by J. R. Ford
“All right,” Heather said. “But I get to choose what we do when I turn seventeen in a couple of months!”
I could’ve politely declined, gone to bed, and spent a few hours wrestling with my own inadequacy or stewing in resentment. My legs hurt so badly I actually considered it.
There was only one answer, of course, in the end.
The polished brass mirror in the washroom informed me that my cloak was a write-off. The long-sleeved white shirt beneath was heavily marred, but a rinse barely helped.
My old shoulder injury was healing smoothly. That tavern keeper on the first night had told me that food here sped recovery, but in hindsight, he’d also been trying to sell me food.
I definitely was more tan than before. Wait, no, it was mostly dirt. I scoured myself with a rough bar of oil soap, then rinsed off with a bucket of warm water.
I scratched at my chin patches and looked at the razor provided. Given another week or three, it might be called a beard, but I’d rather not suffer days of looking scruffy.
Not that it was a problem normally. But normally I didn’t keep company with pretty women. I lathered my face and neck until the soap foamed and started shaving.
I almost felt good about my appearance by the end of it. Didn’t all heroes look tired and beat up? I puffed out my chest and exited the washroom before I could take too close a look in the mirror.
Ana and Heather both looked amazing. I supposed they normally did, but even better now that days of hard travel and harder fighting had been washed away. Ana looked like a goddess, hair dark and slick and loose around her shoulders, eyes gleaming. Her dimples made her look eager. Her skin shone.
Heather’s hair had regained its golden undertones. Her smile was still weary, her dress still dyed dark, her cheek still a little swollen, and she rested back against the threshold looking as if she could drift away with the breeze. But when I approached, she straightened.
“Y’all ready?” I asked.
Two fiddlers, a guitarist, and an accordionist were having at it from atop a wooden stage. Bodies crowded the dance floor, which was the entire hall interior. A crowd huddled around a bar opposite the stage. It stank of hot sweat.
I followed Ana’s lead into the press and had no clue what to do from there besides wish I was in bed. Ana said something, but it was too loud to hear over the music and shouting, so I just shrugged. She started dancing.
As a fencer, she was elegant, precise, almost feline in her grace. As a dancer…well, I wouldn’t call it elegant, but there was definitely something about the way she banged her head and pumped her fist that upped the temperature of the hall. Heather and I bobbed along, exhausted.
“Come on!” I think Ana shouted, and I started moving my limbs. I tried not to think about what I was doing, lest I die of embarrassment. Heather pulled some half-hearted move. The fiddles dueled, each frantic in their pace, rising to a crescendo, before all four of the musicians broke out in chant.
The crowd joined them, the lyrics barely discernible, “Way, hey, up she rises!” After a couple of verses, we got the hang of it and were singing along with the rest of them, though perhaps singing is too kind a word.
Singing, strangely, made it easier to dance. Not better, just easier. I found myself smiling, and when I caught Heather’s eye, she was smiling too, though rivulets ran through her hair and down her face.
Ana grinned at both of us, her hair wild and black with sweat. We belted one last chorus, and the hall erupted in cheers. I slumped, panting. How long had we been dancing?
Before I could catch my breath, the accordion and one fiddle were introducing a new song. The chant started wistful, “Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies…” Heather mouthed along until the quartet erupted in chorus and the instruments picked up a merrier cant. Ana resumed headbanging and we joined in, ranting and roaring along when the chorus rolled around once again.
I collapsed into bed that night wearier than I’d ever been, and, perhaps, happier.
9
I woke in bliss. As I enabled my feed, I noticed I had 32 viewers. That was weird. I’d have to make double sure not to leer.
Breakfast was eggs and toast. Divine. Between bites, I asked, “How many viewers y’all got? I’m at 32.”
“Twenty,” Heather said. “I told some of my friends I game with I was coming here. I guess they told others.”
“A thousand,” Ana said around a full mouth. After swallowing, she added, “Why the grimace, Pav? Jealous?”
