by A. L. Davroe
“I do know, actually,” he whispers. “I’ve got one like that at home.” He laughs into my hair, a rough chuckle, releases his hold on me, then takes a step backward and looks into my eyes. “It’s amazing how we’ve managed to blur the lines between man and machine. I mean, just look at us.” He holds out his hand, indicating the room.
I glance around with him. “Speaking of, where is everyone?”
“Opus is in town. Nadine and Morden went up to the fort to talk with King Lau.”
“King Lau?”
“He’s the ruling body of this playing field. Hence the name, Fief of Lau. Nadine thinks he’ll be able to give us a pin on Glockmock the Terrible.” He reaches down and picks up his tankard. I watch him take a swig and place it back down. “I’m glad you came back. I was…” He pauses, looking for the right word. “Worried.” His face reveals just how worried.
I reach out and ease the frown line out of his cheek. “I wouldn’t just leave you, Gus.”
He stares at the floor. “I know. It’s just…sometimes I realize how fragile this reality is. The idea of never seeing you again…” He touches his stomach and I understand what he means. I feel that nausea, too.
Eager to change the subject, I cant my head to one side, taking in all of him. He’s wearing tight brown breeches that emphasize the musculature in his legs. I’m anxious to see what he looks like from behind. “I like that outfit.”
He glances down at himself and smirks absently. Then something dawns on him. “Oh, I got something for you.”
I lift my brows, curious.
He shrugs. “Well, I needed something to do while I waited for you to come back into the game.” He turns away, showing just how good his butt looks in his tight new pants, and begins digging in his sack. He draws out a big package wrapped in brown paper and gut string and hands it to me.
It rumples in my hand. Whatever is inside is soft and formless. “What is it?”
“Open it,” he urges.
I untie the string, letting it fall to the wooden floorboards, and unwrap the paper. As I pull away the sheets of paper, Gus takes them from me and places them on the table beside his cider. As he takes the last piece from my fingers, billowing green fabric tumbles to the floor, revealing a beautiful crushed-satin gown with gold trim.
“Oh,” I breathe, unable to say anything else.
“Do you like it?” He sounds anxious.
“I love it.” I lift big eyes to him, trying to focus through the tears. “It’s for me?”
He scoffs. “Of course it’s for you.”
“But we have no money. How did you afford it?”
He shrugs. “I did some manual labor for the guy at the general store. Too bad the man at the magic shop wasn’t as keen on the offer, otherwise I’d have gotten a jump stone, too. Will you put it on?”
Eager to try on the beautiful outfit, I nod, my curls bouncing around my face.
He steps forward and takes my face in his hands, kissing me once more. I melt into his lips, savoring the taste and feel of him. It seems like a thousand years have passed since I’ve seen him and even longer since we’ve had a few precious moments to ourselves. He pulls me away, gently. “Good,” he says with a nod. He turns me by my shoulders and gives me a playful shove toward the stairwell at the back of the common room. “Go put it on.”
Washed and dressed in a gown that proves Gus has every curve of my body memorized, I go back downstairs. The rest of the crew is there, sitting at the table with Gus, talking in hushed voices though the only other person in the room is the serving girl sitting on a stool in the corner. As much as I’m happy to see everyone, my heart sinks at not being able to have more time alone with Gus.
I tiptoe toward the table and stand near a broad wooden column supporting the upstairs dining area. The fire in the squat hearth is warm on my back, making me linger in the shadows, though Gus notices my approach immediately. It’s like he has radar. He lifts his eyes and stares at me, his expression moving to one of pleasure at the sight of me.
I bite my lip to keep from grinning as I reach down and hold my skirt out in a silent gesture of questioning. I turn, letting him see the way the dress laces up the back and hugs my hips and backside, then I toss my hair to one side, letting him see how the portrait neckline displays my throat and shoulders.
When I turn back to see what he thinks, he’s smirking at me, flirtatious promise in his eyes.
