City of the Dead

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Yes, thanks! I can see the new numbers.”

  “What are they? Can you read them off to me?”

  “Sure, my shield level is 34, with 610 in parentheses. This is great!”

  “Okay… And what about your mana level?”

  “360, 660 in parentheses,” Tailyn replied.

  “Not bad for level one,” Mistress Valanil replied with an admiring shake of her head. “You did a good job getting ready to come down here. Did a new trader already show up in town? They sure replaced me quickly.”

  “No, of course not!” Tailyn exclaimed in an effort to reassure the herbalist. “It’s not because of a trader! And they haven’t replaced you, at least, they hadn’t two days ago.”

  “You’ve been down here for two days already?” Valanil asked in surprise. “Wait, then where did you get your clothes and cards? You didn’t steal them, did you?!”

  Tailyn sucked in air to respond only to let it right back out noisily. His mentor’s face had appeared in front of him, lips pursed—he’d instructed the boy not to tell anyone. Not even someone as close as Mistress Valanil.

  “I can’t share that. My mentor forbade it.”

  “Oh, really? Isor really got a grip and decided to start working on his ward?”

  “No, not him. A mage from the academy itself, Forian Tarn, showed up in the city. He was the one who made me his pupil and gave me… Oh, I’m not supposed to tell anyone…”

  To say Valanil was shocked would have been to say nothing at all. She knew very well who Forian Tarn was and what the rumors about him were, but the most important part was that she knew he didn’t take on pupils. Regardless of what the dean, his family, and his beloved said. And then that bit of news… She definitely needed to give some thought to what she was going to do about that. But first things first—she needed to get the boy attached to her. Forian had presumably unlocked the five standard attributes for Tailyn, and that meant she needed to give him something his mentor wouldn’t have even thought of. That would show the boy how he needed to stick by her, his favorite herbalist. It was such a good thing she’d invested so much time in the obnoxious kid. It was like she’d always known.

  “That’s okay,” Valanil replied, stroking the boy’s hair. “You shouldn’t talk about what your mentor told you not to. The punishment would be harsh—you’re doing the right thing.”

  The boy beamed, hearing praise once again. He’d been afraid the herbalist was going to yell at him and make him tell her everything. But no, she was understanding, and it was like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.

  “Although, I do have a couple notes for you, Tailyn Vlashich. The phrase you use to activate your cards is too long. Remember how you spent all your time dodging since you didn’t have time to fire off your own shots? If there had been more of them—or if they’d been more experienced—it would have ended badly for you. You should really change the phrase to something unusual only you know, though keep it short. No more than one or two syllables.”

  Tailyn nodded dumbly. Everything Mistress Valanil was saying made sense, and that impressed him—he really hadn’t had enough time during the battle to pronounce Alchemist Tailyn Vlashich. And that had made him a poor partner for the lix. But why had Forian not told him about that? It seemed like a really important point.

  For his new phrase, Tailyn picked Ka-Li. He had no idea what it meant, though he liked the way it sounded, and he could pronounce it while exhaling right onto his cards. That was perfect.

  The herbalist kept a close eye on the boy to make sure he followed her instructions with his cards. And only for a moment did her lips purse when he didn’t ask her advice about the phrase—his cards were going to be useless to her. But the moment quickly passed, and the boy noticed nothing.

  “Excellent, now for the most important part. Your tutor told you about the attribute mages need the most, right?”

  “But I’m not a mage,” the boy replied.

  “Mage, alchemist, it doesn’t really matter. Anyone traveling the world and even on rare occasions being forced to fight for their life needs perception as part of their arsenal. When you have it, you can see your opponent’s name, their level, and even their parameters so long as they aren’t that high. You don’t have it, do you?”

  Tailyn could only sigh sadly and shake his head. No, he didn’t have perception.

  “What was your tutor thinking?” Valanil grumbled. “And what did he have you pick up? Probably the usual intellect, wisdom, mysticism, and armor, right? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to pry. Those are all important, and he was right on the money, it’s just that he apparently didn’t think through what you were going to be up to. He didn’t know you were going to be running around dungeons, did he? Yep, and that’s why he didn’t teach it to you. Okay, whatever, I’m tired, and I need to rest. Keep a close eye on the door—they might bring new prisoners in.”

