Visceral: A GameLit Fantasy Adventure (Nullifier Book 2)

by J. R. Ford

  From the top of the tower, it was a six-foot gap to the barracks roof. The open patio below was choked with yellow. We made the jump non-magically.

  I touched down soundlessly, quiet enough to hear the thump of Farrukh’s landing. I whispered, “Hey, I make less noise than you now!”

  He eyed my Boots of Nullify Sound, which were glowing faintly purple. “Good. I don’t know how you ever got the drop on anyone without those.”

  “You never taught me,” I protested.

  “Maybe I should’ve drilled you in stealth rather than javelin tossing. Then I’d get to play with that new javelin of yours. But you need it more than me anyway — I have my bow.”

  Guilt tugged at me. Between the Boots of Nullify Sound on my feet and the Javelin of Impaling on my belt, I was now rank 1. Meanwhile, Farrukh hadn’t gotten a new cantrip or magic item since he’d joined the party, despite needing the points more than I did.

  But I had an idea. “Do you understand the possession mechanic? The way what we’re wearing is affected by spells like shapeshift and nullify momentum?”

  “I call it ‘equipment’.”

  Decent name. “And it gives you 100 points for carrying a magic item. Now, when we die, we get cash based on how many points we’d earned, right?”

  “Where are you going with this?”

  “If you ever get hurt, and we’re out of potions, I’ll make everyone give you their magic items. It’ll net you at least another 300. A burial for a king, to bring you riches in the afterlife. And once you’re dead, we’ll strip your corpse.”

  Farrukh chuckled. It was too dark to tell if the glint in his eye was a tear. “That’s kind of you. But I’d rather not die.”

  I clapped his shoulder. “Then let’s not die together.”

  We shimmied to get a look into the blue tower.

  Absame stood proudly in the threshold, blasting lightning bolts across the bridge. A bright blue line ran down his throat, disappearing beneath his ragged tabard and chainmail.

  And behind him — “Chen!” I whispered.

  “She’s a Lancer.”

  She was slumped, leaning on her spear. Absame must’ve captured her in their attack on the old rebel base, the same attack that had killed Ha-Jun. But if Absame had offered joining on one hand and death on the other…wouldn’t be a bad way to go, but some people didn’t want to go at all.

  Her decision, not mine. Unless she defected, she was in our way.

  Absame made some unknown symbols, and from his mouth, a thick cloud issued. It spread over the bridge. The apprentices below us pelted the fog with missiles and cantrips, surely expecting the Lancers to advance under the cloud cover.

  Time to turn back. If the Lancers emerged, they’d have a close vantage to spot us from. But Farrukh grabbed my shoulder and pointed.

  Beside the barracks, a great hall was lined with tall windows. Edwin stood outside its gates, gesturing and shouting, but we were too far away to hear. His movements looked ridiculous in his voluminous, gaudy robes. The hall roof was ten feet down, exposed to the apprentices on the barracks patio.

  But they were preoccupied with approaching Lancers, and any knowledge we could gain might help save the city.

  Farrukh tied a rope to a beam, then we both leapt to the hall. I nullified our momentum at the last moment, and we scuttled over the roof’s peak, onto the lee side where we’d be shielded from view from the barracks patio. If any apprentices spotted us on the way, at least we hadn’t been shot.

  Creeping close to the edge, I could hear what Edwin was shouting. “Yao, hex the trapdoor. Once they think they’ve won, ambush them… Go! I’m not a child, I can protect myself. Don’t be so clingy.”

  I peeked over. Yao was hustling into the barracks. Edwin said something to another orange-robed adept, but I could only discern his arrogant cant.

  He was directly beneath me. I could jump down there and kill him, easy as breathing.

  Stupid thoughts. I’d be dead soon after. The Javelin on my hip was a better gamble, but if I missed, Edwin would have it. Our best shot was Farrukh, who already had his bow in hand.

  An apprentice scurried out of the barracks. “Up there!” she cried.

  Edwin jerked aside in time to dodge Farrukh’s arrow. He incanted with quick rhythm, and just as the third ping of nullify spell rang in my head, a lightning bolt streaked up at us. My null ring dissipated it, leaving only a sear across my vision.

