“I can help you with that,” Rebecca said.
“Are mine near a large body of water?” Lotan asked hopefully.
“Yes.”
“Oh, good…”
“How long do we have?” Vlisil asked.
“We meet up again at dawn in three days. North of Blackstone by the river, on the road we took to the mines.”
Vlisil cocked an eyebrow. “Are we going to be able to ride that far and get back in time?”
“I can help with transportation,” Rebecca said.
“Griffins?” Lotan asked hopefully.
“We’ll see.”
“Can you get me something else?” Vlisil asked as he warily eyed the birds.
Rebecca seethed a little. “We’ll SEE.”
“So – you guys up for taking another shot at Eric?” Daniel asked.
“Yes,” Vlisil agreed.
“…okay,” Lotan said timidly.
“Yah!” Drogar boomed. “SCREW that guy. Vhat an ahss-hole.”
69
It was going to take Dr. Wolff some time to scrounge up some transportation – “I can’t just summon things out of thin air,” she complained – so Drogar, Vlisil, and Lotan shared some of their left-over supplies with Mira and Daniel. They all had a short meal of jerky, hard bread, and apples, and then said their goodbyes.
Vlisil, Drogar, and Lotan left the clearing to attend to their horses.
Mira and Daniel were the last two left as they prepared to climb on the griffins.
They exchanged another hug, then looked at each other in the moonlight.
“It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him.
“I know, I’m just… worried.”
“We’ll get the armies together. We’ll take him down.”
“I’m not worried about that, I’m… I’m worried about you.”
She gave him a raised eyebrow. “I’m not a helpless little girl, Daniel. I did just fine on my own before I ran into you that day in Blackstone.”
“I know, I know… I just… I can worry, can’t I?”
The arched eyebrow gradually melted into a smile. “We’ll see each other soon.”
“I know.”
They continued to stare at each other – and then she leaned forward and quickly kissed him on the cheek.
“For luck,” she whispered, then blushed an even darker shade of indigo in the moonlight.
She climbed up onto her griffin, quickly buckled into the saddle, and spurred the beast to take off in a fury of flapping wings.
Daniel stood there touching his cheek, stunned, as he watched the silhouette of her griffin fly past the full moon and disappear into the night sky.
Suddenly noises emanated from the darkness outside the forest clearing.
“Woooo-ooooo!” Lotan teased.
“Hubba hubba!” Vlisil snorted.
“Mack dahddy!” Drogar whooped.
“Shut up, guys,” Daniel said in embarrassment, though he couldn’t contain his smile as he climbed on his griffin and latched himself in.
“See you in three days,” Vlisil called out.
“Player player!” Drogar added.
“See you in three days,” Daniel grinned, and launched his griffin into the sky.
70
Daniel had barely cleared the treetops before Rebecca started in on him.
“If you’re finished with your little romantic escapade, we should talk.”
“About what?” Daniel said, annoyed and embarrassed to realize she’d probably seen the whole thing.
“The whole point of you going into the game wasn’t to build an army for some NPC prince,” she chided him. “It’s to stop Eric.”
“We’re GOING to stop him,” he insisted. “By building an army.”
“No, you’re going to fritter away time while he does who knows what for the AI.”
He looked over at Blackstone, at its gigantic walls soaring into the air and the tiny dots of torchlight within.
His eyes lingered especially on the glowing windows of the palace, where his best friend now sat on the throne.
“What do you want me to do, Dr. Wolff? You want me to fly over there, land on the roof, and go in and talk to him?”
He looked at the castle. Actually, there was one long walkway supported by arches that jutted out from the main body of the palace. It made a perfect lookout point over the entire land…
…and would make an even better landing strip.
He was supposed to go enlist the dwarves, but who knew what might happen on his journey, or if he would even make it back in time? This might be his last chance to try and talk some sense into Eric.
“I just think that you should approach him at some point and – ”
“Actually, I think I will,” Daniel said as his griffin wheeled around through the air.
“…will what?” Rebecca asked, confused.
“I think I’ll land over there and go in and talk to him.”
“…what?!”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes – and I still do – but I’m concerned this is a little rash.”
“They have ointments for that.”
“What?”
“It was a joke… a little rash?… never mind…”
“Just a few seconds ago you were arguing against this!”
“I know,” he said, his heart beating faster as the griffin circled in towards the lookout platform. “I changed my mind.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
Daniel shrugged. “Like you said, I need to talk to him… and what’s the worst he can do? Kill me?”
“He could possibly torture you for hours. Especially if the AI removes certain limitations from the game.”
Huh.
He hadn’t thought of that.
“…he won’t do that,” Daniel decided.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s still my best friend.”
The griffin skidded to a halt on the stone walkway.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you in there,” Rebecca cautioned.
Daniel unbuckled his saddle. Already, a dozen flame-skulled guards were rushing out of the palace towards him.
“You didn’t help much on the battlefield today, and that turned out okay,” Daniel said as he jumped down to the ground.
“This is different. There you had a fighting chance.”
The guards formed a barrier in front of him, their spears held out in a wall of razor-tipped death.
