Forever Fantasy Online

by Rachel Aaron

  That last part was going too far, but Tina couldn’t help it. She was madder than she could ever remember being. Mad at herself for not being smarter, mad about what had almost happened to SB, and especially mad at Kuro for not understanding how hard she’d worked to get them this far. It was all so unfair she wanted to punch something, preferably the Assassin. She was fighting to keep her fists at her side when the bright gleam in KuroKawaii’s perfect elven eyes turned into full-blown wetness as the Assassin burst into tears in front of her.

  “You’re sick. You know that?” Kuro shouted. “You don’t care about David or any of us! You just want us to fall in line and fight on command like this is still a game. Well, screw you! I’m not doing this anymore! I quit!”

  Tina froze, uncomprehending. “What do you mean you ‘quit’?”

  “I’m leaving the raid,” Kuro said, wiping her eyes. “I don’t want to be your stupid little soldier anymore.”

  “You can’t—” Tina cut herself off before she shoved her boot any farther into her mouth. “I can’t make you stay,” she said more calmly now. “But seriously, where are you going to go? The Deadlands are a valley. It’s not like there’s more than one way out.”

  “I don’t know,” Kuro said. “But I’m not sticking around so you can get me killed, too.”

  Tina closed her eyes with a silent curse. She needed to say something, something nice, but she had no idea how to convince this idiot not to go off and die.

  Instead, she pointed to the east. “Grel’s army is that way.” Then Tina pointed west. “The Order fortress and the portal to Bastion are that way. Every other direction is impassible mountains, which means this road might as well be a railroad track. We all have to travel in the same direction, so if you want to leave, all I ask is that you don’t go so far away that we can’t help you if there’s trouble. Because no matter what you think, I do want to get everyone out of here safely. You can be pissed at me all you want, but don’t make everyone else here worry about you on top of everything else.”

  “Like you really care,” KuroKawaii said, turning away.

  “I do,” Tina replied. “Which is why I’m going to tell you one more thing. Something that you in particular, as an Assassin, need to know.”

  “What?” Kuro said, not looking back.

  “Don’t go too fast,” Tina said, struggling not to look at SB behind her. “Everyone with Agility gear needs to listen up. You’re now capable of amazing speed, but you gotta keep the brakes on.”

  “Why?” yelled a Ranger from the crowd.

  “Because your bodies can’t handle it,” Tina said. “If you go too fast for too long, it’ll kill you. That’s how SB died.” She turned back to KuroKawaii. “You’re a pretty geared Assassin, so watch your speed. We won’t be close by to heal or rez you if you don’t.”

  “Like I’d trust you save me,” Kuro snapped, then she vanished into the shadows.

  Tina gripped her shield so tight, the metal groaned. She should have handled that better. It didn’t matter how angry she got or how unfair Kuro was being. They needed to stick together. This whole raid was already an out-of-control train. If they started losing pieces, the whole thing could easily fly apart. Especially right now, with emotions running so high. A player leaving was already the worst thing Tina could imagine, but it turned out she was wrong. Things could go even farther downhill, because after Kuro vanished, ZeroDarkness stepped out of the crowd as well.

  “I’m leaving, too,” the jubatus Assassin said, turning away from Tina to nod at the rest of the raid. “Good luck.”

  Then he vanished as well, leaving Tina cursing the empty air.

  The moment the Assassins were gone, the entire raid began to buzz. Tina held her breath, listening to the nervous whispers. It seemed she was wrong again. This was the worst outcome. Was the raid going to split on her? And if it did, would any of them stand a chance? The Deadlands weren’t just a max-level zone. This was a place designed to challenge max-geared players who’d run out of content. The fights out here were harder than anywhere else in the game, and there was no more dying and starting over if things went wrong. Every mistake they made was now permanent, which meant they needed to stick together more than ever.

  She knew she needed to say something to reassure them, to keep the raid together, but Tina had no idea what. She’d kept everyone in line up to now with force and the bleak reality of their situation. That was clearly no longer enough, but she didn’t know what else would work. How did you convince people to save their own lives? Should she shame them? Threaten? Beg? She was still trying to decide when Killbox stepped out of the crowd.