“Opposite.”
“I’m with him,” Heather said. “It’s intimidating, knowing that many people are rooting for us. I don’t want to let them down.”
I chewed and nodded. Personally, I was more afraid of proving myself a coward, but I couldn’t voice such a petty fear in the face of Heather’s more admirable motive.
“Relax,” Ana said. “You don’t know them, and won’t meet them, unless you visit me in New York.”
That eased my anxiety a little. I’d probably never hear their laughter or see their contempt. The “probably” brought with it a stab of melancholy.
After breakfast, we headed to the market. The stalls were crowded with midday bustle.
We first returned to the tailor’s stall. They had another couple of pale-blue dresses for Heather, though I noticed extra variety among the shelves.
“Get some new designs?” I asked the tailor.
“Monsters had infested several cotton farms, as well as some of the forests where dye ingredients can be found. The more areas players clear of monsters, the more clothes I’ll stock.”
Repairing my cloak and damaged clothes was cheap. The tailor also sold quilted caps like the ones Heather and I had both somehow lost, 2 gold apiece, but we declined. Twenty gold between three people would go fast. At least my purse wouldn’t weigh me down on our long walks.
With her new dress on, Heather had a spring in her step. The hem swayed as she bounced along, the white embroidery flitting aimlessly. I put a little swagger into my own step, standing straight, moving with my shoulders. I felt like a fool, but when I noticed Heather looking for a second, a fierce pride filled me stronger than any battle rush.
We all chipped in for a new lantern. Ana insisted we check out the smith’s stalls. We still lacked the funds for armor, but Ana’s eye had a gleam for weapons. The stall was packed, the dummy tattered.
“Okay,” she said. “We have some quest gold under out belts now. Heather, what do you want?”
I’d wondered if she’d donate Heather the Lightning Blade. Guess not. I wasn’t complaining. Ana was the most skilled warrior among us.
“How about a spear?” Heather asked. “Are they easy to use?”
“I’ll teach you. They have long reach and are good in enclosed spaces, since you mainly thrust. You can disengage against swordfighters – were you paying attention to Pav’s rapier lesson?”
“I was asleep for most of it.”
“You really should get up and watch next time. You might pick up on something.” As if I needed more viewers. Ana continued, “And we can get you one long enough to plant in the ground, so you don’t have to back away from a charging monster.”
“All right!” Heather’s cheery smile seemed to brighten the world. It made it hard not to smile back. We beamed at each other like idiots, all just happy to be alive and together.
“And Pav, you want a dagger?”
“Whatever you can find will do.”
Heather and I left it to her. There wasn’t much room, and she’d haggle better than us anyway.
“Your new dress looks good,” I told Heather, since I hadn’t yet had the chance.
Her gaze went to the ground, but she smiled. “It’s the same as the last one.”
“That one looked good too.”
“I like it too.” She twirled a little, back and forth, as if spinning in the breeze.
Ana emerged with our new weapons. The spear was taller than me — which made it way taller t
han Heather. The head bore cruciform wings, and the tail was encased in a steel cap. She took it reverently. Then Ana produced my gift.
The dagger was beautiful, about a foot long with curved prongs and a defensive ring built into the guard. The steel shone in the sunlight as I admired it.
Ana smiled at me fondly. “You look like my little brother does when I get him a present.”
I don’t think she knew it was the moment she broke my heart.
She kept talking, oblivious of the impact of her words. “Anyway, Heather, time for a spear lesson. I’m going to see if I can make a deal with the blacksmith to lend us some staves. I can put a little class together — advertisement for his spears and quick coin for us.” I told them I was hungry and left them to it. I could go for some of that amazing Bluehearth bread, true, but really I just needed to be alone for a while. I passed Pradeep’s Column and made for the alley where we three had sat on the fateful day we met.
The stone was unchanged. Still solid beneath my feet, still hard on the small of my back. The sky was the same.
