by Shawn Wyatt
Evey and Bastion laughed behind me. “That guy is something else,” Bastion said. “But I do miss them all.”
“Me too,” I said.
I watched them read the final letter, and their expressions soured at the mention of Azelbub.
“Let them kill it before it grows stronger,” Evey said. “That was a fight I don’t want to repeat.”
“I’m afraid we might have a similar one waiting for us here,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go get some gear.”
Nothing in the market caught my eye. Evey repaired her equipment at the weapon shop, but Bastion shrugged at any new weapons. "This sword is good enough for me," he said—but the Prophet did shell out several gold pieces for Blacksmith training.
Wish lucked out. She found an armorer that could add spikes to her robes. “We’ll give you that death metal look you’ve always craved,” the armorer promised.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Despite her reluctance to believe the woman, she handed over her equipment and left with a grin on her face. “Think I can get an in-game title of Napalm Death?” she asked.
Bastion frowned. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“Not everyone can share your love of jazz, old man,” Wish retorted.
Bastion frowned.
“What, did I hurt your feelings?” Wish asked.
“Shut up, would you? Look at this,” he said.
A piece of paper hung from the wall outside the shop. Actually, several pieces did—and each one depicted a different member of our party. “Wanted: Dead or Alive. Report the kill to the Pirate King.”
"You've got to be kidding me," I said.
“I told you she wouldn’t stop,” Evey said.
“I’m just insulted the bounty is so low." We had to be worth more than 10,000 gold pieces.
Bastion ran his hand over his face. “She got my nose totally wrong,” he said.
I started to laugh, but someone shouted from the end of the alley.
"There they are!"
Chapter Thirteen: Hunted
At the end of the alley, a Beast Tamer stood with her companion at her side—a large sea-bird of some kind.
Something moved above me. I leapt to the side, a split-second before a dagger impacted where I had stood. A Dervish Djinn crouched on the roof of one of the buildings, nothing but his eyes visible behind his mask.
A man, dressed in full plate mail with a battle-axe to match, blocked the other end of the alley: an Olympian Berserker.
“What was that about the bounty being too low?” Evey mumbled.
"At least we aren't bored." I drew my pistols and aimed at the Dervish above. The opponents blocked all the exits.
“Bored?" Bastion drew his blade and the flames around its length sprang to life. "Did you forget about the dead part of that wanted poster?”
“Well, did you really expect us to make a visit anywhere in this realm without trouble?” I asked. “It wouldn't fit with our whole dynamic, you know.”
The Berserker planted his sword in the ground in front of him and called out. “Surrender now and we won’t hurt you.”
“Four of you and five of us,” I said. “And our bear eats birds for fun. He ate an oversized seagull not too long ago.” I glanced at the Beast Tamer with the last sentence.
She stiffened at my insult. “Seagull?” The bird at her side screeched in defiance.
“Seagull,” I said. I took a closer look and narrowed my eyes. All three of our assailants were players. They didn't have their levels hidden—all level 19, so weaker than us—but the Berserker could do a lot of damage in a short time. We needed a tank. I lowered my voice. “Wish, any chance you can summon your wolves behind that guy?”
“It’s already done,” she whispered. The wolves began to coalesce in the air behind him. The Berserker was oblivious. “They’ll strike when needed.”
“We’re more experienced fighters,” the Berserker said. “And how do you know we don’t have more backup waiting in the wings?”
“If you had backup, you’d bring them all at once,” I said. “After all, if you’re after the bounty, then you already know our reputation. So bring it on.”
Bastion barked a laugh. “Aren't you supposed to be the diplomatic one?"
The Berserker started to move. “Wish, now!” I called.
Without a word from the Invoker, the four Spirit Wolves leapt forward. The impact drove the plated Berserker to the ground. It would take him a few seconds to get back up. I shifted my attention to the Djinn waiting over—looked up, aimed, and fired—but the shots met only air. The fighter leapt backward and vanished from view in a puff of smoke.
