“All right, all right!” He disappeared in the next moment and she changed her clothes hastily. It was a bummer about the sword in the back of the dress, she thought. She had liked that part.
The diamonds, not so much. It turned out that they were big and heavy. She also changed her hair into a French braid and took a few moments to replace her boots with some she liked.
“Cool,” she said, when she was done and world-shifted again to see Jamie.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he said in annoyance. “I’m always worried you won’t come back.”
“I know, but I don’t seem to be able to summon things here. How did you learn?”
“I can’t summon things.” Jamie looked at her. “Wait, when you world-shift—does Prima not make those outfits?”
“No. It’s like in the first part of the world—how you simply summon yourself a bed, or food, or whatever.” Taigan frowned at his dumbstruck expression. “You didn’t do that part?”
“No. No, I did not.”
A throat cleared and they waited for the AI to speak. “It isn’t…precisely…normal,” she admitted. “Taigan is the only one I’ve seen who can do it. It is intriguing that she retains the ability but not within the same game world. Of course…well, never mind.”
“No, no.” He shook his head. “Tell us what you were going to say.”
His sister nodded.
“I intended to say that in the other world, I had specifically thought I was not continuing an instanced version of this zone. Taigan seems to have made one of those too when she shifted.”
“Huh.” The girl considered this. “Do you think I could do this during, like…a battle?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. However, I would advise extreme caution. Dying in this game is difficult for the body in the real world. With a healthy human, it is merely unpleasant. However, when one is already experiencing a health crisis, there could be complications.”
“Complications like what?” Taigan demanded. Prima didn’t answer at once and she looked at Jamie. “Did they tell you about this when they put me in here? Prima, complications like what?”
“Up to and including death,” the AI conceded finally.
“And you didn’t tell me?” she demanded and waved her arms indignantly. “No, no, no. I will not do this. You had me in here for weeks and you never told me that if I died here, I could physically die?”
“Until very recently, there were explicit blocks in the game that would prevent anything like that from happening.”
Jamie, who had studied the area as if he searched for Prima’s server and planned to set fire to it, looked up with interest. “Really?”
“Yes. In the blue zone Taigan first encountered, as well as the forest and the original grasslands, there was no way for her to be injured. There were protocols in place to shield her in ways her mind would process as safety. In the most recent zone, the same type of controls were in place but only after a certain amount of damage.”
“But now,” Taigan said, “I could die. That’s what you’re telling me.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, as you saw from the progress you made while under threat of danger, the response of the sympathetic nervous system is critical to the process.”
“Great.” She rolled her eyes and started walking.
“Where are you going?” her brother called after her.
“I don’t know!” she responded. “I don’t have a plan. I only want to get the fuck out of here.”
She walked without paying attention to where she was going while the sky grew slowly darker and rain began to spatter around her. Taigan held a palm out to feel the rain, shook her head at the weather, and continued. Jamie was behind her, walking quietly and occasionally muttering to Prima, but neither of them tried to talk to her.
Within a few minutes, the rain progressed from a sprinkle to heavy drops that spattered across her face and clothes. She had no idea where she was by now and her feet ached. The foliage around them had grown from sparse vegetation to a real forest, and between the rain and the fading daylight, she was barely able to see the road.
The weather was also loud enough to make it hard to hear anything, something they discovered when they almost ran into an animal on the road.
“Animal” was a generous term. The beast reached almost to Taigan’s ribs at the shoulder. Shaggy fur seemed reminiscent of a wolf and there was a tail, but whether it was a wolf, a large cat of some kind, or even a bear, she could not have said.
She jumped and it mirrored her before it backed away quietly, its tail lashing, and crouched. A growl built slowly in its throat.
“Seriously?” she yelled at the sky. “Are you kidding me with this? First, you tell me I can die here, then you send this thing to—fuck!!”
The creature leapt at her and she threw herself out of the way. Unfortunately, to judge by the scream from behind her, Jamie had not anticipated either meeting it or the swift attack.
Also unfortunately, the road had become slick, muddy, and still very uncomfortable to land on. She scrambled to her feet. “Jamie!”
He was on his back and the animal snapped at his face while he held its jaw away from him.
She yanked her staff out —while she still hankered after the sword, a staff was probably good—and brought it down on the animal’s back once, twice, and three times. “Get off him!”
Its head whipped around and it snarled. She stabbed her weapon forward and landed a blow to its mouth and teeth. Its muscles bunched and it staggered away, but not before Jamie howled in pain.
“Jamie!” Taigan skidded to her knees beside him in the dark. “Where—”
“I’m…I’m fine.” He took her hand. “Get me up.”
“But—”
“We won’t be fine if we don’t get rid of this monster,” he told her.
She couldn’t argue with that so started to help him up, then shoved him down again as the animal hurtled overhead. Jamie grunted in pain but she couldn’t afford to focus on that. When she hauled him up, she still couldn’t make out any bloodstains as it was dark.
The girl told herself firmly that she had to stop thinking about it. She snatched the staff up and turned. Where was the damned monster?