Noticing that he’s no longer paying attention to the conversation, heads slowly raise and turn in the direction of his very obvious gaze. I feel myself blush, knowing that the others are privy to this silent conversation between us.
Nadine stands abruptly, upsetting her chair, and rockets toward me. “Ella,” she screeches, and throws her arms around me. “You’re okay. We thought you died or something.”
I pat her back. “Okay, Nadine, you’re choking me,” I wheeze.
Releasing me, she steps back and gives me a light cuff on the arm. “Don’t do that again. You scared the nanos out of me.”
I give her a reassuring smile, and we head back toward the table. Opus moves over, making room for me on the bench so that I can sit between him and Guster. Nadine goes back to her place beside Morden who says, “We were just talking about what King Lau said.”
Nadine sits forward, her chest heaving against a baby blue dress that is similar but not as fine as mine. “He says Glockmock the Terrible lives up on the mountain, but he’s likely to come down soon because he hasn’t eaten in quite some time.”
“Eaten?” I ask.
Opus scoffs. “Glockmock is a dragon, Ella. Do you know what a dragon is?”
I purse my lips. “It sounds familiar,” I muse. “But, no. I don’t think so.”
“Ha,” he barks, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “The Spider Child doesn’t even know what she’s fighting.”
Morden rolls his green eyes. “Leave it alone, old man, none of us do.”
“I looked it up,” Nadine says quietly. We all turn to her. “When I went home last time, I looked it up. It’s a mythical fire-breathing lizard.”
“Say that again?” Gus chokes out.
“A lizard.”
“No, that bit about breathing fire?”
Nadine nods, her ruddy braids brushing her freckled forehead. “In the myths, dragons were massive lizards. The size of houses. They can fly and they have teeth and nails the size of droid-blades. And they breathe fire. They used to kidnap fair maidens, and princes used to have to fight them on quests.” She looks up and grins, her blue eyes bright, and lets out a breathy little giggle. “You know, like the one we’re on.”
“What’s his weakness?” Opus demands.
Nadine knits her brows. “Nothing really. It’s supposed to be covered in an impenetrable armor of scales.”
Morden plants his elbows on the table and puts his face in his hands. “Circuits,” he mumbles, running his hands through his hair. “How are we gonna fight something like that?”
I glance at Gus who looks at me in the same instant. I can feel the eyes of everyone else on me, expectant. “I-I don’t know if the threads will work on something like that.” As much as I feel their eyes, I feel their disappointment. “But it has to have some weakness,” I say, trying to sound hopeful. “Maybe a weakness under the joints?”
Gus nods, though he looks a little distracted.
“Well,” Nadine adds, “I read something about this one dragon, Smaug. This Tolkien guy wrote that this dragon had one weak spot in its scales. He claims that this one man, Bard, shot a black arrow into it after a thrush told him about it. But, none of us know how to use a black arrow, do we? And I don’t even know what a thrush is.”
The others continue talking, theorizing on how best to defeat the dragon when it finally does appear over the small town. I try my best to add to the conversation, b
ut Gus’s silence weighs on me. I need to get him alone so that I can talk to him and see what’s bothering him.
When the conversation eventually devolves into Morden teasing Nadine and Opus reverting back to his grumbly old man self, Gus puts his hand on mine underneath the table. “Can you guys excuse us for a little while?”
Nadine and Morden exchange a meaningful glance, and Opus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, go on,” he growls. “We’ll save the world without you.”
Gus doesn’t humor him with a response. Instead, he grabs my hand and practically drags me down a side hall. He gets to the end of the hall, glances around, and then hustles me through a door. Inside, it’s dim, the only light coming from a dirty window on the far side of the room.
“A supply closet?” I say, incredulous. Gus grabs me by the hips and presses me against the back of the door, kissing me once more.
I attempt to kiss him back, but I can’t keep from giggling so he takes to trailing kisses down my jaw and neck instead. I squirm under the onslaught. “Oh, honestly, Gus. Did you miss me that bad?”
