City of the Dead

by Vasily Mahanenko

  Suddenly, Tailyn heard the sound of rocks falling. He froze, straining his ears. While the city of the ancients had long since been explored from one end to the other, weirdos occasionally did show up to see if they could find something valuable.

  “Careful!” called Dort’s annoyed voice. Tailyn pressed himself against the rocks in an effort to disappear. It was a good thing he’d gotten as high as he did—the elder’s son never traveled alone, and if his guards caught Tailyn, he would be in for a beating. Just to make sure he didn’t spy on them. They’d even take his flowers, which meant he needed to stay quiet and hope they didn’t notice him.

  “What’s he doing here?” one of the guards boomed. A boy of sixteen, Meron’s voice had just started to change, making it easily recognizable.

  “None of our business,” Dort shot back, and Tailyn practically stopped breathing. The elder’s son was usually polite to his own. But something had happened, he was nervous, and that intrigued the boy hiding among the rocks.

  “Hey, you little ruffians, I’m over here!” an adult voice shouted. Taking a risk, Tailyn poked his head up. Just a bit below where he was hiding, there was a man who definitely wasn’t a local. His bonus clothing gave that away instantly. Only Master Isor and Mistress Valanil had access to them, and the voice didn’t belong to either. Tailyn’s stomach tightened—a stranger had shown up in their valley. Did the elder know? What was he doing there?

  The hood pulled low over the stranger’s face kept it hidden. Soon enough, Dort appeared riding on Meron’s back. Climbing up the rocks was apparently too great a humiliation for the elder’s magnificent son, though he was annoyed with how the big lunk kept losing his footing.

  “We agreed you’d come alone!” the man snarled rudely. Dort begrudgingly climbed down and gestured for Meron to head back where they’d come from. The latter was only too happy to beat a hasty retreat.

  “Did you bring them?”

  “Father told me to take a look at the goods first,” Dort replied. “That was the deal.”

  “Go for it.” The stranger pulled his cloak open; Dort gasped. Tailyn’s curiosity skyrocketed. “Good enough?”

  “Y-yes.” The elder’s son had even developed a bit of a stutter. “H-how many do you have?”

  “Plenty. What about the crystals? How many did you bring?”

  “F-five. Here, l-look.”

  Tailyn’s eyes grew wide as saucers when the warm blue light bathed the area. Dort was holding its source in his hands—a translucent crystal. Just owning one was tantamount to treason, a crime punished by death with no chance for appeal.

  “Just five?” the stranger asked, dissatisfaction tingeing his voice. “Why so few?”

  “They’re c-closely monitored,” Dort replied, though he was quickly interrupted.

  “The deal was for ten!”

  “You’ll have the other f-five in a month.”

  “And that’s when you’ll get the goods! But I’ll take these five now.”

  “What?! No!” Dort exclaimed as he hid the crystals in his pocket, though the man’s arm shot forward in response. A rope snaked its way around the boy’s neck. The stranger was holding the other end, and a jerk pulled Dort over to him. Unable to breathe, the boy wheezed. Cold metal flashed.

  “Either you hand them over nicely, or I pick them off your dead body.” The heavy voice boded nothing good. Sweeping along Dort’s leg, the dagger blade left a long bloody streak—the boy’s entire protection was gone just like that. He squealed like a pig and tried to pull away, but the man was holding him too tightly for that.

  “You have five seconds to… What was that? You were followed?!”

  Tailyn’s stomach sank. In an effort to see just a little more, he’d leaned forward slightly and accidentally knocked a pebble off the edge of the ridge. And while it may have been small enough to be barely noticeable, the sound it made as it hit the ground was like rolling thunder. The stranger whirled around, and the boy practically hiccupped in horror when he realized he’d been spotted. Jerking Dort closer, the man growled into his face.

  “The crystals! Now!”

  The elder’s son squeaked inarticulately as the space around them was once more bathed in blue light. The stranger grabbed the crystals and squeezed his fist closed. Something snapped, and Dort’s body twisted in agony, thrown to the side as the man dashed up the ridge without even taking the time to check the boy’s inventory. He couldn’t let anyone see him there. There would be time to deal with the idiot who came with the elder’s son later—in the meantime, he had to deal with the spy.

  Dropping the crystals into his inventory, the man began clambering up the rocks. And while his whip remained ready to pull back anyone he found, there was nobody to be seen. He leaped up onto the ridge, looked around, and cursed quietly. Someone had definitely been lying there. Not long before, even. But while the man didn’t have any tracker skills, he didn’t need them to figure out which way the spy had dashed off. He set off running into the heart of the dead city, finding the spy his only option.

  Tailyn ran senselessly. All he could see was Dorn lying broken on the rocks. Behind him, something hissed, and he ducked just in time, a snap above his head eliciting a cloud of rock dust. Sweeping straight through the stone, the tip of the magic rope left a deep furrow behind it. Just a little lower…

  That kind of fear had never gripped Tailyn. His reason out the window, he was left nothing more than an animal fighting for its life. He slipped, his body hit the ground, and that was when he heard the next hiss—with another cloud of rock dust, the whip cracked directly above him. His pursuer was barely an arm’s length away.