  “Your aim’s gotten better,” I said.

  He targeted his response at Farrukh while ducking behind an adept with a wide round shield. “Ranger! Five hundred gold if you leave the city! You don’t have to die alongside your pathetic friends!”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t,” Farrukh said, loosing another arrow without pause. It embedded itself in the shield, causing the adept to flinch.

  Another adept charged an electric fireball. I nullified another lightning bolt, then the fireball, and the fireball thrower went down with an arrow in his breast. The rest of them scattered.

  They would return soon, with bows. Farrukh dashed for the rope.

  “Haven’t met your end yet, weakling?” Edwin shouted, still casting. He raised his hand, two fingers pointing and glowing electric blue. Then he twisted.

  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: the selfish are predictable. I leapt. Lightning streaked toward Farrukh, only to disappear into my outstretched hand. I ducked low, incanted redirect momentum, and leapt up after him.

  We sprinted over the barracks roof and cleared the gap to the turret. The Lancers had the remaining Enlightened on the patio pressed to the crenellations, until a trapdoor in the middle banged open and a torrent of yellow and orange frothed out, led by Yao with his thick cleaver. They piled on Absame, but he spat fog at his feet, which expanded to surround him. An instant later, sheet lightning pulsed through the cloud, and when it dispersed, apprentices were charred on the ground around him. But more poured from the trapdoor.

  We passed the trussed Lancer, who had spilled her water and was sobbing silently. We untied her, kicked her out onto the parapet, and re-barricaded the door.

  The eastern sky was yellow. We hurried back to the base.

  Ana looked like hot steel. “Hey.”

  “Absame has consumed the Storm’s Breath,” Farrukh said. “It must’ve been powering the walls.”

  “What can we do?” Priyanka asked.

  “When we left, Edwin had him on the ropes,” I said. “If he pushes Absame out, he’ll be able to unlock the red tower.”

  “Perfect,” Ana said, though it seemed far from. “Once they’ve weakened each other, we can swoop in and nab the Knucklebones.”

  “And the defenses?” Luis asked. “The Knucklebones won’t matter if the city is razed like White Fir.”

  Ana thought for a moment. “Back when we raided Riyaasat, Heather drank a potion of Storm mana and used it to power up the walls. Maybe we can make Absame power Bluehearth again.”

  “If he doesn’t kill us instead,” Jeremiah said.

  “As if. I have a plan, but it’s dicey. I’ll need all of your help.” She turned to the rebels. “I can’t guarantee your safety. By following me, you’re risking your lives. That’s a choice I can’t make for you. But I promise you, I’ll do my best to load the dice in our favor.”

  “I’ll help!” Priyanka said without hesitation. “I don’t get to fight for my friends like this on Earth.” For a moment, I glimpsed something in her eyes other than her usual good cheer. It was quickly replaced by easy confidence.

  “I’m yours,” Troy said, steady.

  Luis paused, then nodded. “If I can help stop what happened to White Fir happening here, I’ll do what I can.”

  Zhao put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I’ll look after the wounded. They won’t attack a noncombatant.”

  We turned to Jeremiah. He looked at Farrukh, then down.

  “I need your head in the game,” Ana said.

  “You’re putting your
trust in the wrong person.”

  “We need you. Everyone here is ready to fight, but you’re the most experienced. If things get hairy, you’ll need to keep the situation under control.”

  Troy was still shiny with sweat from her sword drills. Priyanka had Farrukh’s old black bow in her hands. Luis had a spear, presumably stolen from the Lance. Zhao had a roll of gauze and a bottle of ointment.

  “I wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

  “Will you try?”

  He looked up. “For them, and for you.”

  I recognized that same yearning that had driven me to stand beside Ana in the first place. Guess that was what it took, sometimes. Farrukh was smirking.

  Ana beamed. “You’ll be carving us a foothold in the Citadel,” she said. “Pavel, Farrukh, you’re with me. I have some promises to keep.”

  Time to save my girlfriend or die failing.

  22

  One day, I might learn my lesson about trying to talk to Lancers. This was not that day.

  “Emily!” I whispered.

