.”

“And let’s take it one step further. You cast a clone spell.”

“Of who?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He waved a hand towards Sebastian. “Him, you. Whoever. Your group is fleeing from certain death. The boat being used to escape won’t hold the clone and there is a long duration left on the spell. What do you do?”

“With the clone?” Ezref’s eyebrows furrowed. “Leave it on shore while the rest of us get in the boat and escape.”

“But the mobs will tear it to pieces.”

“Who cares?” Ezref laughed. “It’s not real.”

“Sure it is.”

The crafter shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

Bramell’s eyes met Sebastian’s, and he smiled. “Indeed I do.”

Ezref saw the look between the two men. “What am I missing?”

Bramell spread his hands. “Not a thing. I would say you illustrated my earlier point perfectly. You see, Ezref, how you feel about each of my examples is exactly how New Travellers feel about NPCs. About you.”

Ezref paused, his lips pursed tightly.

Sebastian reached out and placed a hand on Ezref’s arm. “Not all of us feel that way.”

Ezref’s frown did not lessen as he nodded.

Chapter 19

“Are you Fen?”

Fen considered the young bard for a moment. Then he looked around to see if anyone else was watching them before turning back to answer. “Might be. Who are you?”

“I’m Jyachin. My master sent me to find you and bring you to our camp outside of town.”

“That’s not happening.”

“He said to tell you it was about a…” the boy frowned. “Corporate merger?”

“Did he now?”

“With something else attached.” The boy scratched his head. “I can’t remember the exact words. They were so strange to pronounce.”

“I bet.” Fen held in a laugh as he watched the boy’s face contort with effort.

The boy’s eyes widened and he broke into a smile. “Stock options! Yep. That’s what he said.”

Fen laughed and stood, retrieving his shield from the back of the chair. “Well done, lad. Take me to your master.”

***

Isaac heard the signal whistle and looked up from the campfire as his apprentice and a young warrior emerged from the woods.

“Wow, you’re an ugly-looking one.” Fen lowered his gear to the ground and sat cross-legged by the fire.

“I was about to say you looked better than last time.” Isaac passed him a mug of ale. “But after that insult, you get no compliment from me.”

“Too late.” Fen winked and clinked his mug against his friend’s before taking a long drink. “Ahh, that’s the stuff. Thanks, mate.”

“No worries.”

“Why are we meeting out here on the road in the middle of the night?”

“’Cause that town you were sitting in really hates players.”

“Tough not to get that impression, what with all the hanging corpses outside the gates and all.”

“My wife assured me that I’d be tagged and dealt with fairly quick if I were to go in.”

“Your wife?” Fen raised one eyebrow. “Nice.”

“Master Isaac is well-known in town,” Jyachin said. “Before, I mean. Most would easily see the changes in him now.” He let his thoughts trail off as he watched Isaac.

“You okay with that, lad?” Fen asked. “Your master being different from what he was? If not, we can send you on your way with a bit of money and no hard feelings.”

Jyachin frowned. “He is my master.”

“Was. Like you said yourself, that guy is gone. And believe me, he won’t be teaching you anything else.”

“Hey,” Isaac scowled.

Fen laughed. “It’s true. You have a lot of learning yourself to do, man. This avatar has serious skills.” His gaze slid to Jyachin. “What level is he?”

“Forty-two.”

Fen whistled.

“Damn,” Isaac said. “That is pretty impressive.”

“Only if you can use the abilities locked inside of you.”

“I should be able to get the hang of it.”

“I can help,” Jyachin said.

Isaac leaned forward. “Really?”

The apprentice nodded. “You have taught me much. Treated me like your own son. I would be honoured to return some of that kindness.”

“You realize it wasn’t actually him that treated you well, right kid?” Fen took another drink of ale and twitched as Isaac kicked him. “Ow. I’m just saying.”

“Don’t ‘just say’ anything else, please.” Isaac turned back to Jyachin. “If you’re willing, I would appreciate any help that you can give.”

“Then I will accompany you and see to your training.” He smiled. “I never thought I’d be saying those words to my own master.”

“Fen’s right. I might look like your master, but inside,” he tapped his head, “I’m a stranger. You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t really have anything better to do. I mean, I could adventure.” He smiled. “But something tells me that staying with you will be an adventure on its own.”

Fen laughed. “Count on that for sure, kid.”

“Kid? I’m older than you.”

“Oh, right.” His eyes darted to Isaac. “Here, you are. But where I come from—”

“Don’t further confuse things,” Isaac said. “My apprentice is older than you, so stop calling him boy.”

Fen laughed. “And you’d likely better stop calling Jyachin your apprentice. Especially since he’s the one doing the teaching from now on.”

Jyachin laughed, and Isaac felt his cheeks flush with warmth. “Point taken.”

Isaac refilled their mugs and the three sat quietly watching the fire for a time.

“Where are we going?” Jyachin finally asked.

“Great question.” Isaac said. “Any word on where Sebastian’s gotten to?”

“Nope. We’ll have to travel from town to town until we run into him again. Here’s hoping we get lucky and find him sooner than later.”

“I don’t know.” Isaac shrugged. “I intend to train while we travel. I’d like to have some skill level before we meet up.”

“You’re inside the body of a forty-something-year-old man. Even with zero skills, you should be able to fend off a crafter with a knife.” Fen’s eyes glinted.

“He surprised me last time.”

Fen turned to Jyachin. “What’s the closest town, not counting the one you found me in?”

“There are a couple.” Jyachin was frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Fen asked.

“If it were me and I wanted to find a New Traveller, I’d start where the majority of them are gathering.”

“There’s such a place?” Isaac asked.

Jyachin nodded. “Darwin’s Vale.”

“How far away is it?”

“Couple weeks by foot.”

Isaac nodded. “What do you think, Fen?”

“Make our way toward it and visit everything on the way?” Fen raised his mug in a toasting motion to the apprentice bard. “I think Jyachin is already starting to be useful to this little group of ours.”

Chapter 20

Xander opened his eyes to find his shard imp perched on his chest and watching him.

“Mortals waste so much time sleeping,” Xyclotl whined.

Xander sat up. The shard imp took to the air, his wings making small clacking sounds as they flapped.

“How did you get here?” Xander whispered.

“Huh?”

“I’ve only ever seen you in my dreams. How did you get into my room?”

“You like to talk a lot.”

“No, I—” Xander pursed his lips.

Xyclotl’s teeth flashed. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see. Let’s go.”

Xander stood and threw on a pair of pants and his leather boots before joining the shard imp at the door.

Xyclotl smirked. “Wanna put your armour on, too?”

“I figured you’d tell me to if I needed it.”

“That’s a bad assumption, pal.”

“Shh.”

“Right. Sorry,” he whispered.

“Do I need armour?”

“No.”

Xander sighed. “Then let’s go.”

Xander followed quietly as the shard imp made its way down the stairs and through a winding path of long halls, large rooms, and both common and private areas. Each time they reached a door, Xyclotl flew close and unlocked it with a word of magic.

They finally entered the chapel and stopped in front of the blackened stone door that led to the underground chambers. Xander knew this door was not locked. There was no need. It was not a destination most people would enter willingly.

“Get the door,” Xyclotl said.

“Nope.”

“Come on.”

“Uh-uh.”

“I can’t open it.”

“It’s not locked.”

“I know that. I can’t push it open, though.”

“Then I guess we have a problem, ’cause I won’t.”

The shard imp grinned. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I thought you were supposed to look out for me.”

“That’s right.”

Xander frowned. “It’s not a good idea to go down there.”

“Not for average people. But you ain’t average, kid.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

A bark of laughter sounded from the tiny creature, the sound echoing in the large open area. “No need to start throwing insults around, boy. There’s nothing kind about me. If I say something, it’s because it’s the truth.” Xyclotl frowned. “Unless it’s a lie. But I’m not lying right now.”

“I’m going back to bed.”

Xyclotl made a hissing noise and landed on Xander’s shoulder. “You’re going down there and I’m coming with you. It’s not up to you or me. These are orders from the Dark Lady herself.”

Xander felt a lump form in his throat.

“There’s something down there we need to see.”

Xander took a breath and opened his mouth to speak. Xyclotl’s talons dug into his shoulders, which prompted him to remain silent.

“Just take us through the door,” the shard imp said. “I’ll get us to the right place after that.”

***

Xander followed the flitting form past cells and a large torture room, then down a long hallway lined with stained wooden doors. They came to an entrance that took them into a maze filled with so many twists and turns Xander became lost after only a few seconds. The only thing he could be certain of was that each step led them deeper underground.

The air turned cold, then icy cold, and then back to warm by the time they turned a corner and entered what appeared to be a dead end. Xander continued walking to the far wall and saw a door of glossy, smooth, black stone. The silver symbol of the Dark Lady rested in the door’s centre.

“This is it?” Xander asked.

“Yeah.” Xyclotl waved one hand. “Go ahead and unlock it.”

“I can’t.”

“Not with that attitude, pal.”

“Are all shard imps so mouthy?”

“They try, but I’m certainly better than most.”

“How lucky for me.”

“Hey, thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated for my skill set.” He considered Xander with a slow nod. “There might be hope for you yet, boy. Now get serious for a second and unlock that puppy.”

“How?”

Xyclotl sniffed. “If I knew, I’d open it myself.”

Xander stared at the door for a long moment. Then he shrugged and stepped forward. His hand reached for the doorknob…”

“Wait!” Xyclotl yelled.

Xander touched the knob and a warm tingle spread into his arm. The door began to vibrate, emitting a deep thrumming sound. Then there was a click, and the door swung inwards. Xander let go of the handle and the humming stopped. He stepped back and turned to face the imp. “What is it?”

The shard imp looked at him with mouth open and eyes wide.

“What’s your problem?” Xander asked.

“I was trying to warn you not to touch the handle.”

“Too late.”

“Yeah.” The shard imp landed on the ground and bent over, resting both forearms on his knees and breathing loudly.

“You okay?”

“Give me a second.” He took three more full breaths, then straightened. “Whew! I cannot believe that worked.” He began to laugh. “You should be a pile of ash on the floor right now. That was one of the dumbest things I’ve seen in a long time.”

“What was?” Xander frowned. “Touching the doorknob?”

“Yes.” The imp continued laughing. Finally, he stopped, and his eyes met Xander’s. “Only an idiot would touch the obsidian door with their bare hands.”

“You told me to try and unlock it.”

“What door has ever been unlocked simply by touching it?!” the imp cried.

“This one.”

Xyclotl was about to shout something else, but Xander’s answer made the imp pause and then smile. “Good point.”

“So…”

“Well done? I guess.”

Xander nodded. “Thank you.”

The shard imp laughed again as he launched himself into the air and flew to perch on Xander’s shoulder. “Since you’re still alive, let’s go see what’s inside.”

***

Mercy entered Xander’s bedchamber at first light. She opened the door without knocking and frowned to see that her student was still sleeping. She sighed, not relishing the punishment that she would have to assign for his lack of discipline.

She moved to the window and drew back the curtains. “Get up.”

Hearing him groan, Mercy pursed her lips and turned. “I realize that we are currently awaiting orders from our leader, but that is never an excuse to be lazy. In fact, the opposite is true. When we are most tempted to be complacent—” she turned and gasped.

Xander was sitting up in bed, his naked upper torso visible. Yawning, his arms stretched skyward. He opened his eyes and noticed that she was staring at him with her mouth open. “What’s wrong?” Xander lowered his arms to rest on the blanket covering his legs and frowned. “What the—”

Oily black tendrils covered both arms from elbow to his fingertips. The blackness moved and rolled slowly, like a nest full of resting snakes. Each mark was outlined by a thin, sharp line of sparkling blue-white colour; the lines moved also, and seemed to crackle like lightning. The whiteness of his skin disappeared under the marks as they moved, only to reappear a moment later as the tendrils changed their placement.

“This is…” Mercy whispered.

“Pretty cool,” Xander said. “What is it? Some kind of living tattoo?”

“They are called grasps, and they contain immense power.”

“Wow.”

“First the Death’s Kiss, now this. And on both arms…” Mercy shook her head. “Who are you, Xander? And why does the Dark Lady continue to rain her favour upon you?”

Xander held both hands up, flexing his fingers and watching the midnight-black patterns swirl and crackle over his skin. “What kind of abilities do I gain from these?”

“As you grow in power, there will be many things you can do with them.” Mercy sat in the chair by the window. “But for starters, you can throw away your swords.”

Chapter 21

Jerry stopped at Kara’s table and stared.

She finished chewing her mouthful of food and swallowed. “Pretty sure it’s official now, Jerry. You’re stalking me.”

A waiter arrived, carrying two glasses of dark amber alcohol. He set them on the table, and Jerry dropped forty dollars on the tray. “Keep the change, pal.”

“Thirty cents?”

“Huh?” Jerry frowned.

“Change from forty for the drinks equals thirty cents.”

“Oh.” Jerry reached into his pocket and pulled out a money clip. He peeled off a ten-dollar bill and added it to the tray. “Sorry, bud.”

“No worries. Thank you, kindly.” The server moved away, and Jerry sat. He pushed one drink toward her and lifted the other to his lips.

Kara set her fork down and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What do you want now?”

“Figured I’d come over and chat, since it’s difficult to get a meeting with you during business hours.”

“I’m busy.”

“I bet you are,” he smirked. “Running a profitable business into the ground must take up a lot of time and energy.”

“You’re clueless.”

“I don’t think so. Sales are in the garbage, Kara.”

“Which is your fault.”

“Investors are getting nervous too, from what I’m hearing out there.”

“Where?”

Jerry shrugged. “The beta testers who were released back into public life are not happy.”

“Because they aren’t still playing Blades VR. That’s not the worst publicity in the world.”

“They are saying the beta test was not long enough.”

“Beta testers always say that. It’s an indicator that the game is incredible.”

“Is investors asking for their money back a good indicator as well?”

Kara laughed and reached for the drink Jerry had bought her. “Which is it, Jerry? Are they getting nervous or are they dropping out?”

“Getting nervous first,” Jerry shrugged. “Then dropping out.”

Kara glared at him as she took a drink.

“And what about the beta testers who are still playing?”

“What about them?”

“Rumours are starting to spread. Some of the news outlets are reporting that they aren’t still playing. Rumours are that they died during testing and ARC is holding that information back.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He raised one eyebrow. “The non-disclosure agreement gives ARC Gaming permission to do exactly that.”

“How do you know that?”

“I read it online a few minutes ago. Someone leaked a copy of the agreement.”

Kara felt a tightness in her chest. “What?”

“About three hours ago, I got a call from Jenny Crisman.”

“The reporter?”

Jerry nodded. “She asked for a comment.”

“Why would she call you?”

“Ouch.” Jerry took another drink. “Not everyone hates me, you know. Outside the walls of your office, I happen to have a good reputation.”

“She’s likely calling everyone she can find a number for that’s related to the company,” Kara mused.

“You’d better hope not.”

Kara squinted. “What did you tell her?”

“That I had no idea what she was talking about and wouldn’t comment unless I did.”

“Good.”

“Sadly, I was telling her the truth. I would have said it anyway, but shouldn’t I have been privy to the existence of such an agreement, Kara?”

“Why? You’re just a—”

“A salesman?” Jerry laughed. “Maybe that means nothing to you, but my business card does have a couple extra words below my name. Head of Sales. Did Nick see it?” He held up a hand. “Never mind lying, I know for a fact he did. And he’s just a—” He grinned. “Head of the accounting department. Turns out that every department head was informed. Except for me.”

“Look, Jerry—”

“Save it. Whatever you tell me is a lie, and we both know it.”

Kara picked up her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending you a copy now.”

“No!” He reached across the table and put his hand in front of the screen. “I’ve already seen it online. The last thing I need is an actual copy emailed from you. No, thank you.”

“You’re a child. First you complain that you were left out of the loop, now you’re whining to stay out. Make up your mind.”

He leaned back and picked up his glass. “I want to be far away from anything you’re connected to. That way when it all goes to crap, maybe there will still be other job opportunities for me out there.”

Kara opened her mouth to speak, but Jerry looked past her and smiled. “There she is now.”

Kara turned to see a woman dressed in a business suit making her way toward them. “How did Jenny know I would be here?”

Jerry drained his glass, set it on the table, and stood. “I told her.” Jerry walked past her but she gripped his wrist. “Let go of me.”

“You’re fired, Jerry.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

The salesman laughed and jerked his arm free. “You don’t have the power to do that.”

“When Isaac gets back—”

“Sure. When your boyfriend returns, he can fire me.” He walked away and muttered. “If he still has a company by then.”

Chapter 22

Bramell and Sebastian walked down the main street of town.

“What do you think so far?” Bramell asked.

“Impressive.”

Bramell stopped in front of a shop and opened the door. “After you.”

They entered, and Sebastian smiled. “A teahouse, like back home. How quaint.”

Bramell led them to a table near the back of the room and sat. “One of my partners thought it would be cool to have a place like this.” He shrugged. “It’s turned out to be fairly popular. No matter where we go, people like a little bit of home to visit now and then.”

“Partners?”

“That’s right.” He grabbed the menu sitting on the table and handed it to Sebastian.

Sebastian scanned the menu items. “I didn’t figure you for the partnering type.”

Bramell chuckled. “That’s the only way I do business. Why take all the risk when there are so many others willing to climb on board to share?”

“Share. That’s the part I figured you would be against.”

The dwarf placed a hand against his chest. “How unfair of you to think such a thing.”

“That’s not how you work back home, is it?”

“Of course.”

Sebastian frowned.

“Come now, Sebastian. You don’t really hate me that much, do you?”

Sebastian lowered the menu.

“Go ahead. Tell me truly. I won’t hold it against you.”

“That’s the thing. Somehow you’re in a position where I don’t want to be on your bad side.”

“I doubt that could happen.”

Sebastian raised one eyebrow. “You remind me a lot of Isaac.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

Bramell nodded. “I see.”

“How did you manage to get into the beta testing? I specifically programmed measures to keep you out.” Bramell’s eyes widened, and Sebastian nodded. “You and a few other traders who were well known in the PC gaming communities.”

“Well, that explains my challenges.” Bramell stood and moved to the counter. He retrieved two glasses and a decanter filled with honey-coloured liquid. “It cost me a lot more than I expected to sneak my way in.”

“Only investors got an invite.” Sebastian crossed his arms. “And if they gave that access to friends or family, those people were thoroughly vetted.”

Bramell half-filled each of the glasses. “How many of my competitors did you catch and deny access to?”

“All of them.” Bramell raised one eyebrow, and Sebastian sighed. “Okay, I guess not all of them, since I was convinced we’d managed to keep you out, too. We caught and denied at least six.” He listed the names as Bramell returned with the glasses.

“That’s excellent.” He set one glass in front of Sebastian. “More profit for me.”

Bramell poured a measure into each glass, then sat and held his glass out to Sebastian. They clinked glasses and drank.

“Wow.” Sebastian’s smile was genuine. “What is this?”

“I call it morning glow. It’s a few different berries mixed with honey. Something my partner came up with. Any time you want a bottle, I can get it for you. No charge.”

“That’s not very business-like.”

“Please.” Bramell waved a hand. “There is very little you will ever pay for as far as I’m concerned.”

“I’d rather pay. That way I don’t owe you favours.”

The dwarf smiled. “First of all, you can’t afford most of the things you’ll need. You and your friends don’t look as if you’ve spent much time adventuring and acquiring wealth during your play.”

“We have a bit.”

Bramell shook his head. “Secondly, you owe me nothing. I am a multi-millionaire, thanks to the PC game, and I expect to be a billionaire less than five years after Blades VR goes live to the public. I know you don’t approve of me or what I do, but the fact is that I’d be a poor middle-aged man still living in his mother’s basement if it wasn’t for you and the games that you’ve created.” Sebastian started to speak, but Bramell held up a hand and continued talking. “We don’t have to agree, and you don’t have to like me—although I think you would, if you gave me half a chance—in order to have a mutually beneficial relationship.”

Sebastian took another sip from his glass.

“Twenty-five million.” Bramell raised his own glass to his lips.

Sebastian frowned.

“That’s how much it cost me to sneak into the beta testing.”

“Whoah. That’s a bit higher than the two-million-dollar price tag everyone else paid.”

“Aye.” He watched Sebastian for a few seconds and then nodded. “What the hell. I’ll tell you how I did it.”

Sebastian smiled and took another sip from his glass. “No need.”

“I don’t mind.”

“If it cost you that much, I will assume you had to bribe authorities, create dummy corporations, and pay off a lot of people to get in.”

“All the way to the medical tech who wired me up and put me under. Don’t you want to know the exact details, though? How I managed to outsmart and bypass the immaculate protocols you put in place to stop people like me from doing what I did?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Not really.”

“Wow.”

“I learned a long time ago that hackers and exploiters can never be fully stopped. If someone wants to steal badly enough, they will find a way.”

“I didn’t steal.”

Sebastian raised one eyebrow. “You’re willing to tell me how you hacked so that I will implement firewalls and security measures to prevent others from following your trail.”

Bramell grinned.

“That’s something I wouldn’t do, even if I could. Which I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a permanent log-in.”

Bramell’s smile disappeared. “What?”

Sebastian nodded.

“If that’s true—”

“It is.”

“You shouldn’t be telling anyone. If you die…” He spread his hands. “Then you’re actually dead.”

“That’s right.”

“You should be careful about who knows.”

“I have been. I will continue to be.”

“I’m confused.” The dwarf shook his head. “Why would you share something so sensitive with me?”

“Because.” Sebastian drained his glass and set it back on the table. “I may not like many of the things that you’ve done to get where you are, but I know without a doubt that you are honourable. You don’t go back on a deal, and you do not screw over your partners.”

“That’s true.”

“I see what you’re building here, and I think that it’s a good start.”

“Thank you.”

Sebastian smiled. “All you need is a formidable partner to help continue what has been started.”

“You?”

Sebastian nodded.

“What can you bring to the table that I can’t accomplish without you?”

“I created this world.”

“But you can’t affect it any longer. You are stuck inside.”

Sebastian smiled. “I know the location of every instance, every dungeon, and all the best loot spots in this world. Many caches that were created and then buried, by me, for emergency situations.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.”

“With knowledge like that, I could send out parties to retrieve it.” His eyes lit up. “I could be a true Lore Master.”

“That’s right.”

Bramell considered him for a long moment. “I always maintain the majority position in a partnership.”

“It doesn’t surprise me to hear that.”

“Fifty-one percent.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a majority share.”

“You’d be willing to partner with me despite that condition?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Bramell squinted as he considered the offer. Then he spit lightly on his palm and extended it. Sebastian mirrored the gesture and the two men shook. “Partners,” both men said in unison.

Chapter 23

Xander finished the stretching portion of his warmup. “I need swords for the next part.” He walked toward the weapon rack.

“No.”

He stopped and turned to face Mercy. She sat in a chair holding a glass of deep red wine. “You were given new blades by the Dark Lady. They are contained within the grasps that live on your arms.”

“Really?” Xander looked down and ran a hand over his forearm, smiling as the marks of the grasp shivered and moved in response to his touch. “I summon them?”

“Yes.” Mercy nodded and took a long drink from her glass before setting it back on the table. Then she stood. “Come here.”

Xander trotted over to her and stopped. She looked at his arms, lips pursed as if considering how to proceed.

“Do you know how I bring the blades out?” He asked.

Her eyes rose to meet his and she shook her head. “I do not.”

“Oh.”

“I have made enquiries of other Master Death Strykers. Not one is familiar with how to command the grasps.”

“Not even those who have grasps of their own?”

Her eyes flashed with anger before returning to a neutral expression. “There are no other living Death Strykers who possess grasps of their own.”

“What about the other chapter houses?”

“The last grasp bearer departed this reality seventy-four years ago.”

“Reality?”

Mercy nodded.

“What was his name?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Her name was Inzern Ceevrad, and she is a legend of our class. Such were her feats and abilities that the Dark Lady gifted her with a grasp in her fortieth year of life.”

“Forty?”

Mercy raised one eyebrow. “No one has ever received a grasp at your age, or anywhere near as young.”

“When was the last time someone was given two grasps?”

Mercy’s eyebrow rose.

When an answer did not come, Xander looked at his arms once more. “What can I do with them?”

“You must discover that for yourself. Access to the histories and lore is restricted to all but the highest ranks, but you will be given access. At least, the volumes that detail grasps and Death’s Kiss.”

“That would be helpful.”

“Maybe.” She shook her head. “I’ve not been able to find specific instructions on how to use them, even in the books. But knowing what prior wielders were capable of will at least make you aware of what is possible.” Mercy frowned.

Xander knew that look. “You have an idea?”

She ignored him. Xander waited.

Her eyes focused on Xander, and she frowned, as if only now realizing he was standing there. She returned to the table, sat, and poured another glass of wine as she considered him. “You are too young.”

“For what?”

She smiled. “Every success you have enjoyed so far. Let’s see if the trend continues. You are too young to be able to summon your shard imp yet, but perhaps that is possible as well.”

Xander laughed. “Xyclotl? Why would I want to summon him?”

Mercy’s eyes narrowed, and then she laughed. “Of course, you’ve already met it. In the Dark Lady’s realm?”

Xander nodded. “And in this one, last night.”

“Remarkable. Summon it for me now.”

“Um. I didn’t know I could actually do that.”

“How did it materialize last night?”

“I don’t know. I woke up and he was sitting on my chest. Then he led me to the ebony door and—”

“The ebony door?”

“That’s right.”

“What did…Xyclotl have you do at the door?”

Xander shrugged. “He told me to open it.”

“And?”

“And I did.” He held up his hands. “That’s where I got these babies.”

***

Xander sat cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed as he focused on his breathing. When his mind felt clear and relaxed, he visualized the shard imp, careful to be as thorough with his imagination as possible. When the mental picture was as realistic as he could make it—down to the finest detail, which included crossed arms and the disappointed expression that seemed to be the creature’s most common expression—he spoke out loud. “Xyclotl, I command you to appear.”

Long seconds passed. Xander pursed his lips to say the words again, and there was a faint popping sound in the air like a full balloon being poked with a pin. He opened his eyes and Xyclotl was there, black clouds of fog dissipating as the shard imp hovered in front of him.

“Great,” he muttered. “You’ve figured out how to summon me.”

“Hold out your hand,” Mercy said.

Xander did as instructed, and Xyclotl’s frown became an evil grin. Then he gave an excited shout and dropped onto Xander’s palm.

“Don’t let it drink more than a drop or two,” Mercy warned.

“Huh?” Xander frowned.

The shard imp bent down and bit into the skin of his palm. He cackled with laughter, raised his head back, and waited for a large drop of blood to well up. “This is the only good benefit of being ripped from home and sent to serve.” He bent down and began to lick the blood, making loud slurping noises. The pool of blood receded, and then began to well up once more.

“That’s enough,” Mercy’s voice was stern. “Make it stop.”

“How?” Xander felt a stinging pain start to move into his arm, and blood began flowing faster from the wound.

“With your will.”

“Okay.”

“Be forceful!”

“All right!” He tried to focus on sending a mental command to Xyclotl, but it didn’t seem to work.

“If it doesn’t stop feeding in the next ten seconds, you will die.”

The news sent a pang of fear and then anger through Xander. Before the feeling could overwhelm him, he latched on to the emotion and envisioned sending it at the shard imp as a blast of hot energy.

“Ow!” Xyclotl fell backward onto Xander’s palm. The shard imp scrambled onto his hands and knees, eyes focused on the bit of blood, but Mercy’s hand streaked forward and slapped the creature into the air.

“For the love of—.” Xyclotl stopped falling and rose, whipping around to face the Death Strykers. Xander could see rage in his eyes. After a moment, the expression faded and was replaced with amusement. He leaned forward, grabbing himself around the waist as he began to laugh loudly.

“What the hell just happened?” Xander asked.

Mercy said nothing, her icy glare fixed on the shard imp.

Finally, Xyclotl stopped laughing. “Whew, that was fun.” He wiped at one eye and shook his head. “Almost had ya there, buddy. Killed on your first summon. That would have been great.”

“Killed?” Xander frowned.

