“I’m never on the side of people who behave the way you do.”
“So unbending. But I appreciate your moral clarity, I must admit.”
I shrug, then walk back over to the cell’s bunk, sitting down. “You know what I want. I hope your conscience will tell you to do the right thing. But I’m tired, and I’m not going to discuss it all evening.”
She shrugs. “Then I hope I can persuade Connor to let you go. Or get hold of a key.”
“If not, I will find him and kick his ass in the real world.”
She smiles slightly. “That’s the spirit.”
With that, she turns and leaves the room.
I lean back on the bunk, feeling a moment of righteous anger. On one level, I am certainly pleased that I am not just about to be handed over to the Knights of Dawn. But there is no excuse for his treatment of my friend.
One of the thugs comes into the room every so often, watches us briefly, and then leaves again. I spend some time figuring out their routines and timings. But before long, it starts to feel like nobody is going to come back in. Perhaps they have taken a break or forgotten about us. Or maybe something more urgent came up.
If so, how long will Daria be stuck here?
I lie down on the bunk again, and stare towards the side wall. Things are looking bleak. Where are Coruff and van Turk now? Are they safe? Is there any chance they could figure out where we are? Or might they leave town before we find a way to get out?
* * *
After around half an hour, I summon up the motivation to look around the cell. It is very bare, but hey, I’m a crafter – I can make stuff out of next to nothing.
The bunk is basic, but its wooden legs are detachable without rendering it useless. The floor is also bare, but I do find a palm-sized piece of rock in one corner. I pick it up and turn it over in my hand a couple of times. One of its edges is sharp enough to be useful.
Increase in skill level: Perception level 15 (Spirit +3)
As I am hunting around, Zakira comes through again, this time holding my backpack and weapons. She lifts them up, looking at me, then puts them down against the far wall of the chamber outside, and turns around towards me.
“Your things,” she says, gesturing. “I wanted you to know that we’re not the sort of people who would keep that, or go through it.”
“Let me go.” I notice that she now has a key at her belt.
“I’d really like to chat to you, Lucy.”
I roll my eyes. “Get your master to release me, and perhaps we can go for a drink.”
She smiles at my sarcasm, walking forward and offering her hand through the bars. “That sounds nice. But Connor’s not my master, he’s my boss. I work for his coding company.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I come over and shake her hand. “He’s wrong, you know,” I say. “I have a plan to leave, and if you guys hadn’t interfered, my friends and I would be on our way. We’ve evaded the Knights of Dawn before, and we can do so again.”
“And what was your plan?” she asks.
I hesitate, wanting to sound convincing, but wishing to conceal the movements of the coven where possible. “I was on my way to the Great Swamp,” I say, “and from there to give my aid to the lizard folk and protect them from the Imperial forces.”
“Forget the lizards,” says Zakira curtly. “Connor wants you to go to Katresburg, the oldest city of the province. That is where the rebellion is brewing, and it’s where the Emperor’s attention will be focused after the Confederacy falls… which is now only a matter of time, thanks to the Dubasan mercenaries he has employed.”
“Look, I hear what you are saying. But I’m not playing ball with Connor. I don’t like having a knife put to my throat, physically or metaphorically. If he wanted to work together, he should have asked nicely.”
Zakira nods, then leans forward, both of her hands now on bars of the cell door. I glance down at the stone in my hand. “Look,” she persists. “Give me five minutes. Please. I’ll come into your cell, no tricks, and we can talk one-on-one. Just two players together. A meeting of minds, I hope. And if you still hate me after that, fine. I’ll accept it and leave you alone. Deal?”
“I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want you speak to Connor and persuade him to let us go free.”
“Also agreed, at least as far as I am able.”
I hesitate. “Really?”
In that case, I think to myself, what’s to lose in hearing her out? She was the first monitor in the game. Perhaps she’s being honest when she says that she wants what’s best for Shadow Kingdoms.
Or perhaps I am being a fool.
With a slight shrug, I agree to step back from the door; she unlocks it, enters, then locks it behind her again.
“I know you’re good in a fight,” she says, pocketing the key. “But I’m better – my character is an assassin. So please don’t try – I don’t want to have to use these knives on you.” With this, she winks, and sits down on the bunk, facing me cross legged.
I too sit down on the bunk, perching on the edge, and look around at her, expectantly.
“I was blown away to hear what you did, you know…?” she says.
“Ok. Thanks, I guess.”
“Daria, I don’t think you understand what a big deal it is to take down one of the Knights of Dawn. They have hunted as a team, killing one player after another, and murdering for pleasure.”
“Sure. But it was mainly luck.”
“Right.” She glances around the room, silent for a moment.
“Listen, Zakira,” I say. “Can I ask something? I don’t understand why you would get rid of a high-level character that you had. Couldn’t you just have hidden somehow?”
“Well, I was a shadow monitor, but after PreacherKorp tried to get rid of us, I found myself stuck in the game. Very much like yourself, I believe.”
