by H. C. Mills
I finally relax and begin moving forward again. Ponytail begins moving again as well.
Babyface bursts into laughter as he follows. “Wait wait wait, did you really think we we’re going to eat you?!”
Something about the tone of his voice or the smirk on his face immediately rubs me the wrong way.
I stop in front of him, raise a brow, and fold my arms over my chest. “I thought you might try, Babyface. You would’ve come to regret that, though.”
That shuts him up. He turns to his friend. “She has spunk. Can we keep her?”
Ponytail smiles wryly. “How about we start with introductions. Hi, I’m Dave.”
He holds out his hand, and I grasp it. He’s got a firm grip. His hand is slightly calloused and quite warm, but not sweaty.
“I’m Emma.”
“Alec,” Babyface adds, throwing me a kind of two-fingered salute. “Nice to meat you.”
The emphasis he puts on the word and his shit-eating grin somehow tell me exactly what he means. I give him a blank stare for his troubles till his grin fades.
Dave tries to hide his chuckle in a cough.
“Anyway,” I drawl at Alec. “Can I take it your remark earlier means there’s room in your party?”
“Definitely!” he responds chipperly, his smile coming back in full force.
“We make a habit of foraging near the doors in case another participant shows up,” Dave clarifies. “Frankly, we should’ve tried harder to round out our numbers earlier, but we were both holding out hope for our respective friends, and, well... we hadn’t anticipated how suddenly the flow of participants would dry up.”
Right, if starting order was determined by viability of survival in the First Trial, the number of people making it through would drop quickly after a while. And considering how long I took, there probably aren’t a lot more people coming.
I look them both up and down. “So, ehm, what’s with the sweater?” I ask Dave, not willing to commit to joining them just yet. I literally got here two minutes ago, after all. “Not that I’m judging or anything—I mean, I’m wearing my bloody hotdog sales uniform—but it seems a little big on you.”
He scratches the back of his neck with a grimace. “Yeah, it got thrown in with me. I guess they decided my costume wasn’t fit for the Trials, and I don’t blame them, but this wouldn’t have been my first pick either.”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” Alec groans. “I spent months on my Iron Man costume, it was totally first-prize-worthy—it had a retractable faceplate and everything—and I wake up in my jimmies next to a Captain America shirt, of all things!”
This kid really needs to get his priorities straight. Still, I’m glad they deemed my uniform good enough, and I didn’t wake up undressed.
Alec frowns and looks over at Dave. “Hey, what did you go to Con as? I don’t think you ever told me.”
“Birdperson,” Dave answers with a shrug. “Had the wings and everything.”
Alec nods. “Ah, sweet.”
I nod along, resisting the urge to raise a brow. A birdperson? Like a harpy? Kinda weird. Well, whatever floats his boat.
I clear my throat. “So, is it, ehm, just the two of you?”
“No, we have one more,” Alec replies, “she’s out—”
“Accept call,” Dave suddenly says, frowning.
Alec turns to him in surprise. “Oh, is that Kaitlynn?” Dave nods. “Speak of the devil,” Alec prattles on. “Kaitlynn’s our third. She’s pretty neat; she’s got blue hair, and—”
“—she’s in trouble,” Dave finishes.
“This way,” Dave says as he rushes ahead, checking a screen I can’t see, that supposedly holds a map of Hub Two, with a dot that represents their missing member, Kaitlynn.
Apart from a couple of Moonshade Flowers, I don’t spot anything dangerous, so, not knowing what else to do, or exactly what’s going on, I follow him and Alec in their mad dash through the tall underbrush.
“Please don’t tell me it’s Bruce,” Alec pleads.
“Okay,” Dave answers.
After a short pause, Alec groans. “That means it is Bruce, isn’t it?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Dave replies, his dry tone of voice belying the tension in his body language and the urgent frequency with which he checks his heading.
I can’t hold back any longer. “What’s going on? Who’s Bruce?”