“If you hadn’t stopped it from drinking,” Mercy said, “the thing would have killed you.”

“You want me dead?” Xander glared at Xyclotl.

“Only if I get to do the killing,” the shard imp laughed again. “That’s the game, pal. And I was so close to winning!”

Xander turned to Mercy. “The thing’s nuts, right?”

Mercy’s anger disappeared, and she grinned as well. “It’s fine now. You are safe.”

“But he was trying to kill me?”

She nodded. “At its core, the bond between shard imp and shard is adversarial. There is always danger during the summoning.”

“Wish you’d have told me that before.”

“Did I not tell you to make sure it stopped drinking after one drop, two at most?”

“Yes.”

“How many times did I stress that?”

“Many.”

“Thirteen.”

Xyclotl cackled, and Xander threw him an annoyed glance.

“When the creature is summoned, a battle for control takes place,” Mercy said. “The summoner must retain the upper hand. If the creature ever wins the encounter—”

“The summoner dies,” Xander said.

“Worse.” Mercy said.

“You mean, better,” Xyclotl giggled. He hovered in front of Xander, sharp white teeth flashing. “If I win, you become one of us.”

“A shard imp?”

“That’s right, kiddo. A shard imp. And if I do the deed, then I get an exemption from serving a master for a hundred years.” The creature licked his lips. “Plus, you’d have been my slave for the next few decades. How cool for me would that be?”

Chapter 24

Isaac dropped to the ground and wiped sweat from his brow. The bard drum brushed against his knee and he kicked it, not bothering to watch as it clattered away.

“Hey!”

He looked up and shaded his eyes to better see Jyachin, who stood over him with hands on hips and a scowl on his face. “What in the twelve hells do you think you’re doing?”

“Leave me alone.” He looked back at the ground, lungs burning from the drill that he’d failed to do correctly for the tenth time.

“I don’t care,” Jyachin spoke through gritted teeth, “if you fail or succeed. I certainly don’t care if you’re tired and sore. Hell, I don’t even care if you quit.” He squatted down and pushed his face into Isaac’s until their noses were touching. “What I do care about is the instruments.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He sniffed and stood. “That drum was crafted over two hundred years ago by a revered master crafter. Artisans of such skill have faded into legend, and you are fortunate enough to own an instrument created by one.”

“Oh,” Isaac said.

“That drum has travelled this world more than once. It has healed kings and destroyed powerful monsters.” The young man swore and shook his head. “Its skin was taken from a race of animals that fell from the sky and no longer walk this land.”

“Really?”

“Do I look like I am spinning tales to amuse you?”

“No.”

“No!” The young bard yelled. “I most certainly am not. What I am doing is watching an old fart who has lost his way. A man who once entertained kings and queens, who stole the heart of a princess and made her fall so deeply in love that she chose to live out her life as a common farmer’s wife in order to be with him.”

Isaac looked up. “Wait, what?”

“Shut your mouth.” Jyachin stopped and panted for breath, having put everything he had into dressing Isaac down.

Isaac hung his head. “I apologize.” He waited for a reply. When none came, he looked up at the bard.

“Don’t apologize to me.” Jyachin threw his arm outward and pointed at the drum. “Apologize to it.”

Isaac frowned and turned, his eyes briefly passing over Fen, who sat near the campfire. The young warrior’s face was blank, devoid of its usual mischievous expression.

Isaac slowly stood and moved to the drum. He bent to pick it up—

“Don’t touch it!” Jyachin yelled. “You do not deserve to put your filthy hands on that beautiful piece of history.”

Isaac knelt down, head low. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Not like a child. Apologize like a man who has forsaken his true love because he was possessed by a demon and has returned after years away to win her back, even though he be unworthy and certain to fail in the task.”

Isaac frowned and Jyachin closed the gap between them. “That’s what she is, you know,” he whispered fiercely in his ear. “A thousand men would give their souls for a chance to play a single song on that drum. Search my master’s memories and you will know that I am telling the truth.”

Isaac allowed his mind to touch that of his host. The disgust and anger was so strong that he quickly fled from the contact.

Jyachin’s voice softened. “I know this is challenging. Bards are the toughest class to master in the world. That you have made the attempt is valiant. Lofty. But you must respect the true creators of our magic. We live to serve our instruments, never the other way around.”

Isaac bit his lip and nodded.

“Now apologize as if your career as a bard depended on it. Because it does.”

Isaac knelt and looked at the drum, seeing it in a whole new light. Up until now he had considered the instruments as nothing more than obstacles to outcomes that he felt were owed to him. Jyachin’s words and the memories of his host made him realize that this was not the case. It was Isaac who was the obstacle.

He bowed his head. “I am sorry,” he whispered. “I expect no forgiveness, though I crave it more than my next breath.” He frowned, feeling tears fill his eyes. “Never again will I take you for granted. If you forgive me, I will do better. Treat you better.” He sobbed, some part of him surprised. Wondering how he could get so emotional over an instrument. Another part felt truly and deeply saddened that he had failed so miserably, and craved a second chance.

Isaac heard a deep, faint hum. He opened his eyes and saw that the drum was outlined by a faint blue aura. The hum pulsed and then stopped. Then it repeated.

“It appears that your apology has been accepted.” Jyachin’s hand touched his shoulder. “Pick her up.”

Isaac leaned forward and picked up the drum. A warm pulse of energy filled his fingers and spread through his body. He stood and closed his eyes, smiling as the magic enveloped him and banished all feelings of weariness and frustration that had threatened to overwhelm him only moments ago.

“You feel it?”

Isaac opened his eyes and nodded. “I do.”

“Finally.” The young bard smiled. “You can now begin to learn.”

“Nice,” Fen said from his place by the fire.

“It wants to run,” Isaac said, as an image of running filled his head, the beat of the spell pulsing in his mind.

“Give it a try,” Jyachin nodded.

Isaac’s fingers deftly snagged the blue and red cords, looping them through his belt to ensure the drum would not fall to the ground. He tucked it into the crook of his left elbow and rested the fingertips of his right hand against the skin. It was warm to the touch and vibrated ever so slightly. He turned to face the open field and then began to play the tune that filled his mind.

The magic wrapped him up like a warm blanket on a winter’s night. He tapped the complete sequence twice, allowing the spell to fully materialize and fill the air around him.

Continuing to play, he began to run, laughing with pure joy as his feet flew over the ground, his feet barely touching the earth.

Chapter 25

Sebastian and Ezref strolled down the middle of the main street. Occasionally, they would move out of the way for a horse or cart, but mostly it was foot traffic.

A player who had selected an avatar from the Akshar race passed them and nodded, its reptilian eyes glowing red from the shaded depths of its drawn hood. Sebastian returned the gesture and continued walking, while Ezref turned and walked backwards, to keep watching the lizard man.

Sebastian chuckled. “First time you’ve ever seen an Akshar?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think?”

“Very creepy. I’m glad they usually stay away from towns.”

Sebastian laughed. “They stay away from towns because they are KOS to pretty much every other race in Preu Treya.”

“KOS?”

“Kill on sight.”

“Oh. Yes, that’s true, but it isn’t because of their appearance.”

Sebastian snorted. “Sure.”

Ezref frowned. “It’s not. There are other races that are odd-looking, and they are accepted.”

“That’s true.”

“They are forbidden entry to towns because they eat children.”

“What?” Sebastian laughed.

“Infant humanoids give off some sort of scent or aura that sends them into a blood frenzy.”

Sebastian gripped the young crafter’s arm and stopped walking. Ezref was not smiling. “Is that actually true?” Sebastian asked. “Or is it some silly superstition townsfolk made up out of fear?”

“It’s a known characteristic of the race.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Your basic knowledge of the races has been very good so far,” Ezref said. “I’m surprised this is news to you.”

Sebastian spun on his heel and took off.

“Where you going?” Ezref jogged after him.

They caught up to the Akshar, who had stopped to look in the display window of a spell component shop.

“Hi,” Sebastian greeted it. “I’m Sebastian.”

The Akshar turned and nodded. “Hello, Sebastian. I’m Srosk.” Its lips pulled back to reveal sharp, pointed teeth. “Tim is my name back home, but to go by that even among players seems ridiculousssss.”

“Hey nice role-play touch.” Sebastian grinned. “Drawing out the s’s in your speech.”

“I’ve tried to stop but can’t. Thankfully it only happens with words that end in the damned letter at the end of a sentence.”

“Is it true that Akshars eat humanoid children?”

Srosk’s eyes widened and the slitted nostrils of its nose flared wide. “Yesss. It is true.”

“Wow.”

“Tell me about it. I avoided towns when I first got here because the game lore is clear that Akshar are KOS to most. I felt it was safe to enter a small village at night, though.” Its eyes closed. “There were children sleeping in three housessss.”

“Oh no.” Sebastian pursed his lips.

“I had no idea what was happening.” The lizard man opened his eyes. “A powerful urge took control of my body. Before I knew it, I had climbed onto the second floor of a house and was staring through the window at a sleeping kid.”

“You didn’t?”

Srosk shook his head. “Thankfully a farmer came out of the barn and spotted me. He started screaming and throwing thingssss. It was enough to break the bloodlust, and I ran away.”

Sebastian frowned. “That’s chilling.”

The lizard man shivered. “I was afraid to go near anyone for days. Without knowing the exact problem, I had no clue what would set me off. Then I joined a party, and over dinner one night it came up.” Srosk shrugged. “Guess I don’t go insane to eat everyone, only humanoids under the age of ten or so.”

“Thanks for the information, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” The Akshar nodded and went on its way.

“That’s disturbing,” Sebastian said.

“It must be terrible for such madness to take control of your body and mind.”

“Not that.” Sebastian frowned and shook his head. “I mean, yes. That. But what bothers me more is that I was unaware of it.”

“You can’t know everything.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Things like that, I should.”

“It is common knowledge.”

They continued down the street.

A group passed them, and Ezref shook his head. “The gear on these adventurers is impressive.”

“The quality of items?” Sebastian asked.

“Quality, quantity. Everything from weapons to armour, right down to component bags and outer wear.” Ezref shook his head. “I haven’t seen a lot of this land, but I’ve visited the bigger cities. Hands down this group of New Travellers are geared better than the majority.”

“Looks as if we are now calling ourselves players,” Sebastian sighed. “So much for trying to fit in with the regular folk and adopt familiar titles.”

“The Scouts saw to that.”

“Aye.” Sebastian stroked his beard. “New Travellers was a mouthful to say, anyway.”

Ezref laughed. “Players does seem more fitting.”

“True.” A shaman walked past wearing a cloak made from multicoloured feathers that sparkled and shone in the sun.

“A gryphon cloak.” Ezref shook his head. “Seriously, where did it all come from?”

“All the gear?”

“Yes.”

“In our reality, Bramell is a very high-level trader. As soon as he got here, he would have spread the word that he was open for business. Once he had a settlement as a base, players would have begun to make their way here.”

“Why?”

“To bring the stuff they couldn’t use and trade it for things they needed.”

“They could do that in any city or town. No need to venture here.”

“Regular vendors are too expensive.” Ezref frowned, and Sebastian continued. “From my conversations with Bramell, his philosophy has always been about more than profit. It’s actually brilliant.”

“A trader not interested in profit?”

“Oh, he makes profit. But first, he concerns himself with investment.” Sebastian smiled. “That’s what sets Bramell apart from his competition in my world, and there has always been a lot of competition.”

“Give me an example.”

Sebastian stopped and looked around, stroking his beard. “See that druid over there?” He pointed to a young woman dressed in a dark green dress.

“Yes.”

“Let’s say that she happened to acquire a broadsword with magical power woven into it. What would she do?”

Ezref shrugged. “Find a vendor and sell it. Then use the money to buy something that she can actually use as a druid.”

“That’s right,” Sebastian smiled. “But what happens if she sells the sword for two hundred gold, yet wants an item for herself that costs two hundred and fifty?”

“She can haggle with the vendor to reduce his price. If he will not, then she waits until she earns the extra fifty gold. It’s been my experience that most vendors would do a trade in that scenario.”

“For fifty, likely.” Sebastian grinned. “What if the item she wants is four hundred gold?”

Ezref laughed. “Then she’s halfway to her goal after selling the sword, and better go earn another two hundred.”

“Exactly. That’s not how it works if you’re dealing with Bramell, though.”

“How so?”

“He takes the sword, and gives the druid the item she wants.”

“If she is two hundred gold short?”

Sebastian nodded. “That’s right.”

“That makes no sense.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“The trader is in the negative.”

“Correct. Negative two hundred gold.”

Ezref bit his lip and said nothing. For the next half-hour they explored. Between stores, the young mage broke his silence. “You say Bramell makes bad trades, yet he is very successful.”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“In Bramell’s mind, that trade with the druid, where he is down two hundred gold, is a good one.”

Ezref snorted. “I don’t see how he could think that.”

Three tables sat in front of a shop. Sebastian led the way and they sat. “In the short term, the trade I described is bad for him. Bramell gets a two hundred gold sword and hands out an item worth four hundred. Short-term, he loses. But Bramell plays a long game.”

“The druid will return.”

“That’s right.”

“How does he know that?”

“If you were able to buy an item for half the price it cost anywhere else, wouldn’t you come back—go out of your way to find that same trader—to shop with him again?”

“I suppose I would. What does he do the next time? Charge an additional two hundred gold for whatever item she wants, to recoup his initial loss?”

Sebastian laughed. “No way. Although, more often than not, the druid will hand him three hundred before starting any new transaction.”

Ezref stared at Sebastian. “What? Why?”

“Gratitude. And because most people are inherently honest, especially with those who are generous to them first. The Farmer King has a reputation for both generosity and loyalty. He is willing to extend both to everyone who enters his shops.” Sebastian smiled. “It is known that no one treats his friends better than the Farmer King. He offers them treasures and items at fair prices and pays generously for anything that he buys. He consistently pays better than any other vendor, and charges less.”

“And still somehow manages to make a profit?”

“An insane amount of profit.”

“I’m still not positive how.”

Sebastian raised one eyebrow. “Loyalty.”

“You already said that, but it doesn’t tell me anything.”

“I will give you another example.” Sebastian crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair. “There was a young crafter who started buying from Bramell early on. As a result, he was able to afford better spell components, wands, staves, et cetera, than he could have if he’d traded with normal vendors.”

“That matches the other example.”

“They all match. As a result, the young crafter levelled faster, survived easier, and became very successful, when others of his same age and skill level tended to fail and die. The crafter always returned to buy and sell from Bramell, and they became good friends. Sometimes the crafter would give extra, but whenever money was tight, which is often for a crafter—”

“Tell me about it.”

“Bramell would refuse payment and say to pay extra later—when, or if, he could ever afford it, without causing himself hardship. Bramell told him there was no pressure. No rush.”

“And later came?”

“You bet it did. The crafter eventually became a member of the council.”

Ezref’s eyes widened and he whistled.

“Indeed. One day, Bramell looks out his window to find three large, horse-pulled wagons rolling toward him. The crafter sent them, returning many of the items that he had used early in his career and a treasure trove of other items. When Bramell asked how much the crafter wanted for the entire lot of items, the crafter’s asking price…”

“Was zero?”

Sebastian nodded. “Bramell eventually saw his profit from the relationship, and it was tens of thousands of gold pieces more than he would have received selling and buying during the course of their transactions.”

Ezref nodded. “That’s a great story.”

“It’s a true story. And not atypical. Just an average day in the life of the vendor who started with nothing and went on to become the Farmer King.”

“Phenomenal.” Ezref shook his head. “What happens if someone buys and they don’t return the loyalty?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Then they are not friends.”

“And Bramell sends soldiers to collect any outstanding debt?”

“No. It is much worse than that. He never trades with them again.”

“Ahh, yes.” Ezref nodded. “That does make sense.”

“I know it’s a difficult concept to get your head around.” Sebastian indicated the street filled with richly outfitted players passing them. “But it’s like you said. The place is filled with more high-quality armour, weapons, spells, and everything you can imagine, all because of Bramell’s reputation.”

“Why don’t you like him?”

“I respect him.” Sebastian frowned. “I think I might even like him, especially in this situation I find myself. In past meetings, other realities, he was…disruptive to my work. In my previous role that caused me no end of problems.”

“Will it do the same here?”

“Not at all.” Sebastian smiled. “I know I tried to prevent him from coming to this land, but having Bramell here could turn out to be a very good thing for us in the long run.”

Chapter 26

“I’m not calling him.” Xander crossed his arms and turned to gaze out the window.

Mercy laughed. “Don’t be a baby.”

“He can steal my soul.”

“No, it can’t. Your soul belongs to the Dark Lady.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, but you’re acting like a frightened child, and there’s no need.”

Xander turned and gaped at her. “The thing almost took control of me.”

“Dominated. But it wasn’t even close to doing so. You regained control plenty of time before that could happen.”

“You said I had ten seconds.”

“Exactly. And you regained the upper hand two or three seconds later.” She shrugged. “Like I said, plenty of time.”

Xander sighed and shook his head. “There will be a battle like this each time I summon him?”

“Yes…”

“There’s more.” He plopped down in the nearest chair. “The way you said yes means there’s more.”

“The benefits of having a shard imp to serve you far outweigh the dangers.”

“And by danger, you mean being transformed into one. A shard imp.”

“You are young, with a very strong will. It will be decades until the risk of being dominated by Xyclotl is remotely possible.”

“You mean, aside from the first time?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

Xander laughed. “Six more seconds and that would have been the end of me. That’s too close for my liking, thank you very much.”

“Then smarten up.” Her tone hardened. “Remember this lesson. Your responsibilities carry serious consequences should you falter. Never summon your imp when you are tired or weak. They can heal us—”

“They can?”

“Yes, but if you summon one while you are gravely injured it will prey on your weakness and almost definitely have you.”

“Always be strong when I summon my imp.” He nodded. “Got it.”

“And send them away before you are too tired, for the same reason. They are clever. Deceitful. Especially in the beginning of the relationship. Mine knows very well the price of playing tricks, but yours will need to learn.” She raised one eyebrow. “And judging from what I saw, you have your work cut out for you.”

Xander stared at the floor until the sharp sound of Mercy clapping her hands together pulled his attention back. “Never in the history of Death Strykers has a young, strong, clever initiate been dominated by their shard imp.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, it will happen when you are old, weak, or tired.”

He laughed. “I do want to learn how to use these.” He raised his arms and flexed his fingers, watching as the patterns of the grasps changed and flowed over his skin in response to his movements.

“Then call your shard imp.”

***

Xander opened his mouth. “Xyclotl, I—”

“There’s no need to speak words,” Mercy said.

He opened his eyes and frowned.

“Most times you will need to perform the summon in silence. Call him with your thoughts. No outward effort is required.”

He nodded and closed his eyes once more.

“No need to close your eyes, either.”

Xander laughed and opened them. “That makes sense. Sorry.”

Mercy shrugged. “Proceed.”

It took him a few minutes to acquire the proper mindset, but eventually he did and sent out a silent call. As before, a loud popping sound broke the silence and a small outward explosion of a substance that looked like black baby powder puffed in front of him. Xyclotl appeared from within, flapping in the air. He raised one eyebrow and Xander held his palm forward.

The shard imp grinned and landed on the young Death Stryker’s palm. Xyclotl bit the skin and turned his head to look at Xander as the drop of blood welled up.

“Behave yourself this time, or I won’t let you have the entire first drop.”

The shard imp’s brows furrowed but he gave a single, terse nod. “Fine.”

“Go ahead,” Xander said.

When the drop was gone, Xander made an upwards tossing motion with his hand. “Enough.” He focused his will into the command and smiled as the shard imp took to the air without resisting. He glanced at Mercy, and she nodded.

Xyclotl looked around the room and then rested his gaze on Mercy. “Where’s your girl?”

Mercy shrugged. “Wherever she goes when I don’t need her.”

“She knows how to have a good time, that’s for sure. Tell her I asked about her.”

“That’s not likely to happen.”

The shard imp pretended to pout.

“Xander needs guidance.”

“With what?”

“These.” Xander raised his arms.

“The grasps?” The shard imp scowled. “There must be one of your kind who can give him the basics.”

“There isn’t.” Mercy shook her head.

“Yes there is. What was the name again…” he tapped a finger against his chin. “Inzern! She has one. Tell that girl to get off her lazy butt and give you a few pointers.”

“Inzern is dead.”

Xyclotl tilted his head. “Is that so? She went young, then?”

“No.”

“Your lifetimes are so short. I barely have time to learn your names before you’re kicking over dead.” He sniffed. “Fine. I’ll give you a few pointers, kid.”

“Master,” Xander said.

“Huh?” Xyclotl frowned. Then he bent over and began to laugh.

Xander frowned and glanced at Mercy. She shook her head.

Xyclotl laughed a bit longer before stopping. “I get it. She told you to be more in control. You’re a good boy and follow instructions. But let’s get this straight right now. I won’t be calling you master.”

“Okay.”

He flew close and hovered a few inches from Xander’s eyes. “Keep this in mind, too. Treat me how you’d like to be treated. Remember that someday in the future, it is possible that our roles will be reversed. Treat me well now, I’ll be good with you later.”

Xander considered the warning and nodded.

“Remember when I told you they are clever?” Mercy asked.

“Yes,” Xander said.

“This is a perfect example.”

“Hey,” Xyclotl scowled.

“If he ever gains control over you, he will not treat you well.”

The shard imp shook its head. “That’s unfair.” Mercy glared and the creature chuckled. “Accurate, but unfair.” He landed on Xander’s shoulder and patted his cheek. “I’d still advise treating me decently. I’ll work harder if I’m happy, pal.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

Xander nodded.

“Great. Then ask me anything about the grasps and I will answer.”

“What can they do?”

“Lots of things. More, as you grow in power. As a beginner, they serve best as weapons and/or armour. That’ll change as they level up, much the way you gain skills and abilities as you do.” Xyclotl grinned. “The good thing about the grasps is they don’t need a Scout to access new abilities. When they are ready, you will know.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they are ancient. They come from a time when Scouts did not exist.”

“Ahh.”

“Let’s get a weapon for you. Is it safe to assume you want swords?” Xander nodded, and the shard imp yawned. “Of course you do. That’s what the majority of you Death Strykers want. Severely limiting, if you ask me.”

“Why do you say that?” Mercy asked.

Xyclotl turned to look at Mercy. “You really asking me that, sugar?”

She nodded.

“Well, look at that. Someone willing to step outside the norm. What a treat.”

“It would be foolish to restrict options in this case. No one has had two grasps in…”

Xyclotl nodded politely. When she did not finish the sentence, he laughed. “You fishing for answers from me?”

Mercy smiled.

“I’m not really a history buff. Gets in the way of other more useful pursuits, like drinking, passing out, and spending time with the ladies.” He leaned close to Xander and raised a hand to block his mouth from Mercy. “In that order,” he murmured. Then he turned back to Mercy and smiled. “If I had to guess? I’d say no mortal follower of Darkness has ever possessed two grasps.”

“Are you serious?” Xander asked.

“Dude, one grasp conveys incredible power. Two—” Xyclotl shook his head.

“Did you just call me dude?”

“What? Of course not. Is that even a word, or only a strange sound you made?” Xander frowned and the imp winked at him. “To get back to the lady’s question—”

“Don’t call me that,” Mercy said.

“There are no limits to the weapon you can create.”

“No limits?” Xander’s eyebrows rose.

“Okay, a couple limits.” Xyclotl laughed. “You can create any weapon, but not projectiles too. A grasp-created item will not split a portion of its mass away from itself. Bow and arrows, crossbows, et cetera—those are not on the table. I mean, you could make a bow but not the arrow, or an arrow but not the bow.”

“Interesting,” Mercy said.

“One other thing. The larger the weapon, the greater amount of midnight you use.”

“Midnight?”

“That’s what the black stuff swirling around on your skin is called.”

“Oh.”

“Create a dagger and you barely use any midnight. Create a giant-sized, two-handed battle axe or pole arm, and you use considerably more. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then visualize a weapon and pull it out of your skin.” Xyclotl mimicked the motion that he wanted Xander to try.

“That’s it?”

“You’re welcome to say words or perform fancy motions,” he shrugged. “But yeah, that’s it.”

In his mind, Xander pictured a blade that resembled the swords he had been using up until now, but fancier looking. Then he wrapped the top of his left hand over his right and made a gripping motion. The swirling patterns of midnight pooled together over his hand, and he felt a warm heaviness beneath the skin. His hand closed and he felt something solid in his grip. Slowly, he began to pull, his eyes widening as a blade emerged. There was a ringing sound as the tip came free and he held the sword aloft.

Black as the midnight it was named for, the sword had edges that crackled and hissed with silvery sparks that trickled and dripped along the edge. The hilt was beautiful: blue-black, mixed with silvery blue, and very ornate. The blade was slightly curved in an exact match of Xander’s other swords. He held it in front of him, eyes wide. “This is a damned fine blade.”

“Damned.” The shard imp laughed. “Great word. Both clever and, in this case, accurate.”

Mercy stepped closer, a smile on her lips as her eyes travelled down the blade’s length. “May I?”

Xander looked at Xyclotl, who shrugged. “Of course she can. It’s a real blade. More magical than anything you’ve most likely come across in your life, but a sword nonetheless.”

He handed Mercy the sword. “The balance is perfect.” Her smile widened. “It’s light as a feather, yet I can sense its strength and power.”

Xander looked down at his arm. The remaining midnight had resumed its natural swirling in patterns that travelled over his arm, but the lines were thinner than before. “Still quite a bit left.”

“I’d recommend using the rest of it for armour,” Xyclotl said.

Xander nodded and visualized a gauntlet. The midnight swirled and took the form of his imagination. A gauntlet of shiny blue-black metal covered his hands and forearms all the way up to the elbow. A long, curved blade extended past his elbow and backward a few inches, forming a spur-like knife for close-range combat.

“Nice touch, kid,” Xyclotl said. “You can adjust the pattern and other aspects as well.”

Xander made a fist and held the gauntlet up in front of his face. A thin, sharp blade began to extend from the middle knuckle. He smiled.

“Yeah.” The shard imp cackled and clapped his hands together. “You’re gonna make a nasty bugger with this gift, aren’t ya?”

Xander laughed. “Oh, yes. I think I am.”

Chapter 27

Bramell took a bite of toast and slathered more jam on the remaining bit. “You a crafter, then?”

Sebastian shrugged.

“Modest. That must mean you’re powerful.”

“Depends on the day.”

Bramell looked up from his toast and stared at Sebastian. “What’s the problem?”

“I say anything about a problem?”

“Your tone did.”

Sebastian breathed in and let it out slowly. “I’m hit-and-miss with my abilities.”

“That’s odd.”

“Yeah.”

Bramell pointed at his head with the knife. “Not getting along with the previous owner in that avatar of yours?”

“There isn’t a previous owner.”

“Huh? Of course there is.”

“Nope.”

“First time I’ve heard of that happening.” Bramell squinted and took another bite of toast. “Maybe that’s the problem. Perhaps the host disappeared and took all the ability with it. You got a lemon avatar.”

“Oh, I can cast.”

“Craft.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Craft, cast, magick, whatever you want to call it. I can throw spells from time to time. Not consistently, though.”

“Well, you have to let the mana rebuild.”

“It’s not that. Doesn’t matter how much time goes by. At any given moment I can either cast or I can’t. Mostly, I can’t. When I am able to tap into the talent, I don’t seem to run out of mana.”

“That’s handy. Must make you very powerful,” Bramell smiled, “when you can cast.”

“Which is not so often.”

“Once a week?”

“Twice.”

“Hey that’s better than once.”

“No, I mean I’ve only crafted twice. Since I got here.”

Bramell frowned. “Damn.”

Sebastian nodded and watched the coffee in his cup as he swirled it. “I guess that’s not totally accurate. When I first arrived, I was able to craft whenever I tried. But a short time after that, the talent disappeared entirely. I thought it was gone for good…” he shrugged.

“But it came back.”

“That’s right.” Sebastian recounted his battle with the Scouts inside the dungeon. As he finished the tale, Bramell stared at him with an open mouth and the toast held forgotten in his hand.

