“Yeah, but what is it?” asked Jake. “They certainly didn’t seem to know.” He tried to remember the specific things Alys and Torin had said. As he replayed the overheard conversation a new piece of the puzzle clicked into place for him. “They think Kari knows what it means. At least, they think she’s supposed to know. That’s why they called her the Interpreter, and that’s why this Prime person is keeping her here!”
“I thought Prime was the guy messing around with your program, though.” Des sounded doubtful. “I mean, shouldn’t he already know what it is if he put it there?”
“Not if it’s an anomaly. Something he didn’t plan on.” Jake turned excitedly to Des. “Sometimes when you’re working the VR, trying something new, an older part of the code breaks down. The instructions are incompatible. You get weird glitches and anomalies, maybe stuff like this. Most of the time you don’t even realize you’ve broken something, and when you finally stumble across it you’ve got to spend hours and hours tracking the fault and figuring out how to fix whatever it is. That must be what Prime is doing!”
“I get it,” said Des slowly. “No, yeah, I get it. Like that time our water pipe was leaking in the wall over the fuse box. Any time somebody ran the kitchen faucet, the whole house shorted out. Took Mom and Dad forever to figure out what was going on.”
Jake laughed, clapping his hands. “Exactly,” he said. “Same principle. Prime knows there’s something out of whack, but he doesn’t know why, and he must think Kari can tell him.”
“We need to figure it out first, then,” decided Des, crossing his arms. “Then we beat Prime and get Kari back.”
Jake slapped Des on the shoulder, grinning wider than ever. He felt like they had reached a turning point and that from now on things were tipping in their favor. He was glad to have his friend along. He pointed to the scrap of parchment Des still held, crumpled in one hand.
“So where’s the next event?”
The two boys sat down on top of the boulder. Jake pulled out his map again, and Des slowly deciphered the coordinates for the next anomalous event. Jake looked for the coordinates on his map, his excitement growing by the moment.
“That used to be Indigo Fjord,” he said, pointing to a spot on his map. “Looks a little different now, like there’s a big lake there instead. Maybe the ankhs all show up underwater?”
Des shook his head, not caring how the ankh manifested itself. He was staring at the distance between Jake’s finger on the map and the two very small, orange dots at the bottom. “There’s no way we can get there in time,” he said. He glanced toward the skyline, even though he knew there was nothing there. “We don’t even know for sure how much time is left.”
“Display System Time!” shouted Jake.
Ten feet ahead of them, a small white box appeared with a digital clock. It hovered in midair for five second before disappearing. Jake was elated that at least this one feature still responded to his commands.
“How’d you do that?” asked Des, shocked. “Why didn’t you do it before?”
“VR system function,” Jake said. “I wasn’t sure it would work, but I guess it’s completely separate from Xaloria. Remember, tomorrow is tomorrow regardless of how much time goes by. And no matter what Prime does to time inside the game, we’ve still got just over twenty-four hours to get to Indigo Fjord.”
“What are we waiting for, then?” asked Des, bounding to his feet and slapping one hand against the other. “Let’s get moving!”
Chapter 18
Jake handed off the reins to a stable boy in front of the Emerald Wing, glancing up at the chipped wooden sign swinging from its iron post out over the door of the inn. The wood was old, rotten in places, and the paint mostly chipped away. It matched the building, which was in a similar state of aged disrepair.
A dozen feet away, Des chatted easily with a local hawker he had flagged down as the merchant cruised up and down the street of broken cobblestones carrying a broad wooden tray on a strap around his neck. The man was selling “relics,” which he’d supposedly bought from adventurers. Since Jake had never seen this particular merchant before, and as far as he knew there weren’t any other true adventurers in Xaloria, he assumed the merchandise was all fake.
“Yeah,” he heard Des argue with the man. “But surely you’d know someone who’s interested, even in just a few of them?” Des held up a handful of the archaic gold coins, jingling them on his palm. “I’m telling you, we found them in a treasure chest buried deep within an ancient, forgotten tomb in the southlands. My friend over there had to slay a mountain troll, and we fought a spectral wizard to boot. Why, these coins here must be a thousand years old!”
