by A. J. Markam
You’re the absolute BEST I’ve ever had – just the sarcasm in her voice alone –
But I sucked it up and didn’t say anything more as we headed for the plantation. I kept my eyes on the prize: the experience points and the prospect of getting to level up tonight.
We joined the procession of carriages winding up the front drive to the main house. It felt like the three of us were the poor relations who had to hoof it on foot.
The manor was straight out of Gone With The Wind, with massive columns and porticoes and a vast porch out front. Not to mention it was pretty wild seeing all the different modes of transportation riding up in front – carriages that looked straight out of Cinderella, drawn by everything from horses to giant lizards. There were even flying mounts that landed in the grass out in front of the house. Gentleman debarked and then offered their hands to bejeweled, gowned ladies as they got off the backs of griffins and flying steeds.
We made our way up to the front porch of the plantation, where Alaria’s presence was already beginning to attract attention. Every man around her swiveled their heads to follow her as she passed – and virtually every woman either smacked their dates or scowled at Alaria behind her back.
I have to admit, no matter how much she’d pissed me off earlier, it was kind of cool having the hottest chick in the world as your date.
In front of the main door stood frogs dressed as footmen. I’m not kidding. They were literal frogs, just two feet tall, standing on hind legs, wearing suits and tri-corner hats with wigs made of tightly rolled curls. It looked like somebody had painted a picture of the Founding Fathers in the U.S., but replaced them with amphibians, sort of like an aquatic version of ‘Dogs Playing Poker.’ I was guessing these guys were cousins of the merman we had met at Old Lil’s bait shack.
They stared at us with their big glassy eyes as we walked up on the porch. “Your names?” one of the frogs croaked.
“We’re probably not on the list – but we have this,” I said, flashing the Medusa ring that the plantation owner had given me.
As soon as the frog saw it, he bowed and scraped and gestured with one webbed hand. “Right this way, sir.”
“Can you tell me if Lord Odeon’s inside?” Alaria asked.
The frog nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Last I saw him, he was over by the refreshments.”
We moved through the house as a lovely melody wafted from from a nearby room. We peeked in and saw an ensemble of exotic instruments playing something akin to a waltz, as dozens of couples spun around a massive dance floor in extravagant dresses and well-tailored suits.
As we kept on going, women and men walked by in a weird conflation of anachronistic time periods and Dungeons & Dragons: elves in silken dress robes, dwarves in military-looking uniform, women in elegant ball gowns, and the occasional character with blue skin or the head of a werewolf.
We found the ‘refreshments,’ which so far was the understatement of the evening. It was a lavish display covering six tables, with trays of every kind of delicacy. All sorts of roasted meats cut up into bite-size morsels. Artfully arranged displays of exotic fruits. Silver platters of elegant pastries. Large crystal punch bowls filled with different colored liquids, from red to light blue to phosphorescent green. There was even a fountain trickling wine down multiple tiers. Revelers could fill their cups from a dozen different spouts spilling out into a three-foot-diameter basin at the bottom.
Stig immediately tried to jump up on the table and dive head-first into the wine fountain. I grabbed the coattails of his jacket and hauled him back to the ground just in time.
“Not in here,” I growled, then filled a silver goblet and handed it to Stig. He downed it in one gulp, then held it up as though asking for more.
“No, you can’t get drunk before we – ”
The dwarf opened its mouth as though to speak, and I knew any second a muppet-like croak was going to come out of that black, bushy beard.
“Alright, alright,” I grumbled as I filled up two more goblets and handed them off. Stig happily double-fisted them, sipping from one and then the other.
Suddenly I felt Alaria stiffen beside me. I looked over at her and immediately saw who she was staring at.
About 20 feet away stood a well-dressed gentlemen, around 55 or 60, with kindly features and snowy white hair. He wore the same tight trousers and boots as the rest of the gentlemen at the party, including myself, but his jacket and shirt looked just a little bit more luxurious than everyone else’s. He exuded money, poise, and aristocratic grace.
“That’s the guy?” I asked.
She nodded silently. I could see the hatred in her face.
“He’s kind of old,” I muttered.
She flashed me a scowl. “It was a long time ago when I worked for him.”
“Was he young then?”
A look of disgust crawled over her face. “No, he was still old.”
I raised my eyebrows at her.
She scowled again. “It’s not like I get to choose who I serve.”
I took it as an intended insult, and shut down my facial expressions as I turned away. “Fine. What you want to do?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her looking at me.
If I didn’t know that I was dealing with a succubus, I could’ve sworn that she looked at me with sad tenderness. But I’m sure that was just wishful thinking on my part.
“Well?”
“I need you to introduce me,” Alaria said.
“I don’t know him!” I protested, annoyed.
“Just tell him about the plantation owner and the way we protected his interests today,” she smirked. “He’ll eat it up.”
“Fine. So I introduce you, then what?”