“Then it went away again.” Sebastian drained his mug and set it on the table. “I have no clue what makes it leave, or how to bring it back.”

“What did the masters of the council have to say about it?”

Sebastian did not reply.

“You haven’t reported in?”

“Didn’t see the point.”

“Are they after you, Sebastian?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Bramell set the toast on his plate and rubbed his hands together to remove any crumbs. “I’d rather not face the magic council. We can, but I’d rather not.”

“You should be fine.”

“If you’re not positive, tell me now. I hate being caught with my pants down. Especially when magic is involved.”

Sebastian sighed. “Then prepare. We haven’t run into anyone claiming to be chasing us, but I can’t know with absolute certainty that we are safe.”

Bramell nodded. “Did you at least visit a Scout to find out what level you are?”

“I think it’s safe to assume I am not any level.”

“You have to be.”

“This avatar wasn’t a crafter before I jumped into it.”

“Is that so?”

“It was a village serf, as far as I can tell. People seemed extremely surprised when I stood up and left town.”

“Hmm. Perhaps that explains why there is no consciousness inside there with you.”

“Yeah, I think this was an empty vendor avatar.”

“Interesting.”

Sebastian stroked his beard. “Maybe you’re right about knowing what level I am. I must have a latent ability of some sort. I’ll visit your Scout and find out where I stand.”

Bramell scratched his chin.

“What’s the problem?”

“I say anything about a problem?”

Sebastian grinned. “Your expression did.”

“We do have a bit of a problem.”

“With?”

“Scouts. They aren’t exactly sympathetic to our cause at the moment.”

“Damn it. Of course.” Sebastian closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “You don’t have access to Scouts?”

“Which means none of us can level up.”

Chapter 28

Isaac stopped and knelt, dropping his handful of dead wood on the ground.

“I’ll take a couple of those, please.” Fen held a hand out and Isaac gave him two pieces of wood. Fen tucked one into the hot coals and then continued turning the rabbits on the spit.

Isaac wiped his hands on his pants and sat near the fire across from Jyachin. “What’s wrong?”

The apprentice pursed his lips. “It feels weird. You fetching the wood and doing chores like an apprentice while I sit here and do nothing.”

Isaac laughed. “It’s only fair, considering that at the moment you are the teacher and I’m the apprentice.”

“Still, it’s strange seeing my master doing the menial stuff. I know you’re not my master, but he’s in there still, right?”

Isaac nodded. “He is.”

“I imagine he is none too pleased.”

“That’s the general theme I get when I check in.” Isaac adjusted his position and leaned against his pack. “But there is some part of him that is amused by watching me play the role of apprentice.”

They sat quietly for a time.

“Your skills are progressing very quickly,” Jyachin said.

“Thank you.”

“Is it all that you hoped it’d be?” Fen asked. “The bard class?”

Isaac smiled. “Everything and more.”

“Any surprises?”

“Yes. I didn’t realize there was such a creative element to it all.”

Fen laughed. “It’s in the class title, man. Bard.”

“I suppose. Still, when we played back home that part was glossed right over. Here, though,” he shrugged, “it’s an excellent addition to the experience.”

“Creativity and raw musical talent are the two factors which ultimately determine how high one can rise in level as a bard. Most never go past level thirty, which is very mid-level for almost any other class. For bards, only a very few who possess true talent will climb higher.”

“Maybe I’m not able to be subjective here,” Isaac said, “but I have a sense that your master was extremely talented.”

“He was.” Jyachin’s smile faded and he stared into the fire. “And he also wasn’t too pleased about settling down.”

“Then why did he?” Fen asked.

“I’m not sure. I think it had something to do with making his father happy. They came from a poor family. His father was proud of him, but also afraid that my master would die on an adventure somewhere before getting a chance to enjoy the fruits of all his labours.”

“That’s the way to go, if you ask me,” Fen said.

Jyachin smiled. “My master agreed with you, but he loved his dad and honoured his wishes. He stopped adventuring, found a beautiful wife, bought some land. He made the best of it…”

Isaac turned to look at the apprentice. “There’s part of the story that you’re leaving out.”

Jyachin nodded. “Before your arrival, we were preparing to set out once more.”

“For adventure?”

Jyachin nodded. “It was time for me to begin journeying. My master had found a party for me to join, but the condition of taking me was that he also go.”

“His wife couldn’t have been pleased by that.” Fen poked the meat on the spit and then continued turning it.

“She was ready for a break. My master’s frustration had become tiresome for all.”

“She mentioned anger,” Isaac said.

“Yes.” Jyachin nodded. “He would have been pleased to be out here under the stars again.”

“He is. Pleased, and here.”

When the rabbit was ready, Fen began carving portions. A crackling noise sounded from the bushes. They turned, reaching for their weapons.

“I mean no harm.” A young man stepped into the light, arms raised to show he was not reaching for a weapon. “I saw your fire, and wondered if I might join you. I have wine, cheese and bread to share, if you’re willing to spare a bit of that rabbit?”

Fen squinted and then smiled. “Aleron. You old dog. What are you doing out on your own?”

The elf frowned and took a step back.

The warrior laughed. “It’s me. Fen. Got myself a new body and returned.”

“Fen?” Aleron cocked his head. “Is it really you?”

“Course it is. Boy, do you look much better than last time I saw you inside Dryad’s Heart. Thought you were a goner for sure.”

“Dryad’s Heart?” Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You’re the player Scout?”

“That’s right.” Aleron’s frown returned. “And who are you?”

Fen sauntered close and put his arm around Aleron. “This is big cheese number one.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Or number two, if you’re talking to Seb.”

Aleron shook his head and then raised his eyebrows. “Isaac Chase?”

Fen nudged him and stepped back. “In the flesh. Sorta. You know what I mean.”

“What are you doing in here?” Aleron asked.

Sebastian opened his mouth, but Fen spoke. “Looking for Seb.”

“Ahh.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve seen him lately?”

Aleron laughed. “No, but I’d like to.”

“Hang with us, then.” Fen walked back to the fire and cut another portion of meat from the spit. “We’re bound to find him sooner or later.”

“I would, but I’m on my way to a specific destination.”

“Where’s that?” Fen asked.

“Darwin’s Vale.”

“What a coincidence.” Fen held the plate toward Aleron. “We’re headed there, too.”

Chapter 29

Lirana ran through the large double doors, twisting her way past the guards as they tried to block her entrance. “Custodian Zecaras?” She yelled.

“Here.”

The guards halted when they heard the Custodian acknowledge her. Lirana turned and strode to the viewing pool.

Zecaras stood at the edge of the water, with arms crossed beneath the folds of his robe. He did not look up as Lirana came to stand beside him. She let her eyes drift to the scene projected on the water’s surface.

The godling stood once more at the invisible line of the barrier surrounding the dark wizard’s tower. Three crafters watched her from the road.

“She’s been that way for the past two hours,” Zecaras said. “Hasn’t moved an inch.”

“The crafters should retreat.”

“Yes.” The Custodian’s hand appeared from beneath his robe. With two fingers, he made a pinching motion in the air. The scene zoomed in so that the crafters filled the viewing area.

Lirana squinted and leaned closer. The crafters were wide-eyed and rigid. Their hands frozen in strange positions. “They can’t move.”

“Their terror is palpable.” Zecaras allowed the scene to zoom out. “She’s playing with them like a cat would a mouse.”

“For hours?”

“Yes.” He nodded, and the image in the pool zoomed out.

The godling’s head slowly turned until it seemed as if she were looking at viewers in the pool, and then she grinned.

“She can see us,” Lirana whispered. “She’s looking directly at us through the pool.”

The girl’s left hand rose and her fingers curled. She took one step forward, thrusting her hand through the barrier. Magical energy sizzled and sparked around her forearm as it made contact with her skin. The lead crafter began sliding down the road toward her, his body rigid and unmoving, heels dragging through the dirt.

Lirana wanted to look away, to ask the Custodian to do something, but she couldn’t. There was nothing to do but watch.

The crafter continued sliding, moving faster and then coming to an abrupt stop as his head slapped against the creature’s hand. The godling turned toward her victim, cocking her head, as a bird of prey would do when considering its prey.

What happened next occurred quickly, but Lirana saw it all as if watching in slow motion.

The godling’s arm retracted, jerking the crafter halfway through the barrier. The air hissed and the man’s eyes and mouth flew open. The magic closed in to re-form the barrier, cutting the man in half. The godling held the front portion of the corpse while the back half sloughed to the ground with a wet schlock.

Lirana heard a scream. Seconds passed before she realized that the sound had come from her.

The godling turned back to stare at them once more through the viewing pool. Then she laughed and released the remainder of the crafter’s body. Before it hit the ground, both of the godling’s arms extended and the other two crafters flew toward her. With a hiss, they zipped completely through the barrier and into her grasp. Multicoloured light flashed around them, flowing out of and then into the godling as she drained them of their life force.

“Stop the vision,” Lirana said.

The Custodian watched the godling, unmoving.

“Please.”

“Hush.” He barked.

“I can’t watch anymore—”

“Then look away.”

Lirana frowned.

“She’s about to leave the tower.”

As if on cue, the godling dropped the bodies and took two steps forward, stepping through the barrier as if it didn’t exist.

“Light and Darkness save us,” Lirana whispered.

The godling stood still for long minutes. She looked left, paused, and then turned to her right and began walking down the road.

Lirana didn’t know what to say. What to ask. She felt hope leave her, as tears began to flow from her eyes. She looked to Zecaras, the most powerful crafter living, for guidance on what to do next.

His eyes were closed. Head bowed.

Chapter 30

Isaac felt the aura of speed disappear and stopped playing the drum. He took another dozen strides and came to a stop.

“You were closer that time,” Fen offered, from where he sat under a nearby tree.

Isaac turned to Jyachin. “I think it felt better.”

The apprentice nodded. “Gettin’ there, that’s for sure.”

“Twisting songs.” Isaac trotted over to where Fen sat and accepted the offered water skin. “I knew it would be tricky, but not this much.”

“If it makes you feel any better, only one in eight bards is ever able to do it.”

“Twist songs?” Isaac poured a stream of water into his mouth and swallowed. “Is that so? But you can?”

Jyachin nodded. “You…my master wouldn’t have accepted me if I’d lacked the potential.”

“That’s a bit elitist, isn’t it?” Aleron said.

“Not really.” Jyachin stood. “The only hope a young bard with potential has of actually learning to twist songs is to be accepted by a master who can do it themselves.” He grinned. “Because, as you’re finding out, it’s tricky.”

Isaac laughed and dropped to the ground. “I need to rest.”

“Of course.” Jyachin reached for his drum and walked to the dirt road. “I’ll call out the steps and then demonstrate again for you.”

“Sorry to make you keep repeating this,” Isaac said.

“Nonsense. I’ve spent years getting to where I am, and even now I sometimes mess it up. Until you arrived, I was doing these drills every day. That’s the only way to get better, and I’m at the beginning of my career.”

Isaac nodded.

“Okay, then. I’ll recite the lesson. Don’t stop me. Keep up and save questions for the end.” Jyachin tucked the drum into the crook of his arm. “Every bard can play one song at any given moment. It takes three seconds of playing to create an effect, or as bards call it, aura. When you stop playing, that aura remains for an additional twenty-one seconds.”

Jyachin began to play what had now become a familiar tune. Even from where he sat, Isaac could feel the hairs on his arms rise as the speed aura formed. The bard immediately stopped playing and started to count out loud. When he reached the count of twenty-one, the aura faded.

“With enough talent, a bard can begin to play another song and cause a second aura to overlap with the first before it fades.”

Jyachin played the first song and the aura appeared. Then he began to tap out the sequence of another song. Three seconds later, the air around him started to hum. He stopped playing and the two effects lingered before fading in the correct amount of time. He smiled. “And that is how you twist songs. A good bard can twist two; an amazing bard, four.”

“How ’bout five or six?” Aleron asked. “It works mathematically.”

Jyachin laughed. “A number on paper is easier to get to than a song in real life.”

“Oh.”

“The heroes of the class—legends from long ago—are said to have been able to twist up to six songs, but I think if there was anyone alive currently able to accomplish such a feat, every bard would know.”

“It’s a shame,” Fen said, “that the talent is no longer around.”

“Not really. Based on the songs bards have available and the roles they perform, there isn’t much use in being able to twist more than four, anyway.”

“Then why did they do it in the past?”

“Bragging rights?” Jyachin shrugged. “Or perhaps there were songs that were useful in such a twist but have since been forgotten.”

“At this point, I would be thrilled to successfully twist two.” Isaac shook his head. “You make it look so simple.”

“Practice the drills five hours a day, every day, for the next ten years, and you will make it look simple, too.”

Isaac nodded and got to his feet.

Chapter 31

Kara reached for her phone. “Hello?”

It was her secretary. “There’s a lady on her way in.”

“What?”

“I couldn’t stop her.”

“Who is it?” Her office door opened and a woman entered. Kara felt her mouth go dry. “Never mind. I got it, thanks.” She hung up the phone and stood. “Mrs. Benneman. Good morning.”

The woman did not smile as she walked to the chair across from Kara’s desk and sat. “You can call me Ruth.”

Kara nodded as she fought the urge to open the door and run away as fast as she could. She felt her lip quiver but forced herself to maintain a smile. “Ruth, then. It’s an honour to meet you.”

Ruth Benneman looked around the office, a bored expression on her face. She took her time, noting the pictures on the walls, the furnishings. Her stare finally came to rest on Kara, reminding her of a cobra coiled on a warm stone. “You know who I am?”

Kara cleared her throat. “Yes. Of course. Isaac was very excited when he learned you were one of our major backers. I remember how much it meant—”

“I’m told that Isaac is unavailable.”

“That’s right.”

Ruth blinked slowly. “And you’re in charge.”

Kara nodded.

Ruth stared at her for a long moment. Kara dared not break the silence.

“I’m here to collect my grandson.”

“Um.”

“No.” Ruth raised one eyebrow. “There is no ‘um.’ No excuses, reasons, whatever you want to call them. Only what I said. Bring me. My. Grandson.”

Kara considered her options. She stood. “I’ll take you to him.” She walked to the door and opened it. Two tall, muscular men stood outside the door. Their eyes turned to look at her, but they remained motionless otherwise. She looked back at Ruth Benneman.

The woman sat with her back to the door for the count of ten. Then she stood, turned, and walked through the door. The bodyguards took positions in front of her.

Kara nodded. “If you’ll follow me.”

***

Ruth stared down at her grandson. “Wake him up.”

There was a long moment of silence. The most powerful organized-crime boss in the country looked up and fixed Kara with an icy glare.

“It’s not safe to wake him.”

“Not safe?” Ruth’s eyes closed. “You idiots.”

Kara bit her lip.

“I didn’t believe them when they told me that you’d lost control.” Ruth shook her head. “I should have. The news came from programmers working for you.”

“Mrs. Benneman, I can assure you that your grandson is fine. There’s no danger to him.”

“Then bring him out.”

“When his play ends, he will exit the game safely.”

“But not if you try to pull him out before his play is finished?”

“Likely not.” Kara shook her head. “Doing so presents serious risks at this time. There have been a couple of unsuccessful extractions.”

“Resulting in death.”

“Yes.”

“How many have died coming out after their play ends?”

“None.”

“So far.”

“Yes, but we don’t expect that to change.”

“Some disagree with that assessment.”

“That’s news to me.”

The crime lord snorted. “Pathetic. You’re supposed to be in charge, yet I know more about this mess than you.”

Kara pursed her lips and fought the urge to cry. Ruth shook her head. “You’re out of your element, girl. Isaac did you no favours by leaving you in charge. Take me to his table.”

“His table?”

“Don’t play with me,” Ruth snapped. “I know Isaac has gone into the game. Take me to his table.”

“What are you—”

Ruth’s voice was a whisper, filled with menace. “Now.”

***

They stood over Isaac’s still form. Ruth stared at him for almost a full minute before looking up. She noticed Kara’s fearful expression and scowled. “Calm down. I’m not going to kill him.”

Kara released the breath that she had been holding in for too long.

Ruth’s lip twitched. “I wouldn’t let him go so peacefully.”

Kara remained silent.

“I know that he went in to find Sebastian, but my intel is a few hours behind. Has he managed to do that yet?”

“No, but he will soon.”

“And what does he hope to accomplish from their reunion?”

“Isaac thinks that Sebastian can fix the problems from inside the game.”

Ruth snorted. “None of my people agree with that assessment.”

“His instincts are most often better than everyone else’s,” Kara said.

“I’ll give him that. What about my grandson? How’s he doing in there?”

“Still playing, which puts him ahead of most.”

“He wants to be a professional gamer.” Ruth laughed. “I think it’s stupid, but my son supports him. Worst case, he tries a few things before settling down to come work in the family business. It never hurts to get a bit of outside experience. And who knows. Maybe the boy will actually pull it off. He reminds me so much of his grandfather. Able to accomplish what others can’t.”

“Where can I take you now, Mrs.—Ruth?”

The woman stared at Kara. “You are certain my grandson will be fine if he exits the game naturally?”

“I am.”

Ruth sighed. “Then I will leave. For now.”

Kara fought the urge to laugh with relief. “I will escort you out.”

The woman nodded, and they exited Isaac’s room.

***

When they reached the front door of the building, Ruth Benneman turned and fixed Kara with a dead-eyed stare. “Two things before I leave.”

“Of course.”

“I want my money back. All of it. Today.”

“But that—” Kara’s eyes widened. “That’s not possible at this time, Mrs.—”

“I know that there is enough capital in your accounts to refund me.”

“But that’ll leave us extremely low—”

“You’re saying words that would only interest me if I cared. You’re in charge. Get my cash back to me by end of day.”

Kara opened her mouth to protest, but Ruth’s glare shut her down. She nodded.

“And second.” Ruth slipped one black leather glove over her hand. “If my grandson dies, I will return to collect you.”

“Me?”

“That’s right. You kill him, I kill you. And I promise that you will not go quick or peacefully, dear. So don’t mess this up.”

Chapter 32

Xander followed Mercy into the audience chamber and they came to stand before the Shard, who sat on a large, throne-like chair.

“Grab a seat.” The Shard pointed toward a group of chairs to his right, and they obeyed.

“Is the Scout coming soon or have you asked us here prior to delivering instructions?” Mercy asked.

“The Scout will arrive in a few minutes. The only instruction I have for you is to behave.”

“Of course.”

“You may be tempted not to. There are others with the Scout.” The Shard rubbed his jaw. “Servants of the Light.”

Mercy frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t intended to be.”

“You will allow the cursed Light to enter our holy domain of Darkness?”

“It is necessary and will be brief. They will come straight from the gates to this hall. When the meeting is over, they will leave and remain camped outside the walls.” Mercy shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but the Shard held one hand in the air. “I am not pleased about this, either.”

“Then deny them access.”

“There is no sacrilege in allowing them here.”

“Still, we can meet outside the walls in neutral space.”

“No.”

Mercy sneered. “Do you think they would allow us into their chapter house?”

The Shard laughed. “If the situation was reversed they would have as much to say about it as you and I do now.”

Mercy stood and nodded for Xander to do the same.

“I will not participate in this.” She began to walk toward the doors.

“Get back here.”

She ignored the command and kept walking.

They were halfway to the exit when the doors opened and Kieran entered. Two men and a woman followed. They were dressed in the white and gold garb of followers of the Light.

Mercy froze, one hand moving to rest on her sword hilt. Xander stopped at her side, his hand prepared to draw a magical blade.

“Ahh, there they are. Hello, Mercy.” Kieran’s pace quickened until he reached them. His eyes slid to Xander. “Hello, lad. You’re looking well.” He noticed Xander’s arms and smiled. “What’s this? A grasp? And how did you manage to get it to split into two?”

Xander smiled. “It is two grasps.”

Kieran’s smile faded. “That’s…impressive.” He clapped the young Death Stryker on the shoulder. “Congratulations, man. You become more powerful each time I see you.”

Xander looked past the Scout at the other guests and laughed. “It seems that we keep bumping into each other, Sir Knight.”

The paladin laughed and stepped forward. “Could this be?” he asked. “The same little Death Stryker that I chased through the woods one rainy night so long ago?”

“It is good to see you, Helias.”

The other followers frowned as Helias held his hand toward Xander, and the Death Stryker did the same.

Before they could touch, Helias’s eyes widened and he pulled his hand back with a quick jerk. Xander frowned and looked down at his hand. The grasp had come alive, the midnight swirling and raising up from his skin like a nest of black vipers. He pulled his hand back and the midnight sank back into his arm, still whipping and roiling. “Oops, sorry ’bout that.”

“That was close.” Helias let out a great boom of laughter and shook his head. “What a horrible way for me to go out.”

“I had no idea they would react that way.” Xander shook his head. “Although I guess it does kinda make sense.”

“I can see it now. I die to find myself before my Lord and, rather than extol me for my accomplishments, he hangs his head in shame at my final act of mortal stupidity.”

“For shaking hands with a Death Stryker?” Xander asked.

Helias laughed. “That, and being killed by the evil crawling along your skin.”

“The grasp wouldn’t have killed you.” Mercy’s voice contained a hint of disappointment. “But it would have delivered an unpleasant sting.”

“And likely left a hideous scar.” Helias shook his head. “A small shadow on my otherwise bright and shining soul.”

Kieran laughed. “Were you two leaving?”

Mercy considered the group in front of her for a moment, then shook her head.

“I’m glad,” Kieran said. “Let’s get this meeting done and share a meal. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to since Dryad’s Heart.”

Chapter 33

They sat around the large rectangular table in the Shard’s audience hall. Kieran began the meeting by introducing the followers of Light that he had brought with him. Their leader was a priest named Parthus, the paladin Helias, and his squire, Firth. They sat on one side of the table while Mercy and Xander took the other. The Shard took his seat at the head of the table and the meeting began.

“Kieran, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you,” the Scout said. “Time is up for the New Travellers, or players, as they have taken to calling themselves.” He sniffed and looked around the table. “The majority of them are gathered in a small town isolated from other populated sites. The final few stragglers will trickle into the settlement soon. We expect they will all be together by the time we arrive.”

“Do we have agents among them?” Mercy asked.

Kieran shook his head. “It is my understanding that any players who followed the Light or Darkness have long since perished.” The Shard and Parthus both nodded.

“What about Scouts?” Helias asked.

Kieran smiled and shook his head.

“Which means none of them have been able to level,” the Shard pointed out.

“That won’t mean much,” Parthus snorted. “Almost all of them inhabit younglings, which means they would not be able to amass many levels by now.”

“That’s a bad assumption,” Kieran said. “Most managed to acquire massive amounts of experience. One of my colleagues sat across from a twenty-year-old novice—level 4 at the time, by the way—and realized he had enough experience accumulated to ding level forty-two—”

“What?” the Shard laughed. “That’s impossible.”

The Scout spread his hands. “It was at that point that we decided not to level any more players. Because of that very wise decision, our forces will face an army of around two thousand enemies level fifteen and lower.” He raised one eyebrow. “Instead of a devastating force all in their high to mid-level forties.”

“Could we have defeated a force of that strength?” Firth asked.

Parthus snorted. “Of course, but this will be considerably easier.”

“Our main force,” Kieran continued, “comprises ten thousand.”

“To go against two thousand? That seems excessive,” Mercy said.

“Maybe, but we’re glad for the co-operation,” Kieran said. “When word went out that a final battle against the New Travellers was soon to occur, every race wanted to be part of it. Even the elves sent troops.”

“Considering that the only thing they hate worse than each other is every other race, that is impressive to hear,” the Shard said. “How do we fit into your plans, Master Scout?”

“Divisions from both of your orders will join the ranks of the army, of course, but I would lead a small force ahead of the main.”

“How big do you intend the advance unit to be?” Mercy asked.

“Five.”

Mercy’s eyes narrowed. “Myself, Xander, Helias, his squire, and you?”

“That’s it.”

The Shard frowned. “Surely you mean to include myself and Parthus as well?”

The priest scowled and the Shard grinned, but Kieran shook his head. “Not necessary, but thank you. I think it would be better for you to lead the main unit of Death Strykers and soldiers when the full battle is engaged.”

“As you say,” the Shard said. “What purpose does your small unit serve?”

“We are going to sneak into the enemy camp and remove their leader.” He smiled. “Without him, the rest will be useless. That will make it much easier for our main force to destroy every last player still living in Preu Treya.”

Chapter 34

“Got a minute?” Shale asked.

Sebastian looked up from his book and smiled. “For you? Always.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” She pulled a chair closer and plopped into it.

“Not really,” he winked. “I just have a thing for elf girls.”

She laughed and then stopped. “Sex!”

Sebastian blinked and shook his head once.

She laughed and leaned over to slap his arm. “Sorry, that likely sounded pretty random.”

“I’ll say.”

“What I mean is, sex must work here, too.”

He frowned and she giggled.

“It does, of course it does. But I never got a chance to try it out.”

“Ahh, I see what you’re saying now.” He looked out the window and watched people stroll past in both directions. “This place is filled with good-looking people. Get out and meet one. Or more. Give it a go. Seems all our parts match the ones from back home.”

“Good programming on your part?”

“I tried to keep the small details the same.”

She snickered.

“You know what I meant. My main focus was for players to live the life of a fantasy character.” He shrugged. “I’m certain someone will design a sexual playground in a VR world soon enough.”

“I’m surprised that wasn’t the first VR simulation, now that you mention it.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Fantasy and games. Those are the big draws for nerds.”

“Remember when that term used to be a bad thing?”

He raised one eyebrow. “I do, but you definitely don’t.”

“That’s true.”

“Was that what you wanted to talk about? Virtual reality romance?”

She frowned and then snapped her fingers. “No, it was not. I wanted to chat about your pal.”

“Which one?”

“Isaac.”

Sebastian made a grumbling sound.

“Why do you think he’s here?”

“The game is crashing.”

Shale’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“That’s what Isaac thinks.”

“Is it crashing?”

He spread his hands and looked skyward. “You see any evidence of a crash?”

“No.”

“There ya go, then.”

“Wait a minute.” She shook her head. “I’m only able to see a very small piece of the whole picture. It’s very possible that he’s right and we haven’t heard or seen evidence of it yet.”

“It’s not crashing.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“’Cause…”

“You designed it?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Still, Seb. All this is being run by a computer, right?”

He sighed.

“And computers glitch. Crash. Screw up commands. You know, all that fun stuff.”

He looked down at his book. “You make good points, Shale, but trust me on this one. I am one hundred and ten percent certain that this simulation is in absolutely no danger of crashing.”

He moistened his finger against his tongue and turned the page. Shale sat quietly. After a few minutes he turned the page again. And then again.

“Maybe we’re losing connectivity with our bodies,” Shale said.

Sebastian looked up. “Pardon?”

“The link between our body and this one. What if there’s something wrong with that part of the thing?”

He frowned.

“I’m willing to buy into your supreme confidence that this simulation can’t crash. I don’t know how, but okay, I’ll accept that. Connectivity, though—”

Sebastian held up a hand. “Quiet for a second.”

Shale bit her lip and watched him. His brows furrowed, eyes moving back and forth as if reading the air in front of him.

“Damn it.” He closed the book and stood.

“Where ya going?”

He frowned. “Nowhere, I guess. There’s nowhere to go.”

“Are you saying something like that might be possible?”

He pursed his lips. “Perhaps.”

“Well then, you should definitely check it out.”

“That’s the thing.” He spread his hands. “There is nowhere for me to go to check on something like that.”

Shale frowned. “But. How?” She shook her head. “Shouldn’t you have built that into the program?”

He chewed lightly at his lower lip. “I guess I do need to talk to Isaac.”

Chapter 35

Fen threw a log on the fire and sat on his bedroll.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” Aleron asked.

“Finally.” The warrior smiled as he reached for the bowl of stew sitting beside him. “You’ve been so quiet since joining us that I thought you’d forgotten how to ask questions.”

Aleron laughed. “I guess the Scouts taught me not to ask so many.”

“That’s a shame. Can’t learn anything if you’re not wondering and asking.”

“Kieran disagrees. He says there’s ‘much to be learned from watching.’”

