At Large

by Andrew Seiple

  “No. But there could be.” Tollen considered her. “One bite and some time is all it takes. Not even a full night.”

  “Did Mercutio tell you to offer me this?” Chase said. “Because I don’t want it. I have trouble keeping well-fed anyway, I don’t want to have to go running all over the woods on top of that.”

  “No. But I know how he thinks. We ain’t letting you go. You know too much. You’re with the pack now.” Tollen stepped closer. “I’ll have to smell you every day. Every night. And Berrymore? You smell delicious.”

  “Thanks,” she said, taking another step. Her foot splashed in the water, and she was thankful for her shoes for once.

  Then... then she had an idea. Not a great one, but it was worth a shot. She squirmed her foot, tore it loose from her shoe, and stepped deeper into the creek. Mud and rock under her foot, and she felt around with her toes as Tollen advanced on her.

  “Two ways this ends,” he said, his voice dipping lower, heading toward the beast but not quite there. “I’ll kill you. Or... you join us.”

  “Mercutio said he’d let me go,” she protested.

  “Mercutio might. We won’t. Your scent is on my mind. In my head. And the others, the others you beat up... it’s there, too. We all want you, Berrymore. We all want to feed.” That last word rattled into a growl.

  “And what would Gammer Wheadle say about this?” Chase asked. Nothing... nothing... there! She stopped moving, her foot on a rock that was just the right size.

  “Gammer Wheadle ain’t here!” Tollen said, stepping all the way into the moonlight. The leer on his face was horrific to see.

  “Oh. Well, in that case...” Chase bent into the stream, swept up the rock, and yelled, “Rapid Fire!”

  Tollen barely had time to blink before three rocks slammed into his face, with audible crunches. He fell backward, crying out, and Chase backed up further into the stream, squirming out of her last shoe as she shouted over and over again, “Bad Fortune! Bad Fortune! Bad Fortune!”

  You have inflicted 47 points of fortune damage on Tollen Wheadle.

  Your Bad Fortune skill is now level 7!

  Tollen Wheadle resists your Bad Fortune curse!

  You have inflicted 48 points of fortune damage on Tollen Wheadle.

  Your Bad Fortune skill is now level 8!

  By the time Tollen was on his feet again, Chase was across the stream and down about a hundred points of her own fortune, from casting the spell as quickly as she could. But it paid off, in the end.

  Your Bad Fortune is ineffective: Target has no fortune.

  “Berrymore!” Tollen shouted and grew, grew a full foot and a half as he expanded and his skin swapped out for fur. “You’re MINE.”

  “That’s no way to talk to a lady!” a cheerful voice called from above. “I cast fist from Off the Top Rope!”

  And Chase laughed, laughed in hysterical relief, laughed as a massive form plunged from the trees, elbow first. Laughed as Tollen Wheedle disappeared under the mountain of flesh that was the Muscle Wizaard. She laughed until she cried, then sat on the ground and shook while Renny and Cagna rushed over and folded her into their embrace. She even ignored the words that rolled by.

  You are now a level 7 Medium!

  CHA+5

  LUCK+5

  All told it only took about a minute and a half to get over it. Her cool was far too high to let it get to her for too long, and she had stuff to do. Finally she patted the dog-woman’s arm and stood.

  “Ahem,” another familiar voice cleared its throat, and Chase looked up into the moonlight.

  “Thomasi,” she said. “I was wondering what was keeping you.”

  “I had to make sure his attention was properly directed elsewhere.”

  “I helped! I masked Bastien’s scent!” Renny piped up.

  “And Cagna’s the reason we were able to pick up your trail in the first place,” Thomasi continued. “So it was a team effort. Sorry for the delay though, we had to stop by our old campsite up the ridge a ways. I had to retrieve the skin.”

  “We have a lot to talk about,” Chase said, not taking her eyes off the man. “But there’s no time. Tabita’s in the cave. Now is our chance to take down Mercutio and the rest of the werewolves. All we have to do is hold them until the Doge and the Camerlengo arrive, then get away in the chaos.”