  She and two Lancers whirled on me. They’d been gazing out over the river, and thanks to my silent boots, they hadn’t noticed my approach. I knocked the two crossbows aside, bolts tumbling from their grooves, then danced away from Emily’s spearpoint.

  “Calm down, I’m here to talk,” I said. “And if either of you raises a crossbow at me, Farrukh will put an arrow in you.” They didn’t look any less perturbed, but neither went to reload. “Any sign of orcs?”

  Emily didn’t seem threatened. “Our scouts report they’re mobilizing upriver.”

  “You and your two goons going to repel them? On unpowered walls?”

  “Absame didn’t leave Bluehearth undefended. We have reserves in the city and agents rousing a militia from the unaligned. We’ll hold them until Absame’s cleaned up the Citadel, and he’ll bring the rest of the Lance too.” Ana hustled up the stairs during the monologue. Farrukh materialized not long after, an arrow nocked.

  “I don’t think Absame will be showing up anytime soon,” I said, thinking of the tide of Enlightened that had swept over the barracks patio. “But there’s one more problem.”

  “Three: you. Get out of here. This is no time to be fighting among ourselves.”

  I didn’t take it personally. “We need your help. We think a strike party’s on its way ahead of the main body.”

  “Thanks for the intel. Now leave it to us.”

  “I’m not done. Pradeep Lokesh, a level 5, is leading them, and he’s taken Heather captive. She can transmute these walls to water.”

  “Then we’ll shoot her.”

  “What? No!” I said. Ana put hand on hilt. Emily shifted into a fighting stance.

  “Calm down,” I said. “We have a plan. All you need to do is open a gate for us.”

  “And let them in? Are you working for him?” Emily glared. “If he’s holding your friend hostage, we can’t help you unless you tell us.”

  “You’d help us? Wait, no, that isn’t what’s going on. We’re going to jump over the wall and rescue her. But we need you to let us back in. Will you do that for me?”

  “Sounds like you’ll have a host of orcs after you.”

  “Better to defend one open gate than breaches wherever they take Heather. Are you with us?”

  She paused. “Where will they strike?”

  “Pradeep wants the Citadel. He’ll probably sail straight downriver, it’s fastest.”

  “Gareth, go inform Absame. Percy, gather the reserves.” When the mooks hesitated, she added, “Go! They aren’t going to hurt me.” They scuttled off.

  This had gone better than expected. That is, I hadn’t been shot. She hadn’t explicitly said she would open the gate, but she had a good head on her shoulders and a reserve of Lancers on their way. Besides, she still owed me and Farrukh for saving her life the first day in-game, though I think our credit on that account was wearing thin.

  We jogged along the wall toward the docks nearest the Citadel. I naturally lagged. With Ana and Farrukh ahead, Emily stopped and rounded on me. I was plenty happy to catch my breath.

  “I’m still not sure I can trust you.”

  “You don’t have to. You’ll have your reserves to kill Pradeep and his orcs. All you have to do is not kill Heather, or the rest of us, then let us back in.”

  “Yeah. But I have to ask, first.” She brushed a strand of sweaty hair from her eyes. “Is that Lance blood on your shirt?”

  I looked down. Guess I’d gotten bled on in the tussle on the Citadel wall.

  I should’ve lied. It looked no different from Enlightened blood. But I was so tired.

  “Yeah,” I said eventually. “Sorry.”

  It was Absame’s fault, for telling them to shoot on sight, or for killing my friends. It was the dead guy’s fault, for fighting instead of running, or for joining the Lance in the first place. Anyone’s fault but mine. Only, nothing I could say would’ve mattered.

  We resumed jogging. I hadn’t caught my breath.

  The docks and warehouses beyond the wall were silent. Farrukh kept watch while I fidgeted. Emily and Ana waited below.

  Time chafed. I’d assumed Pradeep would want to strike close to the Citadel, but maybe his plan was to attack the western wall, where there was no river. Or maybe he and his crew had carried a boat from the north river to the south, while we watched the north river like idiots. What if he was going to wait for cover of nightfall?

  What if he’d arrived last night, and was already inside the city?

  The sun hadn’t cleared the horizon when two twelve-orc canoes came paddling downriver. Their steel armor gleamed in the sunrise. At the prow of the lead canoe, Pradeep stood in his purple-riddled half-armor.