  Valanil settled by one of the walls, keeping eyes fixed on Tailyn under drooping eyelids. The kid was hiding something. Even if Forian really did take him on, the mage definitely wouldn’t have taught anything to an ignoramus who hadn’t even passed the entrance exams. And that meant Tailyn had gotten his strength somewhere else, somewhere he was hiding behind the guise of that nonsense about not being able to tell. It was a smart move for the idiot kid he’d always been. But how did he know the lix language? Valanil had always considered herself fairly unique, but there she was forced to admit that she wasn’t as unique as she’d previously thought. She wasn’t the only one who could understand lixes; the boy could, too. She just couldn’t let him find out—the partners could talk between themselves all they wanted. If only she knew where Tailyn had gotten that Ka-Do-Gir… No, she was definitely going to interrogate the kid, only she was going to do it such that he wouldn’t suspect a thing. Throw him a bone, teach him something, lure him in with secrets, and he would be hers. She had to make sure Tailyn couldn’t do without her. Then, Crobar would remember his exiled daughter, maybe even pardon her and restore her to her old position. And that would be when she’d get her revenge. Crobar, who tossed her as a young girl right into the fire, the academy that threw her out of her first year, figuring that her life was reward enough, all of them would pay.

  But Tailyn had no idea what was going through the herbalist’s mind. He was conflicted enough as it was. On the one hand, he wanted to tell the only person who had ever been more or less kind to him what had happened. That would have earned him praise, pats on the head, hugs. On the other, he didn’t want to let his mentor down. And Forian had given him orders to keep his mouth shut.

  The boy went back over to the black stone. Something drew him in, something about the ancient magic Forian had used on him with the true word spell. Placing a hand firmly on the cold service, Tailyn found himself in the store. The filters were still set—he was looking at just the one display case.

  But Tailyn had already seen everything in it. He needed something different. Remembering his first introduction to the god, the boy decided to send up another request. It didn’t hurt to try.

  “I want to unlock perception. Please.”

  Request received, processing…

  Verifying availability… Success.

  Verifying access to terminal… Success.

  ***

  You spent 1000 gold to unlock an attribute.

  Perception (1) received.

  Perception. Description: an attribute that lets you notice details in the surrounding world as well as the profiles of other creatures. The latter ability depends on the attribute level + Enhancement, the level of the creature in question, and its concealment level if it has that attribute.

  Tailyn even hiccupped, never expecting it to be that simple. The remote terminal turned out to be a kind of copy of the god, just smaller and requiring blood sacrifices. Suddenly, the boy thought about an alchemical workshop. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to prove himself as an alchemist. A mage, sure; a warrior, maybe; but not an alch
emist. And what was the class even for in that case?

  “I need an alchemical workshop!” he said, figuring nobody could get mad at him for asking.

  Request received, processing…

  Verifying Alchemy skill… Success.

  Select an option: purchase UAL (universal alchemical lab) / use the virtual lab.

  With heart pounding, Tailyn jabbed at the purchase button only to have his stomach drop when he saw the price. Fifty thousand coins… It was hard to even imagine how someone might come up with that kind of cash. Still, the boy took a deep breath, went back, and selected the second option.

  You’re using terminal RP-443-7’s virtual lab.

  Your materials were pulled from your inventory and added to the workbench. As needed, you can also purchase anything you’re missing.

  The display case disappeared, replaced by a bright room full of unusual tools and… Tailyn froze. Right across from him was a strange creature that looked just like the ghostly barrels that did their best to replace the ancients’ lamps. Only there, the barrel was material and talkative.

  “Welcome to the virtual lab, player. I’m your assistant. This is your first time here, so I should ask—are you going to need training, or are you good to go on your own?”

  “Training,” the boy said meekly. The whole thing felt like a dream. Yet again, he was being called a player, that time the second in the previous few days, and that had to mean something.

  “All work is done on this workbench.” The barrel went over to the big device it was calling the bench. Tailyn went over, too, and was surprised. Workbenches were supposed to be flat so nothing fell off them, while that one had all kinds of little drawers, indentations, holes, and ledges. The boy’s eyes darted this way and that as he took it all in. And while he wasn’t sure where to look, the barrel helped by shining a red beam on some glass containers.

  “Those are your alchemical retorts. If you need more, you can always buy them. Just pull them off the shelves here.”

  The beam of light moved over to one of the shelves in the workbench. It turned out to be loaded with retorts.

  “You only had flowers in your inventory, so we moved them here.” The beam lit up a few drawers, and Tailyn recognized his loot. “There are 112 daisies, 87 lavenders, and 94 loaches. If you need something else…”

  That time, the beam left the workbench and jumped over to one of the display cases standing up against the walls. They had everything in them, from flowers, stones, and powders to some kind of bowls, rods, and even a skull. It was fascinating, but Tailyn didn’t have time to get distracted. The barrel continued.

  “Everything happens here in the alchemical cube.” A device outfitted with lots of flasks and pipes glowed in recognition that it was the subject of their conversation. “You take a recipe, measure out the materials you need, and hit the convert button. Ordinary recipes are prepared immediately, rare recipes take a minute, epic recipes take half an hour, and legendary recipes can take up to several days depending on how difficult they are. Pretty straightforward, right? Everything make sense?”

  Tailyn nodded, although quite a bit had gone right over his head.