He looks up then, his face serious. “Yes,” he growls. “I did miss you.” He has his hands planted to either side of my head, the muscles of his body coiled under the rough gray fabric of his shirt. All at once, I’m struck all over again by how utterly powerful and beautiful Gus is, both mind and body. I have revelations like this on a daily basis, and they still amaze me.
I reach out and touch his jaw. “You’re so serious today. What’s wrong?”
He shifts his weight to one arm and takes the other away from the door, running his knuckles along my temple. “It felt like eternity waiting and not knowing if you were ever coming back.”
I lean in to his hand, nuzzling and kissing his palm. “Why would you suddenly think I’d leave you?”
He lets out a long sigh. “It’s not that I think you’d leave me, Elle. It’s just that…” He searches for the right words. “I’m afraid you’ll be taken away from me.” He shifts his feet so that he can free up both hands and cups my face in his gentle grasp, drinking in my eyes. “We take this for granted.”
I smile at him. “I don’t. This place is a gift. So are you. I know that.”
His brow dips low, framing his eyes. “And what happens when the gift goes away? What happens if one of us is killed here and never able to get back to the other? What if something happens with the game?”
I shake my head. “Nothing’s going to happen with the game.”
“How do you know? And beyond the game? What happens if something happens to one of us in Real World?”
I reach out both hands and cup his face. “Stop this,” I say, pulling him close. I can’t bear to even think about what he’s suggesting. I don’t want this to end. I can’t even entertain the thought. Katrina’s threats clatter around in my mind, making me close my eyes in shame. If I had pushed any harder yesterday, if things had gone any differently… As a hacker, as a threat to societal order, I might have been killed. Gus would have never known. I need to be more careful. I lace my fingers through his hair, tug at him.
Understanding the cue, he steps in to me, a pleasant crowding of body and breath, and takes my lips once more. Gus kisses me with the desperation of a man who can’t seem to suck enough air into his lungs, his body hot and demanding in a way that my body can’t refuse. He reaches down and pulls me against him, his hands sliding down my back so he can grip my bottom and lift me up into his arms. I cling to him, letting him guide me to the preparation counter and lower me there so I can sit with him comfortably pressed between my legs.
His lips wander across my jaw, down my neck, over my shoulders, his fingers clutching against the neckline of my dress, trying to free up more flesh for his exploration. He growls into my neck. “Why did I buy this damn thing for you?”
I smile at the ceiling. “’Cause you wanted to see me in it?”
His fingers slide down my back, finding the lacings for my bodice. “Well, I’ve seen you in it.” He breathes into my neck. “Now, I want to see you out of it.”
I groan to myself and reach back, staying his fingers. “You know, Gus, it has never been a goal of mine to make love shoved against a shelf in a food storage closet.”
He smiles against my bare shoulder, his teeth white on my tawny skin, and his eyes dart up to meet mine. “There’s a first time for everything.”
I stare down at him. “You planned this, didn’t you?” I accuse.
His fingers slip from beneath mine, coming to rest on my thighs, and he straightens, meeting my gaze. “To have some time alone with you? Yes. We haven’t had a chance to be alone with each other in days and longer since we’ve made love. Is it a crime to make love to the woman I love?”
I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of his hands on me, of this moment with him, and that one magical word, “love.”
“Though,” he says, kissing me on the cheek, “I did bring you in here to talk, not to do this.” One hand releases my thigh, and he uses it to smooth the fabric down my stomach. “You look so lovely in this dress. I knew you would.”
I grasp his hand and pull it against my heart. “Thank you,” I say, meaning it. Gus couldn’t know that I’ve just given up all my lovely Real World dresses, doesn’t know how much this means to me. “You’re too good to me.”
He smiles. “Anything for you.” He kisses me again, reminding me that we have more pressing business.
A few moments later, there’s a sudden pounding at the door. “Oy, love birds.” It’s Opus.