Boris stepped between us and the Beast Tamer, his fangs bared in a vicious snarl. The seabird took to the sky and beat its wings to gain height before it dived. A well-aimed arrow from Evey sent the bird to the side at the last minute in a desperate dodge. Boris charged, and the Beast Tamer stepped around the building and out of sight.
“Boris, stay!” Evey called. He skidded to a halt and stood guard at that entrance of the alley.
He could handle the Beast Tamer on his own.
"Ren, behind you!"
I heard Bastion's warning in time to dodge, but the Djinn's dagger tore across my arm and opened my shirt. Blood sprayed across the wall in front of me.
I winced at the pain. “Too slow!” I said. I leveled a pistol and fired. The shot went wide. Nowhere near where I aimed. “What the—“
Something was wrong. My arm wouldn’t move. One second later, my entire body froze in place and refused to obey. My voice emerged as a strangled croak.
The Djinn stepped out of the shadows in front of me, a wicked grin on his face, and raised his dagger. Light glinted off the edge of his blade. He started to speak, but a jagged bolt of green energy slammed into his side and staggered him. “Bastion, Ren is down,” Wish called.
Bastion parried a blow from the now-risen Berserker and cursed. "I'm a little busy right now! What do you mean down?"
A timer ticked down in the corner of my vision. Four seconds remained.
Evey loosed an arrow at the Djinn, but the trickster blurred in place and the arrow went through him. He vanished from view once more, but left behind a vial in his place. Visibility fell to nothing.
One second remained.
The timer vanished, and I fell to the ground. I could move again, but I couldn't see. Steel clashed against steel to my left. Boris roared a challenge to my right. Footsteps rang behind me. I snapped my pistol over my shoulder, but a hand pushed it away.
“It’s me,” Evey said. “Wish is right behind you.”
"What's going on? Why can't I see?"
“I don’t know. We’ve never dealt with a Djinn subclass like this,” she whispered.
“Bastion!” I called out. “Are you okay?”
“Just peachy!” He grunted. “Seems like our boy blinded his own allies, too.”
“But not myself.” The raspy voice sounded from everywhere at once. “We tried to warn you. You're outmatched.”
The poisoned dagger flashed through the smoke. My HP dropped, and the debuff timer reappeared. Evey hissed in pain. So did Wish. Their HP gauges hovered in the side of my vision. Still green, but a small lightning bolt pulsed beside their names. I cursed. I had always thought paralysis was an overpowered skill in any game. To experience it myself woke a visceral panic in my gut.
No part of my body responded. My limbs might as well not have been my own.
Bastion’s HP dropped by a quarter. I couldn’t see him, but his grunt of pain told me the Berserker had managed to land a blow. I heard the unknown player curse. “How are you so good with a blade? Your class doesn't use them.”
“I’m just full of surprises,” Bastion snarled.
Through the smoke, I saw the crimson glow of his blade. Flames flared and pushed away the smoke. The strike left a vacuum where the blade cut through the air. It must have been terrifying to be on the receiving end of that.
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The strike landed true. I heard the clang of his sword on armor, followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the ground.
Bastion had won.
The Prophet panted from the combat as he approached. The flames burned away the smoke around me. "That guy had more HP than any class should have. I'm going to have a word with P!xel when I see him again. I don't like his class." He stopped ranting for a moment and stared at the three of us where we stood, still as statues. "What's wrong with you?"
At the other end of the alley, Boris roared. Fabric ripped. At the same time, the debuff timer vanished.
“We were paralyzed, you idiot,” Evey hissed. “Where is that Djinn? His blade is poisoned."
Wish laid a hand down on the sand beneath her. Frost crept from her fingers and raced up the sides of the alley. She shook her head. “Not on the roof. He’s laying in wait somewhere.”
The smoke had cleared. Boris engaged the Beast Tamer in a fight, his movements demonstrating an agility that belied his size. Evey removed the seabird from the fight with an arrow to the wing. The injured limb could no longer hold the bird and it dropped to the ground.
