by Natalie Grey
The final boss waited beyond the line of pale fire on the ground. His axe hung heavy in one hand, and his eyes were pits of darkness. His armor seemed to burn from within. Thad had a vague idea that this was some figure in the lore from way back, but he didn’t know more than that.
What with the craziness lately, it wasn’t like he’d had time to do things like watch cinematics.
“Ready check,” the new healer said.
The team looked at Thad.
“Initiate it,” he said, nodding at the healer. He still didn’t know the guy’s name; he got cagey whenever it came up.
People checked in quickly, and they stepped over the line into the arena. A timer came up at the bottom of the screen, telling them how long it would be until the room was locked, and the main timer at the top showed their overall time left to beat the dungeon. They were doing well, even better than they had done before.
Thad waited for a frost aura from Harkness, their lead ice mage, then charged the boss. He knew the boss was bringing his axe up for a heavy downward stroke, but Thad could get under the swing in time to get behind his opponent.
After the strike, the boss pivoted to face him and Thad began building threat. The motions were as natural to him now as breathing. He held his shield up as he turned and slashed, dancing in and out to avoid the boss’s heavy, slow movements. There was a tradeoff here: the slow strike timer meant that Thad had a lot of time between needing to dodge, but if he misjudged, he was a goner.
And in this particular dungeon, there was no battle resurrection. When you died, you died.
They couldn’t afford for that to happen to him.
It wasn’t long before the first geysers appeared, flames shooting up through the floor and coalescing into fiery ghosts. They screamed as they ran for the mages, and Thad turned to follow them.
“Stay with the boss,” the new healer barked.
Thad froze and nearly missed dodging an axe swing.
That axe looked amazingly useful. Tanks could wield axes, of course, but a proper battle axe meant he’d be giving up his shield, and there was no way to do that and tank effectively. He sometimes wondered why they’d even bothered to put the mechanic in the game.
His blood was heating with anger, and he opened a private channel to the healer. “I’m the guild leader, not you.”
There was a pause while the player performed a chain-heal, and then he responded acerbically, “We both know the skills I have. You can either play by my rules, and I will lend you those skills for your purposes,” it was clear just how little he thought of those purposes, “or you can continue to bicker over petty indicators of rank, and I will leave.”
Thad ground his teeth. He had been involved enough with the healer’s words that he had missed a few strikes, and his threat was dropping. He increased it, anger lending emphasis to his movements.
“Good,” the healer said, still privately. “If you do your job, I won’t have to give orders where everyone can hear them.”
White-hot fury washed over Thad, but he could see the team’s health bars along the side of the screen, all in a safe range. Despite the boss’s fire ghosts, this healer was keeping people alive.
By this time in their other attempts, things had already been going to shit—even with Jamie.
“What’s your name?” Thad said. “We have to call you something.”
“Perhaps you should have picked a better name than TrialHealer,” the man said. “You can call me Yesuan.”
“Like the dungeon?” Thad felt a flicker of suspicion, but it was gone as quickly as it came. There weren’t words for him to name his thoughts; there weren’t enough dots to connect yet.
“Like that.” The healer didn’t clarify further. “After this swing, get out to the edge of the room.”
Thad didn’t question it. The heals, he saw now, were coming fractions of a second more quickly than they should. Yesuan might or might not be a better healer, but he certainly had abilities the rest of them didn’t have.
Well, if Callista could have a ranking from some stupid side quest, he could damned well have a healer who had a better casting time.
He dodged out and looked back over his shoulder to see the boss stomp his foot and then spin in a heavy circle, his axe out. Anyone there, Thad guessed, would have been stunned and then one-shotted by the hit.
“Back in,” Yesuan said, sounding almost bored.
It did feel boring this way, Thad thought. There was no element of surprise and no thought that they would fail. After everything he had seen of Yesuan, there was no doubt that they would win this fight. How could they not? Yesuan could see things no one else could, level up instantly, equip himself with gear that should take months to get, and heal faster than anyone else.