  “No good, I’m afraid.” Thomasi shook his head. “We passed by above and upwind of them while we were looking for you and caught some of the conversation. Mercutio’s gone into the dungeon to warn Tabita.”

  “What? No, he can’t... he can.” Chase realized. Like a fool, she’d told them that any dungeon would work for their purposes. They could escape and try the ritual in a month, at a new dungeon.

  “Yes. It’s over. I’m going to leave them the skin as a peace offering and a note asking them to leave the country,” Thomasi said. “It’s probably the best outcome that we can get out of this.”

  Chase turned around and thought. And after a moment, the answer rose up... along with anger. “No. Not good enough.”

  “Don’t fight me on this. If she has a chance to get home— ”

  “Not good enough!” Chase shouted, and stomped up to him, glaring up at his wide, wide eyes. “We’re not dreams! This isn’t a game! You don’t get to murder us or turn packs of us into monsters and get away unscathed!” Still keeping her eyes on him, she knelt and started picking up stones from the creek, finding the ones just the right shape and size for throwing. “This ends here and now, and they go down. And I’ll do it with or without you, do you understand me, you... you... player?”

  “Oh cheese us,” he muttered. “She told you.” He seemed to shrink... then rallied. “Look. It’s a moot point. They’ll withdraw into the dungeon and wait us out. Wait the army out, for that matter. It’s full of goblins to eat, probably has water to drink as well, and they’re off in their own private instances. There’s no way to get them out.”

  “Actually, there is.” Renny spoke up. “Do you remember what I said about sealing dungeons?”

  CHAPTER 24: CONFESSIONS OF A RINGMASTER

  The rock whistled through the air, forming a perfect arc just above Renny’s head, and smacked into the stomach of the twisted little black-and-green man who was charging him. The breath left the goblin with a whoosh of air, and he crumpled to the ground, sliding across the floor. Renny stepped to the side and let him go by.

  The fourth goblin screeched and threw his spear at Chase...

  “Whip It!” Thomasi said, and with a snap of his Ringmaster’s whip the spear went clattering off a wall and into the gorge below, vanishing into darkness.

  Then the Muscle Wizaard was on the fourth goblin, and that was pretty much that. Chase turned away as the little creature squeaked and stared at the bodies on the floor.

  “You do this sort of thing for fun?” Chase muttered, sparing Thomasi a glare.

  He had the good grace to look abashed. “Some do. I never got the taste. It’s mostly those for who are obsessed with getting powerful magic items and fighting challenging monsters.”

  Chase just looked at the bodies and the black blood spreading beneath them. One of the goblins had a little bracelet. Just some little thing with charms on it.

  “They eat babies,” Cagna said. “Don’t mourn them.”

  “So does Tabita, I’m pretty sure. Or she’s done things about as bad.” Chase turned her back on Thomasi and pointed at the low entrance to the next cave. “But here we are, on our way to help her.”

  The Ringmaster sighed. “She gets to leave. You get her out of your world. It’s a win-win situation.”

  “And if it doesn’t work, what then?” Chase scowled, falling into line behind Cagna. “Will you help us fight her? Will you help us capture her?”

  Silence, just for a heartbeat. Two heartbeats. “Yes,” Tom said.

  He sounded sincere.

  It meant nothing.

  “I wish I could believe you,” she whispered.

/>   “If it comes down to it, you’ll see the proof. Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to it. You don’t know what I’ve given up for you.”

  “What?” Chase looked back for the first time...

  ...just as Bastien yelled a warning. “Six of them! Archers too! Let’s get ready to rummmmbllllle!”

  “Down!” Cagna barked. Then her pistol fired, a bark completely unlike her own. “Renny, take the left!”

  “I’m on it!”

  This was the fifth room in the goblins’ dungeon that they’d come to, and by now they had things down to a rhythm. Bastien went in first, took any hits that were necessary and drew attention to himself, while moving up to administer beatdowns. Cagna focused on taking out any magical attackers or ranged shooters, then charged in to guard the Wizaards’s flanks with her shortsword. Renny had Manipulate Air going and an elemental he directed to scatter any organized resistance, and keep lone goblins busy until Bastien or Cagna could get to them. Thomasi used a bullwhip with consummate grace, guarding their flanks and watching for ambushes. Chase healed, and threw rocks.

