by Ryan DeBruyn
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now!” Jacque demands from a few feet away. His face is red, and his mouth is pressed into a firm line. Instead of answering, I pull more soup from my subspace, drinking the stuff like water. Seeing I need the qi to heal, Jacque doesn’t move to stop me.
Chapter 51
September 7th, 151 AR
Jeff Turle
“Why would you kill me?” I gasp out once I catch my breath. I don’t understand why Jacque is even here, let alone threatening me. Didn’t he just save my life?
“You led monsters, Jeff. I’ve been following you all night, so don’t deny it. Next time, leave the button in the guild building, no?” Jacque says and then points to a red mark on his chest. “We don’t have a lot of time here. That flare alerted the Church. You and I are both marked as witnesses to the death of a Crusader. Tell me how you led monsters! Explain to me why you have pointy ears! Tell me everything, or by the guild you have membership in, I will let the Church take you.”
The portal to the Training Room is right there. I can see a hobgoblin at the top of the stairs looking at us. I shake my head as subtly as my pain-wracked body can manage, hoping that the hobgoblin doesn’t try to attack. The Training Room is five feet away, but it might as well be one hundred with Jacque in front of me.
“I can only explain some of that, Jacque,” I groan and let my head fall to my chest. “But I’ll try my best. The goblins, hobgoblins, trolls, orcs, high-orcs, blood-orcs, and ogres are a race known as the Gartusk. I can speak their language.” I can see Jacque’s face grow redder, but he lets me finish.
“Ogres? Everything else you listed is a type of dungeon, but I’ve never heard of Ogres. Are you trying to say that the dungeon monsters are races?” Jacque asks, and I narrow my eyes at him. I thought we didn’t have a lot of time.
“Not all of them, no. From my understanding, five of the dungeons have other races inside of them, waiting to invade Earth.” I hold up a hand to stop his follow-up. “I can only answer one thing at a time, Jacque.” He growls but then nods and glances at my chest. I follow his gaze and see the same red glowing mark there.
“I asked the hobgoblins for help, and they followed me here to become a part of my tribe.” I can tell that Jacque’s anger is rising further, so I hurry on. “The pointy ears I can’t explain. I was born with them. . .”
“So you just happen to have a mutation of pointy ears and can talk to goblins. Sounds suspicious, Jeff. Maybe I should just let the Church take you. We don’t have much time, and you haven’t convinced me!” Jacque says and frowns before moving his finger back and forth like a pendulum. “Tick tock, Jeff. I still need to go find a monster that could have killed the Crusader!”
“Jacque, I’m telling the truth. My mother was in charge of a group of mercenaries, and we scrounged the Old-World towns for valuables,” I respond. Jacque shakes his head and grabs my shoulder to begin dragging me upstairs. “Wait! You can check out my story. Our group was attacked recently by an army looking for Leanne Turle. That’s all I know. . .” I finally relent to the man’s manhandling and feel Jacque drop me back to the ground, as my reward. My qi stores are bottoming out, so I pull out another soup Tupperware.
“Leanne Turle? One of the thousand missing S-rankers? An army was looking through your mother’s group of mercenaries for Leanne Turle?” Jacque asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and wonder. That tone causes me to study his face. He answered a question I didn’t even know to ask. Leanne Turle is a ranker? I’d thought she might be Leah . . . but my mother has a wrecked Dantian. Who is this Leanne woman then, and why would an army think that a missing S-ranker was with our group? Could we be related to her?
“I will look into that claim, Jeff. You sure that’s the story you want to stick with?” Jacque asks as he squats back down and stares into my face. I nod. “You better not have lied to me, Jeff. Does your subspace have the ability to sustain life?” Jacque asks, making it clear that he isn’t planning on killing me today. I sigh in relief and nod in affirmation. “I know where the anchor point is, Jeff, so I’ll be back to talk with you,” Jacque threatens further.