The Beast Tamer cursed and turned towards Evey. Boris swiped her into the building and left her unmoving.
Two fighters down.
Bastion checked the Beast Tamer's pulse. "She's unconscious, but not dead." Light pulsed from his hand. "And now she'll stay that way until we take out that Djinn."
The ground split and a wall rocketed between me and the rest of the party. I staggered back. Four walls had risen around me, a black obsidian tomb.
A hand came through the wall. "They're fake," Evey growled. "It's another trick."
I brushed my fingers against the stone. The wall gave way beneath my touch. I stepped through it, only to emerge in front of another wall. “They may be fake, but visibility is shot."
When Evey didn't answer, I glanced at her status bar. Her health had dropped, and the lightning bolt symbol pulsed once more. The Djinn had to be close.
The Dervish class had abilities that let them deal massive amounts of damage at once. Why hadn't he used them? The Djinn wanted us alive for some reason.
Bastion cursed, and metal clanged on metal. "He's darting through these walls," he said.
The fight continued like that—brief, inconsequential strikes. The Djinn appeared as the debuff wore off one person and struck another with it. He toyed with us.
Grey flashed at the edge of my vision. A rapier jutted through the faux wall and found its mark in the Djinn's side. He leapt away. Quinn's voice cut through the air. "You all just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"
"Where did you come from?" I asked.
“Ren! Glad to hear you’re alive. There's a crowd outside this alley, all claiming a fight was going on inside. I didn’t think much of it until—“ Quinn grunted, and I heard the sound of a parry—“Until I saw the wanted poster, and realized you were probably at the heart of it.”
He cut his way through the wall. Quinn’s ensorcelled blades burned through the illusion. Anywhere he slashed left a permanent clear spot, and he carved his way through the alley with a grace that surprised me. “Glad to see you know how to use those,” I said. “I had started to wonder.”
Quinn grinned. “You wound me. I fought off that Withered beast! I just used a cannon instead of a pistol. Look up!”
I followed his gaze. The Djinn scrambled up the side of the building, courtesy of a knotted rope. His HP bar flashed yellow.
I whipped my pistol up and took aim above the Djinn. The bullet severed the rope and sent the illusionist crashing to the ground. He recovered faster than I expected. I kicked his dagger out of his hand and pinned him to the ground with my knee. “Enough.” I pressed the barrel of my pistol into the back of his skull.
The Djinn raised his hands above his head. “Okay, okay. I quit. Man, you guys are tenacious.”
"I'm not fond of surprise attacks," I said. "You could have taken us down. You didn't. Why?"
“Figured I could paralyze one of you and get you away from the group. Turn in the bounty one piece at a time.”
“And why exactly is there a bounty on our heads?”
The Djinn laughed. “You really don’t know? It’s because you—“
Before he could finish his sentence, the crack of a blunderbuss rent the air. The Djinn's skull exploded in a blast of gore. Blood sprayed on my face. The Djinn’s HP dropped to zero.
I returned fire on instinct. Both bullets found their mark—a Marauder Sharpshooter draped in the Pirate King's livery.
Critical hit.
A surprised look flashed across the Marauder's face. He fell from the roof, his HP at zero.
Light bloomed around me. Level up.
"Bastion!" I knew the Djinn was dead. I knew there was nothing the Prophet could do. This game had no resurrect spells. But I had to ask.
He shook his head. "There's nothing I can do."
Had the Marauder aimed at me? Or did he target the Djinn on purpose? My hands shook half from adrenaline, half from anger.
I stared at the corpse, draped in Scarlet's colors, and the truth hit me.
I had killed someone.
Chapter Fourteen: Napari
Guilt swelled in my chest and warred with a sharp, cold anger. The Marauder had given me no choice. He forced my hand.
“Ren. Ren!” Evey’s voice broke through the maelstrom of thoughts. “We should go,” she said. “Now.”