So it wasn’t a surprise to watch the boss’s health creep down. Thad was barely checked in as he followed Yesuan’s suggestions of when to get close or seek shelter. He let his mages deal with the various waves of fire ghosts and kept threat.
The boss went down, thudding to his knees and then bursting into a scatter of embers across the floor. Thad stared at them and tried to feel proud. Tried to feel anything.
The only thing he felt was the sinking sensation that he was in over his head.
They divided the loot—a few pieces had dropped, one of which would fit Yesuan, although he clearly had no need for it—and logged out, and Yesuan sent a party invite to Thad without any further explanation.
He insisted upon meeting in the ruined temple near Kithara, for some reason, the one on a hill overlooking the city. Thad climbed the slope alone, swearing internally rather than even muttering the words, and found the Piskie staring out at the world. He looked over his shoulder as Thad approached and wordlessly looked back at the view.
“So,” Thad said tightly. Bitterly, he added, “You could have one-shotted that boss, couldn’t you?”
“In a live-streamed Month First, that would be noticed by a great number of people.” Yesuan still sounded bored. “You wanted a raid healer, and that was what you got.”
Thad swallowed his anger. “What do you want?” He had to ask the question.
“I’ll be sending you training for the rest of the team,” the Piskie said. It should have been ridiculous, hearing those flat orders through the high-pitched voice filters, but it wasn’t. The aura of command came through anyway. “I expect you to do that instead of your regular training.”
“I would need to submit documentation to our bosses—”
“Then submit it.”
Thad’s hands clenched. “Fine,” he said flatly. “Anything else?”
Yesuan looked at him, a long look in which Thad sensed not so much contempt as a deep and abiding disinterest. Yesuan didn’t care about him at all.
“I am giving you everything you want,” Yesuan said, “and you hate me for it. I should expect that by now,” he added.
“Who are you?” Thad demanded again. His voice was tight. “Who the hell—”
“This is the path I chose,” Yesuan said, clearly to himself. He brought one hand up to his mouth in a pensive gesture that would be better suited to literally any other race than a Piskie. He looked at Thad. “There is only one question I have for you: will you do what I tell you?”
Thad swallowed.
The silence stretched. If Thad had hoped to win this standoff, he wasn’t going to.
“Yes,” he gritted out.
“Then you will get what you asked for in return,” Yesuan said. “There is nothing more to discuss. You may go.”
He turned back to the view and dissolved the party, leaving Thad staring at his back for a long moment before he turned and left, hatred and fear swirling inside him—along with a growing sense of being utterly trapped.
Chapter Twelve
Kevin stopped dead when he got to the apartment that night. “What am I smelling?”
“Food?” Jamie called back cautiously. “Does it not smell good?”
“No
, it smells amazing.” Kevin came around the corner into the kitchen. “It also smells like…yep, you’re cooking it.”
“My father once told me,” Jamie said, concentrating for a moment as he flipped the grilled cheese sandwich, “that if you learned to cook, you’d always be able to have what you wanted for dinner. It seemed like solid advice.”
“Okay, but explain how you got grilled cheese to smell that good.” Kevin walked over and peered into the pan. “Did you sacrifice a virgin or something?”
“Well, obviously. But aside from that, the trick is pretty simple: first step, caramelize some onions in butter, then add a bit of red-wine vinegar. I don’t mean half-assed caramelize them either; I mean take the time and do it right.”
“Let’s pretend I know what that means,” Kevin said drily. He opened the fridge and peered inside. “Beer? Wine? Are you old enough to drink? I should have thought to ask last night.”
“I’m thirty-two,” Jamie said, aggrieved.
“You’re shitting me. Well, then, beer, wine, neither?”