“Sometimes,” Fen shrugged. “But I’ve always been a fan of questions. Key to success, if you ask me.”

“I’m also a bit leery of Isaac. He doesn’t seem too keen about me.”

“He is a bit strange around you. Likely ’cause you’re the only player Scout.”

“Makes sense.” Aleron looked past Fen to where the two bards were practicing night time skills, Jyachin watching as Isaac played a song that created a greenish yellow light. “He said he’s here to talk with Seb.”

“Yeah.”

“It must be pretty serious, for him to come inside the game. If something were to happen to both him and Sebastian—”

“It is pretty serious.”

“What’s the problem?”

Fen scooped a bite of stew and put it in his mouth. He watched Aleron while he chewed. “Good question.”

Aleron laughed. “Does it have something to do with the computer system running everything?”

Fen shook his head. “It’s not a good idea to share information until we’re sure whose side you’re on.”

The young Scout frowned. “What kind of thing is that to say? There’s only one side for me to be on, man. I’m a player.”

“Makes sense.” He shrugged. “But it’s not up to me.”

Aleron took a bite of stew and watched the fire.

“How ’bout yourself? What are you going to Darwin’s Vale for?”

Aleron continued chewing. “They need me.”

“Is that so?”

“They don’t have a Scout to level them up.”

“Damn, that’s likely right.”

“It is.” Aleron loaded another bite of stew onto his spoon. “Kieran sent me to some little crap town to serve as Scout. A few adventurers came through and were talking about a player-controlled settlement that was shunned by Scouts.”

“That’ll slow down their adventuring, for sure.”

“They’re gonna need levels for more than campaigns,” Aleron said. “Won’t be long before the army gets there.”

Fen looked up from his bowl. “Army?”

“That’s right.”

“How big?”

“Big enough to wipe them without much effort.”

***

Aleron finished re-telling Isaac what he knew.

Isaac sat and stared at the fire.

“Does this change anything?” Fen asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“If they wipe—”

“Give me a second.”

No one said another word. Long seconds passed.

Isaac turned to Aleron. “You’re with us, right, kid?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, really with us?”

“Player first and always,” Aleron nodded. “Absolutely, man.”

“Okay, then.” He nodded. “Our plan stays the same. We make our way toward the town.”

“And warn them,” Fen said.

“I’m sure they will have heard by the time we arrive.” Isaac frowned. “You can level everyone there, right, Aleron?”

Aleron nodded.

“How long will that take?”

The Scout considered the question before answering. “Over two thousand players? I’m sure multiple levels.” He sighed. “It’s gonna take me quite a bit of time.”

“Best guess.”

“Two or three weeks.”

“And what about this army?” Isaac closed his eyes and began to envision the various challenges they were facing. “How long will it take them to show up?”

Aleron shook his head. “I have no clue.”

“We need to know.” Isaac opened his eyes. “Jyachin? Can you find the army and report back to us on a time frame?”

“I can try.” The young bard stood. “But first, I’ll run you to the town.”

“When?” Aleron asked.

“Right now. Aleron needs as much time as he can get to do his work. There was no rush before, but now there is.”

Fen stood. “I’ll start packing.”

“Essentials only,” Jyachin said. “None of the camping gear or supplies. Armour, weapons; personal items that you need to keep.”

“But we’ll want supplies for camping—”

Jyachin shook his head. “I’ll kick us into full speed and won’t stop until we get there.”

“But, we are still days away,” Fen said.

“Like I said,” Jyachin grinned. “Full speed. Not something we usually do, but this situation calls for it. I should be able to have us there by morning.”

Chapter 36

“Is something wrong?” Mercy looked up from packing her bag and turned to face Xander.

“No.” He stared at the midnight swirling over his arms. “Why?”

“Because you’re watching them with a strange look on your face. Are they causing you pain?”

Xander frowned and looked up. “Can they do that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Your face says they are, though.”

“No pain.” He laughed. “I’m trying to figure out what to do with them. Xyclotl says that my imagination is my only real limit to what I can create.”

Mercy snorted. “He’s lying. You couldn’t create a large cart or anvil and drop it onto your enemy from the sky.”

Xander laughed. “Like the Green Lantern.”

“Who?”

“A fictional hero from back home.” His smile faded. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Not revealing that I am a New Traveller.”

Mercy snorted. “I’m not inclined to state the obvious. Nor are many others.”

“Really? I don’t think the Shard knows. Or any of the other order members. If they did—”

“I’m certain everyone knows but pretend they don’t.”

Xander frowned. “Do you think so?”

“Of course. Look at what you have become. The talents and gifts you possess. The Dark Lady has obviously chosen to shower favour upon you. We are humble servants of the Darkness, first and last. It is obviously Her decision that you stand at the front of our order. It is our responsibility to honour her decision and support you, regardless of where you come from.”

“It doesn’t feel like I’m being supported. The Shard is not deferring to me or giving me special treatment.”

“He won’t. He plays his own role in the same way that you are expected to play yours. The Shard leads,” she smiled, “and behaves like a jackass.”

“I see.” Xander nodded. “I thought he wanted me to fail.”

“Oh, he does.” Mercy smiled. “Of that you can be certain. But until you do, he will support you. In his way. As will everyone else.”

Xander considered her words.

“We leave tomorrow. Are you prepared?”

“Yes.”

Mercy’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I was wondering something.”

“Ask.”

“It’s not related to our mission.”

She stared at him.

“I don’t think you’ll know the answer.”

“If that is true, then I will say so. Ask.”

“Will our shard imps fight for us?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because they lack the skills necessary. Bravery, strength, skill with weapons.” She shook her head. “A shard imp’s talents lie in other areas. Stealth, healing, and surprise. Shard imps are best used to spy on others, heal our wounds, and deliver messages. That sort of thing.”

“Okay.”

“Since we are on the topic of shard imps, I would offer you a word of advice.” Mercy regarded him for a second and then continued speaking. “Xyclotl is not your friend.”

Xander frowned. “I know that.”

“I’m not sure that you do.”

The young Death Stryker laughed. “He’s an evil little bastard who wants to enslave me.”

“Yes, but they do possess magical charm. Death Strykers are resistant to it for the most part, but over time they can wear us down.”

“I see.”

“Yours seems friendlier than most, which can be to its advantage and your detriment. Over the long run.”

Xander considered the warning.

“You summon it often.”

“No.” He frowned. “Only once or twice a day.”

Mercy laughed. “I was wrong. You summon it way too often.”

“I thought it would be good to get him used to being summoned so that he could learn my will is strong. To condition him.”

“I guarantee you that right now he is thinking the exact same thing about you.”

“That he’s conditioning me?”

She nodded.

“I have this under control.”

“Until you don’t.” She snapped her fingers. “All it takes is a split-second of weakness and he has you. You must be perfect every time, and he is content to wait until you slip up. They are nothing if not patient little beasts. Likely because time means so little to them.”

“The other day he said that every hour the bond must be renewed.”

Mercy sighed.

“I sent him away, figuring he was trying to trick me.”

“You spend that long with it in your presence?”

“Sometimes. I’m learning things that only he can teach me. About the grasps and such.”

“It is correct. Every hour the bond must be renewed in blood.” She stared at him with lips pursed.

He stared back.

“I agree with you. Because it can share knowledge of the grasps, you do require more time with it than most would.”

“Are you going to make me stop summoning him?”

“Much as I would like to, it is forbidden for me to do so.” She shook her head. “I can only advise in this matter. What you do is ultimately your choice.”

“Don’t worry, I’m careful.”

Mercy nodded and returned to packing her bag.

Chapter 37

“Kara?” The secretary’s voice sounded over the wireless earpiece in her ear. “Stanley Jackson wants to come in.”

“Send him in.” She finished typing the sentence on her computer and turned as the door opened.

In walked Stanley Jackson, a fifty-three-year-old, balding man dressed in bright blue jeans and a faded video game T-shirt.

“How’s it going, Stan?”

“Same as the day Seb left me in charge of the system.” He adjusted his glasses and shook his head. “It’s a stomach-twisting, sleep-deprived nightmare, Kara.”

She laughed. “Has Isaac had any luck finding him yet?”

Stanley dropped down into the visitor’s chair. “Likely in the next few hours.”

“That’s good news, right?”

“Not really, although it is super cool to see Isaac and the rest of his small group running at top bard speed across the land. The light and particle effects are better than anything I could have imagined. And they ran across a lake like it was solid ground! Another example of how Sebastian, with his amazing mind, outdid himself creating this reality.”

“That’s great.” She looked at the pile of folders arranged on her desk. “I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news for you on my end of things.”

Stanley groaned. “No. Today has been good so far. You know how rare that is, Kara?”

She retrieved a file and shoved it across the desk. “Take a look at that.”

Stanley opened the file and skimmed the pages. He frowned, slightly at first and then with increasing vigour as time passed. Finally he looked up. “This looks like financial reports of some kind.”

“That’s right.”

“Someone’s personal file?”

“No. It’s ARC’s current balance sheet.”

Stanley’s eyes bulged. He looked back to the pages and flipped to the last one. “You gotta be kidding me?”

“I’m not.”

“But this…” he shook his head as his eyes met hers. “It says we have less than a million dollars in the account.”

She nodded.

“That—” He spluttered. “That’s impossible. There should be hundreds of millions.”

“Investors withdrew their funds.”

“Huh? No way. Their agreements prevent that.”

“The agreements might have, but threats of physical violence convinced me to make exceptions.”

Stanley laughed. “They’re old businessmen, Kara. They bark but would never bite.”

“Ruth Benneman was ready to bite.”

His smile melted and he swallowed. “Did you have to meet with her in person?”

Kara nodded. “After that unpleasant experience, I had to speak with her on the phone another dozen times. She wanted me to return her so-called friends’ money also. Other investors who were afraid to call, so they had her do it. I think they promised her a portion of the money if she was able to get it back for them. And she was more than able.”

Stanley sighed and placed a hand against his bald forehead, audibly drumming his fingers against bare skin. “We can’t operate on this little bit of cash.”

“I know.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“We’re going to have to shut things down.”

“But we can’t. As long as the remaining beta testers are still inside.”

“I’m downsizing everything in hopes that I can keep that part going until they all manage to come out. But if it doesn’t happen soon…”

“There might be good news in that department, at least.”

Kara frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Looks as if there’s a war brewing inside Blades. The NPCs are gathering en masse and heading toward where the players have gathered. The NPCs intend to kill every last player in one big battle, and it looks as if they will have no problem doing so.”

Kara laughed out loud and covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh god. That would be awesome. Absolutely perfect.”

“Of course, Isaac and Sebastian will likely fight back. You know how they hate to lose at anything.”

“But?”

“The numbers are against them for certain.” Stanley shook his head. “It will be a massacre of players, no matter what they do to defend.”

“Which will bring them all safely out of the game. Fingers crossed that this happens, Stanley.”

He smiled. “Yeah. Fingers crossed.”

Chapter 38

Xander navigated his way through the pitch-black halls and entered the library. He shut the door and sat at the large round table in the centre of the room. He sat without moving, and a few seconds later, Xyclotl appeared soundlessly in front of him.

“Told you it was possible to appear without the loud popping noise,” Xander said.

Xyclotl placed a hand against his chest. “Honestly, boss, I wasn’t even aware it happened. Like I told you, I get here after it does.”

Xander raised one eyebrow and held his palm out. The shard imp flew down for his drop of blood. He pierced the flesh and squatted down while the blood welled to the surface. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I can take a couple drops every other time you summon me. That way it’ll save you the constant discomfort.”

Xander pursed his lips and glared down at the tiny creature. When he did not reply, Xyclotl shrugged. “Never mind, then. I was only trying to be considerate.”

“More like find a way to take me down.”

Xyclotl opened his mouth to say something, but then frowned and looked down at the hand he was kneeling on. “What the—”

Xander looked down as well and saw that his hand was entirely black. For a second he was confused, then a quick glance at his forearms confirmed his suspicion. The tendrils of midnight had pooled in his hand. “Strange.”

The glob of blackness surged upward in a cylinder totally surrounding Xyclotl. His wings snapped out to take flight, but it was too late; the tide of midnight crashed down and engulfed the shard imp like an angry ocean wave against a rocky shore.

Seconds passed. Xander stared at his palm, feeling the shard imp’s body struggling madly against his skin but unable to see it beneath the inky blackness.

A minute or so later, the pool dispersed and formed branches of onyx that returned to moving lazily up and down the length of Xander’s arm.

The shard imp flopped onto his back and coughed wetly. His eyes opened. “What in all the hells that are holy and cursed was that about?”

“I have no idea.”

“It was trying to drown me.”

“I don’t think so,” Xander said.

The shard imp brought one hand up to wipe his face and froze. “What the—”

The small hand was encased in a black metal gauntlet.

Xyclotl sat up, the ornate ebony now encasing his body making a musical chiming sound as the pieces clanked at their joints. “I’m wearing armour.”

“And there’s a battle axe strapped to your back,” Xander said.

“Huh?” Xyclotl reached over his shoulder, grasping the haft of the weapon and yanking a tiny double-bladed axe free. He held it out in front of himself, quickly reaching out with his other hand to help keep the weapon from falling and cutting into Xander’s palm. “This is insane.”

“You look like a cute little Death Stryker.”

“I’m wearing armour.”

Xander nodded. “You already said that.”

“A full set of it.”

“Your wings are still free to move.”

Xyclotl looked over his right shoulder, moving one wing so that the tip almost touched his cheek.

“Is it heavy?”

“What?” the shard imp snapped, its face contorting with anger.

“The armour. Is it weighing you down?”

“It doesn’t feel heavy at all. Matter of fact, I think I might feel lighter now than I did when I was almost naked”

“That’s strange.”

Xyclotl laughed. “This is worse than strange, kid! Look at me. I’m dressed like a…like some kind of…”

“Warrior.”

Xyclotl closed his eyes. “Yes.” His head shook from side to side. “Like a warrior.” He fell forward, sinking to his knees and covering his face with one gauntleted hand. “What did you do to me? This is the worst thing to ever happen to one of my kind.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Xyclotl looked up, eyes flashing. “You thought about me being a fighter.”

“No.” Xander paused. “I mean, I asked if something like that was possible, but Mercy assured me that it wasn’t—”

“Imbecile!” Xander groaned. “You absolute moron. I’m finished!”

“Relax. You’re not dying or anything, are you?”

He sprang into the air, rising until he was only a few inches from Xander’s nose. “Worse!” he screamed. “I’m gonna be the laughingstock of the group next time we all get together for drinks. What self-respecting imp is gonna want to sleep with me after they find out I’m dressed like this?”

Chapter 39

Xyclotl stood on the table, arms at his sides, giant battle-axe held in his gauntleted right hand.

Mercy considered the tiny creature with a serious expression on her face. Then her eyebrows rose, and she shrugged. “It’s cute.”

“Cute?” The shard imp’s free hand came up to raise the visor of his helmet, eyes bright with emotion. “I look cute?”

“You do.”

“Ridiculous!” The shard imp pulled the helmet from his head and launched it at her. The piece of armour was a foot away from him when there was a tiny puff of black smoke. A second later, the helmet materialized in Xyclotl’s grip once more. “Gah!” he shouted, and tried to throw the helmet onto the table. Again it flashed and returned to his hand. “I look like a stupid Death Stryker doll.”

“Careful,” Mercy warned.

Xyclotl laughed. “About what? I’m the one who is suffering here.” He raised the axe and pointed it at Xander. “All ’cause of him, I am a joke. To everyone!”

Mercy raised one eyebrow and the corner of her mouth turned upwards. “I don’t think he likes the improvements.”

Xyclotl jammed the helmet back onto his head, snapped the visor closed, and screamed. The sound was muffled but shrill.

“I tried to get rid of it,” Xander said. “But for some reason the midnight won’t return to the grasp.”

“Was it the right arm that it came from?” Mercy asked, and Xander nodded. “Interesting. It’s brighter than the other. Or more dark. I’m not sure which is a better way to describe it, but it is definitely different.”

Xander held his arms up and looked from one arm to the other. “You’re right, it is. I wonder why?”

“Maybe it’s draining it.”

“What?” Xyclotl’s muffled voice asked.

“Taking its power and giving it to you,” Mercy shrugged. “Or keeping the essence for itself.”

The shard imp flew into the air until he was at eye level with Xander. He pushed back the faceplate and glared, mouth curled into an angry sneer. “It better not be draining me, Bub. If it is, I’ll—”

“Die,” Mercy said, smirking as the creature turned to face her.

“That’s not funny.”

“Maybe not, but it could be true.”

Xyclotl raised one fist into the air and wailed.

“Calm down,” Xander said.

“You calm down!” he screamed. “I’m slowly dying, and you two think it’s funny.”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah? Well, she does.”

“Does that surprise you?”

The shard imp paused. “No, I suppose not.”

Xander laughed. “Do you feel weak?”

“Weak?”

“Less strong than before you were…changed.”

Xyclotl considered the question and shook his head. “No. As a matter of fact I feel stronger. Lighter.”

“There ya go, then.” Xander nodded. “I think that you’ve formed some sort of bond.”

“That could be true.”

“You’ve linked with the grasp and it is lending you power.”

Xyclotl stared at him.

“Still want me to find a way to get rid of it, even if it makes you stronger?”

The shard imp pursed his lips and nodded. “Hell yes, I want to get rid of it.”

Chapter 40

Jyachin tapped Isaac on the shoulder and made a circular motion with his hand.

Isaac nodded and spoke to the others as Jyachin’s drumming stopped. “Get ready to slow down, boys.”

Their speed began to lessen until it became a normal jog. The four men came to a stop and Aleron dropped to the ground.

“Not yet.” Fen grabbed the Scout under one arm, lifting and then providing support as they continued to walk slowly. “If you stop walking right away, your muscles will tighten and seize up.”

“That’s fine with me,” Aleron’s speech was slurred. “We’ve been running forever.”

Isaac nodded sympathetically. The bard song removed the biological strain of running endlessly, but the rest of the body was tired from being awake and alert for so long. “You did great, guys. Stay on your feet until we reach town, and then we can sit and rest.”

“And sleep,” Aleron moaned.

“That too.” Isaac smiled and looked toward the lights over the ridge. They crested the rise and saw the edge of town not far away. “Ten minutes and we’re there.”

Aleron groaned and Fen huffed.

“You’re doing great, men.” Jyachin trotted past them, turning to jog backwards as he led the way.

“Show-off,” Aleron muttered.

Jyachin winked. “If it makes you feel any better, this is the farthest distance in the shortest amount of time that I have ever travelled. You boys have the stamina of a bard, which is high praise.”

“I think I passed out two minutes ago,” Fen said.

“Doesn’t matter what you think,” Jyachin laughed. “Your body is still moving, and that’s what counts.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. A guardhouse stood at the edge of town, where the dirt path became a tighter packed road. Two men stood outside the building, pole arms resting on their shoulders.

“Evening, gentlemen,” the shorter of the two said. “Are you coming home or visiting us for the first time?”

“First time,” Isaac said.

The man’s eyes surveyed each of them in turn. “You’re aware of our special population?”

“We are. Three of us are players.” Isaac indicated himself, Fen, and Aleron. “And this is my avatar’s apprentice, Jyachin.”

The shorter man noticed Isaac’s drum and lute bag. “You’re a bard?”

Isaac nodded.

“That’s a nice surprise. You’re the only one to have made it this far.”

“It’s a tough class to play.”

The guard laughed. “That it is. I wiped twice before I threw in the towel and switched to warrior.”

“You ended up with the best class in the long run, friend,” Fen smiled.

The guard laughed. “Head on into town, fellas. There are inns with available rooms still, and a few good taverns to sample. Shops and stores open tomorrow morning at nine, if you need to buy or trade.”

“Thanks.” Isaac nodded.

“It’s a neutral zone in there,” the taller guard said. “Few enough of us players left. No reason to be killing each other.”

“We agree one hundred percent,” Fen said.

“Then welcome to Darwin’s Vale.”

***

Sebastian opened the door. Beyond the shade of the front porch, the sun shone bright. He smiled and stepped forward, allowing warmth and light to touch his face.

“Morning.”

Sebastian opened his eyes and nodded at the two men standing across the street in the shade. “Morning. Looks like a beautiful day.”

“That it does.” One of the men had a leg propped up on a crate, with a lute resting on his knee. He plucked a note and adjusted the tuning peg. The other, younger than the first, sat directly on the porch, his back against the wall so that he faced outwards.

Sebastian felt his eyebrows furrow. “Do we know each other?”

“Might be.” The bard—he was definitely a bard—smiled.

“Yo, Seb. Hope you brought those two pieces of armour and sword with you, like I asked.” The young warrior stood, a familiar grin appearing on his face.

Sebastian took a step forward, and the bard held a hand up. “No knives this time, Seb. It took too much work to find you. I’d like a few minutes of your time before you try and kill me again.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Don’t worry, boys. No knives this time, I promise.” He crossed the street and pulled the warrior into an embrace. “It’s good to see you, Fen, you old dog.” He clapped his friend on the back and released him. Then he turned to consider the bard. “Went for an experienced avatar this time?”

Isaac let the lute hang on its strap and pushed it to rest against his back. He extended his hand. “Thought I might be able to defend myself from you if the next body had a bit more fighting experience.”

Sebastian held both hands in the air for a second to show that he meant no harm, then he stepped forward and gripped his partner’s hand. “I finally realized a couple days ago that if you came in, it must be for a good reason.” He winked. “Plus, I think I got all my anger out, stabbing you the last time.”

Isaac laughed. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Fen said there were problems back home.”

“There are.”

“Let’s get some breakfast, then. I’ll let you buy and tell me all about it.”

Chapter 41

“What do you think of the place so far?”

Aleron nodded as he looked at the buildings to each side of them. “It’s great. With everyone all in the same place it feels substantial. When do you head out on your scouting mission?”

“I’m just getting back, now.”

“How is that even possible? Weren’t you exhausted from the crazy run we made all the way here last night?”

The bard laughed. “I slept for a few hours and then set out. It was better to make a run like that with darkness for cover.”

“I take it you found them?”

Jyachin nodded.

“Are they close?”

“Not at all. It will take them a few weeks to get here once they set out.”

“Once they set out?”

“Three-quarters of the army hasn’t reported in yet.”

Aleron frowned. “You sure? Maybe they split up and are coming in waves.”

“I saw no one along the way, and soldiers confirmed that they are far from ready to head out.”

“You actually spoke to some of them?”

Jyachin smiled. “People love to share information with bards. I played at a couple taverns and let some soldiers buy me a few drinks. Didn’t take long before they were answering every question I asked.”

“Not very tight with their intel.”

“Why would they be? It’s the native races against the players, and I’m not a player. They had nothing to hide.”

“And how’s it looking?”

Jyachin shook his head. “Not good for us. Where’s Isaac?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s find him.”

***

Sebastian took the last bite of food on his plate and leaned back in his chair. He chewed and considered the information Isaac had spent the last two hours sharing with him. Then he swallowed and spread both hands. “Yeah, man. Sounds like there are some serious issues with the computer system back home.”

Isaac frowned and then laughed. “You don’t sound very concerned about it.”

“There’s nothing I can do about any of the things that you mentioned.” Sebastian shrugged. “I’m in here now. Permanently.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I like it here better.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“I didn’t make the decision lightly.”

“You can’t come back.”

Sebastian smiled. “There’s nothing for me in that other world.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t set up some sort of console or station here. An access point that you could put your hands on.”

“What for?”

“So you could access the programming in case anything went wrong.”

“Nothing can go wrong.”

“Haven’t you been listening to me for the last two plus hours?”

“I have. Sure, there are problems, but nothing catastrophic like I was afraid of just before you arrived.”

Isaac sat forward and stared at Sebastian for a long moment, a confused expression on his face. “If the computer outside crashes—fatally shuts down—this entire world disappears.”

Sebastian smiled and reached for his mug. He took a long drink and sighed. “No one lives forever, old pal. I’d take a week in this land over a decade or two in that other crappy reality.”

Isaac shook his head but said nothing.

Sebastian set his mug down. “You did mention one problem that has to be solved. Player bodies dying if you pull them out of the game. That’s a very simple fix from inside.”

Isaac nodded. “Make sure the players die.”

“Which will send them back home, safe and sound.” Sebastian’s eyes flicked past Isaac, and he frowned. “Is that who I think it is?”

Isaac turned. Aleron and Jyachin had entered the restaurant. They saw him and began to make their way to the table.

“Hello, Seb.” Aleron remained standing while Jyachin sat.

“Good to see you again, Aleron,” Sebastian smiled.

“What did we miss?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Boring tech stuff.”

“Tech stuff is never boring.”

Sebastian nodded and stared at the young Scout.

“Something wrong?”

“Maybe.”

“What is it?”

“I’m trying to decide if you’re one of us or reporting back to the Scouts.”

“Isaac had the same reservations.”

“Had?” Sebastian turned to Isaac. “Or has?”

Isaac shrugged. “He said he was a player and loyal to us. Sounded right to me.”

Sebastian chewed lightly at his lower lip.

“You know him better than I do, Seb,” Isaac said. “If you think he’s against us, I trust your gut.”

The man considered Aleron. “Why didn’t you return sooner?”

“They wouldn’t let me. I’ve pretty much been their prisoner all this time.”

“Pretty much?”

“They trained me. Taught me how to be a Scout.” Aleron sighed. “I wasn’t stuck in a prison cell, but they made sure I couldn’t leave.”

“Until they sent you here now?”

Aleron laughed. “That’s not what happened. I was able to gain their trust enough for them to place me in a village in order to practice and grow my abilities.” He smiled. “When I heard about a town filled with players, I saw that as my chance to escape and rejoin Shale.” His brows furrowed. “Shale’s here, right?”

Sebastian nodded.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, man. To play this amazing game with my best friend. I didn’t ask to be special. I never wanted to work for the other side.” He shook his head. “If you want me to leave, I will. But I can be useful to you here.”

“You can level characters now?”

“I can.”

“Well, then.” Sebastian smiled. “Welcome aboard.”

Chapter 42

Kieran pushed open the flap of his tent and stepped into the morning air. He surveyed the camp and made his way towards Ansko, who was sitting at a table finishing a plate of eggs and bacon.

“Morning, Kieran.”

“Ansko.”

“Sleep in?”

“No. I was writing a few letters to be delivered.”

“Ahh.”

Kieran sat on the opposite side of the table and poured himself a coffee from the carafe. “How are the preparations coming?”

“Slower than we would like.”

“No surprise, there.”

Ansko set his fork and knife on the plate and pushed it away. “Every race wants to be part of this.”

“As they should.”

“We can’t wait forever. Which is how long it could take if everyone is left to their own discretion.”

“I know.” Kieran raised the cup to his lips. “Put the word out that whoever is not present soon will be left behind. If anyone misses us, they can catch up or turn around and go home.”

“How soon?”

Kieran stroked his chin. “Fourteen days.”

“Okay. This is pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

“I suppose, although I find myself more nervous than anything.”

“We’ve waited a long time for this moment.”

“Over two hundred years. If this is actually the moment. Feels like it is, but we’ve thought that before, haven’t we?”

“You’re fusing a follower of Light and Darkness?”

“Best to put it all together just in case this is it.”

“From what you’ve told me I think the pair will get along well together. And Xander being a player should help. There isn’t the deep-seated hatred between faiths that two NPCs would have for each other.”

“There is different danger from Xander, though. It’s possible that he will not agree to help us; that his loyalty to the players will be stronger.”

“I think he will help us,” Ansko smiled. “Especially when Xander learns who recently joined the other side.”

“Who?”

***

“You’re kidding me?” Xander asked.

Kieran shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Isaac Chase is here?”

“In Darwin’s Vale.” The Scout raised one eyebrow. “You don’t like him very much?”

“That’s an understatement. He tried to kill me.”

“Really?”

“Or maybe worse. I was supposed to get an orientation before entering this world. Instead, he made sure to send me in without a single tutorial. I think he wanted me to fail and stacked the deck against me.”

“What makes you so sure he did that?”

“I was a professional gamer back home. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I’m sure someone paid Isaac to send me in here without any help. Maybe strand me here so I couldn’t get back to my body. Isaac’s responsible for that.”