“How do I explain...” he starts distractedly as we hurry on as fast as we can over uneven ground broken up by giant roots. “Bruce was—or so he claims—the first to arrive in Hub Two. He seems to be under the impression that gives him a certain claim to the place. Anyway, he’s formed a team with some other rapid arrivals and started terrorising the place, hogging the resources.”
“Seriously, that guy’s an ass,” Alec gripes. “Like, when is the council going to lay the smack down on him already? He’s totally ignoring their rules!”
I nearly miss a step. “Council? Do you mean to say there’s an official organ we can present our grievances with at here? ’Cause I’ve got a lot of those.”
“No, sorry,” Dave says, “it’s more of a, eh, local thing.”
Damn.
Dave hesitates for a moment when we come across a patch of Moonshade Flowers, but ultimately decides to lead us around rather than through.
Probably for the best. We won’t be much help if we’re full of Toxic Energy when we get there.
“Strictly speaking their full name is the council of survivors,” he continues. “It was erected in an effort to foster a cooperative effort to survive this place. The idea was originally proposed and spread via the Social System by a woman called Rebecca. Ultimately, it led to a large group of survivors gathering and electing a council. Rebecca was elected chair.”
I narrow my eyes a little. This sounds like a good thing, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I don’t much like the thought of what people granted authority over others might get up to under life and death circumstances like these. “Were you there for the election process?”
“We both were,” Alec answers in Dave’s stead. “Man, that was a drag, so much talking...”
“So why’s Bruce ignoring their rules?” I ask, ignoring Alec’s comments.
“Because he can,” Dave answers tersely. “He didn’t show up to vote and he doesn’t recognise their authority.”
Can’t say I blame him.
“He’d start recognising it if they would just send a team of enforcers to get him to pipe down,” Alec grumbles. “Seriously, what the hell is taking them so long?!”
“They probably just need time to vet and train recruits for the enforcers,” Dave says with a shrug. “Once they have the numbers, they can resolve issues like this without violence, as they intend. Until, then, however, we’ll have to deal with him ourselves.”
Alec shoots me a sideways glance. “I bet they’d take Emma in a heartbeat. I mean, she’s already wearing their uniform: all black!”
I frown. “Really? Where do they get their black clothes from?”
Alec gapes at me. Apparently he’d never considered that particular quandary. “I guess maybe they dye them or something,” he mutters. “I don’t see how else—”
Dave holds up a hand and slows his pace. “They should be around here somewhere, but I don’t see anyone...”
A soft thud alerts us of the shoe that drops next to me.
We all turn to stare at it blankly.
I wait for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t.
High above us, way up in the canopy, I see a flash of movement.
Dave swears. “She must’ve tried to lose them or psych them out. Damnit, Kaitlynn, why’d you have to escalate the situation like this?!”
“We better start climbing,” Alec says grimly. “What way are they moving? We need to get up ahead of them.”
I blink at them.
Climb up ahead of them? Really?
I take a doubtful look at the nearest tree trunk. I
t almost seems to be made of several tree trunks, that spiral upwards together kinda like a rope. Together they’re incredibly thick, easily 100 feet in diameter.
Okay, I can see how the upward spirals would help, but that’s still a ridiculous climb on a very steep slope!
Dave must see the apprehension on my face, ’cause as he passes me by, he stops to give me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Emma; we only just met, we couldn’t possibly ask you to come. Just wait here.”
I reflexively open my mouth to contradict him, but then I hesitate, and before I make up my mind he’s already moved on to lead Alec towards a nearby tree.
To my surprise, rather than climbing, they simply start jogging up one of the twines that make up the trunk.
I gape at the sight. As they get higher, they start leaning back farther and farther, and I finally realise what’s going on.
These trees are so fat, they have their own gravitational fields!
Look at them go, it’s like they’re just heading up a gentle slope!
Still, one misstep up on those branches, and you can kiss your life goodbye.
I grit my teeth as I watch my potential new teammates jog to their possible doom.
