The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  “I’m not going to be sad to leave here,” Mia said. She sounded like she meant it as well, grim determination in her voice. At least her mood had picked up since she’d gotten the call her dad had woken up in hospital. They’d been to see him earlier. “Really. It’s been nothing but bad luck for me.”

  Scott raised an eyebrow. “Nothing but?”

  With a roll of her eyes she leaned up and kissed him. “Present company excluded. I’ve nearly died three times here. And my dad got shot as well! Can you blame me?! Never coming back after this. I don’t believe in pushing fate further than I have to.”

  “Look at it this way,” Scott said with a smile. “You could have died three times and you didn’t. Does this make you officially a survivor?”

  “We all survived this thing,” she said. “You, me, Pete, Sam. When it all kicked off in that stadium… I was worried about you. You were right at ground zero. She could have killed you.”

  “She didn’t though,” Scott said. “Still here. Crazy bitch. Let’s get as far away from her as possible next.” He took in Mia’s quizzical expression. “You know, assuming you want to come with me. I mean…”

  “Love to,” she said. “But where?”

  “Well I’d love to show you my home city.”

  “Premesoir?”

  “Delhoig in Premesoir. The iron city. Or so they call it anyway. I’ve never seen much attraction in calling it that. There’s not much iron there anymore. Used to be a ton of steelworks there, now it all comes from Vazara, cheap.” He scuffed his boot against the railings in disgust. “I remember growing up. It stank. I mean it, could smell it no matter where you were in the city. You… You’ve never smelled anything like it, believe me.”

  She squeezed his hand playfully. “And this is where you want to take me?”

  “I’ve been away from home for too long,” Scott said, looking out across towards the sun. This was the best part of the island, a small peak beyond the resort although not far enough into the unchartered parts of the island. Someone had made it into an observatory, a few long-range telescopes placed around the perimeter. They were alone but for each other. That didn’t include Permear, the ghost hovering by one of the scopes, muttering angrily to himself. He’d not been the same since being knocked out in the fight. Scott assumed he’d get over it sooner or later.

  “It doesn’t have to be Delhoig,” Scott said. “I’d follow you to the ends of the five kingdoms if need be. From here to Canterage.” He winced, something coming back to him that felt so long ago. Like he’d been a different man back then. “Just… Not Burykia, okay? I did it recently. Wouldn’t feel right going back there right now.” Not with a different girlfriend. Two months didn’t sound like it should have been a long time. Having lived through it, he realised it felt like an eternity.

  “Serran?” she said. “There’s some places I go there this time of the year. And it’s beautiful. You ever been before?” Scott nodded his head.

  “Not recently,” he said. “Not for a long time. Think we lived there briefly when I was a kid before going to Premesoir.” It wasn’t as uncommon as it sounded. Plenty of people spent their lives never having set foot in all five of the kingdoms. He’d never been to Vazara before all this. “It would be nice to see it again. Home first though.”

  “Or we could go Serran first, since it’s on the way. Travel across, head to Premesoir when we hit the other side.”

  She wasn’t making it easy, he had to admit. Still he didn’t care. Either way worked. Delhoig would still be there when he did get back. And he wasn’t in a hurry. It wouldn’t change drastically. “Sure, whatever works,” he grinned. “You’re the boss.”

  Her grin matched his at that comment. “That works for me,” she said. “I like that, flyboy. Mia ‘The Boss’ Arnholt. Better than my middle name.”

  That piqued his interest. “What is your middle name?”

  “Caroline. It was my mother’s name.”

  “Oh. Nothing wrong with that.” He didn’t have much else to say. Couldn’t think of anything, no benefit to further comment. And Mia Caroline Arnholt was a cute name, he thought.

  “Not as good as ‘The Boss’ though, is it? Might adopt that for the dance stage. Try it out in Serran, I think. Maybe it’ll take off.”

  “You could have your own merchandise,” Scott laughed. “Your own brand. Isn’t that like the dream for you people?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You people?! What a tactlessly insensitive way to make your point.” At least she gave him a grin while saying it. “But yeah, you’re not wrong. There’s some strange people in this game.”

  “Yours and mine,” Scott said thoughtfully. “Hey, Mia.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I seriously want to know. What really happened? Why does Harvey Rocastle hate you so much anyway?”

  Mia let out a nervous laugh. “What, hatred to the point that he’s tried to kidnap me twice and threatened me with death more than I can count? You’ll laugh at this. Really you will.”

  “I’m pretty sure I won’t. How come you never did anything about it before?”

  “Well it was all just threats, he’s always been petty and spiteful. And… And well, he thinks I stole some of his tricks on the stage.”

  “What?!” He genuinely couldn’t help laughing, just as she’d said. “You’re kidding!”

  “Nope.”

  “But… That’s…” Amusement turned to disbelief, it all sounded like some big joke now he heard her say the words. “Seriously?!”

  “Yep.”

  “How petty can you get? Seriously?!”

  “Apparently murderously so,” Mia said wearily. “Shame really. Used to be friends. He’d had a hard life, there was always something cold in him. Never thought it’d end like this though.”

  “Where were you?”