“Wine, I think.” Jamie went back to cooking. “Where was I? Right. First, you caramelize the onions, then you sauté up some garlic in butter and mix the garlic in with the onions, then you make a mix of cheese—throw in something like gouda or gruyere—and make the sandwiches. With more butter. The key is butter.”
“Aaaaand there go my abs,” Kevin said, staring into the pan with resignation. “It smells good enough that I can’t say I mind too much, though.” He sighed deeply as he turned back to pour two glasses of white wine. “Besides which, it’s not like the abs have been working out for me.” He held a glass out to Jamie.
Jamie took it gingerly. “Oh God, you have actual wine glasses. I just drink wine out of…”
“Juice glasses?” Kevin said, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip.
“Definitely not straight from the bottle, I can tell you that much.”
“Dear God, man. All right, we’re going to teach you some things. First of all, how to pair wine with food.” Kevin began taking down plates and silverware. As he set the table, he called over his shoulder, “With a melted cheese sandwich, you generally want to go with a dry wine rather than a sweet one. Something crisp. The most common kind you’ll be able to find almost anywhere would be a dry riesling, but Chablis is also an option. Be careful with reds. Go light-bodied if you really want one.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Jamie said bluntly.
“All right, hang on.” Kevin set the plates down. “You serve those, and I’m going to go get a sweeter white. I’ll be right back.”
“Eh?” Jamie plated the sandwiches and brought them over to the table while Kevin poured more wine—just a touch this time—and put it beside the full glass.
“Okay.” Kevin sat down. “We’re going to skip the minutiae of tasting wine. For now, take a bite of your grilled cheese—oh fuck, that’s good—and then a sip of the first wine I poured you.”
Jamie complied. “Okay.”
“Right, now take another bite of grilled cheese—seriously, I want to marry this thing—and a sip of the other wine.”
Jamie took a sip, a bit bemused, and made a face. What he’d expected to be a sweet wine tasted very sour and odd.
“Yep.” Kevin smiled. “You don’t have to know fancy words or anything; just read up on what types of wines go with the stuff you cook. Here, how about this: you give me some advance notice of what you’re cooking for dinner, and I’ll get a pretty easy-to-find wine that pairs well with it. Sound good?” He held up his glass to clink.
“Yes,” Jamie said. He clinked his glass with Kevin’s, took a sip, and resisted spitting the wine back into the glass. “Wrong one.”
Kevin snorted quietly into his glass. “Seriously, thank you for dinner. You absolutely do not have to cook or anything. You’re a guest.”
“Who crashed here on very short notice, with you taking PTO to come pick me up at the airport during rush hour,” Jamie said with feeling. He considered. “Maybe it’s not a big deal to you, but it means a lot to me.”
Kevin blinked at him. Jamie saw the urge to say something flippant, then Kevin smiled back. “Of course,” he said simply.
Jamie went back to his food. “I can teach you how to make this,” he added around a mouthful of grilled cheese.
Kevin nodded through his own bite. “I’d like that,” he said after he had swallowed. He spun his glass of wine on its base thoughtfully. “Changing things up seems like a good idea.” When he saw the look on Jamie’s face, he added, “I’m sorry. You hardly need to be listening to me bitch about my life.”
“I don’t mind.” Jamie honestly didn’t. “I just don’t…get it. You’ve got the car, the apartment, the clothes, you’re in fucking awesome shape, and you know all that shit about how to pair wine with food. I guess I’m confused about what you think you’re doing wrong.” He waved his hands. “Like, you’re not even an ass about knowing how to pair wine with food!”
Kevin, who’d been taking a sip of wine, choked, then wiped his mouth. “Well, thank you for that. I’m glad to know I’m not an insufferable douche.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I’m just givin’ you a hard time.” He grinned and took another drink, then leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Look, it’s hard to explain, and not really something you’d want to hear.”
“Try me.” Jamie raised an eyebrow in imitation of Kevin’s earlier expression.