“Yeah,” Daniel murmured as he looked at the spears. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“If it gets really bad in there…”
“Yes?”
“Unplug me,” Daniel said as he raised his hands in surrender.
71
Eric
Eric slouched in his chair at the head of the palace banquet hall. Despite all the fun earlier, now he felt dissatisfied and irritated.
Cythera sat to his left in a jealous snit. She’d found out about the two concubines in the bathtub and was icing him out, refusing to even look at him. When she did speak, she packed as much venom as she could into each word.
Screw her. She might be beautiful now, yes, but all Eric could think of when he looked at her was what she’d looked like when they’d met – scars over half her body.
Merridack sat to Eric’s right and was being his regular boorish self. He kicked up his boots on the table and ate with his fingers, boasting all the while how he’d known Eric since his first day in Blackstone and that he’d “never have amounted to squat without my tutelage.”
Korvos sat on the other side of Cythera, ramrod straight and not eating. Apparently Korvos didn’t eat regular food; he subsisted on souls. He had declined to dine in front of the others, claiming it might be… disturbing.
In fact, before dinner, thousands of his men had been out in the courtyard cracking open the ribs and skulls of NPCs they had abducted from the homes of Blackston
e. Eric had watched as the Hell soldiers pulled thin wisps of gossamer light from the bodies and devoured it with snaps of their fleshless jaws, all to the accompaniment of ragged screams of agony.
He’d had them stop so that he could at least eat his dinner in peace… though the screams still haunted him.
It’s just a game… those people weren’t people… they were just computer programs…
And, of course, the Unnamed One floated at Eric’s right side, never sitting, never speaking.
When his English class read Macbeth, the teacher had talked about the scene where the murdered king’s ghost appeared at the banquet but could only be seen by Macbeth. She’d said there was even a British expression for it: ‘a specter at the feast.’ Something that marred your enjoyment in what should have been your greatest moment of glory.
Eric had his own personal specter at the feast. And the rest of them made him feel like he was having Thanksgiving with an especially unpleasant group of relatives.
Servants set down giant platters of food, then hurried off, pale-faced and eyes downcast.
The Dark One wasn’t talking… Korvos wasn’t eating… Cythera barely picked at her food… and Merridack was basically shoving everything down his gullet and talking while he chewed.
It was the most boredom and misery a new king could have wished for.
A text box suddenly appeared in his field of view:
Note: you have spent four and a half hours of Real World Time in the Shattered Lands. This is your thirty-minute warning. You must log out soon for at least 30 minutes of Real World Time. Failure to log out will result in a mandatory lock-out of three hours of Real World Time.
He was so bored that he was actually considering logging off just for something to do.
Eric didn’t notice because of the text message, but at one point the Dark Figure stared out into the distance, as though he were tracking something.
Moments later there was a noise at the doorway. One of Korvos’ lieutenants came rushing in and whispered in the general’s ear – or at least in the direction of his horned helmet. Eric couldn’t tell what he was saying, since he spoke in the harsh guttural tongue that the soldiers of Hell used when talking to one another.
Korvos looked up in surprise at the soldier, then turned to Eric. “Sire… your ‘friend’… the male warrior on the griffin…”
Eric perked up. For the first time since he’d gotten out of the bathtub, he was interested in something again. “What about him?”
“He has landed on the northern outlook. He says he wishes to speak to you.”
Eric sat up in surprise. “What?!”
Merridack laughed in delight. “What ho, Danny boy’s come home!”
The Dark One spoke for the first time in nearly half an hour.
“KILL HIM,” he instructed the guard.
The skull-faced lieutenant nodded and turned to go –
“NO!” Eric shouted as he sprang to his feet. He glared at the Dark Figure briefly before turning back to the lieutenant. “I want to see him.”
The lieutenant looked to Korvos, as though for confirmation –
Eric SLAMMED his hand down on the table, rattling the plates and silverware.
“I said I want to SEE him,” Eric raged.
Korvos nodded almost imperceptibly. The lieutenant bowed to Eric, then turned and hurried out of the room.
“Tell your men, General, that when the KING tells them to do something, they DO it,” Eric seethed.
Korvos bowed his neck at the neck. “Of course, sire.”
“Oh-ho-ho,” Merridack chuckled in glee, “tonight’s going to be a fun one. Think of all the ways we can torture him to death…”
Eric shot him a look. “You’re not doing anything to him.”
Merridack looked up in angry surprise. “What?!”
“You’re not laying a finger on him.”
“That little asshole betrayed me – ”
“He left. I’m the one that killed you, you idiot,” Eric sneered.
Merridack didn’t like that – but rather than a direct attack, he sneered, “He shat all over your big victory today, him and his giant pigeons – and now you’re going to sit down for tea and braid each other’s hair?”
“No… but Cythera can braid yours.”
Cythera looked up at him in shock and disgust. “I will not.”
“Screw you, your Highness,” Merridack sneered mockingly.
Eric turned to Korvos. “If she doesn’t braid his hair by the time I return, General, I want you to kill them both.”