Gus growls into my mouth. He pulls his lips away from mine and glances at the door, but he doesn’t release me. “What?” He doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance.
“Dragon’s been spotted circling the peak. Innkeeper’s saying that means a hunt’s in store. You want to go for a hunt, or are you gonna bow out for another week in favor of different sport?”
Gus lets out a long frustrated sigh and drops his head against my clavicle. “Well, when you put it that way, how could anyone refuse?” he mutters.
“You coming then?”
Gus lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “Not in the way I’d like, but yeah, I’m coming,” he grumbles so low, Opus couldn’t possibly hear, but then, it’s not meant for his ears, anyway.
I giggle, enjoying the joke. He smirks at me, gives me one last kiss, and pulls away. I slide off the table, straighten my dress, and follow him out of the storage room.
Nadine and Morden are standing in the doorway, their eyes focused on the distant peaks that border the Fief to the east. I can see the dragon, even from this distance, an oblong dot blazing a black line across the sky.
“Is that its tail?” Morden asks.
Nadine steps back and squints. “I think it’s smoke.”
We all glance back at the dragon in an attempt to discern the deep black trail it leaves from the thicker body it heaves over the jagged icy peaks.
Something occurs to me. “Doesn’t that image look kind of familiar?”
It takes a minute for someone else to see it. “Yeah, it does,” Gus says.
“What?” Morden asks. “I don’t get it.”
“That figure eight pattern over the mountains.” Gus gestures toward the dragon. “That’s on the last square.” A crazy grin breaks across his face. “One more jump and we’re there.”
Shocked silence overtakes us until, with a great belch of flame, the dragon bugles a thunderous call that sounds like the very last gasp of a dying animal. A shiver runs down my spine.
“Well,” Gus says, his voice steely and determined. I glance back in time to see him hit the defensive mode button on his wrist. A split second later, he’s covered head to toe in armor. His visor lifts with a small pneumatic hiss, and he grins at me. “Trickster versus lizard, round one. The hunt is on.”
“Great.” Opus throws his hands up in the air
. “The whelp’s off to kill himself. Boy, let me tell you, if I was a betting man, I’d wager all my worth on your inevitable loss.”
Gus grins again, broader and more mischievous than ever. “Excellent. I’ll hold you to it, old man.” He stabs a finger into Opus’s chest, his voice dropping. “That jump stone you’ve been hiding from us. That’s mine the moment that terrible dragon heaves its last breath. That’s our ticket out of here.”
For an instant, Opus just seems to sputter, his deep, aged eyes disbelieving. “What?” he finally manages. “How’d you know about that?” he demands.
Gus just steps back, wiggles his eyebrows, and motions to his eyes. “X-ray vision.” He turns on the ball of his foot and disappears through the open door.
Questioning eyes turn to me. I smile and try to shrug it off in a “yeah well” kind of way as I engage my own defenses. Morden and Nadine follow, as if programmed to react to my lead.
Morden turns to Nadine and says, “I always did like barbecue.”
Nadine gives him a frown. “It always kind of gave me indigestion.”
We wait for Opus who, after muttering to himself about being too old for this sort of thing, armors up as well.
I watch Gus, Opus, Nadine, and Morden walk single file across the stable yard. The fox. The raven. The rabbit. The coyote.
“Along came a spider,” I whisper.
Smiling, I step out the door and join them.
Part Five:
Ella Dances the Tarantella
Chapter Thirty-five
Post-American Date: 6/22/232
Longitudinal Timestamp: 3:55 p.m.
Location: Free Zone, Fief of Lau; Nexis
The closer we get to Glockmock, the more pronounced his stench becomes. It’s not just his smell—a briny putrid stink—but also the choking scent of things burning. Wood, hay, and flesh. A horse rushes by the vivacycle, screaming. I glance back at it as it charges past Nadine. There’s a vicious gash in its flank, blood streaming across its rump and tail.