He glanced over at Jake standing outside the inn, throwing him a wink as he told the merchant – truthfully, in a sense – the age of the useless coins. Jake shook his head, stifling a laugh, and headed for the heavy oaken door leading into the Emerald Wing. The door hung slightly askew in its frame, another sign of poverty and the passing time.
Unlike Everheart, which had blossomed into a rich and bustling city over the centuries, the township called Flight had dwindled into a pathetic scattering of two-room houses, many of them abandoned and all in varying states of disrepair. This village was dying, slowly drying up. In another few years, there’d be no one here at all. Jake paused at the door to the inn, looking around the sad village and taking in the boarded up windows and faded paint. He had designed Flight as a major crossroads for commerce, and the town had been rich and beautiful. All that was gone now. With a sigh, Jake pushed through the crooked door and went into the inn.
Like the rest of Flight, the Emerald Wing was worn out and tired. The yew tables were stained and scarred, and Jake thought there were fewer than there should be. A glance at the wide stone fireplace told him where at least some of the furniture had gone, though the blaze on the hearth was low and sputtering at the moment. The floors were scuffed from centuries of dirty boots and shifting tables. Grime clouded the windows, blocking out his view of the street and most of the light that should have shone through as well. The interior of the common room was draped in heavy shadow, pitifully illuminated by the dying fire and a handful of greasy oil lamps hanging from the heavy, sagging beams of the ceiling. The lamps cast a sullen, yellow glow over the dozen or so listless peasants lingering about the bar.
Jake straightened his shoulders as if the gloom were a physical weight he was trying to dislodge. Striding across the common room, he chose a table not too far from the door and sat down to wait for Des. Hopefully the thief would manage some kind of trade with the hawker. Otherwise, they’d be sleeping outside again.
He hadn’t been waiting long when a young man, not far from Jake’s own age, approached his table hesitantly. The young man wore clean, if threadbare, clothes of homespun wool. A dingy apron that hadn’t been white for years was belted about his scrawny waist. The boy eyed Jake’s shining chainmail and cleared his throat.
“Good day to you, noble sir,” he said in a childlike voice, keeping his eyes averted from Jake’s face as if afraid to meet the knight’s eyes. “I’m Gravin, sir, the innkeeper’s son. Can I get you an ale or any other refreshment?”
“In a minute,” Jake said distractedly, waving the boy away. “I’m waiting for a friend.”
“As you say, sir,” Gravin quickly agreed. “I’ll be off washing the bar, then. Come on up if you change your mind.”
Jake thanked the boy, still distracted by his own thoughts. He hardly noticed when the underfed lad left the table. A few minutes later, Des came strutting through the front door with a huge grin and a bulging pouch dangling from one hand. Spotting Jake, he came straight over and sat down on the other side of the table.
“Fifty Imperial marks,” he declared, dropping the heavy pouch on the table between them. It clanked against the wood, large coins shifting inside. Des spread his arms, pleased with himself. “Not bad, huh?”
“Pretty good,” said Jake. “How many coins did you hav
e to trade for this?”
“All of them,” admitted Des. “Let’s see, I think I had about twenty. The merchant said he’d buy more if we had them. So, if you have some…”
Jake shrugged. “Fifty marks ought to last us for a while. Let’s get something to eat, then get a couple rooms. After that, we’re off to see the Flightmaster.”
Des stayed at the table, waiting for Jake to go to the bar for some food and two mugs of cider. Jake returned after a couple minutes looking shell-shocked and very unhappy. Des sat up straighter in the uncomfortable chair. “What is it?”
“Twenty marks,” Jake muttered, shaking his head slowly. “Twenty marks for a room for the night and two meals.”
Des groaned loudly just as Gravin came out from behind the bar and hurried over to their table. Jake had left the bar in such a hurry, he’d forgotten to tell the innkeeper’s son they wouldn’t be needing the room after all. The lad looked hopeful as he came up to them, his mind obviously still on those twenty marks.