  Cagna had set up this order, and it was working well.

  To be honest, Chase had expected... something more, really. The goblins weren’t a match for them. If she’d been alone she would have been in danger, but if she’d been alone she wouldn’t be here in the first place. With everybody in the party combined, the little twisted creatures really hadn’t had a chance.

  It wasn’t adventure. It was pretty much slow slaughter, with the occasional attempt to murder them right back.

  Chase sighed, and then followed Cagna into the room. She and Renny didn’t have to duck to clear the low doorway, at least.

  The upside was that it was over quickly.

  The downside was that it wasn’t very challenging, so they must have been getting fairly low experience. Chase hadn’t leveled once, and her throwing skill had only gone up once, for all her rock hurling ways.

  The fight was over quickly, the barricade the goblins had set up kicked apart by Bastien’s big boots, and Cagna did a quick search of the area. She came up with a small wooden box.

  “Yay, more treasure!” Renny clapped his paws together.

  “Great,” Chase said. “Maybe it’s another couple of copper pieces and a half-chewed bone. Totally worth it.”

  “Oh for the love of the Nurph,” Cagna growled. “Can you not?”

  “What?” Chase blinked. “Can I not what?”

  The dog-woman stared at her. “We’re in a dungeon. We’re in a dangerous spot, and if you don’t get your head in the game, you’re going to get someone killed! I know you. You’re better than... this. What the hell is your problem?”

  A meaty hand patted her shoulder. “I’ve got this. Give us a few minutes,” Bastien said.

  “What are you talking about?” Chase glared. “This isn’t my doing, I’m trying to... hey!” She protested as Bastien walked past her, swept her up with one arm, and carried her over to the corner of the low cave.

  “So,” he said, sitting between her and the rest of the group. “Let’s talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Chase said. “We need to get there fast, seal the dungeon, and get out before the werewolves realize what’s happening.”

  “And give Tabita the skin before we seal it,” Bastien said, adjusting his spectacles.

  Chase felt her lips twist. “Yes, that too.”

  Thomasi had insisted on that part.

  The Muscle Wizaard’s eyes were magnified. The glass made them seem bigger, and the kindness in them made her look away.

  “It’s easy to forget that you’re still so young,” he said, barely a murmur. Behind him, she could hear the clink of coins as they sorted through the treasure, and Renny and Thomasi tried to figure out what this or that item might be.

  “Well... yes. Not too young. I’ll be sixteen next October.” Chase frowned. “So what?”

  “You’ve gained so many levels for one so young. So much experience! And it was in a really short time. And I’m betting most of those jobs boosted your charisma, am I right?”

  “Oh yeah....” she said, trying to mimic his voice.

  He laughed. “See! From anyone else I might think they were mocking me. From you, it’s cute. Look... have you ever really thought about what high charisma means?”

  “Aside from making me better at talking with people? Not really. It only helps me when talking matters. It doesn’t help me with... this. Whatever this is.” Chase waved a hand at the slaughter dungeon.

  Bastien nodded. “High charisma means that people pay more attention to you. Even when you’re not trying to get them to. And they feel more empathy towards you. Which means that when you’re in a bad mood...” he let his words trail off.

  Chase was bright enough to see where it was going. “Everyone else feels bad.”

  “Yeah. And we can’t ignore it, because gosh darn it, we like you! You’re the heart of this group! You pulled it together; you’ve healed our wounds; you help keep us alive... you’re the reason we’re here, Chase.” Bastien removed his spectacles and rubbed them on a handkerchief. His eyes were a little misty. “My life was going nowhere. Now I have friends again, one old and three new. I can maybe even be a proper wizard someday!”

  “You already are.” she put her hands on his shoulders. “And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! Muscle magic beats book magic any day!”