Kevin blinked at him. “All right, then. I was supposed to be the golden boy.” He shrugged. “I played baseball. I played football. I got straight As. My parents thought they knew where I was going, and that mental image was me with a career and a wife and a bunch of blond kids. And then I came out to them, and…they didn’t cope with it well. Over the past couple of months, I’ve realized that I’ve spent the past fifteen years trying to be successful enough for them to be proud of me anyway.” He gave a little laugh. “Goddamned stupid.”
Jamie couldn’t say anything for a moment. He hadn’t realized until Kevin said that how similar their childhoods had been. Jamie, too, had been the golden boy, the one with the bright future.
And while he hadn’t been as successful as Kevin, he’d also been the one who didn’t fit into the box his parents had built for him.
He held up a finger, went to get the bottle of wine, and topped off both their glasses before holding his out. “From one embarrassment to another? I get it. I went the other way, and it didn’t do me any better.”
Kevin’s smile was slow, and he nodded before toasting. He took another bite of his grilled cheese and sighed happily. “Damn, this is good. Okay, so tell me…what’s going on with the guild?”
Gracie was hunched over the counter, halfway through a stack of PB&J sandwiches, when the door opened and Alex came in with a bag of takeout. He blinked at her sandwiches, she blinked at his bag, and then he offered her a wicked smile and said, “Well, I guess I get your share, then.”
Gracie gave him a pained look.
“Just kidding.” He put the bag on the counter and shrugged out of his coat. “I know better than to try that. That’s how a man gets killed in his sleep.”
“A girl has no roommate,” Gracie said philosophically before pulling out plates and forks. “Not out with Sydney tonight?”
“Meeting up with her after her shift,” Alex explained. “By the way, they had a special on an insanely spicy Pad Thai, so I got you that.”
“You’re a dream.” Gracie looked through the boxes. “I’m guessing it’s this one, with the pepper and three exclamation marks drawn on the top?”
“Sounds right.” Alex slid into his chair. “I’ll just…sit at the other end of the table.”
“Pansy,” Gracie said affectionately. She opened her container carefully as Alex dug into his red curry.
“So, how’s Jay?” Alex asked. “Yeah, don’t touch that stuff with your bare hands.”
“Not planning on it. Yo
u only gotta rub your eyes once before learning to be more careful about your life choices.” Gracie took a bite. “Oh, son of a bitch. Holy fuck. I’m going to die. This is so good.”
“Your decision-making is fucked,” Alex told her. “I just want you to know that.”
“Such exquisite pain, though.” Gracie chewed. “It burns. Yeah, that’s the stuff. Okay. What were we talking about? Right, Jay.” She grinned and shrugged. “He’s good. We’re good. Things are good. Except I suck at PvP…but he wasn’t there to see that, so at least I don’t have to run away and hide in shame.”
“You suck at PvP?” Alex asked doubtfully. “You?”
“I’m good at puzzles,” Gracie said, sucking in air desperately around a burning mouthful of food. “And I know the sorts of puzzles people set up. But fighting the people instead? That’s unpredictable. People would just wait and kill you when you rezzed.”
“Ah, yeah, camping.”
“What is that?”
“It’s…staying by someone’s corpse and killing them when they respawn.” Alex shrugged. “Staple of PvP, really. Also, you should get some water. You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” Gracie managed. “I just have to keep eating so the spice doesn’t catch up with me.”
“Sounds like drug addiction, but okay.” Alex took another bite. “By the way, I did an unethical thing.”
“You’d be great in sales.”
“I know, right?” He grinned. “Harry didn’t show up for his next appointment, so I looked up the address we had for him and went by. It didn’t look like anyone was there, and while I was waiting, the landlord showed up and asked me if I was there for the tour. Said the guy moved out with no notice, so no idea, but…”
“Maybe he gave you a fake address.” Gracie shrugged.
“No, he described the dude. Anyway, thought you’d want to know you don’t have to worry about him showing up.”