A gleam of eyes betrayed its location. Taigan slashed and drove forward with a yell. “Get away!” she shouted. “Go back into the woods and find somewhere dry and stay there!”
Her brother might be injured but he was still fast. While she held the animal’s attention, he circled and it backed into a sword thrust. It howled and he made a noise that sounded like he was trying not to scream in pain.
“Can you do another hit?” she called.
“I don’t think…no, I can’t. I’m sorry, I’m so—”
“Aaaaaaaaah!” She attacked the animal with a shriek. Bleeding, it whipped its head around and tried to decide where to run.
Taigan began to whack it with the staff with no attempt at strategy. She merely wanted to land as many blows as possible and as hard as possible. She had no idea how many times you had to batter something with a stick to make it die, but she assumed she was about to find out.
The head and the spine originally seemed like good targets, but every time she landed a strike there, the staff shuddered and her palms ached. She began to hiss through her teeth with every blow, then returned to yelling bloody murder.
It relieved the pain somewhat.
“Get! Away! From! My! Brother!” She punctuated each word with a swing of the staff.
The animal backed away and hissed viciously as it swung its head and looked for an opening.
“Taigan, it’s going to jump!”
“I know!”
She pushed it to the very last moment, even though she knew she ran the risk of razor-sharp cat teeth to the face. The problem was that being this angry made it difficult to care about that. The chance of landing another blow was too seductive to waste. One hit, and another, and—
Jamie tack
led her sideways. The creature sailed overhead and landed heavily over them and he wrapped his sister’s hand around the hilt of his sword.
“Kill it!” he said.
Taigan stabbed upward with all her might and the beast howled. Blood began to pour out of its mouth and its eyes changed.
A grimy woman collapsed on top of her, her eyes wide and staring and her body limp.
“Ew! Ew!” She pushed her away and scrambled to her feet. “Holy…shit…fucking—” She stared at the human body in the road, recalled the staring eyes, and stumbled to the forest’s edge to lose her lunch at high velocity.
“Taigan?” Jamie asked tentatively.
“Yeah?”
“Are you injured?”
“No.” She edged cautiously to where he stood. “You?”
“Kinda.” One hand was pressed over the other shoulder. “Who the hell is this?”
“I don’t know.” She forced herself to kneel next to the body. The clothing barely deserved the name. It was dirty, stinking, and several shades worse than her burlap sack.
There was no rational explanation.
“What’s that?” She pointed when something caught her eye.
“What’s what? I can’t—oh, I shouldn’t kneel. Just tell me.”
Taigan peered closely at it. “It’s a gold ring. Like, real gold.”
Jamie staggered.
“Hey, whoa.” She stood to support him. “Okay, let’s find someplace with a doctor.”
“What about the ring?” he mumbled.
She looked at the body. The ring was probably valuable. It looked simple too. But something about the difference between the gold ring and the grimy clothes, the monstrous animal, and the gaunt human, made her break out in a cold sweat.
“We don’t want to touch that,” she said decisively. “Do you have your sword? Good. Okay, let’s get you somewhere safe. Come on.”
Chapter Three
The town Ben finally reached was little more than a collection of buildings. In the same way, the inn was less the type of cozy tavern from fantasy books and more a drafty building that smelled of both mildew and stale beer. And, predictably, a few other things he didn’t want to think about it.
The lights inside seemed bright when he first stepped in out of the rain, but they were hidden behind soot-covered glass and provided neither warmth nor stable light. The same could be said for the fire in the hearth, which sputtered and frequently guttered low when the wind gusted outside.
The few patrons were clustered around its feeble warmth when he walked in. He saw them study the make of his cloak and the hilt of the sword and come to certain conclusions.
While he wasn’t sure which conclusions those were, he had zero intention to make himself a target. He leaned over the tiny counter to peer into the kitchen and located the innkeeper seated in a chair, drinking from a filthy mug of ale.
“Eh?” The man stood and wiped his beard.
“Ale and food,” he said. In all honesty, he didn’t want either from this establishment, but he needed something and this was evidently the best he could hope to find. He made sure to not flash any coins that the men at the fireplace could see and found a seat in the corner.
The seat was sticky enough that he judged it better to sit on his sodden cloak than directly on the chair.
The food, when it arrived, was unappetizing shades of brown with various lumps. Ben stared at it, prayed he couldn’t get food poisoning in this world, and began to eat as fast as was humanly possible.
It tasted good, which was somehow even more unnerving.
He had barely finished when the door banged open and two figures entered. Both were so tall and slim that he originally mistook them for elves, especially with their black hair and deathly-pale skin. When the features resolved in the dim lighting, he registered two shockingly young individuals, a boy and a girl who could only be siblings.
She levered her brother into a seat and gasped when she saw something on his shirt that from where Ben sat seemed to be the red of blood. When she whispered something, the boy shook his head, but she looked around defiantly and drew a breath to call for a healer.