The stone hadn’t changed, and neither had I. Would that I had its strength.
Sometime later, someone stepped into the alley mouth. With the sun behind him, I couldn’t see his features, only the silhouette of his large frame and belted sword. I rose slowly, wiping my face with my cloak. Was a moment alone too much to ask?
A second figure stepped into view, instantly recognizable by the shape of his robes and cape: Edwin Casper.
“This is what happens when you defy the Enlightened,” he proclaimed, the words slow and haughty.
“What do you want?” I asked. My hands gripped tight around the hilts of my rapier and dagger. A quick glance behind me informed me of another goon.
“I want you to apologize,” Edwin said.
“For what?”
“For threatening us, of course. You and that bloodthirsty bitch.”
My teeth ground together. “You attacked and humiliated Heather,” I said.
“I was teaching her a lesson. Some lessons can only be learned the hard way. Like this one.”
His goons shuffled. Words were cheap, and I didn’t have to believe them. “I’m sorry.”
“Now tell me, what were you three doing? And how does that barbarian have 260 points?”
“Mostly from killing monsters up at Pradeep’s old place.”
“And why were you there?”
“We were on a quest.”
Edwin stepped into the gloom and tapped the side of his head. His grin was far too smug. “Knowledge is power. Every mage knows this. Now, you will tell me the truth,” he said, taking his whip off its loop and caressing the leather.
No harm in telling him, I told myself. “We were looking for the Storm’s Breath.” I didn’t add, “So Heather can kick your ass.”
“Seems like you didn’t find it. The Storm’s Breath is power, and you’re still a pathetic weakling.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you even know where it is?”
Pretend time was over. This actually mattered. We didn’t have proof, only that letter, but any hint could undo all our hard work. “No.”
Edwin edged closer, and I saw his hand twitching arcane gestures somewhat rhythmically. His left robe sleeve was rolled up, and his eyes kept glancing down at the symbols he formed. “I know you’re lying. Tell me.”
Those symbols meant nothing good. I gulped. “I really don’t.”
He pointed with his hand, still jittering with a strange periodic pattern. Twin sparks flashed, ahead of and above me, and lightning burst from one to the other. It flickered and hissed, jumping between the sparks with a relentless consistency. Smoke wafted through the air. “What was that, weakling?”
Time to run. Edwin continued spamming hand signals, and lightning cracked horizontally between me and him. Deeper into the alley it was.
I turned, drawing my sword, and charged at the goon behind me. He jerked away from my darting rapier, allowing me past. I yelled, “Help!”
Then two sparks appeared before me, one on either side of the alleyway, and lightning sizzled between them. I didn’t have the time to slow or stop, so I jumped. An intense burning sensation raked through my shin, and I stumbled to my knees. Smoke curled from my trouser leg. “I just got these mended,” I gasped.
“Hah!” Edwin shouted, and began walking toward me, hand still jittering in arcane gesture. “Now, spit it out: where’s the Storm’s Breath?”
“Frostbank,” I said, climbing to my feet.
“You aren’t as good a liar as you think you are.”
I winced. “How do I know you won’t kill me as soon as I tell you?”
“Vedanth Durg,” Edwin said. Something on my face must’ve given it away, because he barked another laugh. “I knew it!”
I groaned. “If you already knew it, why the interrogation?”
“To see if you’d sell out your group.” He licked his lips. “I’m going to have fun beating your loyalty out of you.”
My voice betrayed me. “Try it,” I squeaked.
Edwin laughed louder, as did the goon who had repositioned himself behind me. “Think you’re a lion, little mouse? I’ll give you one chance. Say Heather is mine, and I’ll let you live.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” I mumbled. Lightning crackled before me.
I shied away. Relying on the kindness of Edwin Casper would not leave me breathing.
Running hadn’t worked. If I fought, maybe I could take one of them down.
Or I could say what he wanted me to. I thought of Heather’s smile. This was a good river to drown in.