“Do you hate him enough to help our side instead of the players?”

Xander’s icy eye socket flashed with anger, and his mouth curled into a snarl. “Absolutely.”

Chapter 43

Jerry approached Kara and sat.

She pushed a drink across the table and raised her own glass in a toast before taking a sip.

“We celebrating?” he asked.

“You are.” Kara looked at her drink. “The demise of ARC Gaming. You seemed keen on that happening.” She raised the drink to her lips again. “And it is.”

Jerry frowned.

“Drink up, pal. Happy times.”

“Jesus, Kara.” He reached for the glass, raised it to his mouth, and downed the contents in one gulp. Then he set it on the table with a thunk, caught the waiter’s attention, and held up two fingers. The waiter nodded and moved toward the bar. “How bad is it?”

“Past the point of no return. We’ll have to shut it all down fifteen days from now. Maybe we can keep it going for another two or three more, but that’s about it.”

The waiter arrived and placed the drinks on the table. “Thanks, man.” Jerry handed over his credit card. “Can ya bring us two more and then another pair every twenty minutes till I tell you to stop?”

“Sure thing, sir.” The waiter smiled.

“Jerry.”

“Sure thing, Jerry.”

Jerry pushed one of the glasses across the table and raised his own. “Drink up, girl.”

She downed her first drink and reached for the second. “Buying rounds till we pass out? You’re happier about this than I would have guessed.”

“I’m not happy at all.” He took a sip of whiskey and shook his head. “How much will ARC stock be worth in two weeks? After Blades VR fails.”

“Nothing.”

“And I can’t begin to sell my shares for another three, maybe four months.”

“None of us can.”

“I had over a million bucks in stock, Kara.” She frowned and he nodded. “There goes my retirement. ARC going out of business ruins me.”

“Damn, Jerry.”

He took a sip of whiskey and swallowed. “I don’t hate you, Kara. Sure, I wasn’t thrilled when Isaac left you in charge, but I didn’t want you to fail.” She shook her head and he nodded. “I know I wasn’t very nice to you, but that was to motivate you.” He smiled. “Works on my sales people. Tell them they can’t do it—that they’re gonna fail—and they do whatever it takes to prove me wrong.”

“All the time?”

“Mostly. Especially with the good ones.”

“Guess I wasn’t one of those.”

“You had some bad luck is all.”

“It’s too late to be nice, Jerry.”

He laughed. “It’s never too late for that.”

She looked at the table, shoulders sagging. “I couldn’t keep the major investors from cashing in.”

“Ruth Benneman.”

“I should have stood up to her.”

“And died? Or worse? I always had a bad feeling about Isaac taking mobster money. Those chickens were bound to come home to roost at the worst possible moment.” He twirled his glass between both hands. “Any chance we can raise enough capital to stay afloat? Or at least give us more time?”

“I’ve tried. Everyone I know has tried. Wait a minute. Any chance you know someone?”

“I know people who have the funds.” He thought about it for a few seconds and then shook his head. “But I wouldn’t ask them to come into this. Can’t drag any of my friends down the drain with us.”

“It’s not dragging them down. With a bit of capital we could keep moving forwar—”

“We can pull players out safely, then?”

Kara pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Then we’re not in a good spot. You’re telling me that less than a month from now, over two thousand wealthy kids, and a few business leaders, are all going to die.”

“As it stands.” She nodded.

“Damn.” Jerry finished his drink and pushed the empty glass away. The waiter arrived with two fresh drinks. “Perfect timing.” He emptied one glass and held on to the second.

Kara raised one eyebrow.

“Yours is still full. I’ll help you with this round, but you need to catch up for the next one.”

The two sat quietly for a time.

Jerry frowned. “Can’t they slit their own throats?”

“They could, but why would they do that?”

“So they can exit and save their lives out here.”

“They don’t know the danger.”

“Isaac is inside. He hasn’t told them yet?”

“He found Sebastian, and they’ve been talking. You’re right. Killing themselves would be the best way to go.”

“Then why haven’t they?”

“Isaac doesn’t know how little time remains.” Ice cubes in her glass clinked together as she took a drink. “I’m pretty sure that he does have an exit strategy, but I think he’s making it part of the game. One last chance to impress the beta testers. They are gathering for a big battle.”

“How big?”

“A massive raid.”

“Dungeon boss or something?”

She shook her head. “The remaining players have gathered to form a single force. The NPC races are also combining.”

“An all-out war between the two, then?”

Kara nodded.

“Do they have enough time to reach each other and fight?”

“If everything goes as planned, they should face off two weeks from today.”

“Well, then,” Jerry raised his glass. “Here’s hoping that we get lucky and they have their epic raid-style battle. Fingers crossed that they manage to wipe before we run out of cash and have to unplug their bodies.”

Chapter 44

Sebastian stepped onto the stage and looked out at the crowd. The entire town had turned out to listen to him speak. Over two thousand adventurers stood shoulder to shoulder and far down the street. “Will everyone be able to hear me?” he asked.

Ezref smiled as he removed components from the pouches of his belt. “Once I cast the amplify spell. I could make it so the enemy army could hear you, wherever they happen to be.”

“A few hundred meters should do the trick.”

Ezref nodded. “You’re right, that will be a good enough range to reach past the listeners in back, but not by too much.” He began to craft the spell, hands moving as he spoke the words of magic. He finished and stepped back. “There you are. Careful not to scream, or you’ll blow the eardrums out of people in the first few rows.”

Sebastian nodded and took a step forward. “Hello?” He spoke as he would to someone standing directly in front of him for a personal conversation. “Can everyone hear me?”

The crowd quieted, and all heads turned toward the stage.

“In the back?” Sebastian looked to the men and women standing off in the distance. “You hearing me okay?”

There were muffled shouts of acknowledgement and thumbs-up signs. Sebastian smiled. “Perfect. Let’s get this started, then.”

He cleared his throat and began to speak. “As many of you know, my name is Sebastian. I’m the guy responsible for your visit to the land of Preu Treya.”

The crowd applauded. Sebastian raised a hand and nodded as shouts of support and thanks filled the air. A few seconds passed and applause died down.

“Thank you. I’m glad that you’re enjoying this world as much as I hoped you would. A few days ago, my business partner,” he paused, “and lifelong friend, Isaac, appeared in town. Isaac, step on up here for a second, so everyone can put a face to the name.”

Again the crowd cheered and applauded loudly as Isaac came onto the stage and waved. Isaac moved to stand beside Sebastian.

“Isaac wasn’t supposed to come to this reality,” Sebastian said. “Not during this beta test, anyway.”

“Then what’s he doing here?” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Before I answer that,” Sebastian continued, “I’d like to remind you all of the roles we play. Together, Isaac and I come up with the ideas and decide if they are worth trying. Once we agree that a project will move forward, I go to work and design it, while Isaac does the public relations, raises capital, and hypes it all to the public.” Sebastian shrugged. “I create the product and he gets the glory.”

There were boos and cries of “No way, Sebastian!” from the crowd, but Sebastian shook his head and waved a hand. “Don’t be like that. It’s a perfect setup. I don’t care for the accolades. All I ever wanted to do was make something awesome. And that’s what I am good at. But, without the hype and publicity, no one would want to try my creations for themselves. I’m thrilled to let Isaac take the spotlight.” He looked at Isaac and smiled. “We’ve always been a great team. Neither of us could have succeeded without the other.”

Sebastian paused and looked out at the crowd. “Why am I telling you this? To reassure you. To let you know that when it comes to technical knowledge, it’s my opinion that matters.” He smiled. “Isaac came into the game because he was afraid the computer system was crashing, and panicked.”

There were pockets of nervous laughter. Sebastian smiled. “That’s right. The non-tech guy panicked and came to check with me. I am happy to assure you all that he was wrong. Let me be clear. The computer simulation that we are all in is not about to crash or fail.”

He watched expressions of relief appear on faces. “I’m glad that he did find me, though, because there is one tiny issue that should not be happening with the game, but is. I designed the simulation so that players could be disconnected at any time. It was intended to be a safe process, but there’s been a bit of a partial glitch. The only way to get out of here without danger to your real body is to die inside the sim.”

The crowd was silent, many expressions conveyed confusion.

“If I were to stab Isaac right now, he would exit the game and wake up in his real body. No problem.” Sebastian looked at Isaac, who raised one eyebrow but smiled and nodded. “But if Isaac gets back to his body and tries to pull me out by shutting off my monitors or terminating my connection to the server, then I am in trouble.”

“How much trouble?” Someone asked.

“Enough that we don’t want it to happen,” Sebastian said.

“So,” A woman raised her hand a few rows back from the stage, “beta testing lasts as long as we can manage to stay alive inside the simulation?”

“If your avatar does not die, then yes.”

Again, people cheered. Sebastian waited until it died down. “Thing is, while theoretically that might seem good, it really isn’t. This is beta testing, people. You’ve all played enough games to know that beta testing can’t last a long time. Why? First, because there are bound to be bugs and issues with the system. The longer this goes on, the less stable it becomes. The trick is to end the beta test before the system is stressed and crashes. Normally, that’s important, but with this game, it’s crucial. Because your lives depend on it.”

Sebastian felt the energy coming off the crowd become more subdued. “Plus,” he smiled. “beta testing has limited features. The sooner we get out of this, the sooner I can load the entire game and make it live. Which, I can assure you, is even better than what you’re experiencing now.”

There was more applause. “If we are all agreeing to exit the game,” he said, “which it sounds as if we are, then quickest way to accomplish that is to kill our avatar selves.” Players booed the suggestion, and he raised one hand. “There is another option, though, and I think it’s a much better way to go out. The NPC races are gathering to attack us, and the army that will soon be marching up to our gates is epic. Engaging in this battle is a guaranteed wipe, but since I’ve convinced you that it’s time to head back to the real world anyway, why don’t we do it in style?”

He walked back and forth across the stage, swaggering like an evangelist before his congregation. “We’ve all adventured. Campaigned in some amazing instances. But now a world event is coming toward us. I say we step up and fight. This will be the first Raid-sized encounter in Blades VR. I say that we make it a memorable one.” He smiled. “Is anyone with me?”

The crowd responded with a thunderous roar. Sebastian laughed and looked out over the mass of charged players. There was no doubt in his mind that they were ready for a fight, and prepared to give their lives to win it.

Chapter 45

Xander paused midway through his sword drill and turned as the sound of metal striking metal reached his ears from somewhere nearby. He followed the noises until he came upon the paladin and his squire sparring with blades in a small clearing. He watched them until Firth noticed his presence and stepped back, lowering his weapon.

“Good morning,” Helias lowered his own blade, his characteristic good-natured smile present despite the early hour.

“Morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to halt your lesson.”

“Firth’s expression tells me that he was concerned that you’d be approaching to attack.”

Firth grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. “Old habits.”

Helias laughed. “It’s so cute when grownup words come out of the mouths of children.”

Xander smiled.

“I’ve told the lad that we are under a truce, but he is a natural when it comes to mistrusting enemies of our Lord.” He nodded toward Xander. “Those are magnificent blades you wield.”

“Thanks.” Xander sheathed the swords, shoving the midnight steel into his arms, where it liquefied and became one with the animated, tattoo-like patterns.

“Yeah, that part,” Helias’s eyes widened, “is fantastic.”

Xander grinned. “It is kind of cool, isn’t it?”

The paladin laughed and nudged Firth. “Any chance you might draw them again? So the lad can see.”

“The lad.” Xander laughed. “Sure.” Instead of the longswords, he drew forth a large broadsword.

“Where are the other blades?” Firth asked.

“I can form whatever type of weapon I choose.”

“Truly?” Helias walked closer, obviously intrigued.

“I can do this as well.” Xander waved a hand and his black shirt turned to liquid, exposing his bare upper torso as it flowed back onto his arms.

“Wow.” Helias shook his head. “Amazing.” His smile disappeared and he looked at Firth. “Careful when you’re around this one, boy. That stuff hates the light and will sting us if we touch him. Or worse.”

“Is that true?” Firth asked Xander.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t know until it happened.” He grinned. “Want to find out together?”

Firth’s smile faded, and his complexion paled. Helias laughed. “He’s joking, Firth. Maybe not about the uncertainty, but surely about his eagerness to cause you harm.”

Xander nodded. “We are all on the same side, right?”

“Aye,” Helias said. He hefted his own sword and held it in front of them. The steel was so polished that it gave off a liquid silver appearance.

Xander spied yellow and orange flames dancing along its edges, similar to his own weapon’s silvered energy. “It looks as if your weapon is of exceptional quality as well.”

Helias nodded.

“I wonder if our weapons would harm each other, should they touch.”

“I would guess each is powerful enough with its own magic to remain unharmed,” the paladin said. “Still, if we spar, it is better for us to use sparring blades, just to be safe.”

“I doubt we will ever spar,” Xander said.

“Why not?”

“You are more experienced than I.”

Helias laughed and shook his head. “That may have once been the case, but no longer. Since we first met, I have spent my days sitting in a castle and training younglings. You, on the other hand, have been out adventuring and gaining levels. I am certain that we are more closely matched at this point. If we weren’t, the Scout would not have selected us.”

“To travel together?”

Helias frowned. “You don’t know?”

“I guess not.”

“The two of us are to be fused.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“The powers of Light and Dark are both formidable in their own right. But if a weapon of the Light pairs with a weapon of Dark, the resulting force is formidable.”

“And rare?”

“Extremely.” Helias nodded. “Like mixing fire and ice and getting a diamond. It’s not even possible under normal circumstances.”

“And that is what they mean to do with our blades?”

Helias shook his head. “No, that is what they mean to do with us.”

Xander frowned. “I’m still not sure what you mean. They want to make us into one being?”

“No, but they mean to link us in some way. Through a psychic bond, is my guess.”

“And how do they accomplish that?”

“The Scouts have a way. They’ve done it before. Decades ago.”

“Why?”

“Again, I don’t know. But Kieran has said that he’s going to try it again. With you and me.”

“Sounds interesting.”

Helias smiled. “You are welcome to watch us train, but we must get back to it. Firth is already very proficient at standing around doing nothing. It is his weapon skills that need more practice.”

“Another time.” Xander turned. “I have more training of my own to attend to.”

“See you at breakfast, then.” Helias raised his sword and turned to face Firth. “Let’s go again, shall we, young warrior?”

Chapter 46

The door opened and the rogue stepped onto the street. Aleron stood in the doorway and watched him go. Then he turned and nodded at the next player waiting in line at the side of the house.

The crafter stepped forward, but Sebastian appeared from around the corner and called out. “Sorry, hon, I need to steal him for a few minutes.”

The crafter pursed her lips, but nodded and stepped back into the front of the line. Sebastian entered the room, and Aleron closed the door behind them. “Sorry to butt in line like that.”

Aleron shook his head. “It’s fine. I could use a break, anyway.”

“You look exhausted.”

“Exhausted was a few hours ago.” He slumped down onto the couch, swung his legs up onto the armrest, and closed his eyes.

“You still have lots of time before the army arrives.” Sebastian walked to the table, lifted the teapot, and poured some tea into a cup.

“I don’t think I do,” Aleron groaned. “Some of these people have twenty or thirty levels banked. Unlocking each level requires a specific amount of time and energy on my part. Most of them will have to come back five or six times, because their bodies and minds can’t handle the stress of being raised that many levels in one shot. As the Scout levelling them, I have to experience a part of the same physical stress with each level.” He opened his eyes as Sebastian tapped his leg, and sat up to accept the cup of tea. “Not a lot of stress each time, but enough that it does build up and starts to overwhelm me, too.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Sebastian sat in the chair beside the couch. “I think I can help.”

Aleron shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do to ease the burden. Unless you’ve brought a few more Scouts to assist me?”

“In a way, I think that I might have.” Sebastian reached into his pocket and withdrew a fiery orange gemstone the size and shape of a golf ball. It flashed and sparkled, even in the dim light cast by the fire from the far side of the room. “This is a gift from Bramell. A loan, actually. He wants it back when you’re finished. Said it might be the most precious item that’s ever passed through his hands.”

“That’s quite the claim, coming from the Farmer King.”

“Indeed.”

“What does it do?”

“Apparently, many things. Most of the magic it can do is still unknown, but some has been figured out over time.” Sebastian held it toward Aleron.

The Scout accepted the stone and let it rest on his palm. “It’s warm.”

“It can shield you from lighting, fire, ice, and poison spells.”

“Wow.”

“Astral projection twice per day. If you learn the steps to safely perform the ritual, that is. That ability requires specialized knowledge so that it is not activated by the uninitiated.”

“Makes sense,” Aleron said.

“It can bring dragons back to life,” Sebastian continued. “If they have been dead for less than a week and their heart has not been removed.”

“Isn’t the first thing to do when you kill a dragon to remove its heart?”

“Dragon Slaying 101,” Sebastian nodded. “Which renders that spell fairly useless most of the time. But if you are friends with a dragon and it should die, you have a way to bring it back to life.”

Aleron snorted. “I’m not hearing spells or functions that would explain why Bramell is lending it to me.”

“It amplifies a Scout’s power, and helps them recover from stresses experienced during the levelling ceremony.”

Aleron sat forward. “Whoah.”

Sebastian laughed. “That got your attention.”

“You’re saying this will allow me to level players without feeling as much pain?”

“Yes.”

“And help me recover from the energy I use to do the ceremony?”

“Correct. It also helps the levelling process finish quicker. About one-quarter speed faster.”

“Sold.”

Sebastian laughed. “It’s not for sale, but he said you are welcome to use it until your work here is done.”

Aleron considered the stone and took a deep breath. “I think I’m gonna cry.”

“From relief?”

The Scout nodded.

Sebastian patted the Scout on the shoulder. “I’m glad he had something that could help you.”

“I was never gonna get it done.”

“But you were doing your best.”

“I was.”

Sebastian stood. “That’s all we can do.” He walked to the door.

“Wait. How do I activate it?”

“Put it in your pocket and do your thing.”

“That’s it?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Sounds pretty simple.”

“That’s the idea, kid. To make things more simple for you.”

Aleron laughed. “Tell Bramell I said thanks.”

Sebastian opened the door. “Tell him yourself. He’s coming to get a few levels himself soon.”

“Let him know he is allowed to cut to the front of the line.”

Sebastian winked. “I’m sure he will appreciate the special treatment.”

Chapter 47

Xander opened his eyes, sat up, and got out of bed. He looked around and frowned, wondering what had happened to the campfire. It looked like he was somehow back in the keep, except the room he was in did not look familiar.

Midnight flowed from his arms, delivering what was now a familiar tingling sensation as a thin black shirt and pants materialized over his body. He finished the outfit by creating hunting-style boots. Then he walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into…

A room filled with bright, golden light.

Xander squinted and raised one arm to shield his eyes from the painful rays that seemed to shine from both everywhere and nowhere at once.

“Too bright?” a smooth baritone voice asked. “How’s this?”

The light dimmed. Xander lowered his arm and saw a dais made from pure white bricks in front of him. Atop the dais was a throne made from what looked to be gold and ivory. A man with blond hair and tanned skin sat on the throne, garbed entirely in white.

“I can see why she likes you.” The man’s smile was warm and gave Xander the impression that he truly cared about him. “You’re definitely her type.”

Xander frowned but did not speak. The man watched him for a long moment and then chuckled. “Greetings, Death Stryker. I am the Lord of Light. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Xander licked his lips, some part of him feeling the urge to kneel while another screamed not to embarrass his goddess by doing such a thing.

“It’s fine, I don’t expect you to kneel.” The Lord’s smile widened. “Although some basic courtesy would be nice to see.”

Xander nodded. “I am Xander. It is…interesting to meet you.”

“You’re allowed to call me Lord. I would expect followers of the Light to address my sister as Lady, should they ever be so unfortunate as to find themselves in her presence.”

“Yes. Lord.”

“There you go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Xander frowned.

“What’s the problem, Xander?”

“You seem too…”

“Happy?”

“That,” Xander nodded, “and informal.”

The Lord of Light laughed. “Joy and happiness is associated with the light, is it not? Unlike your mistress, I don’t feel the need to always be cruel and brooding. It gets wearisome, if you ask me. And predictable, which I find unnecessary. As for my relaxed manner,” he shrugged, “I know that I’m a god. You know it. It is never a mystery to any who meet me. That being the case, I don’t see the need to walk around being supreme and formal. It’s not my style.”

“I see. If I may ask a question, Lord?”

“Of course.”

“Why am I here?”

The god stood and descended the steps. As he approached, Xander felt a growing sense of warmth that increased with each step the god took. Xander squinted and fought the urge to raise his arm again.

“Here.” The intense feeling lessened and the Lord made a tsking sound. “You’re a sensitive one, even for a follower of the Dark.”

“My Lady says as much when I am in her presence.”

“Good to know, although not important enough to remember.” The Lord’s laughter was light and playful. “If it gets too intense, feel free to ask me to turn it down.”

“That is kind. Thank you.”

“What can I say? I’m a kind deity.” He looked Xander up and down, frowning as he noticed the Death Stryker’s arms. “She gifted you two grasps? I’d heard that was the case, but couldn’t imagine she would be so frivolous. And out came your eye, huh? It’s a shame that being her favourite means pain and torture, doesn’t it?” He leaned closer to Xander. “You understand that she’s barely begun with the pain, don’t you, boy?”

Xander nodded, and the god sighed. “I don’t know why anyone chooses to follow her. Pain and suffering accumulate in a person’s life all on their own. Why invite more into existence? Ah well, maybe you can’t comprehend serving the Light. Joy and pleasure are not for everyone, I suppose.”

The Lord walked slowly around Xander, circling once and then a second time before stopping in front of him. “You asked why you are here, and I shall answer your question. First, you are here to see if you can be in my presence without being burnt to a crisp.” He smiled. “It looks as if the answer to that question is yes.”

Xander nodded, running his tongue over dry lips in an attempt to moisten them.

“Secondly, you are here to receive a gift.”

“A gift? From you?” The god raised one eyebrow as if waiting for something. “Lord?” Xander added the honorific to his question.

“Yes, from me.”

“I don’t think I should accept.”

“Why not?”

“You‘re the god of Light. I follow the Dark…”

The Lord of Light tilted his head back and laughed loudly. He stopped and shook his head. “Look kid, I’m very powerful. If I want to give you a gift, then you get a gift. Light, dark, sweet, sour, hot, cold.” He waved a hand. “None of that matters.” His smile faded and brows turned downward. “Now, if you’re saying that you are refusing a gift from me, that’s something which can happen.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea to do so, but that choice is ultimately up to you.”

“No, no.” Xander’s eyes widened. “I have no intention of refusing a gift from you.”

“You sure? ’Cause we’re ten minutes longer into this whole thing than I expected to be. Kinda feels as if you’re refusing.”

“Not at all.”

“Considering refusing?”

“No, sir.” Xander’s head continued to shake from side to side. “There will be no words of refusal coming from me.”

The god nodded, a half-smile on his face as he watched Xander squirm. After a moment, the Lord of Light raised a closed fist and held it between them at eye level. His fingers unfurled to reveal a small gem floating an inch or so above his palm. Xander squinted his eyes so that they barely remained open.

“Yeah, it’s a bright little thing,” the Lord said. “Can’t turn this one down, though. What ya see is what ya get.”

“What does it do?”

The god frowned. “It’s doing it. The thing shines. Brightly.”

“And this is your gift to me?”

“Still thinking of rejecting it?”

“No. I never was.” Xander shook his head. “Thank you, Lord. I accept your generous gift.”

“Excellent.” The Lord of Light caught the gem in his hand, then slapped Xander in the chest.

The Death Stryker felt the gem touch his skin and burn as it sank into his flesh. He could hear a hissing, feel his skin sizzling. He opened his mouth and screamed.

“Yeah,” the god winked at him as he continued to press hard against the young man’s chest. “It’s gonna sting a bit. My gifts hurt a bit, like my sister’s do sometimes.”

The pain grew until it was so intense that Xander passed out. He felt himself dropping to the ground, unconsciousness sweeping in to claim him.

And then the sensation passed. He opened his eyes and found himself once again lying in the darkness beside the dark red and orange embers of a campfire.

“What’s the matter?” Mercy’s voice.

“Nothing.” He felt out of breath.

“Are you sure? You screamed and then sat up.”

“It was nothing. I’m fine.”

He waited for a reply, but the only sound was the rustling of covers.

Xander turned so that his back was to the fire and Mercy. He felt a throbbing hotness in his chest. Slowly, he pulled the cloth of his shirt open.

Buried under a few layers of skin, the gem the Lord of Light had given him blazed like a star of pure white light.

Chapter 48

“Mind if I join you?”

Sebastian smiled and moved over to make room on the park bench. “Be my guest.”

Isaac unslung his instrument case and set it on the ground, then took a seat and crossed one leg over the other. He looked out over the tiny patch of grass that someone had planted in the corner of town and deemed to call a park. “Seems strange. A park with no pigeons.”

“It does,” Sebastian said. “They are in Preu Treya, though. Pigeons, I mean.”

“Just not here.”

“Guess not.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes.

“Did you find any good deals from Bramell?” Sebastian asked.

“I certainly did. He had an extremely powerful flute and lyre. The lyre extends effects of all songs played by an additional ten seconds, and the flute can create auras normally only played by drums.”

“Wow, that’s very interesting.”

“Yeah.” Isaac sank down a bit and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Not sure why I bothered to get them. I doubt I’ll be very useful in the battle to come.”

“We have no other bards, except for your apprentice.”

“That’s true. I’m not skilled enough to consistently twist songs, but a good healing aura or attack boost could be helpful.”

“I’m sure that you’ll contribute more to the battle than I will,” Sebastian said.

“What is it that you do, anyway? I thought you were a crafter.”

“That was the plan, except it didn’t work out so well.” Sebastian shared the successes and failures that he had experienced along the way.

“Strange.” Isaac scratched his chin. “You have power sometimes, and when you do, it’s off the charts.”

“Sometimes it’s too generous. I’ve had it once or twice.”

“And no one has been able to help you figure out why it comes or goes?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, buddy. I know how much you were looking forward to being a powerful wizard.”

“I’ve tried to be good-natured about it.” Sebastian shook his head. “But inside I want to scream till I lose my voice. This place was everything I ever dreamed of as a kid. Then I finally get here and can’t be the one thing I wanted more than anyone else.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s irony.”

Sebastian laughed. “We are both extremely smart and powerful men, yet neither of us will ever be one hundred percent certain if something is irony. Sad.”

“I’d like to keep that a secret,” Isaac grinned.

“Same.”

They sat without speaking for a few seconds.

“Was that last part irony, then?” Isaac asked.

Sebastian laughed loudly and shook his head.

Isaac grinned. “It’s good to see you again, pal.”

“Same here.”

Isaac slapped his friend’s knee. “Cheer up. Maybe you’ll get lucky and your power will kick in again, before things are over.”

“Fingers crossed, old buddy.”

“Damn straight.”

Chapter 49

After four days on the road, the group had fallen into a comfortable routine. The warriors woke before sunrise, breaking their fast with dried trail mix as they moved off to perform their morning exercises and drills. Since they were following the river, the men bathed after completing training, and Mercy went after they returned to camp. Kieran enjoyed cooking breakfast, which was ready after all had finished with their morning rituals. Everyone helped clean up, and then the group broke camp and were travelling no more than two hours after the sun had risen.

The routine of the fifth morning—the morning after Xander’s meeting with the Lord of Light—went a bit differently.

Xander came to the river’s edge and sat. Firth and Helias were already waist deep in the water, their backs to the Death Stryker as they washed.

Firth noticed Xander sitting on the riverbank. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“Cooling off a bit, first,” Xander replied.

A few minutes passed and Firth frowned. He said something to Helias that Xander couldn’t hear over the rush of the current. Helias looked over his shoulder and frowned. “What’s the matter, Xander?”

“Nothing.”

“Then get in and wash off. Mercy will not be pleased if we make her wait for her morning bath. I think it’s one of the few things she looks forward to while on the road with us.”

Xander laughed but did not reply. Helias watched him for a few seconds, then shrugged and returned to his task. Xander’s eyes widened a few minutes later when the paladin and his squire turned and started walking towards the bank.