  “Okay, let’s try making a mana restoration potion. Put the recipe in front of you.”

  The barrel highlighted a small shelf with three pieces of paper on it. One of them was glimmering—that was the one the boy needed. With shaking fingers, Tailyn followed the barrel’s instructions, his other hand wiping the sweat from his forehead. Even something that simple seemed incredibly complicated. The boy was terrified he would break something.

  “Excellent. Place an alchemical retort in the output unit.”

  A glass container appeared next to the boy—they weren’t using Tailyn’s materials for the test. One of the receivers on the workbench lit up to show where to put the retort, and the boy placed it there gingerly. There was a click as the retort locked into place.

  “Excellent. Next, take one lavender and two daisies, and place them in the receptacle.”

  Tailyn was feeling slightly more confident, and he took care of that in mere seconds. The whole thing really was pretty straightforward.

  “Hit the button,” his trainer said finally. And as soon as the boy did that, the alchemical cube jumped into action, bubbles ran through the water in its tubes, and the retort was instantly filled with a beautiful blue liquid.

  You created a test Mana Restoration Potion. A copy was added to your reward shelf.

  You spent 1 mana creating the potion. Remaining: 359.

  Item received: Test Mana Restoration Potion. Description: restores 6 mana (skill level + Enhancement) when used. You can use this item, though you can’t remove it from the workshop.

  Tailyn definitely wasn’t going to let his first creation go to waste, so he grabbed the retort and noticed to his surprise that there was already a cork in it. The same kind Mistress Valanil’s potions had, in fact. With one smooth motion, he yanked it out and downed the contents.

  Mana +6 (365).

  It was a simple message. Tailyn looked down sadly at his empty hands—retorts apparently weren’t reusable, as the god had taken his and turned it to dust. That meant he was going to have to buy a new one every time. The other problem was that creating elixirs cost one mana, something he hadn’t noticed anywhere, including, for example, in the recipe. And Tailyn didn’t like surprises, though there was nothing he could do.

  The barrel stood there for a little while longer before disappearing into a white cloud. The boy’s assistant was gone without a trace.

  Tailyn placed all three recipes out in front of him. It was such a shame that he’d spent those crystals on his shield potions rather than mana potions—having some extra around would have been helpful. He wasn’t going to just be buying them all the time, was he?

  That brought up an interesting idea. When you gave gifts to the god, it handed you gold for them. What if the magazine let you sell things as well as buying them? For example, he could make a big batch of elixirs and sell them off. Not right then, of course, but later. Tailyn wondered if that was how he could get enough coins to buy the hood and even the lab. Why not? Most importantly, he had to get better.

  You created 10 Shield Restoration Potions.

  Mana -10 (355).

  Tailyn wasn’t about to skimp on flowers as he made some elixirs for Ka-Do-Gir. The lix was always up in their opponents’ face, and having that extra little bonus gave them a better shot at survival. And while each elixir restored just eleven shield, even that tiny bit seemed like a lot to Tailyn. The boy definitely didn’t share Mistress Valanil’s opinion when it came to lixes. He’d seen for himself how fair the monsters could be, and he was planning on staying partners with his as long as possible.

  When he ran out of retorts, Tailyn decided to take his assistant’s advice and buy some there in the workshop.

  You would like to purchase 10 alchemical retorts. Cost: 1 coin per set.

  The prices hurt. The boy knew they cost as low as a couple gold back in the city, and there the price tag was a whole coin. Of course, he could have waited until he got back, but he had a feeling it wasn’t worth it. He needed to make sure he had what he needed to get back in the first place. As soon as he agreed to the purchase, the retorts appeared on his shelf.

  You created 10 Mana Restoration Potions.

  Mana -10 (345).

  Each retort gave him +6 mana, though that wasn’t what Tailyn was there for.

  “I want to sell the potions I made!” he said, and the world around him was set into motion. The beautiful room was switched out in favor of a flat display case, though the difference that time was that there was an empty shelf in front of the boy.

  Place the goods you would like to sell on the appraisal bench.

  Apparently, everything there was called benches. Tailyn quickly placed all ten of the elixirs he’d created on the bench, proud of how clever he was being. Ten empty retorts cost one coin. He had plenty of herbs, and even if
they ran out, he could always just buy more and keep right on earning coins.

  Would you like to sell 10 Mana Restoration Potions totaling 60 mana for 30 gold?

  The boy was stunned to see the offer. Gold? No, he needed coins—thirty coins.

  But the remote terminal was implacable. It absolutely refused to hand over coins, at least, for the useless potions Tailyn was offering.

  The silence in the store was suddenly broken by the lix’s shout.

  “Tailyn, wake up! I need you!”

  The boy was hauled back out, and the first thing he saw was a message from the god:

  Status change. Current status: combat.

  You cannot modify your active deck.

  Opponents remaining: 1.