  “Stop right there!” yelled the stranger practically in the boy’s ear. Crazed by fear, Tailyn leaped toward some thorn bushes, and the man’s swing came up empty. He cursed and unfurled his whip yet again. It was time for the final blow. The boy, a nimble little lizard that kept squirting out of his grasp, needed to be destroyed. Nobody could know that a crystal fence had been in the area.

  The whip stretched toward its victim and…wrapped itself one more time around nothing but air.

  Tailyn could only see what was happening directly in front of him—his peripheral vision was gone. His hearing was, too. The world was a place bereft of sensations, fear having taken complete control of his body. All he could do was run. Straight ahead. Straight—

  The area where the thorn bushes were growing looked firm enough, only looked was the key word. Before he’d taken two steps, Tailyn felt the stone give way beneath his feet. The fear kept him running, unable to swing his arms, but there was nothing left in front of him. It was empty space. Tailyn was hurtling downward, not even noticing the whip’s last futile attempt to grasp hold of him.

  Darkness and uncertainty came up to meet him.

  Hitting the ground practically did Tailyn in. His head spun, and he saw stars, but his shield held up. Landing on an earthen mound, he tumbled down the incline. And with his crazed mind still pushing him to run, he leaped to his feet as soon as he stopped rolling, picked up speed, and hurtled downward without paying any attention to where he was going. There was barely time to watch where his feet were landing. All he could think about was putting distance between himself and the scary person who had killed Dorn.

  It was the fear that saved Tailyn’s life. He wasn’t watching where he was going and didn’t even notice that he was running like a crazed stallion—all he did was push on ahead. The earthen mound ended. His feet found their own way, jumping from rock to rock. The light barely filtering in through the hole was enough for his subconscious to just make out the boulders. But he had to slow down, one final leap taking him over to a rough stone wall. Noticing a slight glow, the boy ducked into a recess and stopped still. His body shook, and he wanted to gulp down air, but the fear had taken him from flight to freeze. And while his head spun from the lack of oxygen, the boy held on, trying to breathe as infrequently as he possibly could. The stranger’s shadow blocked out the
sun. Tailyn stopped breathing entirely—it was time to play dead.

  The crystal fence carefully made his way over to the crack. It was an unlucky break, exactly the reason he hated the old cities. There were tunnels and gaps everywhere, all formed as the buildings left behind by the ancients millennia before had crumbled and decayed. Everything that could rot had rotten, metal included. All that was left was the stone and some unusual structures the ancients had made by mixing stone and metal—stone blocks had somehow been fitted right around iron cables. In a word, all that was left of the ancients were the rare items given them by the god that had managed to survive the thousands of years since.

  The man listened intently. Nothing. Looping a rope around some nearby rocks, he carefully made his way over to the very edge. It was a deep fall, at least five stories. Presumably, the boy’s body had shattered on impact. It wasn’t visible, but that was probably because it had rolled off down somewhere among the rocks. Still, there was a reason the crystal fence was still alive and kicking—if there was any doubt, he had to see for himself. There was no way he could leave behind any witnesses.

  Tugging on the rope to make sure it was knotted tightly, the man tossed the other end into the gap, eased himself over the edge, and started down. He had to find the boy.

  Tailyn watched the assassin as he descended, the boy somewhere between living and dead. He’d done everything he could—run, hide, almost die. But it hadn’t been enough. The dangerous enemy was coming for him. Coming ever closer. Coming to end the life of the nobody who sponged off everyone else, which was how Master Isor put it. Tailyn shoved himself deeper into the niche he’d found, finally stopping to make sure the strange glow was completely covered. Presumably, he was sitting on some mushrooms. He needed to get rid of them, as they were going to tell the assassin exactly where he was, and so Tailyn twisted slightly. But he froze just before his foot kicked at the treacherous glow.

  There were no mushrooms.

  Instead, three strangely shining items were lying on the ground—gifts from the god. One looked like the same kind of bag Mistress Valanil had, only with more compartments and pockets. The second was a bent metal device fitted with a button. Tailyn had never seen anything like it before, the same true of the third item. It was a square with something you pushed. His hands were reaching out on their own when a message popped up:

  You found the place where Lavr Nalin, a level 23 human, died.

  Virtual inventory with 36 slots received.

  KORT-II ray pistol received.

  Last Statement recording received.

  Everything inside Tailyn went cold—it was an ancient. The spot was presumably the grave of one of them, and the little idiot had just disturbed it. A thousand calamities were going to come crashing down on him, the god was going to turn its gaze away, and… To be fair, the god had already turned its gaze away. What could have been worse than the assassin making its way down the rope? The stranger had just gotten to the earthen mound and was looking around to find the boy’s tracks. Tailyn swallowed and pinned a hand against his stomach as he felt the spasms beginning. But suddenly, the god decided to begin talking with him.

  Would you like to integrate your virtual inventory?

  The usual square buttons appeared in front of the boy, who tapped yes. Something changed. Next to his status table, there was a new picture the god used to open a large field full of cells when he hit it. That was a surprise, and it told the boy that nobody had turned their gaze away from him after all. The god was still there regardless of the fact that he’d found the grave. Apparently, the other kids had been shooting hot air—there was no punishment for finding the ancients.