“Right.” I shook my head and holstered my pistol. Murmurs swept through the crowd. If they turned on us, we would be in trouble. We were a long way from the ship. “Let’s go.” I shot one last, long look at the bodies on the ground.
“Trouble really does follow you,” Quinn said.
“Blame Scarlet for this,” Bastion snapped. “It’s her wanted posters that drew attention to us.”
“I told you. Scarlet won’t let what you did go. You humiliated her. Defeated her in front of her men. She’ll exact her revenge somehow.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed the chaos inside me to quiet, if only for a moment. “I’ll worry about Scarlet later. For now, how about we get off this island. Are there any authorities to worry about?” I asked.
Quinn shook his head. “No, no one will come to arrest you. No one official, anyway. Other players might try to stop you. They’re about the only thing standing between this realm and total anarchy.”
The more I learned of this realm, the less sense it made. On Toris, guards prevented brawls between players. There hadn't been any sort of barrier around Fenua, either. Or Tarawi. Maybe Shella had been designed as a PVP zone before the AI warped it. "And how high of a chance is that?"
He shrugged. "Some people make the peace of the island their priority, but the three that attacked you look like bounty hunters. And the Pirate King sponsored the wanted posters. They won't blame you for defending yourself.
Murmurs swept through the crowd as the gathered people stared in our direction. Three men stepped out of the crowd and strode toward us. “Let’s not wait around to find out,” I said.
I led the party out the other end of the alley into a larger thoroughfare. Four buildings down, I ducked into another side street. And then another. I repeated this process several more times before I found myself in an emptier, quieter part of the city.
No one pursued the party. I heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against a wall to catch my breath.
After a moment, Bastion spoke. "Do we have enough supplies?"
Quinn nodded. “While you four were busy, I made sure Betsy was well-stocked with everything we need for the journey ahead.”
I looked around Fenua. A coconut broke free from a tree overhead and crashed into the nets before it rolled into the catch basins. Men and women stood ready to drain its milk and crack open the skin to craft ships and homes and turn the smaller pieces into armor. The island would have been nice to spend a few days here and breathe. We did not have that option. Not
now. More wanted posters clung to the wall of a building across the street.
I tore them off. “None of the information in these posters is particularly useful,” I said. “Just the sketch. Let’s change our look.”
“You mean a disguise?” Evey asked, her eyebrow raised.
“Not a disguise. Just something that will help us blend in a bit more. Outfits that will make it hard to identify us.” I looked again at the sketch. It wasn’t half-bad, all things considered—but it left out a lot of detail. Something as simple as a hat would obfuscate my look.
I had worn a Stetson back on Toris. Maybe it was time to go back to that style. “Quinn. Can you get us a few things?”
He nodded. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll meet you back onboard Betsy.”
After a quickly-scrawled shopping list, Quinn departed and we made our way to Betsy. The four of us huddled in Quinn’s cabin for the next hour. With nothing to do but wait, the time dragged on. After what felt like an eternity, he rapped on the door. “Delivery!”
“Took you long enough,” I said.
“Hey, there isn’t exactly a big call for cowboy-style hats on an island, Ren.” Quinn drew out the syllables longer than necessary in a poor attempt at a western accent.
“Whatever. Just hand it here.” I put the Stetson on. The item was cosmetic, so it offered no stat bonuses, but the front of the hat hung over my eyes. No one would recognize me at a glance.
Bastion donned a set of cleric’s robes, while Evey drew a half-mask over her mouth that left only her eyes exposed.
Wish stared at the outfit Quinn had picked out and raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to wear this?” She held up a frilly, pink-lace dress.
Quinn laughed. “I tried to find something completely opposite from what you currently wear,” he said. “That’s the best I could find.”
Wish stayed silent for a long moment—long enough that I worried for Quinn's continued survival. “I’ll take care of this,” she said. Wish closed her eyes extended her hand. The tip of her finger glowed with a blue light as she traced a circle in the air. When both sides of the circle connected, light flared inside the ring.