A small cloud of blackness emanated from a spot on Helias’s chest, in exactly the same spot where light shone from Xander’s.

Helias saw the Death Stryker’s expression and laughed. He stepped onto the bank and reached for a towel. “Does my new mark surprise you?”

Xander raised his own shirt to reveal the gem of light. Helias’s grin widened, and he shook his head. “You met him?”

“Last night. You met her?”

“Indeed, I did.” He wrapped a second towel around his waist and slapped Xander on the back. “I almost couldn’t move, that’s how stunningly beautiful she is.”

“Yeah.”

“See you back at camp.” The two walked away and Xander began to remove his clothes.

***

When he returned to camp, Mercy was sitting on a log and watching him. The others were gathered around the fire.

“Let’s see it,” she said. Xander sighed and removed his shirt, watching her scowl as he revealed the blazing jewel in his chest.

“Isn’t it spectacular?” Helias was smiling.

“Yours is spectacular.”

Helias laughed.

Her lips pursed as she stared at the mark on Xander’s chest. “This one is disgusting.” She considered him for another long moment and then shook her head. “The best word to describe each of them is misplaced. It seems as if the gods are having some fun with you boys and putting powerful artifacts into the wrong bodies.” She turned away. “Cover that up.”

Xander began to pull his shirt back on.

“Why don’t you make a shirt from the grasp like you usually do?” Helias asked.

Xander laughed and a thin layer of midnight crept over his torso to form a shirt. As the liquid darkness got close to the gem in his chest, it stopped moving. The result was a shirt with a perfectly round hole, an inch away from the gem on all sides. “This is why.”

“I like it,” Firth said.

“Aye,” Helias nodded. “The light contrasts nice with the surrounding black.”

“This is not a fashion show,” Mercy snapped.

Xander put the shirt on, and the midnight flowed back to his arms.

“We must figure out how to remove them,” Mercy said. “Perhaps a priest will be able to assist.”

“No.”

All heads turned toward Kieran. His eyes were on the cast-iron frying pan as he turned a piece of crispy bacon. “Everything is as it should be.”

“That can’t be true,” Mercy said. “Surely even you can see—”

“The gems designate their approval.” He glanced at the warriors and then back to the pan. “Each god has met both of the candidates and deemed them each acceptable.”

“For what?” She asked.

“The fusion.”

Mercy sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Again with the fusion.”

“That’s right.” Kieran flipped another piece of bacon with his knife.

“The lore mentions nothing of this ceremony or alliance. For thousands of years, Light and Dark have remained separate.”

“There is lore.”

“Seventy years and younger.” She scoffed. “History which the living can still remember is not considered to be lore. And this entire experiment was started by the Scouts. It is not sanctioned by the orders.”

Kieran grinned. “It is by your gods, though.”

Mercy scowled as she snatched her towels from the ground and stood. “It’s been attempted multiple times and has never worked.”

“It works,” Kieran said. “It just doesn’t seem to last for long.”

Xander frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“He means that the fused eventually go mad and kill each other.”

Helias frowned. “I’ve read about the process and seen no mention of that.”

Mercy snorted and began to walk away. “Because the Scouts leave that part out of the written accounts. I’m going to bathe.” The three fighters watched her storm off.

Helias looked at Xander and raised one eyebrow. “Sounds a bit risky.”

“The two of you will be fine.” Kieran removed the pan from the fire. “We’ve learned a lot from past trials. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing?” Helias asked.

“Well,” Kieran grinned, “very little. Which is almost the same as nothing. Now, who’s hungry?”

Chapter 50

Sebastian looked up as the bell attached to the door rang. He smiled and waited for Bramell to join him.

“Found ya.” Bramell threw one leg over the chair—an impressive feat for a dwarf—and sat.

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“I know, you’re busy.”

“Lots to do. You know, with an army marching towards us and all.”

Bramell smiled. “Did you give Aleron the stone?”

“I did. He was beyond thankful.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It should help.”

“I’m positive that it will.”

Bramell ran one hand through his hair. “The first batch of players that he levelled came to me with an idea. Thought I’d run it by you.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you’re pretty much in charge now.”

“I didn’t ask to be.” Bramell shrugged and Sebastian sighed. “Fire away.”

“They are feeling powerful and want to try out their new abilities.”

“How many of them?”

“Fifty. They’ve asked for permission to head out.”

“On an adventure campaign?”

“No. They want to intercept the army and harry it along the way.”

Sebastian laughed.

“Don’t like the idea?”

“The word, harry. It always makes me laugh when used that way.”

“It works. Means to attack and harass enemy forces.”

“I know what it means. When I hear it used like that I always wonder, how did it become a man’s name? And why don’t we think of that meaning when we meet a man named Harry? Hi, this is a guy who is going to attack and harass you every chance he gets.” He chuckled.

Bramell laughed. “I see what you mean. It is pretty funny.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to take you off-topic.”

Bramell laughed again and shook his head. “No problem. What do you think of the idea?”

Sebastian nodded. “I like it.”

“Tell them to go ahead with it, then?”

“Sure, but encourage them to get killed.”

A burst of laughter escaped from Bramell. He shook his head. “What kind of force are we? Let’s go to war and wipe the enemy out…and let’s make sure we all remember to die, too.”

Sebastian laughed. “Imagine any other army with such a mindset?”

“It makes sense.” Bramell’s smile faded. “We don’t want any of these kids dying back home.”

“I’ve heard some say they wouldn’t mind if that happened. If they were stuck here for the rest of their lives instead.”

Bramell raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say as I blame ’em. I prefer this reality to the other, hands down.” He considered Sebastian. “Any idea how many permanent log-ins are here with us?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I only know about myself and Aleron.”

Bramell’s eyes widened. “The kid chose permanent log-in?”

“No, but something must have happened to his body along the way. We were in the middle of Dryad’s Heart when it happened.”

“How did he handle it?” Sebastian raised one eyebrow, and Bramell shook his head. “He doesn’t know?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Shouldn’t he?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I think he deserves to.”

“Maybe.” Sebastian shrugged. “Speaking from the other side of the argument, as one who does know about my situation, I think the kid might be better off in the dark.”

“But, isn’t it one of those certainties we all have? Part of being human?”

Sebastian scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“In our real bodies. We know that when we die, that’s it.”

The older man laughed. “Maybe that’s your belief, but there are a few billion others who feel otherwise. And no matter what any of them think, not a single person actually knows.” He shook his head. “It’s not the kind of knowledge that brings any peace or comfort.”

“You say that as if you do know.”

“I’m likely one of the very few who does.”

“How can you say that? Sure, you have no body to return to, but maybe when you die here you simply go where the rest of us are all headed.”

Sebastian laughed. “How did this turn into a discussion about faith and the afterlife?”

Bramell winked. “It has nothing to do with buying and selling, so it’s safe to say you brought it up.”

“Let’s not tell the kid for now.”

Bramell stood. “Fine by me.” He began to head for the front door. “I’ll let the group know that they can head out. They want to call themselves the Pitas, by the way.”

“Pain in the asses?” Sebastian laughed. “I like it.”

Bramell reached for the door.

“Hold on a sec.”

The dwarf paused.

“Find out how many permanent log-ins are here with us, will you?”

“Sure.”

“And let’s try and make some arrangements for them to get away from here safely before the army arrives. I’m sure once our main force is killed off, the few will be able to integrate themselves into society and live to ripe old ages.”

“I like the sounds of that.” Bramell nodded and opened the door.

Chapter 51

Lirana stepped through the portal, moved two steps forward, then turned to watch as Custodian Zecaras emerged from the greyish white cloud. He dismissed the gate with the flick of his hand, and they moved toward the edge of the hilltop. The stars twinkled in the night sky, and light from each of the almost full moons cast enough light for them to see the village at the bottom of the hill on which they stood. Neither spoke as they watched the streets of the village for movement.

Lirana saw her first and reached out to touch the high crafter’s arm. He turned and followed the line of her pointed finger. The godling was there, walking slowly toward the middle of the tiny settlement. Her dress caught the moonlight and reflected it, making it seem as if she gave off a faint light of her own.

A dog began to bark as she passed one house. A second later, the dog appeared from the shadows and closed the gap between them, only to be jerked backward as it reached the end of its chain a few feet short of its target. The godling continued walking without glancing at the animal. Other dogs began to bark, and soon lights started to appear through windows.

“Don’t go outside.” Lirana’s voice was so soft that Zecaras barely heard the words.

Doors opened and heads poked out. A man spotted the godling and shouted. She did not respond, and the man stepped from his doorway and began to follow her. More joined him as she continued to walk without acknowledging their presence. By the time the girl reached the village centre, a small crowd trailed in her wake.

Lirana gripped the Custodian’s arm. “You must do something.”

He shook his head.

“Custodian. You have an obligation to protect the innocent. Those people—”

“Are already dead.”

Lirana’s eyes widened. She stared at the man for a long moment. Her gaze returned to the village. With the flick of her hand and wiggle of her fingers, she crafted a spell to enable them to hear what was being said below.

The crowd stood and stared, no one speaking as they gathered in front of the godling as if waiting for a performance to begin.

“Go on then,” a man shouted. “Say what you’re about and let us get back to sleep.”

The girl’s head turned toward him. Lirana thought she could see the whiteness of the creature’s teeth as if it had smiled. The crafter held her breath as the godling raised both slim arms in front of her body and held them toward the crowd.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered.

The sky brightened as a volley of lightning bolts descended from the sky. In a single strike, every bystander was pierced through the skull by a jagged bolt. As the flash lit the sky, an ear-splitting BOOM sounded. The darkness returned like an ebony flash, the victims visible still, as the light that had filled them slowly leached from their bodies, fading like a dying lightbulb filament.

Lirana frowned. Instead of being scattered and thrown to the ground by the force that had struck them, the villagers were all still standing. She blinked rapidly to help her eyes adjust and saw that a thin tendril of blackness extended from each person, each strand weaving together and snaking into the godling’s outstretched fingers.

“What’s she doing?” Lirana asked.

As one, the villagers began to scream. It started as a low moan and rose in pitch until they were shrieking loud enough to fill the night air with the terrifying sound.

The godling threw back her head and laughed, the tiny noise somehow discernible amid the terrified cries. The black tendrils seemed to thicken as the raw shrieks of pain became more intense.

Suddenly, the godling threw her arms skyward. There was a loud puff and each villager exploded into a powdery cloud of darkness that began to drift to the ground like flakes of ash. Out of the calmness, a mighty gust of wind swirled around the ashes, gathering them into a single mass which then flew toward the godling. Her laughter, now the only sound present, continued as the cloud surrounded her and was sucked into her body. The laughter continued until the last bit of darkness was absorbed, and then it stopped, drowning the night in total silence.

Lirana was frozen in place, one hand covering her mouth, eyes wide. The godling lowered her arms and stood stock still. Seconds turned to minutes. She did not move, and neither did the crafters on the hilltop.

Finally, the godling ran a hand through her hair, turned toward the west, and began walking down the road.

They watched in complete silence, not daring to move as the tiny form disappeared from sight.

Lirana looked at the Custodian. His eyes were wide. “It has begun,” he said.

“What has?”

“The end. She will not stop until she has consumed us all.”

“Everything that is magic?”

He shook his head. “Everything that is.”

Lirana considered the implications of what the Custodian was saying. “What can we do?”

Tears began to flow down the crafter’s face as he shook his head slowly from side to side.

Chapter 52

It was late when the last strategy meeting ended and Sebastian was able to head toward his quarters to call it a night. He stepped onto the street and heard someone call his name. He turned to see Shale approaching.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m not super-old, like you.”

He laughed. “This body is only forty-one.”

“Like I said. Super-old.”

He shook his head. “It’s much younger than my body in the real world.”

She giggled. “Next time you come into the game you should pick a younger one.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Good.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a letter. “A guy asked me to give you this.”

“What guy?”

Shale shrugged. “A player that just got into town for the first time today. I thought all the stragglers were here, but apparently a few more are trickling in.”

Sebastian accepted the letter. “Thanks.”

“What’s it say?”

He frowned. “I will know better after I read it.”

She nodded and watched him. When he did not move to open the letter she sighed. “I stayed up late to get that letter into your paws, and you can’t be bothered to let me know what it says?” She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to reply. When he didn’t, she shrugged and turned. “Okay, then. You can tell me tomorrow. Night, Seb.”

“Night, Shale.” When she was out of sight, he opened the letter and began to read. He finished and looked to see if anyone was watching him from nearby.

“Guess I won’t be going to sleep quite yet,” he muttered and began to walk in the opposite direction from his quarters.

***

Kieran heard a rustle to his left and turned as Sebastian stepped from the woods.

“Evening.”

“Kieran.” Sebastian stopped a few feet away and looked the Scout up and down. “You look good. No lingering damage from our last meeting?”

Kieran grinned. “I have access to the best healers in the world. Without them, I would have been missing a few pieces and limped, most likely.”

“I’m glad to see they fixed you up good as new.”

“I’m a bit sore and stiff in the mornings.”

Sebastian smiled. “One of life’s little gifts to reward us for not dying younger.”

“True enough.”

“What are we doing out here in the middle of nowhere, late at night?”

“Early in the morning, you mean.” Kieran stroked his goatee. “I wanted to have a chat before things get messy.”

“You coming to help the army crush us?”

“If they need it, but I don’t think they will.”

Sebastian nodded. “I hope we can put up a good fight for you.”

“I’m counting on it.” He paused. “From the players. I hope you’re not here when it all hits the fan.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Sebastian raised one eyebrow.

“I came to save you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“When the players die, they will return to their real bodies. Not you, though. Yours is dead and gone. This world is your home now, for better or worse.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s pointless to sacrifice your life. This battle isn’t worth it.”

“I’m a bit disappointed to hear that, Kieran. One of the keys to success is a positive attitude. If you don’t think this fight is worthwhile, your side might be at a disadvantage.”

Kieran smiled. “I’d be more concerned if I thought you could access your magic to use against us.”

Sebastian sighed and shook his head. “Wish I could figure out what’s wrong with me. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t craft like I’d hoped to.”

“You had a few good adventures with power at your fingertips.”

“Didn’t seem like enough.” He shrugged. “But sometimes ya gotta take what you can get, right?”

Kieran smirked and said nothing.

“What?”

“I need you to leave your team behind. Come with me. Tonight.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I know, but I had to try.”

Sebastian frowned.

“Your magic not working was our doing.”

“Yours?” Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed. “The Scouts?”

“Aye.”

“But—”

“You tweaked the system too much, Sebastian. Gave yourself access to way more power than any individual should have.” Kieran shook his head. “That made you dangerous. Uncontrollable. We couldn’t allow it.”

“Wait a minute.” Sebastian held his hand up. “If you shut me down, then how come I got it back during our encounter in Dryad’s Heart?”

“Couple reasons. Firstly, you needed to get out and the others couldn’t have done it on their own.”

“But the final encounter was you.”

“That’s right.”

“Why make me fight you at all if you wanted us to get out. You could’ve simply opened the door—”

“That wasn’t possible. Occasionally there are conditions and laws that even Scouts can’t override in this reality. The only way to get out of that instance was to beat a high-level boss. The best I could do was replace the final encounter with myself and the other Scouts.” He smiled. “The game considered us to be high-level.”

“You fought pretty hard.”

“Of course, that was part of the set conditions of that dungeon. I did everything in my power to kill you all. If I hadn’t, the door wouldn’t have opened to let you out.”

“You didn’t throw that game? Let me win? I’ve often wondered about that.”

“I tried my best to wipe you out. And to be honest, I was pretty sure I had you. That brings me to the second reason for turning your powers back on during that fight.”

“Which is?”

“To see how powerful you really are with it.” Kieran made a bowing motion. “Turns out you are. Extremely powerful.”

“Yeah.”

“Sure I can’t convince you to come with me?”

Sebastian shook his head.

“Then I guess this is goodbye. Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?” Sebastian asked.

“Not obliterating me at Dryad’s Heart.”

Sebastian nodded. “Didn’t seem right.”

Kieran extended his hand. “I didn’t deserve the mercy, but I’m thankful for it.”

Sebastian gripped the Scout’s hand. They shook, and Kieran felt the other man relax his grip and attempt to disengage. Kieran continued to hold fast. “Wish I could show you the same courtesy, but again, my hands are tied.”

Sebastian frowned. “What are you talking—”

With his free hand, Kieran reached behind his back and drew a knife. Then he jerked Sebastian forward, unbalancing him and yanking his body closer. In the space of a heartbeat, the blade came up and pierced Sebastian’s throat in one smooth motion. His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing as his strength left him.

Sebastian slumped to the ground, dead before his head touched the earth.

Kieran bent down and closed Sebastian’s lifeless eyes with his hand. Then he stood and disappeared into the forest.

Chapter 53

Fen was walking down the street when he felt a tap on his shoulder and smiled as Shale appeared at his side. “Hey, girl.”

“Where’s Isaac?”

“Have you been crying?”

“Have you seen Isaac this morning?”

“No, but I’m sure he’s around.”

Shale sped up, but Fen reached out and gently grabbed her elbow. “Hang on, I’ll help you find him. Let’s try this way.” He steered her to the left and looped her arm into his. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head.

“Shale. You’re starting to scare me.”

She sniffed and continued to look straight ahead. “Let’s find Isaac. Then I’ll say it.”

“Okay.”

***

They found him standing in front of Bramell’s mercantile with a small group of players. Bramell was there as well, a few feet from the group smoking a cigar.

Shale tugged on Isaac’s sleeve. “I have to tell you something.”

Isaac laughed. “Good morning to you, too.” His eyes met Fen’s and his smile faded. “Guys, can I get a minute alone with Fen and Shale?”

The group dispersed. Bramell took a puff from his cigar. “Want me to leave, too?”

Shale’s lower lip quivered. “Bramell, I need you to find the best healer right away and get her or him to come with us.”

“Where are we going?” Isaac frowned. “Is someone hurt?”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she bit her lower lip. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. “I found him while I was out hunting this morning.”

“Found who?” Fen placed a hand on her back.

“Seb.”

“He’s hurt?” Isaac asked.

“No. He’s dead.”

***

Two rangers stood guard over the body.

“They were with me when I found him,” Shale mumbled. “Said they would wait and keep watch while I came to get you.”

Fen quickened his pace and got to Sebastian’s corpse before the others. He knelt down and lifted the cloak that covered his friend. Isaac, Shale, and Tanda, the highest-level priest in town, fanned around the body.

Fen stood and took a step back. Isaac took his place and knelt beside the body.

“Seb, what did you do?” He bowed his head and rested a hand on Sebastian’s chest, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

No one spoke. They knew the history between the two well enough to respect the moment.

Finally Isaac looked up, his eyes glassy.

Tanda crouched down across from Isaac to examine the body. She closed her eyes and held both hands palm down a few inches over Sebastian. She spoke holy words and let her hands move slowly over the length of his body.

Isaac waited until Tanda opened her eyes. “Can you resurrect him?”

She frowned and shook her head. “It’s too late.”

“Too late?” Shale snapped. “He can’t have been dead for more than a few hours. I’ve heard of people being rezzed weeks after they died.”

“There has to be a trace of his essence to bring back.”

“And there isn’t?”

“Not even a spark.”

The group stood in silence.

Isaac said. “Let’s take him back to town and find a good spot to bury him.”

“I’ll do it,” Fen offered.

“I’ll help,” Shale said.

“No.”

“But—” Fen’s look silenced her.

“I know of a good spot,” Fen said. “One that we both talked about.”

Isaac nodded. “Okay.”

“Stay here while I go get a shovel.” Fen gripped Isaac’s shoulder as he walked past.

Chapter 54

Xander finished his last bite of breakfast and stood. “You haven’t told us much about this fusion thing, Kieran.”

“I’ll tell you more when you need to know.” The Scout loaded a bite of eggs onto his fork.

“It gives us some sort of power?”

“Some sort. Yeah.”

“You likely want us to fight someone. Or something.”

Kieran raised one eyebrow. “Sorry, I should have said something like, ‘I’ll tell you more when you need to know.’”

Xander pursed his lips and opened his mouth to respond, but turned his head as a large patch of mist began to form on the far side of their camp.

The Scout set his plate down and stood as an old man in robes emerged from the portal. “Custodian Zecaras.”

“Master Scout.”

“What can I do for you?”

The master crafter took note of the others. “I’m pleased to see that you’ve already gathered the light and dark.”

“I had a feeling we might need them soon.”

“We need them now.”

“Are you certain?”

He nodded. “The godling is on the loose.”

Kieran frowned. “You’re certain it’s her?”

“Absolutely.”

“How bad is it so far?”

“She has passed through three villages and two towns.”

“Then she’s barely started.” The Scout nodded. “That’s good.” He turned to Mercy. “I must go for a few hours. Wait for me here.”

Mercy nodded.

“Come with me, Custodian.” Kieran walked toward the portal, waited for the crafter to stand beside him, and then they both stepped through.

“Did he say godling?” Helias asked.

“He did,” Mercy said.

“What’s that?” Xander asked.

The paladin shook his head. “A creature of ancient magic which cannot be destroyed.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“If that disturbs you,” the paladin laughed. “Wait till you hear who they’re gonna send to fight it.”

***

Kieran and the Custodian appeared near the edge of the army encampment. The Scout surveyed the crowds and nodded. “Looks like they are finally assembled, which is good timing for us. Come on, let’s go find Ansko.”

They found the Scout in the large command tent positioned at the centre of camp. Generals and war chiefs from every race were gathered around a large table. Ansko was speaking, but stopped when Kieran and the Custodian entered.

“You don’t look as if you bring good news, brother,” Ansko said.

“I don’t.” Kieran moved to stand at the head of the table. “Are any generals missing?”

“No, everyone is here.”

“Good.” The master Scout looked around the table. “Most of you know Custodian Zecaras. He has been keeping an eye on a problem that we’ve been expecting for a long time now.”

“The prophecy?” The human general asked.

“Yes,” Kieran nodded. “The godling has returned to Preu Treya. She has begun to devour our world and will not stop until everything is dead and gone. This threat far outweighs that of the players.”

“Then we shall move to intercept her,” the orcish battle lord declared, “and destroy the evil creature before she becomes too powerful to stop.”

Custodian Zecaras shook his head. “She is already too powerful to stop.”

“What do you mean?” the gnomish general asked.

“With a flick of her fingers, she can vaporize our entire force.” The Custodian turned to Kieran. “Tell them of the plan.”

All heads turned toward the Scout. “He’s right. The main force is too big and would not be able to stop her. If we are able to defeat her at all, it will be with a smaller group. I think it is wise to disband this army and send the majority of you back to your lands and families.”

Protests and grumbles rose from the group. Kieran waited for silence to return. “What we do require are forty small teams, comprising twenty to thirty troops per unit. We will use these forces to distract the godling, diverting her attention and drawing her close enough to the only weapon that may be able to destroy her.”

Hands began to rise, but Kieran continued speaking. “It is probable—almost certainly guaranteed—that anyone who volunteers will be destroyed. And by that I don’t mean slain by an arrow or blade. Her victims are wiped from this reality as if they never existed. If no one volunteers, I understand. There is no shame or loss of honour for returning to your homes.” He leaned forward so that both hands rested on the table in front of him. “But the units I am asking you to volunteer for will mean the difference between success and failure. And should we fail, the godling will not stop her rampage until every living thing is obliterated from this land.”

Kieran stood and waited.

Every leader raised a hand.

Chapter 55

“Let me get this straight.” Xyclotl asked from his perch on Xander’s shoulder. “You have to partner up with a disgusting paladin of the Light to fight some sort of monster—”

“A godling.”

“Some monster, because no one else can stand up to it?”

“That’s right.”

Xander felt the shard imp’s tail brush against his neck. “That’s gotta be the lamest story I’ve ever heard.”

“There’s obviously more to it than that.”

“Oh, obviously.” Xyclotl snorted. “Probably gotta polish the guy’s boots and armour or something. Not that it could get any more embarrassing. You know Death Strykers and paladins are supposed to kill each other, right?”

“Yes.”

“Death Stryker sees paladin and buries sword in his face.” He paused. “Or her face. All paladins deserve to be killed, regardless of sex or race.”

“How generous of you.”

“I’m a progressive fellow.”

Xander raised one eyebrow.

“Regardless of the finer details,” Xyclotl continued, “Death Strykers never, ever, hug a paladin of the Light and become friends. Ever.”

“Kieran will explain it more when he gets back.”

“I bet he will. He’s likely picking up a pretty dress and slippers for you as we speak.”

“Stop it.”

They moved along the path quietly for a few dozen steps.

“Wait a minute,” the shard imp said. “I can tell you right now one thing that is most definitely not going to happen in this insane story, buddy.”

“What’s that?”

“I might have armour and a weapon, but there’s no way in hell you’re gonna get me to fight.”

Xander laughed.

“I mean it. Shard imps don’t fight.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? ’Cause I hear you speaking the words, but you’re not selling me with your tone. You’re new to this world, so I can see where you might have gotten a bit turned around on this particular subject. Check with your cute teacher, she’ll tell you.”

“She already has.”

“Uh-huh. Well, ask her again. I want you very clear on this. Shard imps. Don’t. Fight.”

“I’ve seen you without the armour, Xyclotl. I know you’re not gonna fight. If the world has to rely on you to swing that axe of yours in order to survive…”

“Then the world is gonna die!”

Xander laughed. “Exactly.”

They were both laughing as they came to the edge of the camp. Mercy sat on the ground, leaning against a tree and reading a book. On the other side of the camp, Helias and Firth were sitting on the ground cross-legged. Both were looking at the ground in front of them.

“What’s going on over there?” Xyclotl asked.

“I’m not sure.” The Death Stryker moved closer.

“Oh wow,” the shard imp exclaimed. Xander looked at his companion and saw that he was staring, with eyes wide and mouth open.

“Is that an archon?” Xander whispered.

“It sure is.” Xyclotl sounded as if he was suddenly out of breath.

The archon stood on the grass in front of the paladin. She was as tall as Xyclotl. Her hair was long and golden, her face stunningly beautiful. Lithe, muscular legs were visible underneath sparsely placed plates of reddish gold amour. Her torso was also scantily covered by armour plates. It was clear that she was in peak physical condition, as all warriors were here. Angelic-looking wings peaked over her shoulders, the feathers glinting gold and silver in the mid-morning light. She was speaking to Helias but stopped and gazed at the newcomers. Her lips twitched, hinting at a smile without fully committing to the gesture.

Helias turned. “Heya, Xander.” He frowned. “Is that a shard imp on your shoulder?”

“No,” Xyclotl smirked. “He’s just happy to see you.”

Firth laughed and the archon smiled, which made her beauty shine even more.

Xander held out his hand. “This is my shard imp, Xyclotl.”

The shard imp flew into the air but, rather than land on Xander’s hand, it descended to the grass and stood facing the archon.

“Pleased to meet you, Xyclotl,” Helias said.

“Yeah, yeah.” The shard imp did not take his eyes off the archon.

“This is my companion, Celeste. I guess she’s the Light’s equivalent of a shard imp.”

“Hello, boys.” Celeste’s tone was formal, with a slight accent that sounded very British to Xander. He opened his mouth to speak, but Xyclotl beat him to it.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Celeste.”

The archon rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, but there was no threat in the motion. “It’s nice to meet you both.” She looked at Helias. “I’m gonna head out now, my man. Unless you need anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“Hey, what’s the rush?” Xyclotl asked. “We aren’t saving the world or anything at the moment.” He leaned closer and smiled. “That comes in a few days, I hear. Why don’t you stay a while. We can chat and get to know each other a little bit.”

“We?” Her mouth turned upward into an amused grin. “Save the world? Archons fight, but I didn’t think shard imps did.”

His brows furrowed. “Most don’t, but I’m different.” He indicated his suit of armour. “As you can clearly see.”

Xander smiled.

“This is funny,” Celeste said. “I was just telling Helias that the plan to have us fuse would never work.”

“Why would you say something like that, doll?”

“Because you shard imps don’t fight.”