  Tina’s stone body went cold. This was it, she realized. The Berserker had been pretty even-keeled since their duel, but she’d humiliated him twice now, and he and David had been friends. Thinking back, Tina dimly remembered David asking during invites if he could bring his PVP buddy to the raid. If she was right, and that was Killbox, then the Berserker owed far more to David than he did to her. When he opened his mouth, she braced for the worst.

  “I’m staying with Roxxy,” Killbox said, glaring at the raid. “So she hasn’t been perfect. So what? Shit happens. But you people need to get your feels out of the way of the reals if you want to survive. Roxxy’s the one who understands that, so I’m staying with her.”

  He gave her a quick salute as he finished, but Tina could only stare at him in shock. Then Frank, having finally finished getting back into his armor, stepped forward as well. “I’m staying, too,” he drawled. “Seems to me that when there’s an army on your tail, staying together is the thing to do.”

  “I’m staying as well,” chimed in SilentBlayde from his rock.

  “Me too,” said Zen, raising her hand.

  The show of support was almost enough to make Tina cry, but then an awkward silence settled in as no one else stepped forward. For a horrible moment, that seemed like it, then Anders shuffled to the front.

  The ichthyian Cleric raised his staff above his head, making it flash with golden light. When he had everyone’s attention, he announced, “I’m staying.”

  This was met with gasps of surprise, but the healer shook his head. “I know a lot of you think Roxxy shouldn’t have treated me so rough back at the Dead Mountain, but that situation was entirely my fault. Even if it hadn’t been, though, you’re all forgetting that we would be dead right now if not for her. Worse than dead, because we’re up against the armies of the Once King. Now that things are real, I’m betting ghostfire isn’t just a status effect we can cleanse anymore. An eternity of slavery to undeath might very well await us if we don’t keep our shit together, stick together, and stay alive.”

  Everyone, including Tina, gasped as Anders finished. She hadn’t thought about it before, but his words made sense. All the zombies in the undead army chasing them had come from the Once King’s defeated enemies. Now that they were no longer infinitely respawning immortals, that might be their fate as well. The possibility was enough to chill even Tina’s stone skin, and she wasn’t alone. Anders’s threat had clearly hit a lot of people hard, because once he finished, more players started to step forward. They came in ones and twos, shuffling up the road until, to Tina’s amazement, they were all standing together, looking at her.

  Watching it happen brought an unfamiliar thickness to Tina’s throat. Up till now, she’d told herself that it didn’t matter what they thought of her so long as she kept everyone alive. She’d thought she was fine with everyone hating her, fine with being the villain, but she hadn’t realized how much she’d hated her role until everything had started to fall apart. Now, though, the raid was united. They might not approve of everything she did, but for the moment, at least, they were trusting her to save them, and Tina was determined to make that trust count.

  “Thanks, guys,” she said when her voice worked again. “I think we’ve all had enough shocks for now.” She pointed west down the road. “Y’all know the drill. Grel’s getting closer, so let�
��s get farther.” She paused there, holding her breath. When no one objected, she gave the order. “Roll out!”

  With only a slightly put-out sigh, the raid obeyed, resuming their march through the ashy wasteland.

  ****

  For the next hour, Tina carried SilentBlayde on her back. He tried to protest, but he wasn’t up for moving on his own yet, and she didn’t trust anyone else to carry him. Practicality aside, though, Tina was doing this as much for herself as his safety. After nearly losing him and the narrowly avoided mutiny, she wanted her dearest friend and best ally as close to her as possible.

  “Wow, it’s quiet back here,” NekoBaby said, falling back to walk beside them. “What gives? SB normally talks up all the oxygen.”

  “Raise Ally only gives back twenty percent health,” Tina said sharply, turning to put her body between the jubatus and SB. “If we were back home, he’d be in a hospital right now. Don’t bother him.”