“We’ve only got fifty marks between us!” blurted Des, still reeling over the unexpectedly low value of his trade. Hearing this, Gravin drew up short and eyed the two adventurers skeptically.
“Smooth going,” Jake muttered as the innkeeper’s son frowned at him sternly.
“Fifty marks between you?” said Gravin. “And you wanting supper and two rooms first, not just the one, and asking after the Flightmaster? Mad, you are.”
“Forget the food and rooms,” said Des, just as his stomach growled hungrily. He winced, but plowed on. “We just need to get to the Flightmaster, right Jake? How much to get to…where was it called, Indigo Fjord?”
“Never heard of any Indigo Fjord,” said Gravin, sullen now that he knew these travelers weren’t planning to spend their coins in the Emerald Wing.
“It’s in the far north,” Jake said, pulling out his map and showing the boy. Gravin’s eyes widened when he saw the magical map shifting and changing its display, but then when he saw where the other two wanted to go he laughed out loud.
“What, up in the Wastelands? Way up there by the Great Blue Barrier? What’d you want to go there for?”
“Wastelands?” echoed Des unenthusiastically.
“Well, you’ll never get there,” Gravin went on, ignoring the sinking look on Des’s face. “Not for fifty marks, you won’t. Flightmaster Ovrun’ll never let anyone go that far for, let’s see, less than a hundred, maybe one fifty. Each.”
Jake and Des exchanged a despairing look. “It’s more than a week’s ride,” moaned Des. “We’ll never make it in time.”
“Time for what?” asked Gravin, cocking his head curiously.
Des and his big mouth, thought Jake sourly. First he gives away how little money we’ve got, now this. He looked at Gravin, wondering if they could trust the innkeeper’s boy or not. Then he looked around the dingy common room, taking in the disreputable looks of the other patrons.
“Say, Gravin,” he said, hiding his nervousness with a conversational tone. “Is there someplace else we can talk things over? Someplace a little more private?”
Gravin studied him curiously for a long moment before nodding his head. A small cloud of dust flew from his lank hair as he did, but before it had settled on the table the innkeeper’s son had turned away and started toward the kitchen door to one side of the bar. Looking back once, he motioned Jake and Des to follow. He led them through the sweltering kitchen, passing behind an enormously fat, sweating woman covered in flour that clung to her damp skin. There was a tiny storeroom in the back, tucked away next to the door that led out to the rear yard, and Gravin led them there.
When they were all crowded inside the cramped room, barely more than a pantry lined with shelves holding all manner of ingredients in clear glass jars or burlap sacks, Gravin eyed the two adventurers again. It was clear that he was just as uncertain of them as Jake was of him.
“We can talk here,” Gravin told them in a low voice. “Now what’s it about?”
Jake sighed, and launched into their story. He spoke quickly and left out almost all the details, sticking to the main points. “So this Prime, he’s kidnapped our friend Kari and we have to rescue her. That’s why we need to get to…what did you call it, the Great Blue Barrier? And we have to get there a little over two hours before the sun goes down tomorrow.”
Gravin listened to it all, nodding in places, shaking his head in others. He nodded when Jake named the Barrier, and Jake wondered about that. Objects under construction were blocked off by blue barriers. Was Prime building something up there? They had to find a way to get there!
Des handed the scrap of parchment over to Gravin, who looked it over with squinting eyes. “These are Universe Times,” the boy said with growing interest. He looked suspiciously up at Jake and Des, and tried to take a step back. There was no room, and he collided with a rack of shelves, causing several jars of large, oddly colored beans to shake and wobble. Gravin’s eyes were wide and he seemed afraid suddenly. “Only them that’s on the path to the Next reckon things by Universe Time.”
“The path to the Next?” Jake seized on what Gravin had said. He glanced at Des. “We heard Alys say something about that. What is it?”
Gravin gave him a look like the boy thought Jake truly was crazy, or maybe stupid. “You’re carrying this around, and you don’t know? It’s where the New Ones say they’ll go, once the Prime discovers the Final Answer.”
“Huh?” Des asked.