  My heart lurched. Heather was tied up behind him.

  They cut the water with no pretense of stealth, their might lending them arrogance. I’d make them regret that.

  We followed them along the inside of the wall, Farrukh bounding up occasionally to ensure they hadn’t docked. Eight Lancers had appeared, though they looked green under their azure tabards. They eyed us with hostility until Emily debriefed them.

  My guess had been accurate. Pradeep and his orcs came ashore in the shadow of the Citadel and tied their boats. We were less than a hundred yards from a cargo gate. The terrain between their dock and the wall was marshy.

  Heather was led along by a rope which bound her hands and ankles, making her gait a pained shuffle through the mud. All the ropes bore purple inlays. Her expression was forlorn, her eyes downcast.

  We hid behind a crenellation as the orcs approached, Lance archers behind adjacent ones. If any of the Enlightened patrolling the Citadel walls had been ambitious, they might’ve tried to shoot us, but none were so confident. They just watched, several gathering around the parapet.

  Emily hissed, “What are you three going to do?”

  I said, “The wall is thick enough that it’ll take Heather two casts. Once she starts, they’ll be distracted. We hit them hard and get out before they can hit back.” I rubbed my thumb along the red circuitry of the Javelin of Impaling. One good throw…

  “There are twenty of them!” Emily said.

  “Twenty-four. But don’t make me think about it,” I said. If I thought about it, self-doubt would root me to the spot. I didn’t ruminate on our slim odds, or how much a crossbow bolt would hurt, or the look Heather would have in her blue eyes when we said our goodbyes in Luxembourg.

  “Snap out of it, man,” Farrukh said. Then, to Emily, “Get ready to head for the gate.”

  Emily nodded, giving us one last look that I hoped wasn’t a goodbye, before sheltering next to her soldiers. I gritted my teeth.

  The clinking of metal warned of the orcs’ approach.

  “Transmute it,” Pradeep’s voice came.

  “You ready?” Farrukh asked.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Now,” he said, and when we hopped up, he was already drawing his bow. As I pl
anted my feet to jump, the realization that I was about to fail Heather one final time nearly entangled me. No time. I tore away.

  The first symbol pinged in my head.

  It was twenty feet to the base of the wall. The group of orcs huddled close, denying our archers vantage. Emanating from where Heather stood, a pool of water was sinking into the thirsty ground. Everyone looked up at me.

  The second ping sounded.

  I floated above them. The orcs raised their bows, too slowly. Farrukh’s bow twanged. Pradeep’s hand was twisting into the familiar symbols for lightning bolt. But Heather was casting something, too.

  The third ping.

  Pradeep flinched as the arrow rebounded from his helm, the purple circuitry blazing. His symbols faltered, but even so, he was raising his hand to blast me. The orcs had arrows trained on me as I fell. But Heather was faster than any of them.

  I nullified myself as a section of wall transmuted into a burst of lightning that flashed through the puddle. Pradeep, Heather, and most of the orcs seized up. The remaining orcs recoiled away from the pool. I hurled the Javelin of Impaling at Pradeep.

  It took him in the breastplate and was stopped dead by the Null enchantment. At least he’d been stunned by the lightning. I splashed down among the jittering bodies.

  Heather’s eyes were locked open. My visage shone in her irises. Panic lent me the strength to scoop her up over my shoulder.

  Before the unaffected orcs could turn their bows on me, they cowered away from a volley of Lancer bolts.

  Ana shouted, “Incoming!” I steadied Heather with my gauntlet and nullified Ana’s momentum. The Lightning Blade crashed down upon an orc’s helmet as she landed. The rest scrambled for swords and spears before she could fry them too.

  “Next one!” Farrukh said. I nullified him as well, my mana rising to 60/100. He landed with poleax ready. An orc in our escape path struck out, but Farrukh parried it with his ax haft, twisted, and stabbed his tail spike into the orc’s face.

  The other orcs hesitated. We followed in Farrukh’s wake, the orcs stumbling away from Ana’s Lightning Blade. We broke the crowd and made for the still-closed gate ahead.