Jacque looks around the basement and then shakes his head before indicating the red mark on his chest. He mutters a few words in French that I don’t understand and then turns back to me.
“I’m going to tell the Church that you led monsters here, and one of them killed the Crusader. Then you ran off into the ruins. Do you understand what that means?” As my head shakes, he continues, “You will be an outlaw, Jeff. No longer welcome in any suburbs or cities in the Northern Territory. The Church will pass your description to every member of its organization. So you will be trapped in that subspace until I check your story.”
“It’s the truth,” I whisper.
“Jeff, for one of the missing rankers—ranked eleventh before the disappearance—to somehow be in our world still, I find that extremely difficult to believe. If it weren’t for Veronica I’d probably turn you in to the Church without bothering to check the story. Last chance. No? Okay, do you have enough food in there?” Jacque finishes with a bit of a head shake, clearly having already decided I made everything up. I nod again.
A trumpet sounds from the direction of the Suburb, and Jacque looks up at the sound. “They’re on their way. Get inside and stay there until I come for you.”
I crawl my way over to the opening and slink inside. Jacque stands above the blue portal, scratching his chin as the hobgoblin on the top step catches me in his arms. A wave of tiredness washes over me. I sink into the arms of the hobgoblin, just glad that someone from outside made it in. Not to mention that means that Mur is around here somewhere to have helped them cross the invisible portal.
“Isn’t that something? Just sinks through the concrete,” Jacque says to himself and shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “Merde. I need to hurry and find a high-ranking monster! Don’t try to escape, Jeff, or I’ll destroy this subspace anchor myself!”
It’s my turn to smile as I look back out through the shimmering field that Jacque can’t see through. I don’t care if he destroys the place now. A slip through space is the highest probability for the Training Room, and that’s almost an empty threat. There might be a chance of death, but I can face it as long as I am back in here with my friends. I’m home.
“Mur take Jeff to bed,” the hobgoblin carrying me says, and I jerk my head in his direction, blinking stupidly. That’s Mur? I feel a wave of happiness wash over me. I try to say something, but the events of the day have taken their toll because I just flop my mouth open and closed like a fish at my friend as he carries me along.
Just as Mur lowers me into a cot, I notice another green body filling one to my left. It looks like someone else survived the slaughter above.
As soon as Mur wraps me in my blankets, I fall asleep.
I wake up to arguing voices above me. My chest aches and I sit up with the help of my arms on the cot’s side rails. I limp my way over to the portal.
“Welcome back, Master,” Crash says as he pops into view beside me. I turn and smile at the AI, never thinking I would actually have missed it. Strange. I was only really gone for a day. Maybe it was more the thought of losing him?
“We know that the outlaw has a subspace anchored to this location. It is likely aiding his escape,” one of the individuals in the basement says from out of view of the portal. “We should destabilize it to help us catch him.”
“Do you know how rare subspace items are?” another voice answers the first and continues, “If we destroy this one and then catch the boy, we will have thrown away a precious object!”
“How long have they been at that?” I turn to Crash.
“Sire, they can’t see the portal, so they used scattered sand to locate it first,” Crash begins and then points to a scattering of small stones and even a mithril coin. “Since then, every idiot has thrown something through the portal when they arrive. Each one also seems to have their own op
inion about what to do with it,” Crash informs me. He stares up at the portal and then adds, “Probably a good thing they haven’t tried to throw anything explosive in. That’s a pretty common method to destroy goods inside of a space without destroying the space itself.” My mouth falls open.
“Wait, what would happen if they did that?” I ask and see Crash close its eyes for a moment.
“Sire, explosives or spells shot into the Training Room would cause a great deal of damage, which would need prompt repair. The portal would close, and we would lose our connection to the outside temporarily.”
“Can we close the portal now so they can’t damage the Training Room?” I ask, wondering why it isn’t already closed.
“We can do that, Master. Of course, that won’t stop them from destroying the basement and the anchor along with it,” Crash states and I blink. So their knowing where the subspace is may be preventing them from destroying the anchor?