  Anne smiled weakly, it felt a strange emotion, alien to her lips right now. Every twitch of the muscles in her mouth felt like an eternity of discomfort. Maybe that was the way it should be. Her body ached, she was tired, and she just wanted to go to bed. Even above Ruud Baxter’s offer, she didn’t want to think about the future. Being around so much sorrow today, it had just been draining, even worse in a way than the horrors of the battle. She still bore the mental scars of that, she could hear the screams and smell the fire when she closed her eyes. She still bore Baxter’s weapon on her belt. More than once in her room, she’d taken it out in front of the mirror and activated it, just to study the hissing blade, just to see how it looked in her hands. “Funeral,” she said. “Friends died, you know.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The strange thing was, he meant it as well. He’d always thought genuine apology was something beyond him. For that matter, he’d never been convinced he could do a convincing fake one. Apology wasn’t something that ever really entered his psyche until recently.

  “Yes well,” she said. “Life goes on. Can’t complain about stuff unfortunately. Being mad at life’s like being mad at the Divines. It’s not going to get you anywhere.”

  “Steady, I thought I was supposed to be the cynical one.”

  She managed a weak smile. “There’s a margin of difference between cynicism and realism. Not a gulf but a glimpse.”

  “So, what will you do now then?” Theo asked. “Go back home, or…?” He let it hang, a curious brow raised.

  “Can’t say,” she said. “I’ve been given a new… Yeah, I don’t know.”

  “You’re with Unisco, aren’t you?” he said slowly. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to lie about it and then decided not to, nodding her head once gently.

  “For a while,” she said. “What gave it away?”

  “The running around shooting people,” Theo replied. “Was a pretty cool sight. You looked like a complete badass.”

  She shuddered. “Not a good thing to say, Theo. People died there. It was a bad day.”

  “The sentiment’s true, even if the words are wrong,” Theo grunted, his
cheeks flushing at the reprimand. “I could have put it better. What I was trying to say is, you’re amazing. A hero.”

  “I don’t feel like a hero,” she said, looking down at her feet. “You know what my new assignment is going to be? They’re supposedly setting up a new department in the next few months, they want me to be a part of it. Don’t know where I’ll be based or how long it’ll be for.” She sighed sadly. “Shame because it does seem like a fantastic opportunity.”

  He swallowed deeply. “You should do it.”

  “Not like I have a choice,” she said. “But I’m glad I have your approval,” That last part came out a little sarcastically, he felt his cheeks flush again.

  “Not what I meant,” he said. “Anne, these days I’ve spent with you, they’ve been… Believe me, I’ve never used this word often before, they were fun. I learned a load from you. I wouldn’t have gotten where I did without you.” He reached out, took her hand. His stomach was leaping, he tried to ignore it. Wouldn’t do to get the jitters. “I owe you so much. I’m not ever sure I can entirely repay you.”

  She smiled, stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him, her lips brushing against his, her arms around him. As best he could, he returned the gesture clumsily. He felt awkward but strangely, he wasn’t worried about that too much. An unusual feeling for him.

  “It’s not about repayment,” she said. “Consider it an investment in the future. You’ve been blessed with talent, tenacity, ferocity but no small measure of skill. Do you really want to be just a spirit caller for the rest of your days? Or do you want to actually do something to make a difference?” He didn’t know what to say about that. “Think about it. There’s always a need for talented spirit callers like you. It’s just a case of where and when.”

  Harvey was waking, she could sense him coming around from the drugs they’d fed him, the stretch of his fogged mind grabbing for any sort of conscious thought. Touching the surface of his mind was like plunging face first into filthy water. She wondered if he could feel her touch, feel her fury. He needed to. To describe herself as furious with him was too gentle a term.

  More than once she’d held back smothering him while he slumbered, it’d be far too quick and easy for him. What she had in mind was so much more useful. And painful for him, couldn’t forget that. He’d screwed up badly, she’d given him orders and he hadn’t carried through on them. More than that, he’d deviated from them. By any logic, it should have earned him a death sentence. She couldn’t carry any sort of useless weakness.

  But no. She’d chosen mercy after a fashion. If he continued to be of use, he’d live a little longer. If he didn’t… She wouldn’t lose any sleep over him leaving her new world. Not that she had slept recently. Fatigue had been something that escaped her. Strange. A moan escaped him as he tried to sit up, couldn’t. He tugged at the restraints, she put a finger to his lips and shushed him gently.

  “Quiet!” she said. “You’ve suffered traumas.” It was true. He’d broken many bones through his fight with Roper, his left leg and kneecap shattered, several broken ribs and smashed teeth, his shoulder dislocated and wrist re-broken. His nose had almost been flattened by an elbow, Doctor Hota had commented on how he was lucky to be alive. The leg had had to come off, she’d made that decision and it had been carried out. If she said it had been totally benevolent for his health, it would have been a lie. It felt like a just punishment to make a point. The look of numb shock and terror on his face as he clutched at the stump was just delicious, she found herself drinking it in. For several long moments, he wailed and cried and begged, she thought he would stamp his foot if it wasn’t beyond him now.

