Well Done

by Andrew Seiple

  No matter how much her mental fortitude grew, she knew she’d never get used to this. The calm before the storm, the quiet time before the screaming, putting everything on the line to see her hopes and dreams become reality.

  It would be decided in a matter of hours, at most.

  Her sister would be alive and free, or they would all be dead or captured or worse.

  “How are the others doing? How are you doing, for that matter?” Chase asked Renny.

  “Oh? Uh... well, the others are off in their rooms. The people here, anyway. Cagna’s in right now, Carmina’s watching out at the lookout point.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m excited! And a little scared. But mostly excited! I liked Greta, and it’ll be good to see her again!”

  “We’re going to be fighting. Possibly killing some people. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yeah, well, they’re going around and threatening to kill people for their crystals. And they kidnapped Greta, so they’re bad guys. If they die, it’s okay.”

  Chase smiled. Then the smile faded. “I feel a little guilty for dragging you into this. Was this what you expected when you decided to stay here in my land? To travel with us?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect,” Renny said, raising his paws. He didn’t really have much in the way of shoulders, so this was his equivalent of a shrug. “But this is what I signed up to do. Explore interesting places, meet fun people, help the good ones and stop the bad ones. And have fun with my illusions along the way, too! It’s been good. And someday I’ll go back home again and meet my friends and tell them about all the fun I’ve been having. And you can visit too! It’s safe in a way that this place isn’t. Our big war is over, and there’s no Inquisition there, and all the dragons are really little compared to the one that’s here.”

  Home.

  Now there was a thought.

  Chase rolled it around in her mind and found herself remembering Bothernot. How stifling it had seemed at the time, how boring and backwards and small.

  But she found herself missing the way the bees sounded in spring, and the smell of hay at the end of summer, and the way the rain rolled off the windowsills when it came in on muggy nights.

  There was a lump in her throat now, so she hugged Renny and he chuckled and hugged her back. “I understand,” she told him. “I’ll come visit. I don’t know when, but I will. But you come visit me too, all right? When all this is done, I mean.”

  “Is anything really done?” Renny asked.

  “Maybe. Hopefully. Tonight will be one more thing crossed off our list.” she sighed. “If we can save the world, that will be done. Hopefully we can figure that out.”

  “We’ll see what we can find in the compound. Maybe they’ve got a world-ending button or something, and we can break it!”

  “Maybe,” Chase found herself smiling. “I’ll go check on the others, I think. I want to make sure they’re good too.”

  “Okay!” Renny said, and watched her go, glass eyes flickering in the candlelight.

  Cagna and Bastien were easy to find. Their boots were right outside the door down the hall.

  But Chase knew those noises coming from behind the door, muffled as they were. Face flushing, she retreated down the stairs. They were good, they were fine. Chase would not grudge them their joy, and she found a smile on her face as she descended the steps. About time, really.

  On the second floor down, she found the door she was looking for and knocked.

  “Come in,” Corinthia called.

  Chase entered, meeting the gaze of the glass-eyed dolls that lined the room, and finding the sole living woman among them sitting at a table in the center, braiding her hair. She wore a nightgown with faded cloth bunnies sewn into the sleeves. “Is it time?”

  “No, not yet,” Chase said, glancing at the light streaming in through one of the cracks, the dust swirling around as it passed through. “We won’t move until nightfall, probably. Maybe a bit beyond, depending on what Cagna and Carmina see.”

  “In a way I’m relieved. This is probably the first time I’ve ever planned something violent,” the older woman confessed. “Everything else has either been defense or losing my temper. And I’m not proud of that one time, either.” Her face fell slack as she looked her dolls over. Then faded eyes found Chase’s gaze again. “Are you sure you want me along on this? Those Mercenaries your friend hired are probably more than up to the challenge.”