“Look, I don’t really understand all that stuff.” Gravin eyed them some more, then seemed to decide they were harmless after all. He shrugged, handing Des back the parchment. “For a minute there, I figured you two knew more than me. But you’re mixed up with the Prime. I don’t think I want to get involved in this.”
“Just tell us what you know,” pleaded Jake. “Please. We have to save our friend.”
Gravin shook his head quickly in vehement denial. “I don’t know nothing about it,” he insisted, a note of pleading entering his own voice. “I saw some numbers like that once before, on some papers one of the New Ones was carrying. They came through a few months back and I overheard some of what they said. That’s all I know about it, I swear. Please, leave me out of it.”
“Okay, okay,” said Jake, holding up his hands to placate the frightened boy. “Relax, Gravin. We won’t drag you into it.” He sighed, shoulders sinking in dejection. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Even if we sold the rest of our treasure, we’d never have three hundred marks to pay the Flightmaster.”
“Treasure?” echoed Gravin.
Jake nodded, pulling the last ten golden coins from his belt pouch. Gravin leaned close to inspect them in dim light of the cupboard. Jake told him, “We got the fifty marks by selling twenty of these, and this is all that’s left.”
“What are they?” asked Gravin, reaching out with one finger to poke one of the coins. “Brass?”
“No, gold,” said Jake.
“Gold!” Gravin’s eyebrows shot up as he exclaimed the word loudly, and then he clamped both hands over his mouth with wide eyes that darted back and forth to see if anyone had overheard. After a moment, he lowered his hands and shook his head. “Who gave you fifty marks for twenty of these? No, nevermind, it’s no matter. I’ll help you.”
“You will?” Des asked, taken completely aback by Gravin’s sudden change of heart.
“You don’t have to do that…” Jake started to say, but Gravin interrupted him.
“You can give me five marks each for the rooms and the meals,” he said. “I’ll tell my dad something, or make up the rest somehow. Don’t worry about that. Just give me those gold coins of yours and I’ll take care of everything.”
Jake and Des eyed each other, not sure if they could trust the innkeeper’s son. Des shook his head slightly, silently telling Jake he was against it. But Kari’s time was running out, and without the Flightmaster’s help or some miraculous teleportation spell Jake was sure didn’t exist, they’d never get ther
e in time. What choice did they have?
Chapter 19
A hand shook Jake’s shoulder, annoying him out of an exhausted slumber. He slapped the hand away without opening his eyes and rolled over on his side. The hand returned, shaking harder.
“Come on, get up.”
Grumbling, Jake blinked awake and squinted against the bright sunlight streaming through the window. The panes in the second floor windows were not so grimy as those below in the common room, and the early morning light blinded Jake as he fumbled through his memory trying to figure out where he was.
“Get up,” Gravin said again, urgently. “If you’re to reach the Barrier on time, you must get out of bed right now.”
Jake rolled over onto his back, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. Beside him, Des sat up with a sullen glare for the innkeeper’s boy.
“What’re you talking about?” he mumbled, the words slurred with sleep.
“I’m talking about the pair of you getting out of bed. Now.” Gravin snatched Des’s leather jerkin from the floor, flinging it at him. Des reacted slowly, lifting his hands to catch the garment but missing so that it struck him in the face and he fell back against the thin, straw-stuffed pillow.
“Get dressed,” Gravin said. “Hurry, we have to go.”
Jake swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his feet to the floor. The wood was cold. He just wanted to stick his feet back under the thin blanket and sleep for a few more hours. Why had Gravin woken them so early, anyway? “What’s the hurry?”
“Flightmaster Ovrun says you’ll have to leave before midday to reach the Barrier on time. It’s a half-watch until noon already. You must have been really exhausted, sleeping so late.”
That woke them. Jake and Des scrambled out of bed and began hurriedly dressing. As he pulled his armor on, Jake gave Gravin an appraising look.
“How’d you talk him into taking us?” he asked.
“By paying him,” said Gravin in a tone of voice that suggested Jake must be slow in the head. The innkeeper’s son produced a bulging leather pouch from behind his back and tossed it to Des. “Here’s the rest of your marks, by the by.”
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