“You were?” I say. “I didn’t realize anyone else was…” I shrug. What did I think? No wonder Connor was so interested in me. If he and Zakira are…
“Anyway,” she continued, “after the Empire crushed the monitors, it wasn’t looking good for me, and I would have just been pursued endlessly like the others. And so,” she pauses, and points towards herself, “I rolled up a new character. I hope you like her.”
“Well,” I mutter, rolling my eyes again. “I was getting really fond of her around the time you kidnapped me and my friend.”
“Again, I am sorry,” says Zakira, smiling slightly. “But we really needed to speak to you in a secure location, and preferably without the NPCs listening. I wish I’d met you under better conditions, but so be it.” She pauses, looking me up and down. “Look, where are you accessing the game from?”
“Huh?”
“I just wanted to check – how safe are you in the real world. Are you logging in from home?”
“No. At the college,” I say, and then curse myself quietly. Have I been played? Is this what it was about – finding out compromising information on me in order to force me to comply?
But I don’t get that feeling from her reaction. She stands, staring at me with a look of dismay across her face. “What? That isn’t safe at all.”
“It’s empty. And usually I’m guarded. Sort of.”
I must sound naïve indeed; she stares at me for a moment, her mouth moving silently, and then nods. “You have done really well, Lucy. But you must remember, your enemies in the game can track you down in the real world too, and they have enormous resources. You are in danger where you are.”
She moves towards the door, pulls out the key, and turns briefly to look back at the bunk. “They came after me, too. I had to hide, and I only access the game from the Viperstar offices now. Security. I recommend that you do the same. At least until we can win this fight.”
I keep my word and let her leave without trying to fight her for the key; if she’s been in this game as long as it sounds, I don’t think I’d have much chance in a combat situation. I’m still only
level 2, a journeyman, and an assassin is going to be better with a knife than I am. And if my own experience to go by, any weapon skills that Zakira had in her old shadow-level character will have transferred over, thanks to the Kjatari implant.
Anyway, despite my brave words, she has freaked me out with her comments about my real-world safety. Is it really possible that PreacherKorp agents could be after me?
Feeling tense and angry in equal measure, I stomp around the cell for a few minutes, thinking, and staring at my possessions outside the bars. If only there was some way to get my stuff… but Zakira has left it just out of my reach.
I am still holding the stone, and I have a close look at the lock. The stone is clearly too large to be of use, but if I could whittle something smaller…
Returning to the bunk, I crouch down and remove one of the legs of the bunk via a firm tug. It comes away with a snapping sound, as the wood breaks clear of the nail. It’s a decent piece of timber, actually – hard to say what kind, but it is strong with just a hint of suppleness.
I look up at my backpack again. If I could get something long enough to reach it, I could get out my crafter’s tools, and – I feel sure – use those to pick the lock.
Looking down again at the bunk, I lift the thin horsehair mattress to look at the frame. It’s metal, unfortunately, and too strong to break. But the cross spars are wooden. They are too short… but I am suddenly reminded of a story about a zoo chimpanzee who figured out how to join together a pair of poles in order to reach a banana that was outside his enclosure…
Before long I am working again at the two pieces of timber. If I can whittle the ends such that the two lock in place together, I think I could use it to reach my equipment. I sit down, working at them. It’s not easy to carve as the wood of the cross spars is of poorer quality, but this is my stock in trade. I’m hopeful that it might work, and perhaps the task will be good for a level of crafting.
After I’ve been working away for a few minutes, Zakira’s words again ringing around inside my head, I feel a strong urge to get out of the college building, and get home. And so I hit semi-immersive mode, leaving Daria sitting in the cell, whittling away at the broken-off pieces from the bunk with her back to the cell door.
Rising, I stretch my limbs and stand. I feel ok, though hungry again, and I realize that it’s late now, late on Sunday evening. My uncle knew I’d be away last night, but I should now be getting home before he worries about me too much.
I walk towards the lab door, reminding myself that I’m alone; I sent Kashif home yesterday, and the college is likely to be deserted now.
But just at that moment, someone tries the door handle from the outside
It’s still locked, but my heart is racing now… what did Zakira say about me being easy to find?
Chapter 21: Threatened
I back away, stepping as lightly as I can, then look behind me to make sure that I am not about to bash into a desk and make a noise.
The door is locked. That is something. But if there really are enemies outside, then I need to avoid their finding out that I am in here.
I can hear voices now. There must be at least two people. I am tempted to call out Kashif’s name, in case he has come back for me. But if it’s in fact an enemy outside, then doing so could be incredibly dangerous. I just have to hope that they have no inkling where exactly I am.
Turning, I move over towards the window. I still feel a little disorientated from my time in game, and I can still see the Shadow Kingdoms overlay, with the cell and the crafting that I am doing. At some point I will need to divide my attention, hiding my handiwork if anyone comes in. But for now, I just need to focus on getting out of here alive.
At least this room is on the ground level. I push gently at the window, and then reach up to a little round metal catch which is designed to twist to release it. It’s the same kind of catch as is found in most classrooms in the college, and I know what to do.