  “I’m positive,” Chase said. “You’re our backup plan if everything goes wrong.” And also, Speranza isn’t paying your wages, so I trust you more than them, she thought to herself. But she didn’t say it. Airing those particular worries wouldn’t make Corinthia’s life any easier or help her in the event of the worst-case scenario.

  So instead Chase said, “Aside from general worries, are you good? Are you well?”

  “Well enough. I wish we didn’t have to do this.” Corinthia pulled out a pair of knitting needles and an embroidery round. Click click click, and her face eased a bit. “But they were quite clear on what happened if we didn’t turn over our crystals. And my people don’t want to do that, so we have to fight them. It’s better to do it now, before they come for us.”

  “You don’t agree with that?” Chase tilted her head. “With your people, I mean?”

  “Eh... well, it doesn’t affect me personally. Some families around here keep their wealth in crystals. They’re worth more than gold. Some have heirlooms handed down through the centuries, that they won’t give up. We were one of the wealthier neighborhoods around here, so it affects us more than most.” Corinthia grimaced. “Really, it’s just four families that would face troubles, but they have a lot of friends and influence among the community. I would have never heard the end of it if I stood against them.”

  “That sounds a lot like how my village worked,” Chase said. “Then it got swarmed by undead. The zombies didn’t really care who was rich and who had a lot of friends.”

  “What happened?”

  “I tricked the stupid people into leaving town while the good people ended up mostly dying to save everyone,” Chase said, staring morosely at Corinthia’s knitting needles. Then her ears twitched, as she felt her lips harden into a scowl. “The survivors owe us so much, and they’d rather die before acknowledging it. You aren’t expecting gratitude for this, I hope?” She wasn’t sure where this streak of bitterness had come from, but it felt good to air.

  When she looked up, some of that good feeling went away. The older woman’s face was filled with pity, and Chase looked away as her own eyes warmed and tears threatened. “Oh dear,” Corinthia said, pausing her knitting to pat Chase on the shoulder. “No one takes you for granted like your friends and neighbors, like the ones who you grew up next to year after year. They won’t truly understand what we’re doing here, not really. But we’re not doing that for them. We’re doing it for ourselves.”

  “We’re doing it for them, too,” Chase said, remembering the faces of the vigilantes.

  “Yes, but we’re doing it because it needs doing.” Corinthia smiled. “And because it’s my home, too. These foul people are in league with the evil that burned my city and killed hundreds or thousands. They’re proud to serve him! They even have matching uniforms, to show how proud they are of slaughter.” Her smiled turned sharp. “Revenge might be a cold dish, but well, I’ve found I don’t mind the cold so much.” She reached behind her, and one of the dolls moved up like a kitten, to nuzzle at her fingers. She rubbed its head absentmindedly, tousling the porcelain child’s hair.

  That was creepy enough to break Chase out of her mood. She shook her head and pushed her unease down. Corinthia was good people. And she was at peace with the mission, so that was the important part.

  “You’re right,” the halven nodded. “I’ll leave you to your knitting, then.”

  “Very well, dear. Please do come back if you want to sit and chat some more. I haven’t had much chance for that as I’d l
ike, these last few days.”

  Chase found her feet and left, picking her way out into the hall and down the tilting stairs. She needed to half lean backward and use the railing for the last few steps. The air was coldest down here, and her throat itched. Dry now, dry and cold after the rain. Too many cracks down here to plug, which was why there were no lights. No light, save the moonlight that filtered in from the east.

  And in the sitting room, light glittered from the strings of a guitar. A Painish-style guitar, with Morian carvings along the spine. Speranza sat hunched over it, tightening and fussing with the tuning pegs, plucking a string every few seconds.

  “That’s ah, that’s a bit loud,” Chase said, worried. They weren’t that far from the patrols.

  “Renny put up a wall of silence around this room,” Speranza replied, her tone suggesting her mind was miles away.

  “Oh.” Chase nodded. “That makes sense.”

  A grunt was her only reply.