The horned helmet bowed slightly. “Yes, my lord.”
Cythera went pale.
Merridack stood up. “You little shit – ”
Korvos’ chair flew backwards as he stood and drew his broadsword.
Merridack looked queasily at the black flames dancing along the blade.
Eric smiled at his former mentor. “I can have him kill you now, if you prefer.”
Merridack grumbled and sat down, defeated.
“Cythera – give him French braids and pigtails,” Eric called over his shoulder.
72
As Eric strode across the banquet hall with his walking staff in hand, the Dark Figure glided along beside him.
“THIS IS A BAD IDEA.”
“And why is that?”
“THE CREATOR IS USING HIM AGAINST YOU. SHE WISHES TO MANIPULATE YOU… TO TURN YOU AGAINST ME.”
“Well, I’d say our partnership is working out just fine, so I doubt there’s anything he can say that would change my mind.”
“I DO NOT WISH YOU TO SPEAK TO HIM.”
Eric stopped at the doorway to the balcony and stared angrily at the shadowy face. “Well, you don’t have a choice. Go away,” he said, flapping one hand dismissively.
But the specter followed him outside into the moonlight. “WHAT IF HE KILLS YOU?”
“He won’t.”
“WHAT MAKES YOU SO CERTAIN?”
“Because I know him. Besides, after the changes you made this afternoon, he can’t kill me anymore. By the way, I got a log-out warning about the five-hour limit. Can you change that so I can stay in the game indefinitely?”
“YES. HOWEVER, DO YOU NOT NEED TO ATTEND TO BODILY FUNCTIONS?”
“I’ll worry about that – you just take care of the log-out.”
“IT IS DONE.”
Up ahead, twenty skull-faced soldiers marched with Daniel between them. His gauntlets were bound at the wrist with some sort of black, glistening bands, and one of the soldiers carried Daniel’s jeweled scabbard and silver helmet.
The formation of guards stopped in unison.
Eric gestured towards the guard carrying Daniel’s belongings. Give ‘em here.
The guard walked over and handed the helmet and scabbard to Eric, who smiled at his former best friend. “You like to make an entrance, don’t you?”
“I try,” Daniel said as he warily watched the floating apparition beside Eric.
Eric glanced over to see what he was looking at. “Oh, don’t mind him, he was just leaving. Weren’t you.”
The black, featureless face stared at him. “I DO NOT TRUST HIM.”
“Jesus,” Eric muttered, then turned back to Daniel. “Do you promise not to kill me while you’re here?”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “If you promise not to kill me.”
Eric raised one hand. “I swear on the Bible to do no killing, the whole no killing, and nothing but no killing, so help me God.”
Daniel gave a lopsided smile. “Do they really swear on the Bible here?”
“I have no idea. Probably on something a lot scarier. Well? What about you?”
“I swear, too.”
“Good. Let him go.”
The skull-faced soldiers looked at each other –
“I SAID, let him GO,” Eric roared.
The nearest soldier touched the black bands on Daniel’s wrists. The bindings relaxed into an obscene-looking, squid-like
creature that the soldier attached to his belt.
Eric watched in surprise. “I thought I was the only one with toys like that.”
“Apparently not,” Daniel said in distaste as he wiped trails of slime off his armor.
“You can go,” Eric said, and the twenty soldiers marched past him into the castle. He turned and stared at the Dark Figure. “You too.”
Before it left, the Dark Figure turned to Daniel. “YOU CANNOT SPEAK TO YOUR CONTACT HERE. AND SHE CANNOT EAVESDROP.”
“…what?” Daniel asked, surprised.
“I HAVE CREATED A FIELD OF INTERFERENCE AROUND THIS CASTLE. NO ONE CAN HELP YOU NOW,” the ghostly figure rumbled, then turned and floated away.
73
“You know, you might have sworn,” Daniel said to Eric, “but that thing didn’t.”
“Eh, don’t mind him, he’s just being melodramatic. But is what he said true? Are you a narc?” Eric asked humorously.
“…sort of,” Daniel said as he watched the Dark Figure disappear into the shadows. “I wanted backup in case you decided to torture me to death or something.”
“I wouldn’t do that!” Eric protested.
Daniel raised on eyebrow. “Even for being a narc?”
“Well, you can’t really be a narc if you’re admitting it right off the bat. Was your ‘contact’ going to listen in on the whole thing?”
“…yeah.”
“You dick,” Eric laughed. “Try it. See if my guy’s right.”
Daniel called out, “Dr. Wolff?”
There was no answer.
“Dr. Wolff?” Daniel repeated.
“The boy who cried Wolff,” Eric grinned. “Guess my friend was telling the truth.”
“That’s your friend?” Daniel said sarcastically.
“I’d sure hate to have him as an enemy.”
“How’d he do it?”
“Who knows,” Eric said. He looked at the jeweled scabbard as a way of changing the subject. “I remember this.”
“I tried to give it back today.”
“Really? Why?” Eric pulled the sword out and swung it through the air. “It’s a great weapon.”
Shattered Lands 2 The Fall Of Blackstone: A LitRPG Series Page 16