“Pav!”
Ana appeared behind Edwin, accompanied by Heather and four strangers with staves and nervous looks.
“Leave Pavel alone, and you’ll leave here alive!” Ana shouted.
Edwin sized them up. “Getting newbies to do your bidding? Typical.” He and his goons stepped away, but he turned back and addressed Ana’s students-turned-militia. “If any of you want to become apprentices to the most powerful mage in the game, instead of being pawns of this bully, you’ll earn a steady wage and guaranteed spells. We leave tomorrow to raid Vedanth Durg.”
“Get!” Ana said, and he and his goons slinked away.
The newbies looked shook. “Lesson’s over! Go return those staves!” Ana said, and they dispersed. She and Heather rushed over to me. “What happened? I thought you were getting food.”
He got me with some spell, but I don’t think he got it from finding the Storm’s Breath. He was looking for it, and I think he confirmed that it’s near Vedanth Durg.” There was a line of tender flesh across my shin, and all the hair along it had been singed.
“Let’s get some water on that,” Ana said. I took a couple of tentative steps. Sore, but not excruciating. Ana helped me down and produced her canteen.
“Not a day in the city and he’s already causing us trouble again,” Ana said. “We should do something about it.”
“Like what?”
The same dark fantasy played out on our faces. Without a word, we rejected it. This might’ve been a game, but it was real enough that I didn’t want to murder someone in cold blood.
But I had another idea. “Y’all notice, when you put down a magic item, you lose the 100 points?”
“No,” Ana said, handing me the Lightning Blade. I got, “Acquired Lightning Blade: +100.” Ana said, “Oh! ‘Lost Lightning Blade: -100’!”
I saw the same when I handed it back. “We could steal his whip,” I said.
“That would take him down a notch,” Ana said.
Heather looked horrified.
“Just run up to him and grab it?” Ana asked.
“I was thinking more of a burglary job. Better if he doesn’t know it was us.”
“You really think he wouldn’t immediately blame us? After what just happened?”
“Better if there’s no proof, and we’re long gone before he notices. We can hit his pl
ace tonight and set off for Tyrant’s Vale immediately after.”
“Right. There’s no way this could go badly,” Heather grumbled.
“What are you worried about?” I asked.
“What if you get caught? What if the Azure Lance sees you? What if there are monsters outside the city?” The three questions tumbled over one another.
“I doubt there will be any monsters this close to the city,” I said. “And if he catches us, oh well, right? You guys caught him trying to murder me. Maybe it’ll come down to a fight this time.” I didn’t much like the idea of facing off against that electric burn spell, but my desire to put that pompous prick in his place intimidated away any doubt.
“He might kill you!”
“And we might kill him.” I was starting to think maybe we should just assassinate him.
Heather shook her head, annoyed at getting nowhere. “And if the Azure Lance finds you?”
“It’s not like they’re real police.”
“I don’t fancy this,” Heather said, at the same time Ana said, “I’m in.”
Ana’s lips curved in a wicked grin. “He has it coming for what he’s done to the two of you.”
“No,” Heather said with a tone of finality.
We both looked at her. “You don’t think he deserves it?” Ana asked.
“No. I mean, yes, but we shouldn’t risk getting hurt over it!”
“Risk getting hurt,” I said, “when he was about to kill me?”
Ana and I looked at each other. Her eyes told me, “If you’re with me, let’s do it.” I smiled.
“We’re not going to go behind your back,” Ana told Heather. “But we will do this thing, with or without you.”
Heather frowned but set her jaw. “Then I’ll come with.”
That afternoon, we cased the guild hall. The Brazilian pub adjacent was bustling even though it wasn’t far past noon. Either it was a day off adventuring or, perhaps more sensibly, these people chose to make merry with their time in-game rather than risk death and pain.
Although we were trying to blend in, we only drank water. We needed to keep our wits about us, not in the piss trough.