  He laughed. “Hey, I’m giving the pep talk here!” But he was beaming now, the shadow of sadness gone from his eyes. “So... tell me what’s eating you, and maybe you’ll feel better. And then we can get back to it, get our heads in the game. Dungeons eat people who don’t get their heads screwed on properly.”

  Chase shook her head. “You really think this place is dangerous? It’s more pathetic, really.”

  “See, you haven’t been listening to Renny. This one’s easy so far because we’re higher level than it. But they get deadlier the further you go. Cagna knows it. I know it. Thomasi sure as heck knows it. Nothing is safe; nothing is certain.”

  She closed her eyes. “That’s how they thought in Bothernot. That’s what my mother would say. I couldn’t stand that place...”

  Just for a second, a wave of homesickness washed over her. Nostalgia and a longing for a place where the biggest decision of the day was whether or not to skip second breakfast for more reading time.

  Chase shoved it down. She’d wanted this, wanted adventure and risk and excitement, and here it was...

  ...and she found her eyes wandering to Thomasi. He was standing alone now, watching down one of the corridors. His face was half in shadow, but the part she could see looked saddened.

  As well he should be, Chase felt a worm of anger gnawing in her breast, and realization came to her. “I trusted him. And he’s... he doesn’t think I’m real. He doesn’t think any of us matter. We’re not real to him,” Chase whispered.

  “What?” Bastien turned. “Thomasi? Man, he was happy to see me when he came to us at the Masquerade! He was so sorry he’d been taken away from us. He asked me about the others, but...” Bastien’s brow furrowed. “It’s funny, I can’t remember them so well. We all went our separate ways. For some reason... ah, it doesn’t matter. Look, Thomasi’s good. He cares.”

  “How can he?” Chase burst out, a little louder than she intended. “It’s a game! It’s all a game to him. Not even a real dream.”

  Cagna shot her a glare. But Thomasi flinched and turned away. She felt an odd sense of triumph at that, mixed with shame. This was the sort of thing her mother would do, that she’d seen other Bothernot matrons do. Get ahold of something and never let it go, inflame guilt to get the others to fall into line. They didn’t see a thing wrong with it. After all, their own relatives had done the same to them, over and over...

  “It’s not just him you’re mad at, is it?” Bastien’s hands enveloped her shoulders, then pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in his beard and tried no
t to cry.

  “No,” she whispered. “I’m mad at me for acting this way but I can’t STOP.” Her voice twisted as she spoke, pain and sorrow blending together. “I can’t stop and I don’t want to be this way.”

  “There was a time I didn’t want to be the way I was either,” Bastien said, hugging her more tightly. “So I decided to be a wizard. And I never looked back. I’m not there yet, but I’m the best one I can be, and I’m better for it. Because the more I was a Wizard, the less I was the old me. And eventually I could look back and take the best parts of old me without bringing the bad stuff along. And that’s magic, kind of. I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, it’s okay,” Chase said, letting him go. “I’m an Oracle. I’m a Medium. I’m a Grifter and an Archer, and I’m not done yet. I can’t forget where I came from, but I don’t have to let it rule me. And that’s what it was doing. Old me was sitting in the back of my head, trying to scramble for control.” She spoke the words, feeling the truth of them as she went. Some part of her had been trying to hold herself back, through all of this... but there was no going back. From the second she’d met her god in that rustic tavern, it had all been downhill from...

  No.

  No, it wasn’t downhill. Her life had gotten better. She was alive because of it. Everything from there had been rising up, facing insane odds and beating them. Rising above them.

  For a second she remembered Enrico Rossi, that tired, beaten man who had gone down fighting in a blaze of glory because he couldn’t do anything else, knew the odds were against him and played the game anyway. Her hand felt for his cards... then she remembered that the Alpha had taken them.

  I’ll have to even that score. For Enrico, she thought.

  Her eyes found Thomasi again. He had helped her, in his own way. He was about as reliable as a barn made of paper... but he cared. He did, even if he was really, really bad about keeping secrets when he shouldn’t.

  Maybe... maybe she could kill two birds with one stone here?

  Halven mental fortitude did its job then, and she gave Bastien a final squeeze and pulled free of him.