His eyebrows rose, and he reached back to touch the haft of the battle axe strapped to his back. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t wade into battle to save the day when it’s called for?”

Celeste shrugged. “Maybe you’re different from the others. I guess we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”

“Count on it, my lady. Should anything threaten your well-being, I will be there to defend you.”

“I don’t need defending.”

“To fight by your side, then.”

Celeste smiled.

Xander shook his head.

Chapter 56

They had finished cleaning up after the dinner meal when a portal formed and Kieran emerged from it. He strode into camp and sat by the fire. “I missed dinner, didn’t I?”

Firth produced a plate with food and handed it to the Scout.

“You’re the best.” He accepted the plate with a smile. Firth gave him a fork, and he attacked the food with zest.

“I’m surprised to see you return so soon,” Mercy said.

“So soon?” He spoke while chewing. “I wanted to get here earlier, but it took longer than I expected to set things up with the army. Now that it is all taken care of on that end, the rest is up to us. Mercy, you know the plan. Can you share it with the others while I finish eating?”

She nodded. “Are you able to show us the godling in action?”

“Sure.” He waved a hand over the campfire and an image appeared. They watched the godling enter a village and destroy everyone in it. When she began to walk out of the settlement, Kieran raised a hand and the scene paused. “Need to see it again?”

“Yes,” Mercy said.

He made a swiping motion. The scene rewound to the beginning and then began to play once more. By the time it finished the second time, Kieran was done with his meal.

“You can continue,” Mercy said.

Kieran rewound the video and froze it where the view contained a good view of the godling. He left it hovering in place above the fire for them all to see. “No, you go ahead.”

“As you wish.” She turned toward Helias and Xander. “The plan is to lure the godling to an area surrounded by stone. There are many canyons that fill the bill. Kieran and I will select one when we get closer.”

Xander nodded.

“Small groups of volunteers will appear on the godling’s left and right in an attempt to distract and provoke her to follow them. As she moves to close with one group, the two of you will appear and attack. That will draw her focus for a short time and you will move her forward. Soon after you engage her, another group will appear from the opposite side of the route. You must withdraw and let her chase them for a time before re-engaging.”

“Why not have her focus solely on us and lead her in that way?” Helias asked.

“Because she will summon waves of creatures to attack you. If you do not kill each wave before the next arrives, then they will eventually overwhelm and defeat you.”

“She will summon creatures?” Xander frowned. “From what we just saw, she doesn’t need to.”

“I’ll explain that part in a second,” Kieran said. “Finish detailing the plan, Mercy.”

She nodded. “The last group of soldiers will draw her into the canyon.” She spread her hands. “And at that point, your job is done. Head back to the woods and wait.”

“That’s it?” Helias asked.

Mercy smiled. “That will be more than enough when you’re in the thick of it.”

Kieran set the empty plate behind him and wiped his hands on a cloth. “Any questions about the strategy?”

The Death Stryker and paladin both shook their heads.

“Good. To answer the question of why she will have to summon creatures to kill you instead of turning you into dust, as she so obviously prefers to do.” He smiled and spread his hands. “She can’t.”

“Because we are fused?” Helias asked.

“Not yet,” Kieran said. “There is a tiny spell to finish the process, which I will perform a day or so before the encounter. You will feel a bit different after, but I know you’ll both adjust quickly.”

“Different how?” Xander asked.

“You will know each other’s thoughts, sense what the other is going to do at the same moment they do. Stuff like that.”

“Interesting.” Xander nodded.

“Don’t worry, you can control that. Turn it on and off as needed. You will also have access to powers and spells that are only available as a result of the fusion.”

“Which spells?”

Kieran shook his head. “There are too many to list. You would forget half and not even recognize a lot of them. When you are fused, you will know each spell and ability as intimately as if you had mastered them decades ago. But only when and if the situation calls for the specific spell. Another benefit of the fusion.”

The warriors made eye contact. Xander smiled, and Helias returned the gesture a second later.

“The godling was created by powerful crafters who fought for dominion over one another. During that time, one mage thought it would be a good idea to make a being capable of consuming magic.”

“Traelior Valxina,” Mercy said.

“The powerful white mage?” Helias frowned.

“That’s right,” Kieran said. “The guy known for being good and kind was also guilty of committing what is arguably the most evil act in the entire history of our land. He took three innocent children and made them each drink the blood of people, twisting them into creatures of pure destruction.”

“Three?” Xander asked. “What happened to the other two? Were they destroyed long ago?”

“Traelior somehow managed to reason with two of them. He showed them a better way to use their power, and they agreed to do so. The third, however,” he spread his hands, “was not swayed. When she vowed to continue doing what she had been created to accomplish—the total annihilation of reality—her brother and sister allied with each other to stop her.”

“Brother and sister?” Xander frowned.

Kieran nodded. “Because they were immune to each other’s magic, the two managed to overpower and capture the godling. Unable to destroy her, they locked her away in a prison that was supposed to last for eternity. Apparently it did not.”

“And what happened to the brother and sister?”

“They became the Lady of Darkness and Lord of Light.”

“Damn,” Helias breathed.

Kieran smiled. “And that is why, when you are fused, the godling will not be able to use her magic to directly harm either of you.”

“Wow.” Xander shook his head. “That’s some very cool lore. I don’t think many know it. At least from back home.”

“You’re right,” Kieran said.

“I have a question about this plan.” Helias raised a hand. “What happens to her inside that canyon?”

Kieran grinned. “The Scouts will be there to do our thing.”

“You have the power to destroy her?”

“Maybe.”

“How many Scouts?” Mercy asked.

“All of them.”

Chapter 57

Sebastian opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly as he tried to remember what had happened.

“He’s awake.”

A face appeared over him, blocking out the rough-hewn stone ceiling.

“Fen?” Sebastian asked.

The warrior smiled. “Memory seems okay.” He winked. “At least the more important details.”

Sebastian pulled himself up into a sitting position, closing his eyes as a wave of mild dizziness washed over him.

“Steady there, ol’ fella. You’re likely gonna be weak for a bit. Take it slow.”

“Sitting up in bed is about as slow as anyone can take something, isn’t it?”

Fen chuckled. “Sense of humour is in good shape, too.”

The dizziness lessened. Sebastian turned and saw Aleron sitting on a chair, watching a kettle heat up over a fire. He turned and nodded, a grin on his face. “Welcome back, Seb.”

“Thanks kid. I’ll take a bit of that tea when it’s ready, if you don’t mind.”

“You get the first cup.”

Sebastian looked around the room. “Where are we?”

“A cool little cave hidden in the side of a mountain.” Fen stood and moved to a counter that had been built against one wall. He picked up a bread knife and began to saw a hunk from a round loaf sitting on the cutting board. “I can’t stop exploring since I got to this world. There are so many cool things to find.” He slathered some butter on the bread, put it on a plate, and carried it back to Sebastian. “Found this place a few weeks back. It was hidden very well. Decided to keep it a secret for myself. I’m glad that I did.”

Sebastian reached up and touched his throat. He felt a raised line on the skin. “I was stabbed.”

“Yeah.” Fen set the plate on Sebastian’s lap, then pulled a chair beside the bed and sat. “Kieran said it would be quick and painless. Hope it was both.”

“Kieran?” Aleron asked.

Fen nodded.

Sebastian’s memory of the encounter flowed into his mind. He felt anger take hold of him. “That son of a—”

“He did it for a reason,” Fen said.

“Yeah, to kill me.” Sebastian felt his chest tighten and his cheeks turn warm. “I’m gonna find that bastard and return the favour. I don’t care if I have to chase him across the entire—”

“He’ll be here in a few hours.”

Sebastian frowned. “He’s coming here?”

Fen nodded.

“To finish the job?” Sebastian turned and swung his legs onto the floor. “Well, he’s not going to find me lying in bed waiting for another cheap shot, that’s for sure. Somebody give me a dagger. I’ll shove it so far up his—”

“Relax,” Fen laughed as he reached out and touched Sebastian’s shoulder, applying firm pressure to keep him from rising. “He’s not coming to kill you.”

“Then what’s he coming for?”

“To help.”

Sebastian sneered. “I’m not interested in his kind of help. I’m lucky you managed to resurrect me once. The more you die, the tougher it gets to come back. At least, that’s how it was in the other versions of the game. Maybe it’s different in this land—”

“It isn’t,” Aleron said.

“There you go, then. I’m not risking another death if another resurrection is less certain.”

“You weren’t resurrected,” Fen said.

“Huh?” Sebastian frowned.

“We brought Tanda to your corpse. She said it was impossible to resurrect you.”

“Then how did you manage to bring me back to life?”

“Remember that necklace I gave you? Okay, I didn’t give it to you. I was dead. But somebody did. Remember?”

“Of course.” Sebastian’s hand came up to his neck and his fingers brushed against the cool stone of the amulet. “I haven’t taken it off since the day I got it.”

“Which turns out to be a very good thing.”

“What do you mean?”

Aleron stood and handed Sebastian a cup of tea. “The amulet is a phylactery.”

“You’re joking?”

“I’m not.”

“I wasn’t resurrected by a priest?”

“No sir.”

“My soul is inside this gem around my neck?”

“That’s right. Safe and sound inside that magically strengthened gem.” Fen was not smiling. “The thing would never work for me because my avatar has zero magical ability. Kieran told me to give it to you should I ever die. He said that, for some reason, resurrection could never work on you and having…wearing a phylactery was the only way to make sure you wouldn’t die permanently if it ever came to that.”

Sebastian frowned. “He didn’t want me dead permanently?”

“Of course not. He didn’t want to kill you at all. He looked for other solutions, but in the end he said it was the only way.”

“The only way to do what?”

“To unlock your magic.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat. “What?”

“Kieran said he had to lock your powers before. I don’t know why, but he wanted the lock taken off. He said the only way to do that—permanently remove the block so no one could put it back on again—was to kill you.”

“Are you telling me that I can craft now?”

“You should be able to.”

Sebastian handed the tea to Aleron. Then he focused his will and held up his right palm. There was a whoosh and a tiny ball of fire appeared. Sebastian smiled.

“This is all good, right, Seb?” Fen asked. “You’re alive. You can craft.”

“Those parts are good, yeah.” He closed his hand and the fireball disappeared. “I don’t think I’m too keen on the other part, though.”

“The necklace?”

“Phylactery.” He sighed. “That’s much different than a necklace or amulet.”

“True.”

“I am definitely not so happy about my soul being inside this gem.”

Fen grimaced and Aleron raised one eyebrow.

“You went and turned me into a lich, Fen.”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re picturing, Seb.”

Sebastian lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “A friggin’ lich.”

Chapter 58

Xander felt something gently shake his shoulder. He opened his eyes, keeping the rest of his body still, as he’d learned to do, and saw Mercy staring down at him.

He sat up and scanned the campsite. Kieran was adding logs to the fire and Helias was plucking the coffee pot from the grill. Firth yawned loudly, his arms stretching toward the sky.

Xander saw that the moon was still quite high. “We moving out now?”

Mercy stood and nodded toward Kieran. “The three of us.”

Helias handed him a cup of coffee. “Toss that back to get ya going,” the paladin said. “It looks as if you get to do a side mission before the main event.”

“A warmup?” Xander smiled and took a sip, glancing at Mercy over the lip of his cup. She returned his gaze with a blank expression on her face.

Xander took a few minutes to wake up. He finished his coffee and stood. “Ready.”

Helias laughed. “How I envy you, not having to carry gear any longer.”

“I still do,” Xander smiled and tapped his forearms. “But it is much more compact than regular gear.”

“Good hunting.” Helias lay back on his bedroll and pulled the cover over his shoulder.

The young Death Stryker joined Kieran and Mercy. The Scout raised his hand and mist appeared, but Mercy shook her head and stepped forward.

“This is better in the dark.” She summoned a shadow gate, and they stepped into the murky corridor.

***

Xander emerged from the shadows and waited for the others.

Kieran thrust his chin to the right. “You two will go that way. My business is in the opposite direction. How long will you need to get this done?”

“We will be ready to depart by first light,” Mercy said.

“Perfect.” The Scout nodded and slapped Xander on the shoulder. “Happy hunting, killer.” Xander frowned as Kieran disappeared into the woods. Then he turned toward Mercy. “Can you tell me what we’re up to now?”

“Only you.” She sniffed. “I will be near should you need me, but you won’t.”

Xander waited.

“The player outpost is beyond the woods. You will enter the settlement and send them back to their reality.”

“Kill them?”

“Every single one.” She raised one eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“Me against over two thousand players, who are all twenty or more levels higher than I am?”

She nodded.

Xander smiled. The midnight flowed from his arms, moving in all directions to cover his body and take the form of ridged, obsidian plate mail. Two lengths of the substance extended from his gauntlets and became swords in the style that he was most comfortable using. A faceplate materialized, covering his mouth and making him look like a fanged Japanese demon from back home.

Mercy looked at him appraisingly, nodded, then looked to his immediate right as if seeing someone standing beside him. “Death has joined you tonight.”

Xander nodded once. “Then I will do my best to entertain her.”

***

Xander found Shale on the second floor of the third tavern he entered.

He watched her sleep for a few seconds. She stirred and half rolled over. Xander considered waking her, thanking her for the kindness and camaraderie that she had shared with him. To tell her that he had enjoyed their time playing together.

He shook his head, deciding against it. Instead, he formed a thin dagger in his right hand and slid it into her neck, killing her quickly and without causing any pain. As her avatar drew its last breath, Xander whispered the customary sentence shared between gamers when a playing session ended.

“Good game, well played.”

He pulled the blade free, eyes already moving in search of his next victim.

***

Isaac opened his eyes, unsure what had caused him to wake up. He turned in the darkness and spied an even darker outline of a person sitting on a chair near his bed. He frowned and started to sit up.

“Lie still, Isaac.”

He froze.

“Good.” The outline crossed one leg over the other, something that should be impossible since it was obvious the person was wearing plate mail.

“Who are you?” Isaac asked.

“Come on now. You don’t remember me? I didn’t even make it hard to guess. How many players do you know who wear armour and are most comfortable in the dark?”

Isaac frowned.

“Okay.” The shadow stood, making no sound as he rose and moved closer. “I’ll throw you another clue. Someone asked you to dump me into this world, alone and without any help. To strand me here so I wouldn’t be a threat back home.”

Isaac’s eyes widened.

Faint laughter. “Now he gets it.”

“Xander.”

The shadow bowed. “In the digital flesh.”

Isaac sat up, ignoring the earlier command not to. “Hey, man,” he said. “Good to see you.”

“Pardon?”

Isaac grinned. “Come on, Xander. You don’t believe I sent you here thinking you would fail?”

“That’s exactly what I believe.”

Isaac laughed and shook his head. “You’re a professional gamer. Sure, I held back on a few things—”

“Everything.”

“Maybe.” His eyes widened. “But here you sit, obviously having done very well for yourself in spite of the rocky start. I hope you’re not gonna ask me to believe you never figured it all out?”

“I did, but at great cost to my body, and mind. The pain—”

Isaac scowled. “You gotta be kidding me.” He shook his head. “You chose to enter this game and play a Death Stryker. A literal killing machine, forged in blood and misery.” He paused. “Hey. This is like a revenge encounter from the PC game, isn’t it?”

Xander did not reply.

“Haha, wow. This is a revenge encounter.” Isaac spoke the next sentence as one would talk to an infant. “Did little Xander have a bad time playing the class he picked? Poor little baby.” Isaac paused and waited for the player to say something. When no reply came, he laughed once more and spoke normally. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, kid, but if you came to frighten me, it ain’t gonna work.”

A full minute passed in silence. Then Xander turned and walked toward the door.

Isaac lay down and pulled the covers up as he turned to face the wall. “Close the door on your way out, will you? It gets drafty in here sometimes.”

Light filled the room.

Isaac frowned and turned over. His eyes widened as Xander’s gauntleted fist came down hard and gripped him by the mouth. The gauntlet twisted, causing pressure that forced Isaac to turn onto his back. Isaac swatted at the Death Stryker’s arm and tried to shout for help, but the metal from the gauntlet bit into his mouth, cutting his lips and preventing him from making any noise.

Xander’s face plate melted away to reveal his face. He leaned close. Isaac could feel the icy coldness emanating from the young man’s ruined eye socket. “I’m not going anywhere, Isaac,” he said in a deep voice. “Every single player in this town is dead.” He saw Isaac’s eyes widen further, and he nodded. “That’s right. I slaughtered them all in their sleep. It’s just you and me now. I don’t have to be gone until dawn, and that’s not for a long time.” He held a knife between their faces and grinned wickedly. “At least it will feel like a long time to you.”

The knife touched Isaac’s left cheek near his eye. He felt a sting of pain as the tip pierced his skin.

“You’re right, Isaac. I knew what I was getting into. Why should I be upset that I had to endure a little pain? It’s a great question, and deserves an answer. I could tell you, but I’m not great with words. I’d hate to do a bad job at conveying how real pain can be in this world. So instead of talking, I’ll show you.”

Isaac shook his head and shouted, his voice making a garbled sound as the blade sank deeper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you until you beg for it. And likely not right away when you get to that point. Now let’s get started, shall we? First I’ll cover how I lost my eye. The first time.”

Isaac felt a searing pain at the same moment the vision in his eye disappeared in a flood of heat and oily wetness.

Xander adjusted his grip so that he was now holding Isaac around the throat.

His lips now free, Isaac opened his mouth and began to scream.

Chapter 59

A crafter becomes a lich by storing his or her soul in a receptacle called a phylactery.

Unlike most undead creatures, the lich retains all memories, personality, and abilities. It is the same person as before, but it also becomes immune to poison, disease, degeneration, and aging.

With such invulnerability, a lich can exist for a very long time. As such, the lich will invariably become extremely powerful in both intelligence and magic use.

So long as his or her soul is protected in its container, the lich is immortal.

The Lich — Blades VR Monster Guide, 3rd edition, pages 145-147

Sebastian lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He heard a new person enter but did not turn to see who it was. Something in his gut told him he already knew.

“Want some tea, Kieran?” Aleron asked.

“Sure, I’ll have a cup.”

Silence returned to the room. The fire crackled, and pretty soon the water inside the pot began to heat up. Sebastian heard water poured into a cup, but still he looked at the rough-hewn stone above him.

A sipping noise. “Great tea, lad. You’ve a knack for it.”

“I drop some leaves into a cup and pour hot water over them.”

“You make it sound simple. That’s the mark of a true craftsman.”

Aleron laughed. Sebastian sighed loudly and shook his head.

“Ahh,” Kieran said. “We finally hear from the man on the bed.”

“There’s no man over here,” Sebastian grumbled. “You know damned well what I’ve become. What you and my buddy Fen over there turned me into.” After a few seconds, he heard someone get up and drag a chair. He turned as Kieran sat down and nodded his head once in greeting. “You look pretty damned good, if you ask me.”

“For a lich.”

“For anything.”

“I’m a monster.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Am too. I have my own page in the third-edition monster guide. Might be three pages. It’s at least one, for sure.”

Kieran laughed.

“It’s funny to you, is it? Figures.”

“Do you feel different?”

Sebastian frowned. “Huh?”

“Inside. Or out, for that matter. Does anything about you feel different than it did before you died?”

Sebastian sat up and tilted his head backward. “I’ve got a nice little scar right here. Didn’t have that before. That’s different.”

Kieran shook his head and laughed.

Sebastian stared at Kieran for a long moment. “I understand why you did it. And I am glad to have access to the magic.”

“It is known that Scouts are the most powerful beings in Preu Treya. No one would think of going up against us.” Kieran smiled. “A few did at first, but we made examples of them.”

“I can imagine.”

“Better to create a legend than continually have to worry about threats.”

“Makes sense.”

“You tried to come into the game with too much power. More than us.” The Scout shook his head. “We couldn’t allow that. At least, not before we were ready for it.”

“You want me to help you fight the godling?”

“We need you to help fight her.”

“How many Scouts are there?”

“A good number.”

“You expect me to believe that your combined powers can’t defeat her?”

“We are able to do our part, but we can’t succeed without your help. Your power.”

“What happens after we destroy her?”

The Scout smiled. “That will be up to you, my friend.”

“I find that hard to believe. Seems as if you Scouts have been steering this boat since you first arrived.”

“We have.”

“And you expect me to believe that you’ll stop?”

“We will stop. I’m certain that you don’t believe me, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll see that I speak the truth. If the godling is defeated.”

Sebastian stared for a long moment. Kieran shrugged. “You’ve got nothing to lose.”

“You’re right. I’m already dead.”

“Undead. And the best form of undead there is. Your flesh is warm, your heart pumps blood through your body.” He raised his teacup and took a drink. “A medical exam back home wouldn’t show anything to indicate you were anything less than normal.”

“Better than normal, if you ask me,” Fen said, from where he sat at the table with Aleron.

“I didn’t ask you. Not now, and not the last ten times you said that.”

Fen laughed. “You won’t get sick. You will live for a long time; centuries if you want. And you can craft magic.” He shrugged. “I don’t see any downside.”

“There are downsides.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow and looked at Kieran. “Right?”

“Nothing’s perfect.”

Sebastian grumbled. “I should melt you where you sit.”

“That’s your prerogative.”

“You know I won’t.”

The Scout grinned. “I convinced myself the odds were against it before I decided to come see you.”

“And if you had thought the other way?”

“I still would have come. It’s important that you help us.”

“And then you never bother me again?”

Kieran raised his hand with three fingers held up. “Scout’s honour.”

“You were a scout?”

Kieran laughed. “I am a Scout.”

Sebastian grumbled again. He looked at Fen. The warrior smiled and gave him the thumbs-up.

Kieran took another sip of tea.

Sebastian nodded. “Tell me what to do, then.”

Chapter 60

Kieran finished the last bite of sausage and groaned as he set the fork on his plate. “That was delicious.”

Fen nodded from across the fire. “Nothing tastes so good as breakfast when camping.”

Aleron shook his head. “I’d prefer to have someone else cook and serve it to me at a table, instead of sitting on the ground and balancing the plate on my lap.”

Sebastian smiled and looked around the fire. “This has been fun.”

“Wait till you have to do it for another week or more,” Firth grumbled.

“I don’t mean the camping.” Sebastian set his plate on the ground beside him. “I mean this whole adventure. Coming to this land.”

“It is remarkable, Seb,” Fen said. “You really outdid yourself.”

“I think so, too.”

“Are we going to gather for a group hug now?” Mercy asked.

“Would you join in if I said yes?” Sebastian asked.

Mercy scowled and shook her head.

Xander laughed and stood. “Should we bring our supplies?”

“No,” Kieran said. “We can come back for them after the day has been won.”

“Awesome,” Fen clapped Sebastian on the back. “I can’t wait to do this.”

“I’m sorry, old friend,” Sebastian shook his head. “You can’t come to this party.”

“What?” Fen frowned. “Why not?”

“Because if the godling kills you, that’s it,” Sebastian spread his hands. “You cease to exist. Not just here, but back home as well.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not worth the risk. You have a long life ahead of you.”

“Yeah. Still. I wish I coulda been there.”

Sebastian nodded, and the two men hugged. Sebastian loosened his grip, but Fen held the embrace for a bit longer. “I’m gonna miss you, man.”

“Same here, buddy.” They each took a step back. “I hear there’s a way to view players?”

Fen nodded.

“Maybe you can look in on me from time to time? I won’t know when you are, but I can pretend that I do.”

“We can have your favourite kind of chat. Where you do all the talking and I listen.”

“Ahh, that sense of humour. I shall miss it.” Sebastian smiled “And your wisdom.”

Sebastian stepped back and Aleron hugged Fen, saying his goodbye as well.

“I’d suggest heading back to your reality soon,” Kieran said.

Fen raised one eyebrow. “Did you just tell me to go kill myself?”

Kieran laughed. “I guess I did, yeah.”

Fen gave him a thumbs-up. “As soon as you all leave.”

Kieran faced the group. “I will need to summon a few portals since we all start from a different location.” He paused and looked at each of them. “Before the chaos starts, I want to say that it’s been an honour finally meeting you all. I am confident each of you will perform your task superbly. I’m so relieved that everything came together as well as it did.”

He summoned a portal and placed a hand on Aleron’s shoulder. “This one is yours, lad. In case this is our last time together, I wanted you to know how proud of you I am.”

“Thanks, Kieran. It’s been an honour to know you.” The young Scout smiled. “But I know you’ll kick the crap out of that godling and we’ll be celebrating over ale tonight.”

Kieran smiled. “I am sending you to a safe vantage point. Do not try and come closer to the battle. Your part in this occurs after she is gone.”

“I understand.” Aleron looked at the rest of the group and smiled. “Good luck, everyone. See ya when it’s done.”

Aleron stepped through the portal and disappeared. Kieran waited for a few seconds and closed it with a wave of his hand.

***

Aleron stepped out of the portal and frowned.

Instead of being high on the canyon where he could see the battle safely from above, as Kieran had promised, he found himself standing in front of the walled gate of the Scout outpost.

“Damn it. Kieran messed up and sent me here by mistake.”

He jogged to the gate, prepared to knock and have another Scout send him where he was supposed to be. He got closer and saw that the gate was partially open. He slipped through the gap and looked around.

The outpost was empty.

Chapter 61

Xyclotl screamed as he pivoted mid-air and brought the head of his axe crashing down into the skull of a giant bat. A spray of blood misted the air and covered his face as the dead creature fell from the sky, pulling the axe free as it fell away.

“Behind you!” Xander shouted before sweeping around to dispatch two orcs. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shard imp zip up a few feet and raise the handle of his axe in time to deflect the attack of another flying beast. Xander rolled to his left and half stood, using the momentum to stab a third orc in the throat. He turned to see Helias dispatch two more enemies with a single flash of his blade.

Looking back toward his imp, Xander saw that Xyclotl’s opponent was getting the upper hand. Somehow the imp had lost his axe and was flying in circles to stay out of attack range. Xander flung his hand outward and sent a thin rope of inky blackness flying through the air. It reached the flying rat, wrapped around the creature twice, and then tightened. The beast was cut in half and dropped toward the ground.

“Thanks!” Xyclotl shouted. He flew to the ground and plucked his axe from where it had landed, then flapped into the air and rejoined Xander.

“You’re doing well,” Xander said.

“Look at her.” The imp pointed and Xander turned. Helias was jogging toward them, laughing as the archon flew at his side. Celeste was moving her arms as she talked, obviously recounting a recent encounter. “She actually looks happy to be fighting.”

“Of course she is. Archons are warriors to their core. What’s the matter, Xy? This not as fun as you expected?”

“Shard imps are backstabbing sneaks to our core.” The imp shook his head. “Of course I’m not having fun. This is madness. I shoulda been killed during the first minute of battle! I can’t believe I’ve managed to stay alive this long. My luck can’t hold, pal. I’m done for soon, and she isn’t noticing a single freakin’ thing I do.”

Helias and Celeste reached them. “Isn’t this wonderful?” The archon’s eyes were filled with excitement as she smiled at Xyclotl.

The shard imp’s smile was so fake that Xander almost laughed out loud. “Absolutely! The blood and guts and everything splashing all over my face and body. I think I got a glob of bile in my mouth earlier.” He almost gagged, but squinted slightly and managed to maintain the grin. “It’s glorious.”

Helias surveyed the field ahead and nudged Xander. “She’s focused on the next group. Time for us to go again.”

Celeste clapped her hands together like a child on Christmas morning about to open presents. “Another wave! I wonder what she will send at us next?” she asked Xyclotl.

“Hopefully pillows,” he grumbled.

“What?”

His grin widened. “I said hopefully something with stingers and teeth. I can’t wait to be poisoned and eaten at the same time!”

Celeste laughed and drew her sword. “Come on, Xy. Let’s keep track of how many we each kill this time.”

Xyclotl’s eyes remained wide, but his smile dropped as he turned to face Xander. “Could this day get any better?”

Xander laughed and started jogging forward to keep pace with the paladin.

***

Sebastian floated in the air, easily able to keep both himself and Kieran afloat as they watched the godling’s progress in the field beyond.

“This is taking longer than I expected,” Sebastian said.