Am I really just going to stand here?
After hesitating for a moment longer, I decide I at least need to go play witness.
I run up to a tree a bit farther, and move up one of the roots to where it leads into an upward spiralling twine.
The tree’s surface is covered in a smooth-looking bark, that still manages to provide me with plenty of grip. I start walking, sticking close to the massive trunk as I slowly circle it at first.
Soon, I get a bit more confidence, a bit more feel for the shift in gravity, and I increase my pace.
A minute or so later, I reach the point where the first of the upward spiralling twines of this trunk splits off into a branch thick enough to drive a bus over.
On a branch stretching out from another tree in the distance I see Dave and Alec standing protectively in front of a blue-haired girl, who’s wearing a matching blue tartan skirt under a white blouse. That must be Kaitlynn, rocking some kind of anime schoolgirl cosplay.
While many of the branches of these trees interconnect, leaving passages from tree to tree, the one they’re on unfortunately appears to be a dead-end. Which means the only way down is past the five menacing-looking guys wielding improvised clubs.
Well actually, only the guy in front looks menacing. He’s a real meathead, all muscly, wearing a black tank-top and military-green cargo shorts of all things.
I’m willing to bet that’s Bruce. But I think I prefer Meathead.
To his right, there’s a guy with beady little eyes that make him slightly resemble a weasel. He’s missing a shoe and holding the other in his hand. That’s one mystery solved, I suppose.
To his left is a guy in a full Legolas costume which I immediately recognise as the last person I was hoping to run into.
Ugh, that’s friggin’ Lego-ass. Kill me now.
For some reason he’s still wearing the bloody wig, which—under the circumstances—just makes him look like the total douche I know him to be.
Behind them, there’s a lanky guy wearing what looks like the tattered remains of a Sherlock costume, and a guy with a pierced eyebrow, hair as black as his eyeliner, dressed in all black. You get the picture.
Looks like I haven’t been spotted yet, and despite the tense atmosphere, they’re still talking. Guess neither side really wants to risk fighting on top of these branches. At least not yet.
I climb a bit higher on the back of my tree, clambering up from one spiralling twine to the next. The higher I get, the more gravity tilts on the tree trunk; it’s already like a forty-five-degree angle by now, so I can manage the feat quite safely.
I sneak onto one of the higher branches and towards the argument, using the door-sized leaves to hide my figure until I’m about thirty feet above and to the right of where it’s going down. Close enough to make out things like their expressions, and the colour of their eye-crystals. Kaitlynn sports a deep red ruby, while Meathead’s crystal is a dark yellow. I don’t bother studying the rest.
I still can’t quite hear what they’re saying though, so I creep a little closer, onto a side branch. It really does seem like sound carries less far in this Realm.
“Well well, would you look at that, boys,” Meathead intones sarcastically, his thick arms folded over his chest. “We’ve got ourselves a pair of white knights.”
His lackeys all chuckle. Especially Weasel—that guy is really laying it on thick, slapping his thigh and everything. Kiss-ass.
Actually, all but one of them chuckle. The emo-looking kid in the back appears very uncomfortable with the whole situation. Though judging by his appearance, it may just be social anxiety.
“Our patience is wearing thin,” Lego-ass sneers, taking over. “Unless the noble sirs know how to fly, you better give us that damn crystal, girl.”
Crystal? Kaitlynn appears to be clutching something in one of her hands, and I can barely make out a greenish glow filtering through her fingers. Wait, could it be one of those items we need to level, a Minor Lavi Crystal? No wonder he wants it so badly.
Kaitlynn goes to take a step forward but is held back by Alec. “This is such bullshit!” she exclaims. “I killed that Blue-Scaled Trigot fair and square, so this crystal is mine. What gives you the right—”
“The right? Hah!” Meathead scoffs, interrupting her. “Have you never read a history book? Rights aren’t given. They’re taken. Like I’m taking that crystal, whether you like it or not.”