  “Okay, okay. Cool your tits,” the cat-girl said. “I’m just super curious. I mean, we rezzed someone! You know, cheated death! Brought him back from the Great Beyond!” She darted around Tina to peer into SB’s face. “What was it like?”

  “Neko,” Tina growled. “You know that saying about curiosity and cats? You’re testing it.”

  “It’s okay,” SB said, lifting his head from her shoulder. “It’s an important question.”

  “See?” Neko said smugly. “SB’s cool. Don’t be such a grouch.”

  Tina sighed. “Fine. One question, but then he has to rest.”

  She didn’t want Neko bothering SilentBlayde while he was still so pale, but Tina would be lying if she’d said she wasn’t curious, too. So much of this didn’t make sense. Why had the Raise Ally spell worked when shrines and graveyards didn’t? How had he come back, and what was it like?

  “So what happened?” Neko said, wiggling her clawed finger through a gap in the Assassin’s red-and-black leather armor to poke him in the side. “Did you see a light at the end of the tunnel? Life flash before your eyes?”

  “Nothing so nice,” SB replied, ignoring her poking. “It’s more like…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. “I’ve never really been worried about death,” he said at last. “I’ve gotten close to it several times in my life, but it never got to me before. Here, though? In this place?” He shuddered. “Let’s just say I’m afraid to die now.”

  The haunted way he said that sent shivers up Tina’s spine. “So what happened? Did you go to hell or something?”

  His mask brushed the back of her neck as he shook his head. “I’m not sure. All I know is that there’s something desperate at the core of this world. It was frantic to drag me down. Zen was the only reason I didn’t fall. Her efforts let me cling to the edge, but I was about to slip anyway when the Raise Ally spell grabbed me. It pulled even harder than the thing below. I felt like I was being ripped in half. It was even more terrifying than wherever I was being dragged down to.”

  “Damn, dude,” Neko said, ears flat. “That’s heavy.”

  “It’s important,” SB said sternly. “Death isn’t cheap anymore. I got out whole this time, but if I have to go through that again, all you might get back is a torn-up soul.”

  “Then make sure you don’t die,” Tina snapped. It came out sharper than she wanted, but the idea of SB dying for real did something awful to her insides.

  Neko sighed. “We have to get out of this screwed-up world.”

  “Damn straight,” said Tina. “As soon as we’re not running for our lives, we’re doing everything we can to find a way back home. Right, ’Blayde?”

  SilentBlayde dropped his head back to her shoulder, not saying a word.

  Chapter 10

  James

  James was being dragged through the gnoll village again. This time, though, he was cool with it. He would have preferred not to be facedown in the mud, of course, but that was an important part of the plan. A plan that, so far, was working perfectly.

  Dragging the tied-up James behind him, Thunder Paw stumped his way right past the guards—living and undead—back toward the pit of spikes. A few gnolls snickered as they went by, but most of the hyena-men were too busy preparing for war to pay attention to the old Naturalist and his captive. Tied up and backward, James smelled the pit before he saw it. The fetid mix of old lake bottom and rotten flesh hit his new, sensitive jubatus nose hard, making him gag as Thunder Paw jerked him up to his feet and barked at him to move to the edge of the pit.

  The drained-lake-turned-murder-spike-pit was near the center of the new Red Canyon village, and the only dark spot in the place. The rest of the camp was daylight bright thanks to the countless braziers, forge fires, and endless patrols carrying torches, but the pit had nothing. James supposed this was because you didn’t need light to hurl players to their deaths, but the darkness made the forest of stained wooden spikes look more even ominous.

  He’d hoped the lack of light would also hide the bodies, but he’d forgotten about his new ability to see in the dark. Even without the torches, James’s jubatus eyes picked out every corpse. Their terrified faces burned themselves into his mind. Some were still frozen in their final scream, the black curls of death magic rising from their open mouths like dancing snakes.

  Shuddering, James tore his eyes away from the gory spectacle and forced himself to focus on what was really important: finding a safe place to land. Thunder Paw was already nudging him to the edge. Once the old Naturalist shoved him over, James would have only a few moments to find something suitable among the dead players’ equipment. A good landing was critical, but as he scoured the bloody mud at the pit’s bottom for a likely spot—preferably near a choice weapon—a huge shadow fell over them.