“Crash, are you saying that if we close the portal, they will be more likely to destroy the basement? And if they destroy the anchor when the portal is closed are there new risks?” I ask. Crash pauses again.
“No new risks, Master. As for the situation above, we cannot say what the humans will do. They’re complete wildcards, which is why I suggest monitoring the situation, and with the portal closed, we will not be able to hear them,” Crash responds very logically and calmly.
I sigh and rub my ears. This feels like an impossible decision. I mean, if there is less of a chance of them destroying the subspace if the portal remains open I should take it, right? I only need about two weeks before the move feature comes off cooldown. An image of Veronica flashes into my head and I dismiss it. I will think on her later; the safety of Mur, myself, and Tet, who was the goblin in the other cot, comes first!
“How fast can we close the portal if they decide to throw in explosives or spells?” I ask.
“Probably not in time, Master, but we could move the entrance farther away from the living areas and apps.”
“Okay, start doing that,” I say and move to the kitchen. Better to be cautious. I purchase the ingredients for eggs and toast, despite the fact it’s afternoon already.
“Ah, yes, sire. The mush on warm bread and a side of charred meat again, is it?” Crash states after I see the entrance wall itself off from the living area. I smile. It’s good to be back.
“Why yes, it is, Crash. I think that tonight, Taurus filet and risotto might be a good reminder of my first days in the Training Room. Don’t you?” I respond and hear Crash make a small screech of protest.
“Master, I think I will monitor the portal,” Crash says, before he vanishes from the spot on the other side of the island. I look to Mur, and he shrugs at me.
“You want some?” I bark at him. He nods and stuffs another piece of raw meat into his mouth. “Hold on. How much did you eat to rank up to hobgoblin?” I ask, realizing that I’m not going to like the answer.
“I eat fourth squirrel now!” he responds in Gartuski and bangs on his chest. Wait. What?
“You ate all four of the Rodentia we beat?” I ask and then look over to Tet, who is sitting on a couch I didn’t notice this morning. Did Mur offer to share at least? I forget the question entirely when I realize that the new couch and armchairs surround a bookshelf, and I see Tet holding something in his hands.
Is that a book? I abandon the kitchen and my questioning of Mur to go study the two new additions to the Training Room. I’d completely forgotten! The smithy really just looks like a cauldron over a fireplace, bellows, tongs, molds, hammer, and an anvil. I study each but will need Crash’s help to melt and further purify the Leporid dungeon rocks.
The library only has four books on the shelf. One is Barclay’s Cultivatin Journal, and the other three are the Basics of Cultivation. I move over to see what Tet has and see that he is reading a children’s book titled Borrowed Black. I can only tell it’s a children’s book thanks to the large pictures and tiny writing on each page.
“Where you get that?” I ask in Gartuski, and Tet points over to Mur, who in turn points to the shop. Interesting. So he was able to use the shop app. The ability to purchase books should make the time waiting for the move less painful. Plus, there are those shows that Mur and Crash kept watching. . .
For now, I return to the kitchen, and begin cooking for three, assuming Tet will want some food too.
“Mur, we are going to need to talk about sharing,” I admonish in English and gesture at Tet. Mur opens his eyes wide and picks up his plate to go sit beside Tet. “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” I mumble.
I’ve just finished a workout when the arguing above the portal gets a new addition. Darren’s voice joins the fray, and I stare up from the bottom of the stairs as I continue to sweat. I hope he isn’t as upset as Jacque was.
“We haven’t found him yet, but clearly the subspace is still connected here, right?” he says, and something falls through the portal. I dodge out of the way of the falling rock as it pings off the landing toward me.
“Hey!” I shout and shake a fist up at Darren before looking at the rock. There’s a piece of paper tied to it.
“He will come back here to claim it, eventually. Why not leave this to the Star Bucks to handle? We will make sure our excised member is caught when he returns,” Darren continues.