“The council has rules about that kind of thing, and they won’t stand for your behaviour much longer,” Dave says, steel-faced and calm. “Maybe you guys should quit while you’re ahead.”
Meathead laughs. “The only rules I care about are the rules of the jungle. The council can send its so-called enforcers. I’ll take on all comers, and I’m definitely not afraid to include a bunch of neckbeards in fedoras.”
“Yeah?” Alec sneers. “Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, ’cause that’s what your mother said last night.”
I apply my palm to my face. Not helping, Alec!
I’m feeling the urge to try and do something before this escalates, but I’m not too keen to jump into a conflict right after getting here.
On the other hand, if I’m joining this team, this is kind of my conflict already.
I hesitate. I’m not too sure about the other two, but I like Dave. He seems like a solid teammate. And it seems like I might not actually have many options...
A vein throbs on Meathead’s forehead. “Why you little—”
“They’re just stalling, Bruce,” Lego-ass warns the beefstick next to him. “I saw the scars on the trigot; if we wait for her Qi to recharge there’ll be trouble. We need to act now.”
Meathead takes a deep breath. “Right, I’ve had about enough of this, anyway.” He points a meaty finger at Kaitlynn. “I’m going to give you to the count of three to toss that crystal over.”
“And if I don’t?” Kaitlynn asks, sticking her nose up. However, I can see her fists tremble.
She’s about to cave, isn’t she? Ugh, screw it, I’m doing this.
I creep forward on my side-branch, till it gets thin—relatively speaking, as it still has a two-foot diameter—and sit down, the picture of nonchalance. This places me perched over the middle ground between the two parties, unfortunately still about twenty feet away from their branch, with nothing but Aether between me and the forest floor. It’s as close as I can safely get right now, so it’ll have to do.
“If you don’t...” Meathead rolls his meaty head to the side until his neck audibly cracks. “If you don’t, I’ll throw the three of you off this branch, and pry it—and whatever else you might have—from your cold, dead—”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I don’t think so, buddy.”
CHAPTER 24
The amazing adventures of...
ALL OF A SUDDEN, there’s eight eyes on me.
Probably eight eye-crystals as well, but I have no way to tell.
Meathead frowns. “How about you mind your—”
“All business is the council’s business,” I interrupt him coolly. “After all, the council represents the collective will of the survivors.”
“Ugh, finally one of you shows up!” Kaitlynn exclaims. “I called Samuel ages ago!”
I can feel my brows start to rise but I quickly control it and maintain my relaxed smile. I doubt she knows I’m bluffing, so she probably really did call him over the Social System.
“Wait a minute!” Lego-ass exclaims, his eyes widening as he needlessly points at me. “I recognise you! You told me you weren’t going to the Con! How the hell did you end up here, Nonya?”
I fight so hard to keep my face in check when he calls me that, but I can’t for the life of me hold back my grin.
Alec snorts. “Dude, was the fact that she told you her name was Nonya not enough to tip you off?”
Lego-ass blinks. “What? I...” he trails off, his face turning red.
Weasel pulls Meathead’s sleeve with an alarmed look on his face. “Disregarding that Luke got snubbed, Bruce, she is wearing all black...” he stage-whispers loud enough for everyone to hear.
Good thing I had my jacket on when Lego-ass—or Luke, apparently—met me; if he’d seen the logo on my back, the jig would be up.
Meathead looks me over and folds his arms back over his chest. “So. A lone enforcer. Is the council having some issues with recruitment?” he asks mockingly.
Hook, line, and sinker. Just gotta make sure they don’t catch sight of that hideous logo on my back.
“Oh, there’s plenty of us,” I reply, glancing down at my nails. “Samuel sent me ’cause I’m enough on my own.”
Note to self: find out who Samuel is.
“Now, how about you leave these people alone,” I continue, “and I’ll leave this at a warning.”
He stares at me in silence. Shit, is he not buying it after all? Poker face, poker face pah pah poker f—stop that, Emma.