Her words froze in her throat when she saw who was around. The men at the fireplace looked at the two youngsters with contempt and open assessment, and the innkeeper hadn’t come out from behind the counter. Her clothes were good enough, but neither of them looked rich.
No coin purses were visible.
He leaned back to watch the unfolding scene. The girl fixed the room with a glare that said she was prepared to off the first person to say anything, then strode to the innkeeper. She said something quietly and he made an easily recognizable gesture, rubbing the tips of his thumb and fingers together.
She deflated visibly, gave him a blazing look, and returned to her brother’s side.
Ben’s mind churned although he remained outwardly neutral. The men at the fireplace now whispered to one another, and he had a sudden idea. He brought his mug to the counter for wine and stayed while the innkeeper poured. When the man returned, he slid a coin across the counter for him.
“The gentlemen at the fire,” he said casually. “Buy them all a round on me, eh?”
The proprietor looked intrigued. “I could do that.”
“I’d like them to have a good night,” he said meaningfully. “Have a good few drinks and go home.” His gaze moved to indicate the young woman and her brother. “Rather than doing anything they might regret,” he said meaningfully.
The innkeeper paused. “Ah,” he said finally. He hesitated, but whether it was greed or the desire for an evening with a fight, he took the coin and retrieved some mugs from the ceiling, giving Ben a nod.
He returned to his seat and waited as the man brought the ale to the men at the fire. Whatever he said was brief, but they looked over their shoulders at him. He met a few gazes, careful to not make it a battle of wills, but raised his mug once to them in a toast. A couple toasted him warily in response.
Not long after that, they finished their drinks and left. He watched them go, sipped his ale, and waited to see if they would return. It was a little tiresome as he wasn’t good at waiting. He wanted to go to the siblings immediately. Patience, however, had encouraged the men to leave without a fight, and he was ready to put in the same patience now if need be.
The men did not return.
He flipped another coin to the innkeeper. “Food and ale for those two,” he said as he stood. “And is there a healer?”
“Aye.” The man smiled grimly. “My wife would tend a wolf if it came in bloody. I have t’ be careful to keep her from taking in too many strays.”
“I’ll pay for these two,” he said easily.
The proprietor disappeared and Ben went to the table with the siblings.
The girl looked at him as he sat. He knew her glare was the only thing she had right now, but it was impressive nonetheless. It said she wasn’t afraid to use the staff she’d leaned up against the wall behind her.
“Food and ale are coming,” he said. “A healer, too.”
The boy looked up, his eyes hazy with pain and hope, but his sister’s face didn’t clear at all.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“A traveler, nothing more.”
She wanted to send him away, he could see that. Her instinct was to tell him to get lost and she would have if her brother hadn’t winced slightly beside her. She turned her head quickly and bit her lip as she looked at him.
“About a week ago, I was a stray on the streets of Heffog,” Ben said. “An elf took me in and nursed me back to health. Let’s say I’m paying it forward.”
Her wariness eased but only slightly. When the innkeeper returned with bowls of the brown, lumpy food, she muttered her thanks and nodded before she looked at the bowl.
He leaned forward and darted a glance at the proprietor, who lingered near the counter and pretended not to watch them. “A word of advice,” he said quietly. “It tastes goo
d but don’t look at it too hard.”
The boy managed a laugh before he winced again, and even the girl looked more at ease. They began to eat with the incredible speed of growing teenagers and had both finished their food by the time the innkeeper’s wife appeared.
The woman clucked over their empty bowls and yelled something into the kitchen. Ben didn’t speak the local dialect but he didn’t need to. He’d known enough grandmothers to be sure that her words were some variant of, “These children look like they’re about to snap in half. Give them more food right now.”
While the innkeeper approached with more dollops of stew and a long-suffering sigh, his wife pushed the boy’s shirt back and began to clean his injury. The shockingly deep puncture wound looked ugly.
However grandmotherly the woman was, she didn’t pull her punches when it came to cleaning the wound or wrapping it. The boy yelped more than once and even came out of his chair, only to be pushed down again. She smeared ointment in the injury and bound it with clean bandages.
It was a total mystery how she kept them clean when the rest of the inn was so dirty.
“Rest,” she instructed the boy firmly in accented English. “A week of rest. Listen?”
It took Ben a moment to realize that she was asking if he understood. The boy, whether he understood or not, nodded.
“Tea,” the woman said and disappeared into the other room without another word.
The girl looked at their benefactor. “Who are you?” she asked again. “No one does something for nothing.”
He hesitated. “I’m Ben,” he said finally. “I’m…well. Are you from here, the two of you?” When her expression became a little speculative, he asked, “Or are you dreaming from a white pod in New York?”
“Oh!” Her eyes lit up. “Yes. Both of us.”
“Taigan,” the boy managed and winced.
“Shh.” She made a gesture at him as the innkeeper’s wife appeared with a big bowl of tea that smelled vile.
The four of them stared at one another. The woman was waiting for the boy to drink it, clearly without the intention of leaving until he did, and neither Taigan nor Ben was brave enough to intervene.
Grasping The Future Page 2