“She could certainly have co-operated better,” Kieran agreed. “But she’s close now.”

“The warriors pull her towards them, only to have a group pull her off the path.”

“That’s the way it has to be. Helias and Xander need time to clear the waves of monsters that she sends at them. If she was not distracted, they would have been overwhelmed and fallen long ago. Each group is doing their part. She will get to us soon.”

Sebastian glanced below. Scouts stood against the stone walls of the canyon, each an arm’s length from their neighbours. “Are your people ready?”

“More than ready. Don’t worry, when it’s time, the Scouts will do our part.”

“If I can do mine.”

“You can. I believe in you. We all do.”

Sebastian looked back to the field beyond.

***

The godling turned to face another group of soldiers. She raised one hand and began to gather her energy. Before she could fully summon her power, the group moved out of range and disappeared through an opening in the stone. The godling lowered her arm and followed them into the gap.

***

The soldiers entered the canyon, running as fast as they could towards the clearing in the middle.

The godling appeared a moment later. Her eyes focused on them, and she continued walking forward at a leisurely pace. Sebastian watched her look up, consider him, and then look back toward the soldiers without slowing.

Sebastian wanted to save the soldiers but knew that he could not.

The soldiers, knowing what was about to happen to them, did not waver. Half of the troops stepped forward, sank to one knee, and planted their shields against the ground. Behind the protective barrier, archers began to draw and loose their arrows in a steady stream. The missiles flew toward the godling and bounced away an instant before they touched her. She stopped, raised her hand and made a sweeping motion. Dark magic streamed toward the group. It should have turned the defenders to ash, but this time it bounced away. The wave of energy ceased and the godling cocked her head like an eagle considering its prey.

That’s right, Sebastian thought. Get closer and find out what’s wrong.

The godling walked closer, not stopping until she was less than a foot from the shields. She reached out and plucked the centre shield—an item that had been imbued with a special resistance by the Scouts— away from the soldier without any difficulty and held it up in front of her. The warriors attacked, weapons rising and falling but turning away at the last second as her personal barrier repelled every strike. The godling shrugged and discarded the shield over her shoulder. She raised her hand once more, and an instant later, there was a faint poof as the entire squadron evaporated in a puff of thick ash.

The godling glanced up at Sebastian. Her lips curled into a smile.

He knew that she was waiting for him to attack, but he didn’t.

Long seconds passed.

The godling began to raise her right hand. Before she could complete the gesture, a translucent, amber-tinged dome sparked into existence, buzzing like mist touching electrical wires as it surrounded her.

She touched it and pulled back immediately, her eyebrows furrowed in anger. She glared at Sebastian and pulled back both hands.

Sebastian reached out and grabbed handfuls of raw magical power that manifested as sapphire blue light. When his hands were full of the stuff, he threw it downward. He focused his concentration on keeping the gates open, and watched the river of magic flow through the air and cover the dome with a thin sheet of energy.

The godling pushed both arms forward. She touched nothing, but the dome flexed outward.

At the same time, pressure filled Sebastian’s skull. It felt like a thousand hurricanes pushing out, threatening to tear him into a billion pieces. He gritted his teeth and pushed back, his resolve strong. As the seconds passed, Sebastian heard cracking and breaking sounds. He knew that it was the bones of his skull cracking. He took a deep breath and summoned his will, using the energy to push back with all he had against the godling’s tremendous force.

Suddenly, rays of swirling white and black light flooded the canyon, striking the barrier from all sides. Sebastian felt the pressure lessen as the godling looked around her in surprise.

The swirling energy came from the Scouts, each man and woman standing tall with both arms stretched out in front of them, forefinger and thumb of both hands touching to form a triangle from which the energy materialized.

Sebastian watched, keeping his energy flowing to keep the barrier closed, as the power of the Scouts began to shrink the godling’s prison inward from all sides.

She frowned and lowered her hands.

The pressure in Sebastian’s head disappeared. It was gone so fast that he almost dropped his barrier. She looked up at him, smiled, and then struck with even more hatred and power than before.

Sebastian grunted, stumbling and falling to one knee, as if the air on which he stood was solid ground. Somehow he managed to protect his mind and keep the barrier up. The flow of sapphire magic wavered for a few seconds, but he returned it to full strength. He smiled. The dome continued to shrink, his energy keeping the godling trapped while the Scouts constricted her prison tighter as each second passed.

“Faster,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ve gotta go faster, Kieran.”

Ten seconds, Kieran’s voice sounded in his head. Keep her in there for ten seconds more and we win.

Sebastian laughed, a small part of him wondering if it was ten seconds from when Kieran started speaking or from when he ended. He tried to count, but had to commit one hundred percent of his concentration to keeping the barrier up and his mind intact.

The pressure inside his skull became unbearable, the cracking sounds more frequent and loud. He felt as if someone had parked an aircraft carrier on top of a tank and then placed the tank directly on his head. Just as he thought he could bear no more, the agony began to lessen.

Sebastian panicked, afraid that the pressure was still there but that his senses had become numb to it. If that were true, he would not be able to push back against a pain that he could no longer feel.

The godling smiled, as if sensing an advantage.

The numbness in Sebastian’s brain increased. The dome was pressed against her now, skin flaring and sparking as it melted from contact with the energy. She ignored it, her eyes locked on Sebastian as she unleashed everything she had to save herself.

Something inside Sebastian snapped.

He lost control and turned, frowning as the flow of energy became less intense. He felt weary and knew that he would be unconscious in seconds. His mind clawed and struggled, doing his best to hold onto control, but the flow of magic continued to slow.

And then it all ended. The weight lifted and the attack against his mind stopped. He gasped loudly and looked down in time to see the dome collapse as the godling was crushed flat against the earth and then out of existence altogether.

Sebastian felt a huge wave of relief sweep over him. The barrier and godling were gone. They had won.

He let loose an excited shout and waited for the beams coming from the Scouts to stop.

Long seconds passed and they continued. Then minutes.

The energy did not stop flowing.

He spotted Kieran. He floated down and stood on the ground behind him. “She’s gone, Kieran. We did it!”

Kieran remained still; frozen in place, arms stretched out, the beam of energy still spewing full force.

“You can stop now. She’s dead.”

The beams continued.

“Kieran?”

Sebastian frowned. Then he realized the truth of the matter. “You can’t stop, can you?” He thought he detected a glimmer of sadness in Kieran’s eyes. Sebastian felt tears form in his own. “Oh, Kieran. What have you all done?”

Chapter 62

Sebastian touched down in front of Helias and Xander. He noticed the shard imp and archon off to one side, obviously flirting with each other, judging by their body language and the amount of laughter. He felt a smile form on his lips and shook his head. Even in the face of total annihilation, love—or lust—did its best to continue on.

Xander followed his gaze and laughed. “It looks as if his plan worked. He almost died half a dozen times, but the guy gets the girl in the end.”

“Classic fairy tale.” Sebastian shook his head. “Not sure what the kids will look like.”

Helias laughed. “I certainly hope they take after their mother.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Is it done?” Xander asked.

“It is. The godling is gone.”

The paladin and Death Stryker smiled and nodded as one.

“Is there a body to dispose of?” Helias asked. “A corpse suggests the possibility of her being able to return somehow, which I do not like the thought of. Perhaps we could burn it.”

“There’s no body.” Sebastian described the battle and told them how the godling’s body had ultimately disintegrated into nothing.

“And the Scouts?” Helias asked.

“Dead.”

“How many?”

“All of them.”

“What?” Helias’s eyes widened. “That’s horrible.”

“Aye.”

“Besides the obvious sadness of losing such good and powerful allies—”

“How will anyone be able to level without them?” Sebastian finished the thought.

The men stood silently for a time.

“This will change everything.” Helias shook his head. “We may have saved the world, but without being able to level up, what kind of world did we save?”

“I am sure a solution will appear.”

“What makes you think that, Seb?” Xander asked.

“I’m an old man. Experience has taught me that a solution always appears.” He smiled and shook hands with each of the warriors. “Return to your chapter houses. I will visit both of you in the coming weeks.” He paused. “That is, if you intend to stay, Xander?”

Xander did not hesitate. “This is my home. Of course I will stay.”

“Good. Then I will visit you soon.”

Sebastian watched the warriors call to their familiars. The imp and archon took to the air and hovered above the holy and unholy fighters as they walked toward the far end of the field.

When they were out of sight, he rose into the air and flew back toward the canyon.

***

The Scouts were still frozen in place, powerful beams of light bleeding from their hands. Sebastian landed behind Kieran and stood at the man’s side. He placed a hand on the Scout’s shoulder. “I’ll wait here with you.”

***

Two hours later, the beams stopped. One second they were flowing at full power—hissing and crackling with energy—and the next moment they weren’t. The silence was interrupted once more a second later by a single thud as every Scout hit the ground at the exact same moment.

Sebastian bent to examine Kieran. The man was dead. A quick look at those nearby told him that they all were.

The wizard stood and surveyed the canyon. There was a black spot of grass where the godling had been. The perimeter was strewn with the still forms of the Scouts who had given their lives to save this world.

Sebastian floated into the air and hovered in the middle of the canyon. He held out his hands and summoned magic, using it to pull the rocks from the top of the canyon. Rocks tumbled down, dislodging others as they flew and causing a small rockslide. He slowly moved the beam of energy along the length of wall.

By the time he was finished, rocks covered the bodies of every Scout below.

“We will turn this spot into a memorial, Kieran. To honour the Scouts and the ultimate sacrifice each of you made.” Sebastian bowed his head and said a prayer that he remembered from younger days, when his mother had taken him to church.

Then he looked up, turned, and flew away.

Chapter 63

Helias reined his horse to a stop beside Xander’s. Mercy looked at them over her shoulder, scanning Helias up and down as if he was a soldier under her charge. “I will wait over there, Xander. Say your goodbyes and join me.” She flicked the reins and her horse began to walk.

Helias laughed. “It was fun adventuring with you too, Lady.”

“She can’t hear you.”

“That’s all right, I’m sure she feels the same way.” He winked. “Didn’t say farewell for fear of breaking down and crying.”

Xander laughed. “It was good to fight by your side.”

“Same here.” The two men clasped hands.

“Back home then, or off to adventure?”

Helias shrugged. “I’ll finish training Firth. He seems to have a knack for swinging the sword around. We’ll likely go on a few adventures to get him fine-tuned and in top fighting shape. After that, who knows? Something always comes up when you are a sword of Light.”

“Aye.”

“How ’bout you? Big plans on the horizon?”

“Not sure yet. I think I will take it one day at a time for a while. Enjoy myself for a change. Life’s been pretty busy lately. It couldn’t hurt to rest a bit.”

“We are still fused. I imagine we will run into each other again.”

“Sooner than later, if Xyclotl has anything to say about it.”

Helias laughed. “He will need to get bloody again if he hopes to hold the affection of Celeste.” He shook his head. “A fighting shard imp. I would have never imagined such a thing was possible.”

“No one is more surprised about it than the actual imp.”

Helias slapped Xander on the back. “Be well, brother.”

“Aye. You also.”

***

Mercy walked down the hall. Xander followed a step behind, talking as if she were actually interested in what he had to say. “—which is why I think it’s a good idea for us to take a few days, maybe a week, off.”

He waited for a response but none came.

“We’ve earned it, right? You said yourself, I am ahead in my training.”

“Your training is complete,” she spoke without turning to look at him.

“Really?”

“The initial stages. Your final exam was the players’ village.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You passed.”

He smiled but quickly wiped the expression from his face as they reached the doors.

The guards snapped to attention and saluted. Mercy returned the gesture.

“Is he in?”

“Yes, lady.” The guard opened one of the large doors and stepped to one side.

“Thank you, brother.” She nodded and the two Death Strykers entered the audience hall.

The Shard sat on his throne, a glass of red wine in one hand. “And yet again, the heroes return, victorious against the most dangerous and invincible foe that ever was.”

The Shard stood and walked to the table nearby. He selected two glasses and poured a measure of wine into each. Xander moved to sit, but Mercy shook her head and he remained standing.

The Shard frowned. “Sit. I would hear all the details of your adventure.”

“We will stand,” Mercy said.

The Shard’s smile became a glare. “I’m not asking. Sit down.”

Mercy did not move to obey.

The Shard sighed and set his glass on the table. “I knew this day was coming, Mercy. If I allow your little slight to go unanswered, then things will eventually build to a point where you cease to remain useful. I’m afraid that I simply cannot have that. You must remember your place, sister. And it would seem that a show of force is required.”

He turned toward the door. “Guards,” he shouted.

The door opened and the guards stepped into the room. The Shard pointed at Mercy and they came to stand on each side of her.

“Step away from her, Xander,” the Shard instructed.

Xander stepped forward so that he stood beside the Shard. The leader smiled. “Such a shame. I would have enjoyed a formal challenge. But that wasn’t something you could do, was it? I am more powerful than you. My shard is stronger.”

“You’ve always talked too much,” Mercy sniffed.

“What?” He laughed.

“Or maybe it’s that you are concerned only with yourself. Everything is about you, and that has slowly caused our chapter house to decline.”

“Enough talk.” The Shard’s face contorted in anger. “Guards—”

“Yes,” Mercy said. “Enough talk.”

The Shard’s eyes widened as an ebony blade coated in bright red blood sprang outward from his mouth.

The guards watched Xander push the dead man off his blade and onto the ground. Then they turned and knelt in front of Mercy.

Her head shook. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course they do,” Xander said. “Fealty must be shown in order to know that it is truly given.”

Mercy scowled, and Xander laughed. “You wanted the role, now you must accept it.”

“Fine,” she sighed, and the guards stood. “Dispose of the body and spread the word. We will perform my dedication ceremony a week from today, at midnight. All who wish to remain in the fold will be present.”

The guards nodded and bent to grab the Shard’s body. They dragged it out through a side door in the chamber.

“That went easier than I thought,” Xander said.

“It’s been coming for a while. Training you forced me to put a hold on things, but now that I have finished with that, it is time to tackle this.” She sat and poured wine into the two glasses.

“What’s next for me?” Xander accepted a glass.

“A ceremony making you a full-fledged Death Stryker, with all the rights and privileges that come with it.” She raised her glass. “And then I put you to work.”

“Raising hell for the Dark Lady?”

“With the powerful gifts you wield in her name?” Mercy smiled. “Absolutely.”

Chapter 64

Aleron opened the door to Kieran’s office and stepped inside. He walked around the room, examining things more closely than he ever could when the Master Scout was present. When he scanned the desk, he noticed the envelope resting there.

It was addressed to Aleron.

Aleron pulled the chair out and sat. Then he opened the letter and began to read.

Aleron,

I know it sounds cliché, but by the time you read this I will be dead.

Aleron felt a stab of sadness.

As you will have also discovered, everyone else is missing from the keep. I hope you’re sitting down, because I have a bit of serious news to share.

You are now the only living Scout in Preu Treya.

Aleron looked up from the letter. A wave of something swept over him. It was a combination of sadness, nervousness, and fear.

Don’t be frightened. I know that is the most natural feeling to have at this moment, but don’t. The good news is that you will not be alone forever. Young NPCs are being born with the talent to become a Scout even as I write this. Your job is to find them, train them, and help the Scout Class return to the world.

Yes, at first the absence of our services will cause issues. People have become lazy these past two hundred years. They came to us and we levelled them. But adventurers levelled before that, prior to Scouts walking the land. Do the best you can, and encourage the people to discover the old ways.

One of the side effects of fewer individuals who can level others is that people will slow down and focus on other aspects of life. It wouldn’t hurt to build better cities, live and enjoy each other, dance and sing a little. I know. Many will not agree, but it is your job to encourage them to do so.

There’s more to life than levelling.

I hope that people can remember that truth.

As for the keep, it’s yours. So is the treasure and artifacts that we have collected over the years. I have left a series of books that detail every location of a Scout stronghold or treasure area. Spend some time and get to know that inventory. I am sure you will put it to good use.

And that’s about it. It was great to meet you. It was amazing to be able to live for centuries inside the game we dreamed about as kids. I don’t know if I’ve gone to another adventure or if this is it. Either way, I have no regrets.

Live your life the same way, Aleron, and all will be good.

Your friend,

Kieran

Aleron read the letter once more.

Then, he set it on the desk and leaned back in the chair.

“Well,” he said. “Looks like I won’t get bored any time soon.”

Chapter 65

Six Months Later

In other news, ARC Gaming Industries is closing its doors today. The once popular game maker overextended itself fiscally when it tried to develop the world’s first FIVR (fully immersive virtual reality) game, Blades VR.

The company spent a considerable sum of money developing Blades VR and, for a while, it looked as if the bold move would succeed. But serious issues identified during beta testing that could not be corrected caused the company to file for bankruptcy a few weeks ago.

When asked if he would do anything differently, President and CEO Isaac Chase replied that the company learned a great deal from the endeavour and had no regrets. Rumours are already popping up that Chase will gather another round of funding and attempt to try again under a different corporate name.

Having come so close, many industry experts believe that Chase’s next venture has an excellent chance of succeeding.

Gamer’s Roll Call — Tracy Halpert reporting

Jeremy Granger opened the door and stood to one side. “After you, my lady.”

Shale entered the room, eyes wide. “Oh, wow. There it is.”

Jeremy closed the door and came to stand beside her. “There it is.”

They stared through the window that made up the entire far wall. Beyond was a clean room filled with computer hard drives and gadgetry. There were desks located throughout the area with computer technicians staring at monitors and typing on keyboards.

Shale walked to the window. “A quantum computer.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s huge.”

Jeremy laughed and pointed. “Actually, it’s kinda small. See that tiny area over there?”

“The part that looks like a walk-in freezer?”

“That’s right. The actual quantum hard drive is inside that little room. All the other equipment is peripheral. Monitors, traditional hard drives to deliver commands, analyze feedback, queue functions. Boring stuff.”

Shale laughed. “The little room is the brains, but the entire huge room is required to run it all, right?”

“Yep. Come grab a seat. I had some tea made for us.”

They moved to a corner of the office and sat in rich leather chairs. Jeremy leaned forward and poured two cups of tea from an ornate china pot.

“That teapot looks expensive.”

“It’s from some dynasty in China. Couple thousand years old or so.” Jeremy winked and handed her a cup. “Makes the tea taste better, if you ask me.”

Shale laughed and raised the cup to her lips. She sniffed and then took a sip. “You know, I think it actually does.”

Jeremy smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“How did this happen again?”

“Before Isaac shut his original world server down, I let him know that I had made a backup a few weeks prior.”

“Was he mad?”

“Not at that point. He’s a bit different since his encounter with Xander. You know, before he exited the game.”

“I heard about that. Is he okay?”

“Yes. Not really…but I think he will be. Anyway, he was happy that I had created a mirror server. I hired some of his lead people—they were looking for jobs anyway—and then they made sure that what was here matched their system.”

“And it did?”

“Perfectly. Blades VR was officially shut down, but the entire world lives on in the room behind us.”

“We can’t go in, though?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Not until we can fix the mortality issue.”

Shale laughed. “Mortality issue. Makes it sound like a minor problem.”

“I was calling it the ‘kills people randomly’ issue, but that didn’t go over well.” He grinned and took another sip of tea.

“Do you think we ever will? Fix the mortality issue?”

“I’m committed to trying.” He shook his head. “Sadly, the more we learn, the more we realize how serious a problem it really is. In the end we might have had a chance to immerse ourselves in Blades VR not because we are smart, but because we were too stupid to see the dangers at the beginning.”

Shale sighed. “That’s a shame. It was so fun.”

“It really was.”

“How are the boys doing? Inside.”

“Alive and well. Aleron is roaming the land, meeting with the different races to teach them how to live without the presence of Scouts. Xander is being a very good Death Stryker, which means he is being very bad.” Jeremy laughed. “And Seb is laying low at the moment, living a boring life. Although he isn’t technically alive, being a lich and all.”

“If you get technical enough, none of them are.”

“That’s true.” Jeremy laughed.

“You know, there’s one thing about this whole adventure that I still don’t get,” Shale said.

“What’s that?”

“The original Scouts. They claimed to be from Earth, yet they arrived two hundred or so years earlier than we did. How is something like that even possible?”

“I looked into that and I’m positive that it wasn’t possible. The only conclusion that makes sense is that the Scouts were NPCs just like all the others.”

“They didn’t act like it. They knew about our world. And they were more powerful than anyone else.”

“All of that could be accomplished by coding them to behave that way.” Fen smiled. “I think Sebastian programmed the Scouts to believe that they were from Earth; that they came to Preu Treya hundreds of years earlier and waited for us to get there.”

“Hmm. I guess that does make the most sense.”

“It added a kick-ass element to the game, though, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Shale considered the explanation and nodded. “It really did.”

“Disappointed?”

“Not at all. Like you said, they added a huge amount of fun and realism to the game and storylines. Hats off to Seb for coming up with such a cool twist, and playing along with it.”

“He always loved being the Lore Master, according to Isaac.” Fen took another sip of tea. “You’ve gotten the tour and seen what I’ve been up to. How ’bout you, Shale? What are your plans?”

“Gaming and school. Although the gaming isn’t as fun anymore without Aleron.”

“And after you graduate?”

“I’ll likely go to work at my dad’s company.”

“Nanotech, right?”

She nodded.

“Sounds exciting.”

“Sounds that way, yes. But it’s actually kinda boring.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks, Fen.”

He chuckled. “So what do you think? Are you interested in a summer internship here?”

Shale’s grin widened. “Working with you for a few months? Absolutely.”

“That’s great. I’m excited to have you with us. I’m sure we can teach you some awesome things.”

“I have no doubt you can. And who knows?” She looked past him at the Blades computer system. “Maybe I’ll help discover a way to allow us to go back to Preu Treya someday.”

Epilogue

The three dice tumbled across the desk and came to a stop. The boy looked up and laughed. “Three sixes. Eighteen on my first roll, Mr. Fischer!”

Mr. Fischer smiled but raised one hand and waggled a finger. “What’s the rule about using our mundane names?”

“Sorry, Lore Master. I forgot.”

“Come on, man.” His older brother jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. “You’ve been here for less than an hour and already you’re forgetting the rules?”

“It is his first time with us, Gorm,” Mr. Fischer smiled. “That’s why we mix rookie players with veterans such as yourself. To help us all learn and assimilate well.”

The boy smiled. He had been looking forward to this moment since his brother had come home two years ago and announced that he’d been accepted into one of Mr. Fischer’s Blades of Verchinor role-playing groups. The grade six teacher had been running these games for so long that being invited to play had become a rite of passage among many teenagers in town. The boy had listened carefully each time his brother came home and recounted the adventures he and his group would have. The wait had felt long, but now he was finally old enough to join himself.

“Write the score down, lad.” Mr. Fischer opened the player’s guidebook and pushed it across the desk. “Check the tables and copy these stats: encumbrance, plusses to hit, and armour class adjustment beside the eighteen.”

He found the familiar charts—this wasn’t his first time playing Blades of Verchinor—and began to write them down.

“Did you hear the bad news?” Gorm asked the teacher. “ARC Gaming went out of business yesterday.”

“I heard,” the teacher nodded.

“Apparently Blades VR wasn’t one hundred percent safe, or something like that, and they couldn’t figure out how to fix it.”

“I’m sure it was one hundred percent safe, Gorm, but games like that need to be more than perfect. It’s called a safety factor. The designers likely wanted it to be one hundred and thirty percent safe.”

“Think anyone died during beta testing?”

“I’m sure no one died. My guess is that the beta testing revealed safety issues that were simply outside acceptable safety limits.”

“Yeah, you’re likely right. Still, it’s a bummer that we aren’t gonna be able to play. I was really looking forward to a FIVR Blades game.”

The teacher laughed. “Don’t worry. I guarantee you that a fully immersive virtual reality version of Blades will exist within the next few years.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.” Mr. Fischer turned to the boy. “How are you doing, nameless one? Looks like you’re finished copying the stats?”

“I am, Lore Master.”

“Excellent.” The teacher pulled the character sheet close and skimmed the contents. Then he pushed it back. “Write your character name on the top. Remember, your first name is what we will call you during your entire time with us. You will play many characters and give them all different names, but the first one is your name in this room during play time.”

The boy nodded and began to write the name that he had chosen.

Mr. Fischer looked past the brothers to the five other kids sitting at the large playing table. “Ladies and gentlemen.” The kids looked at their teacher. “It is time to welcome our newest player. Please stand for the naming ceremony.”

The players stood, solemn expressions on their faces, hands behind their backs. Mr. Fischer stood, picked up the new character sheet, and nodded. The boy and his brother followed the teacher to the long rectangular table at the back of the room and stood in front of the two vacant chairs on one side.

No longer a teacher, but a Lore Master playing his role, the man took his place at the head of the table. “We are gathered to welcome our newest member for the Tuesday night campaign group. You all know his brother, Gorm. I am certain this new,” he paused and looked down at the character sheet, “Crafter, will make an excellent addition to our party.” He handed the character sheet to the boy. “And now, please welcome…” The Lore Master nodded.

The boy smiled. He looked at his brother, took a deep breath, and spoke. “Kieran. My name is Kieran.”

This Concludes the Blades VR Trilogy

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The Crumbs

I’ve always been nuts about reading and games.

I have read a ton of books in many genres, but fantasy was my go to.

For as long as I can remember I’ve dreamed of being able to enter a reality of swords and sorcery, wielding magic and a blade as I adventure through wondrous new lands filled with strange races and monsters.

I played Dungeons and Dragons as a kid and even returned to playing when I was in my twenties and found a new group of guys still sitting around the table once a week throwing dice and dungeon crawling with pencil and paper.

Then I heard about a new game called Everquest.

Look it up on Youtube today and it is unimpressive. Blocky polygon graphics, sparse effects and flora spread throughout the game environment, wooden animation of the avatars.

But when it first came out, Everquest was the closest anyone had ever come to creating a visual fantasy world that people could immerse themselves in, and it was incredible.

I spent a lot of time living in that virtual world. A few years later I left Everquest and began to play World of Warcraft. The graphics, characters, systems, blew me away.

As I logged into that world I remember thinking, ‘Imagine if someday virtual reality exists and we could fully enter such a place.”

And then this came to mind immediately. ‘If that were possible, I don’t think I would ever want to come back to the real world.”

That’s where the concept for Blades VR was first conceived in my head.

Writing this trilogy was an attempt to show you what will likely be possible in my lifetime (fingers crossed) and to hopefully convey how cool such a thing will be.

Hope you enjoyed the ride.

I appreciate that you tagged along.

Terry

Acknowledgements

If you enjoyed this series—especially books two and three—then join me in thanking my writer best friend, Shawn Inmon. He was the biggest fan of this series, and he deserves a huge round of applause for campaigning to have me keep writing. Thanks Shawn, I am thrilled that some small part of me listened and somehow drowned out the larger whining part which considered stopping after book one.

Doreen Martens edited this one and I think she did a great job. Sometimes editors get a bit ticked off with me because I use non-American English. Doreen had no problem with this and made sure I added those extra letters where required along the journey. Thanks, Doreen. Can’t wait to work with you again on the next project.

If you find typos in this book, it’s not because I like them and decided to leave them in. Its also not because we didn’t try real hard to find and destroy each and every one of those hateful things. Big thanks to Leah Brown, Shawn Inmon, and Kerri Lookabaugh. You all volunteered for what I consider to be a thankless, horrible, gruelling job, and I am extremely grateful that you did. I know that a lot of tricky typos died horrible (and justified) deaths thanks to you rooting them out and exposing their evil presence.

Debra Galvan is a fan of reading who also possesses an uncanny ability to proofread and find errors no matter how small. Here’s an example. “Extra space between the apostrophe and u in you’re”. To have your eyes flick over tens of thousands of words and still be able to pick tiny discrepancies out is very impressive. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a super power. Yet that’s exactly what this lady does and I am sincerely grateful that she did it for this book. Thanks again for your help, Debra, I appreciate it!

If you enjoyed Raid, please consider leaving a short review to say so. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but that’s how many readers decide on what to download next and I would be forever in your debt if you would leave a review for this and any of my books that you liked.

Terry

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Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Epilogue
- The Crumbs
- Acknowledgements

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