  With newfound confidence, Tailyn picked up the L-shaped device. There was only one way to press the button, and when he grabbed the device the way it was supposed to be held, it began modifying right in front of him.

  KORT-II adapting to new user.

  Tailyn squeaked in surprise.

  “Ah, that’s where you are!” the stranger called happily when he noticed the boy. “You’re a hardy little guy.”

  Tailyn turned and pressed himself deeper into the niche. Fear began to cloud his mind. It wasn’t every day a terrifying assassin wanted to squash you like a bug, and so he cowered, holding his shaking hands up to shield himself.

  While it wasn’t a great spot to use his whip, the crystal fence didn’t particularly need it. The boy was right there. He was alone, defenseless, holding…

  “Hey, what’s that?” the man asked in surprise. “Where did you find it?”

  The boy was definitely clutching something from the world of the ancients. It would go for a good hundred gold in the Zarila market, maybe even more. Heading down had turned out to be the right decision—besides the five crystals, he was going to be picking up a mysterious device. It was the kind of great day he was going to celebrate with a nice bottle of booze.

  Through the haze of fear, Tailyn saw the stranger getting closer and closer. He cursed the moment he’d decided to head into the ruins looking for flowers, the moment that damn pebble had fallen over the edge of the ridge, the moment he’d slipped into the hole in the ground. All he wanted was to be home listening to Master Isor yell at him.

  The stranger’s hand reached out, and Tailyn closed his eyes, squeezing himself into a tight little ball. It was the end.

  After a short shriek of pain, a silence fell in the cave.

  Tailyn saw the messages the god was sending him even through tightly closed eyelids.

  You killed Elass Jing, a level 4 human.

  Note! KORT-II marked for disposal.

  KORT-II ray pistol removed from circulation.

  ***

  Compensation received for lost item: you can begin the initiation and receive the attendant specialty.

  Analyzing human Tailyn Vlashich and his belongings.

  3 alchemical scrolls detected.

  Generating class…

  ***

  Your new class: Alchemist.

  Attendant specialty unlocked: Alchemy.

  Tailyn’s body bent over double in excruciating pain. He wanted to howl, only he couldn’t breathe, and the yell stuck somewhere in his throat. As his mouth foamed, his eyes opened wide and threatened to pop right out of their sockets, only for darkness to finally fall an eternity later and bring relief. Still, Tailyn’s body continued to convulse as he went through the initiation. The boy was becoming a full-fledged member of the world he lived in.

  A world the game had arrived in several millennia before.

  Chapter 2

  TAILYN’S CONSCIOUSNESS returned slowly, easing its way back like a frozen piece of toffee from Master Glion’s shop. Peeling his eyes open, the boy looked up to see the rough stone wall the ancients had built. His head was heavy. The thoughts running through it were heavier still. Tailyn knew he was supposed to do something, supposed to decide something, but his brain was in no mood to recall what that was.

  Pulling himself up into a crouch, the boy stared in confusion at the dark skin. It looked odd and unnatural in that wilderness of stone and sand. But a few moments later, his consciousness kicked in, and he realized it was the stranger’s cloak.

  It all suddenly came crashing down on Tailyn. Wherever the strength came from, he found it and dove back into his little recess. Everything was right there. He remembered how the monster had killed Dort before trying to hunt him down, too. But the god had somehow decided that he, Tailyn, was the stronger in their uneven fight, even giving him a reward. It was impossible. He, a ten-year-old boy, shouldn’t have been able to take down the enormous bull and its magic rope.

  Speaking of which, the whip was right there next to the skin. Tailyn shrank back from it instinctively only to accidentally trip over the ancients’ device. It squeaked strangely. Then, a heavy, tired voice began speaking, interrupting itself with fits of coughing.

  May seventh, two thousand thirty-five. This is Lieutenant Lavr Nalin, unit three. The beasts got to me
, though I was able to fight them off. I’m in a metro tunnel. No coins, no regeneration. The wound is deep; I can’t stop the bleeding. This looks like the end… The commander’s mission was executed successfully—the containers are well-hidden. The White Order won’t be able to get to them. The coordinates are in the control room farther down the tunnel. But be careful—I left some surprises along the way. Don’t trigger any of the traps. Earth will be ours. Over and out…

  ***

  New mission: Look for Coordinates. Description: head farther into the tunnel and find the coordinates of the hiding spot Lavr Nalin was talking about. Just be careful, as there’s probably someone living in the tunnel. Note! This is a secret mission, so you can’t tell anyone about it.

  Tailyn found himself shaking still harder, no matter how impossible that had seemed just a minute before. Only that time, it wasn’t fear; he was shaking from excitement. A mission from the god, the kind you got level promotions for. Nobody he told was going to … Suddenly, the boy stopped—he couldn’t tell anyone. The god tracked everyone carefully, and if it said he shouldn’t tell, then he wasn’t supposed to tell. Almost as if reading his mind, the strange device disappeared without a trace.