My mouth twists hearing another Star Bucks member blaming me again, but I know he’s also working an angle. Some more discussion continues above, but I read Darren’s note:
Jeff,
I’m really sorry about Jacque. He didn’t think everything through before condemning you to your subspace. We are working on some possibilities for you, but I need you to stay there for the time being.
Right now, our best bet is to get you out of Toronto. The Church is selecting a new Vicar in three weeks. The guild has decided that we will help you escape along with Veronica, but she is to be escorted by one of our teams. Wait in your subspace for two weeks, and as long as the Church doesn’t decide to bomb the interior, I will see you then.
If they do, I’m even more sorry,
Darren Haynes, Star Bucks Beach Chapter Head
“Really? He’s sorry?” I mutter and shake my head. I now have a tough decision to make. The move feature will be ready slightly before that time. Should I just move the Training Room or take Veronica with me? If it were just Veronica by herself, I don’t think it would be a difficult decision, but add in this team of people? I don’t believe they will be friendly toward Mur and Tet. I can’t even be sure they will be friendly toward me.
It would be much better for me to just leave. That way, no one would know about the Training Room, but doing so may mean Veronica suffers and dies shortly after. I shake my head, putting the decision off for now. I need to shower and check on Tet again.
Chapter 52
September 25th, 151 AR
Leanne Turle
“Leanne Turle, you’ve refused to talk to anyone but your son, Graydon,” the pompous assistant says from the other side of a glass wall they installed just inside the door to my room. My captors took offense at my having free rein in their illusion of my Elysium City when I attempted to jump off a balcony. I must admit, they’re quite good, though. Their illusion of my own skyscraper is nearly perfect. Although, locked in this room and fed through a sliding hole at the bottom of that glass wall is a dead giveaway. They can’t fool me; I am a captive of the elves again. Right?
I shake my head to clear it of any confusion I hold. That the pain from my God Organ has lessened isn’t any kind of proof of their intentions. For now, my only hope of release from this nightmare is to get the other eleven pieces of the Sun Fruit. To that end, I have refused to talk to anyone but the illusion of my son, and only when he brings me a sliver of the fruit. Illusion-Graydon enters the entry area and smiles at me. I start to smile back before catching myself. Illusion!
“I brought Mildred and Max, Mother,” the elven imposter says, and I freeze. How
do they know the names of my grandchildren? My jaw clenches, but two more people enter the room. They both smile shyly and stare intently at me. One of the two has so much similarity to my grandson that I feel discomfort seize my chest. I swallow and turn to the other. Her appearance makes me snarl. I see what they’ve done. It’s like looking into a mirror. They’ve modeled their falsehoods on me. Sure, she has light brown hair and slightly darker skin, but otherwise, she is a copy of me! I rush forward and slam both my fists into the glass, furious that the elves would take it this far.
“Get them out of here!” I scream in sync with my pounding fists. “You monsters! They were children! Children!” I slam harder on the cage when the actors step back with wide-eyed horror. These pretenders are good! But they won’t break me. The assistant rushes them out of the room, leaving me alone with Illusion-Graydon. I feel my legs go weak, and I collapse to the floor. That was a cheap blow, even for the barbarian elves. How dare they?
After a time, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look and see the image of my son reaching through the hole in the glass. I jump up and move away from the elf. Sneering, I point to the door, trying to fight back the threatening tears.
“I have something for you, Mother,” Graydon says instead of leaving, and he holds up a slice of the Sun Fruit. My body wars with my mind. Drool forms in my mouth, and my stomach rumbles in acknowledgment of some sort of craving for the thing. I just ate and know the slice is tasteless, so why would my body crave it so desperately?
“I will trade this piece for more of your story,” he continues. “I think you were about to escape?” There it is. Just like before. They want me to tell them stories of the horrible memories. Like the last time, I refuse to tell them a story involving my pain. Is there something they can’t use against me?