I also know that the windows are designed not to open by more than about three inches. Safety regulations, I guess.
I twist the catch, wincing at the scraping noise that it makes. I then reach down to hook my fingers under two bronze-colored loops of metal at the base of the window, and tug hard to pull it up. But it moves much more freely than I was expecting, sliding up rapidly and banging loudly as it hits the inbuilt blocks which stop it from sliding all the way up.
There is silence from outside, and then I hear a shout and running feet.
Damn.
Looking at the blocks which prevent the window from opening properly, I suddenly wish I was Daria with her crafting skill. I cast around the tiny office, then pick up a stapler from a desk, twisting it all the way open. Perhaps I can use its base to lever off the blocks…
I start to work the metal base of the stapler under the block and move it from side to side. The piece is coming loose. Almost without having to think about it, I ping the staples out of the cartridge so that I can hold the makeshift tool more firmly, and rock the window slightly in order to boost the leverage. Of course, I say to myself. I can use Daria’s skill in the real world.
I get the first block off and catch it neatly before it falls to the ground.
That was close.
I start on the second one and begin to make progress. But now there are footsteps outside. A loud voice says, “Anyone in there?”, knocking loudly at the same time. An unfamiliar male voice.
I am sweating now, as I work at the second block. Can they hear me? If I was them, I’d be listening at the door about now. But I can’t do this work in silence. I raise one knee, using it to brace the window so that I can rock it and increase the leverage. And after what feels like a painfully long time – surely longer than the first one – the block falls free.
This time I don’t even bother to catch it; I’m too busy sliding the window up to the top. Almost at the same time, I hear a bang as someone kicks at the door to the little office.
But inside a second I am outside and slamming the window shut. I sprint into a small cluster of trees, and from there get my bearings. I am near a staff carpark, here, and although it is largely deserted, I know that it adjoins the main carpark… I think that if I can get that way, I can get to my own car, and away.
I look back. There is a figure at the window. A man wearing a dark suit, dark shirt and no tie. He could easily pass for a college lecturer, though I don’t recognise him. There is a street light to my right, and I can see his face, but I am fairly sure he can’t see me. He pushes the window all the way up, and leans right out, then turns. I hear him speak to himself inside the building.
At that moment, I am already running, and I don’t stop until I reach my car.
* * *
“Someone came looking for you,” says my uncle, just moments after I am inside the house. “A guy in a suit. I wondered if it was a teacher of yours, perhaps?”
I shrug, but a deep chill runs through me. Here, too? My family…
“I hope you are not in trouble,” he adds. “After what you’ve been through, they need to show a bit of understanding.”
“Look, Uncle Roy,” I say, stepping closer and taking his hand. “This may sound weird, but please don’t give anyone information about me if they come here. There are some weirdos who have read about me in the news. Just tell them I don’t live at home any more and tell them to email the college if they need to get in touch. All right?”
He hesitates, scrutinising my face, and then nods. “Very well, Lucy.”
“It’s half true, anyway. I am thinking of renting a room in a shared place with my classmate Kashif. We are going to look at a flat in town tomorrow. There are no classes on, so we have a free day.”
“You need me to come along? Some landlords will take advantage of students, given half a chance.”
I shake my head. “Thanks. But you’ve got enough to do with the kids.”
He pauses, and then nods. “All right, then.”
It�
�s clear to me that I need to find somewhere that I’m going to be anonymous. Hidden. I double check all the locks on the doors and windows in the house and then spend a long time gazing out from the darkened window of my own room. My car is parked several streets away – a ruse that might be of some use, though probably not.
I briefly consider the fact that I told Zakira that I was logging on from college just a short while before being pursued there. Could she have told Connor, who then sent the goons? But Shadow Kingdoms operates in real time, and surely there wasn’t time for her to have betrayed me. Whoever was looking for me must have already been in the building. It was Zakira’s warning that allowed me to get away just in time.
I just have to hope that whoever is behind this, they are not desperate enough for a home invasion. Not yet, anyway.
The next morning I eat early. I’ve been sleeping in game, too, but my captors do leave some food just outside the bars. It appears that I am still being left to my own devices, and soon I am once again working at the wooden poles. I have also received another notification:
Increase in skill level: Crafting level 34 (Dexterity +17)
A part of me wonders whether my work on the window last night might have contributed to that skill increase, or if it was purely down to crafting my improvised tool in the cell… but there is no way of knowing.
I move over towards the front of the cell, trying my best to peer around the front, but of course I cannot; the angle of the cell front means that I can’t see Lugg’s cell, or the main area where we were brought in.
“Lugg?” I call gently.
I hear a rustling noise and then a grunt. “Miss Daria?”
“Yes, it’s me,” I reply softly. It’s so good to hear his voice, but I still want to be careful. “You were out cold, Lugg. Is your head feeling all right?”
The Call of the Coven: A LitRPG novel (Shadow Kingdoms Book 2) Page 14