  Chase weighed her options and decided to try patience. She dragged a stool over and clambered up it, balancing carefully to keep it from tipping over. Then she leaned back against one of the walls and watched the Bard work.

  “I don’t grudge them, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Speranza finally said.

  “What?”

  “Bastien and Cagna. She’s beautiful in her own way. And he knew her before he knew me, so there’s more of a connection, really.”

  It took a second for Chase to understand what she was getting at.

  It took a tenth of a second to realize that laughing her ass off would probably burn any chance of establishing a good relationship with the incredibly dangerous player across from her. “You’re ah, you’re right,” Chase said, rubbing her cheek to cover her face. “This has been building for a while, really. They’ve just been quiet about it.”

  “I shouldn’t have let myself get sidetracked anyway. We’ll reunite with Thomasi soon, and we’ll be together after that.” Speranza’s teeth glittered in the moonlight, contrasting against the dark shadow that was her face. Were her eyes shut? Or was it just the way the light fell?

  Thomasi might not be so happy about your reunion with him, Chase knew. His journal had mentioned her briefly. Her obsession with the Ringmaster was one-sided, though he’d been far too polite to discourage her delusion.

  If things worked out, then sooner or later he’d have to pay the price for his courtesy. They all would, depending on her reaction.

  But that would be then, and this was now. First, they’d have to survive the night. “Are you all right with your part in the plan?” Chase asked.

  “What?”

  “The assault.”

  A pause, and a series of notes, as Speranza strummed the strings. “I have to tell you, this isn’t my usual preference. I’m not— I wasn’t one for being in the thick of things.”

  “Me neither,” Chase confessed. “But every time I’ve tried to keep things at arm’s length, sooner or later things come to me.”

  Speranza nodded. “Like the Inquisition came for me.”

  “Would you like to talk about that?”

  “We can,” Speranza took a deep breath, let it out with a skirl of notes. The opening chords of a song, perhaps. “It’s not a good memory. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get too deep into the details.”

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Chase offered. “I trust your judgment.” In this, at least, but she kept that thought to herself.

  CHA+1

  “Thank you. Ah... where to begin?” The player said, leaning forward in her chair. “It was shortly after the patch. They were supposed to be upgrading the system, making things more realistic. It was the worst bout of lag we’d ever had. A lot of confusing system messages passing by... I’ve forgotten most of them. “World interface error,” that was the big one. That was the night I found out that I could be hurt. We all found out, either then or shortly thereafter.” No smile now, those white teeth gone. Only shadows in the moonlight. “And then we found out we were trapped.”

  “And that your revival wasn’t working properly?”

  “Oh, I didn’t find that out until much later. I was set up in one of the northern lands, in a nation that isn’t there anymore. I’d become a close confidant of the Baron... if you know what I mean,” she chuckled. “Quite close. His wife didn’t approve, but I played the courtly games better than she did. It was fun, and it got me Courtier levels like you wouldn’t believe. I was a queen in all but name.”

  Chase shoved down fifteen years’ worth of Halven country values and judgmental platitudes. “It sounds nice,” she managed.

  “It was... but... things changed.” Speranza’s tone turned mournful. “I had built myself a position as a middleman, a go-between for the local adventurer’s guilds that took care of the barony’s troubles. My power crumbled as the guilds stopped adventuring.”

  “Why did they do that?” Chase had given up everything for an adventurer’s life. Sure, it was risky, but still...

  “Pain.” Speranza strummed a sharp chord. “It’s easy to be a hero when you don’t feel pain. It’s easy to die when it’s not permanent. But when you actually have to suffer? Well, a lot of people found they couldn’t take it. Players abandoned the guilds in droves, taking what money and resources they could and went to ground, trying to find places to hunker down until the... malfunction... got fixed. Until we got rescued. But time went on, and we never did. And my power waned by the day. I’d built it on sand, as it turned out. With the guilds understaffed and dissolving, the monsters crowded in; the dungeons went unsubdued, and the barony lost land and people hand over fist.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chase offered. “It sounds like it was horrible. Was this the Guild Wars?”