  “What you got there, Thunder Paw?”

  The booming voice had the same odd, unnatural overtones as Thunder Paw’s, but it was much, much bigger. Trembling, James turned to find himself staring at the iron-plated feet of the biggest gnoll he’d ever seen. The same one who’d killed the smith with his own anvil earlier.

  Gore Maul, Chief of Chiefs, the undead warrior boss of Red Canyon.

  James shrank back. He’d played FFO for a long, long time. He’d been toe to toe with uncountable nightmare creatures, most of which were much larger than him. But all of those monsters had been in the game, safe behind the wall of virtual reality. But the ten-foot-tall undead gnoll in front of him now was real, and James felt the terror of that all the way to his bones.

  Just like in the game, Gore Maul was covered from head to toe in crudely pounded armor made from inch-thick iron plates. Only his eyes were visible, two ghostfire torches flickering in the dark of his helmet. At his neck, he wore a black collar like Thunder Paw’s but far larger and reeking with death magic. Everything about him reeked. The stench of rot rolling off the undead gnoll was strong enough to overpower even the smell of the pit, but even more terrifying were the plumes of cold, oily black magic that rose from his body like smoke, curling on a wind that only the dead could feel.

  “What you got?” Gore Maul asked again, his giant collar translating the growl into a booming demand that made James’s ears ache.

  Thunder Paw cowered with a high-pitched whine that his own collar seemed unable to translate. “Me done with this one,” he said meekly after several seconds of shaking. “Killing him now like the others. See?”

  He pointed at the bloody pit, and Gore Maul’s white-fire eyes narrowed. “What you use him for?”

  “He very good with lightning,” Thunder Paw lied. “Me wanted to learn secrets. But him have nothing to teach, so he die.”

  Gore Maul grinned, showing a wall of dark-yellow, pointed teeth through the jaw-hinge of his giant helmet. “Good, good! But you old. You not throw proper.” He reached out, grabbing James in a huge metal-gloved paw. “As chief, Me get pleasure of throwing this one.”

  Thunder Paw leaped to stop him, but it was far too late. The giant gnoll was already rearing back like a pitcher, taking
aim at the very middle of the pit before he lurched forward, lobbing the still-tied-up James as high as he could into the air.

  James couldn’t help but yowl as he sailed over the spike pit. In midair, he got himself together and grabbed his right thumb to dislocate it. It would hurt like hell, but he only needed one hand to slip through the ropes so he could catch himself with a Stone Grasp spell. No matter how hard he pressed, though, his thumb stayed stubbornly in its joint. It seemed the same health system that had kept him from dying from all the random choppings and beatings was also now preventing him from the one minor act of self-maiming necessary to escape. Too bad that wasn’t going to save him when his chest landed on a spike.

  Cursing his luck, James pushed on the ropes with all his strength, twisting and struggling in the air while Gore Maul laughed. Then when he was close enough to see the spiky death rushing toward him, instinct took over, twisting his body just right to orient himself facedown on all fours. James was resigning himself to the fact that “jubatus always land on their feet” would be his last thought when, suddenly, a huge earthen hand smashed its way out of the pit.

  Wooden spikes exploded as the giant hand reached up and snatched him out of the air. It was the same spell James had used on the gnoll who’d attacked him on the road—the Stone Grasp spell—but he wasn’t the one who’d cast it.

  His poor shaken brain was trying to figure out who had when Gore Maul’s booming voice bellowed, “Traitor!”

  James wiggled his head out of the giant stone fingers just in time to see Gore Maul backhand Thunder Paw with the force of a truck. The blow sent the poor old gnoll flying, and he landed with a crunch at the far edge of the pit. When he raised his head, his flat, hyena-like jaw was crumpled, and his arm was turned in the complete wrong direction from his body. He grabbed it with a whine of pain, struggling to pop the mangled limb back into its joint as Gore Maul stomped over.