  There was only so much of it she could take, she cleared her throat and glared at him, a silencing stare that shut him straight up. “Right,” she said. “Consider this. We’re already fitting you up for a prosthetic so quit your whining. You won’t even notice. You’ve already got cybernetic fingers, what’s a little more?”

  “Because…” he started to whine before thinking better of it. Her eyes narrowed, she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “You’ve screwed up a number of times,” she said. “But you’ve had some successes in there as well so I’m willing to forgive you. Your obsession with that girl has proved to be your undoing once again.”

  “Not my fault she’s surrounded by people tougher than me,” Rocastle moaned. She grimaced. He couldn’t really have just given that excuse to her, could he? It sounded pathetic, she fought the urge to strike him. Must have been the painkillers. “What can I do?”

  She smiled coldly at him. “Get better. I have a few ideas. We’re working on some stuff. And when we’re looking for volunteers, I expect you to be the first in the queue. After all, it doesn’t do for me to have doubts about where your loyalties lay.” She grazed her fingers across his cheek, drawing lines of blood with her nails. “Sleep well Harvey, for the days will be long and hard ahead. But in this new world, a lord you shall be.” If he had anything else to say, she didn’t care, just turned to leave. Outside, Domis bowed to her. He didn’t seem to be diminished by his recent traumas, like a mountain, he was just as she always remembered him. Giant. Terrible. Imposing. He’d shown up earlier in the day, none the worse for the wear without anything as much as a complaint. She could do with more like him.

  “Goddess,” he whispered. Even more than the term Mistress, that pleased her so much. “What can I do to enhance your cause?”

  “It’s starting,” she said softly. “Soon the kingdoms will change forever, and I will have won. But for now, we all have work to do. The time of Coppinger is coming and the kingdoms are never going to be the same again. You and I, my son, we are going to bring it all down and then raise it anew from the ashes.”

  Ever since she’d started, since she’d taken to the skies in her fortress, or gone through the gateway, she felt at peace with herself. She was doing something, ensuring the visions she’d seen in her dreams wouldn’t come to pass. No apocalypse of green, no end of the world, just a vision of her future. She’d been sleeping soundly since the war had begun, getting handfuls of hours wherever she could, peaceful if not lengthy. The dreams of death and destruction had faded, not completely but they troubled her less.

  That alone told her she was on the right path. She’d set her first foot on it now and she wouldn’t stop until she reached the end. Things were going to change in the kingdoms. She’d made a vow and she was going to stick to it.

  The storm came out of nowhere, nobody saw it coming, not even the people at the Khazri Kel’an Institute of Weather, Vazara. What they did know was it appeared above the deepest, driest part of desert, covering almost the length of it, drenching it in an absolute downpour for six straight hours, no longer, no shorter. By the time they got people out to investigate, it had ceased. Although interviewed nomads had later told them there had been something quite not right about it, in their own superstitious way. They’d called it, in their own tongue, divine rain. A gift from the gods. The elder of the tribe had reached down, scooped up a hand of sodden sand and let it trickle through his fingers, along with the word ‘alive’ accompanying it.

  The team had taken samples back to send off for study, curious as to what he’d meant. Less than a day later, the first shoots of greenery broke through the sands. At the same time, the deep gouges left in the desert by the Reims scar-mining technique saw water seeping through the base, more and more of it coming from somewhere unseen. Soon there were rivers all over the plains, the vegetation sprouting up first alongside them before the green spread out across the desert…

  Never the End.

  The story continues in Innocence Lost.

  Coming very soon…

  A Note from the Author.

  Thank you for the time spent reading this book, taking the time to spend your days in this world I created. I hope that you enjoyed reading it just as much as I did when I wrote it. Just a quick note, if you did, please, please, please leave a review on Amazon f
or me. Even if it’s just two words, it can make a lot of difference for an independent author like me.

  Eternal thanks in advance. If you enjoyed this one, why not check out other books I’ve written available at Amazon.

  If you wish to be notified about upcoming works, and even get a free short story from the Spirit Callers Saga starring Wade and Ruud some twenty-five years ago, sign up to my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/dDQEDn

  Thanks again. Without readers, writers are nothing. You guys are incredible.

  OJ.

  Also, by the Author.

  The Spirit Callers Saga.

  Wild Card. – Out Now

  Outlaw Complex. – Coming Soon

  Revolution’s Fire. – Coming Soon

  Innocence Lost. – Coming Soon

  Divine Born. – Coming Soon

  Tales of the Spirit Callers Saga.

  Appropriate Force.

  Kjarn Plague. – Coming 2018

  The Novisarium.

  God of Lions – Coming 2018

  Blessed Bullets – Coming soon

  About the Author.

  Born in 1990 in Wakefield, OJ Lowe always knew that one day he’d want to become a writer. He tried lots of other things, including being a student, being unemployed, being a salesman and working in the fashion industry. None of them really replaced that urge in his heart, so a writer he became and after several false starts, The Great Game was published although it has recently been re-released as three smaller books, Wild Card, Outlaw Complex and Revolution’s Fire, now officially the first three books in the Spirit Callers Saga, a planned epic of some sixteen books. He remains to be found typing away at a laptop in Yorkshire, moving closer every day to making childhood dreams a reality.