  “What? No. The Guild Wars were over far before that. That was mostly the big guilds sorting out who got which territories. It was good fun, really the heyday of the game!”

  Chase’s budding sympathy withered in her breast.

  The Guild Wars had rewritten the map. Entire cities had been butchered. Her own father had lost his home, and been forced into Mercenary work, and Speranza called it ‘good fun?’

  She turned away. But her face was out of the moonlight, and Speranza didn’t seem to notice.

  “No,” the player continued. “That was living the dream. But this new state of affairs? That was the nightmare. The NPC’s were smarter, too. That part of the patch worked, evidently. You were all smarter and had far more initiative. If we’d come together, if we’d organized and tried to help each other out, we might have changed the outcome. But when the Inquisition came, we were scattered, looking out for our own self-interests.” she sighed. “It didn’t help that a lot of our regular channels got knocked out. We had to rely on scouts and other skills for secure messages, when we could get them. Couriers when we couldn’t. It didn’t end well, regardless. My friends started disappearing, and then one night I woke up to find daggers at my throat, and a vile woman standing over me with an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Let me guess...”

  A snort. “Oh yes. She hasn’t changed much, over the last decade or so. If I’d known what she was dragging me into, I would have grabbed her hand and slit my throat with her own dagger. But I didn’t, and here we are.”

  “Here we are,” Chase said, softly.

  “I’ll have it all back,” Speranza said, putting the guitar down. “Find Thomasi, find some kingdom to settle down in, far from here. Far away from the Inquisition, and dragons, and troubles. There’s something out there, and we can find it. And eventually our friends back in the real world will find a way to set us free. Just have to find shelter, build a power base, and stay alive. Will you help us with this?” The question shocked Chase. Speranza had been pouring herself out, Chase hadn’t been expecting an active role in this conversation.

  “Yes,” Chase decided. “We’ll help you. And the other players, as much as we can.”

  “Others,” Speranza snorted. �
�Who’s left that’s worth mentioning?”

  “Well,” Chase said, choosing her words very carefully, “Dijornos will turn up again at some point.”

  “Dijornos.” And her teeth were back in the moonlight, arrayed in a sneer. “He’s a child. Did you know that? A punk fifteen-year-old living out his power fantasy.”

  “He’s what now?” Chase blinked.

  “Well, I suppose he’s technically older now, but he was fifteen when I first met him. Just a punk teenager with an attitude. He’s stupid enough to buy into that hard-core idiocy and pretends the pain doesn’t bother him. He’s useless. We’re better off without him.”

  “I wouldn’t mind having him along for this assault, I’ll tell you that,” Chase offered.

  “Oh don’t get me wrong, he’d make great cannon fodder. But eventually he’d get moody and drop-kick you into a wall or something. He doesn’t really care about anyone but himself.”

  Nor do you, not really, Chase thought. She felt guilty immediately after and didn’t know why for a second. Then it struck her; the woman’s charisma was so high that her sympathy was returning.

  Speranza was dangerous. She had to wrap this up. But still, curiosity drove her to ask, “What about Yubai? He seemed nice?”

  Speranza was quiet for a bit. “I was... a little misleading, earlier. You remember how I called him mentally slow?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s... well, he’s actually not a person. Not a player.”

  “Then why was the Inquisition keeping him? Was he involved with players somehow?”

  “Yes and no. To their eyes he’d be a player. See... oh, how do I explain this?” The woman huffed. “He’s something like a golem. Not a smart one like Renny. He’s a false player, set up to get all the player benefits while acting as a walking storefront.”

  “I’m having some trouble understanding this,” Chase confessed.

  “He’s a thing called a bot. Players using the game to profit and gather materials built him, and many others like him, to sell things in bulk for real-world money. Think of him like a sort of daemon that players can summon. Only in this case it’s one specific player, who might or might not be around any longer.”