“No, actually, don’t introduce me – not at first. Just walk up with me on your arm. He’ll ask who I am on his own, and I’ll take it from there.”
“What, you think he’ll try to seduce you?”
“Oh, I know he’ll try to seduce me.”
“He’s kind of old.”
“That never stopped him in the past.”
I scrunched up my face in disgust as I thought about this old Warlock with a bunch of nubile female demons all around him at his feet.
I stuck out my arm and said, “Let’s go.”
Alaria hooked her arm in mine. I felt the side of her breast brush up against me, and I thought of earlier this evening with a real sense of loss.
Man, this sucked.
But I still had a job to do.
We walked over to Odeon as he was finishing up a conversation with an elf. As soon as the pointy-eared guy left, I stepped in.
“Lord Odeon?” I asked.
He turned to me with a bored expression. “Yes.”
Then he caught sight of Alaria on my arm, and all his attention was diverted to her.
“Yes?” he repeated, but in a far more interested and charming tone of voice.
Alaria just giggled and hid her smile beneath her dainty hand, enclosed in a white silk glove.
I had to admit, if I didn’t know how much she hated the guy, I would’ve been incredibly jealous – she put on that good of a show.
“I just wanted to meet you,” I said. “We helped out your neighbor this morning by – ”
“Wonderful, wonderful,” Odeon said, not even looking at me. He took Alaria’s satin gloved hand and kissed her knuckles while never losing eye contact. “You must tell me, who is this charming creature who is your companion tonight, Mr. – the name escapes me – ”
“Ian,” I said, irritated. The bastard wasn’t even attempting to pay me any respect. “Ian Hertzfelder.”
“Who is this lovely creature, Mr. Hertzfelder?”
I realized that wasn’t one of the details we’d worked out – and I doubted I could use her real name.
Alaria jumped right in. “Lalania,” she said, and lowered her eyes shyly as she smiled.
“What a beautiful name,” the old codger said. “Are you husband
and wife?”
“Oh no,” Alaria said quickly.
“Fiancées?”
“No, not at all. We’re merely friends.”
“Well then, Mr. Hertz– what was it again?”
“Hertzfelder,” I snapped.
“I shall have to steal this lovely creature from you for a moment and take her on a tour of my mansion. Will you excuse us?” he asked, and led Alaria away without even awaiting my response.
What a complete asshole. Entitled, rude, rich piece of crap – I was going to enjoy killing his wrinkly old Warlock ass.
Alaria threw me a glance over her shoulder like Follow me. Then she returned to looking at her former master, who was blissfully unaware that he was walking towards his own execution.
I looked around for Stig but couldn’t find him anywhere. Keeping one eye on Alaria and Odeon as they strolled leisurely through the crowd, I also searched for my imp/dwarf.
He was over by the wine table, of course.
I walked over, pulled the goblets out of his hands, and set them on the table.
“Awwww, come on, boss,” he whined.
“Time for work. Let’s go.”
Stig stumbled along behind me as I walked towards the door Odeon and Alaria had disappeared through.
I entered a dark hall lined with oil paintings of what I assumed were Odeon’s ancestors. Lots of old men in armor or fancy suits – usually armor when they were younger, and fancy suits when they were older. Lots of portraits of women looking snooty, like they had sticks so far up their asses it would take an operation to get them out.
No one else was in the corridor, though I could hear voices from around the corner.
“I must say,” the old man’s unctuous voice purred, “you are by far the most fetching beauty at the ball.”
“You flatter me, sir.”
“If I may be so bold, I am surprised to find you without a proper companion for the evening.”
“My friend is a fine companion, sir.”
“Oh, I am sure he is fine for card games and chitchat,” the old man said mockingly, making my blood boil. “But I was thinking of someone who could offer more… pleasurable pastimes.”
I offered her plenty of pleasurable pastimes just a couple of hours ago, you old fart.
“And what sort of pleasurable pastimes would those be?” Alaria giggled.
“Perhaps I should just show you,” the old man murmured, and I heard the sound of kisses on bare skin.
My jealousy got the better of me, and I edged right up to the corner so I could peek around it.
At the end of the dark hall, outlined in moonlight from an open window, Odeon stood behind Alaria and kissed her bare shoulders.
Behind them was a large, ornate mirror, with an ornate, golden frame around the edges. It must have stood 10 feet tall, and it reflected the entire moonlit corridor back at me.
Odeon wasn’t looking up, but seeing myself in the reflection startled me. I backed up just enough that I could peek around the corner and see what was going on, but not enough to be noticed.
Odeon was standing behind her, with his hands placed on the outsides of her arms.
Alaria’s head was cocked to the side, to let him continue his caresses along her neck – but the look of disgust on her face was overwhelming.
That look of utter disgust put me back at ease.
“You know, the last time you did this, I didn’t have a say in it,” she spoke aloud.
Odeon stopped kissing, though he didn’t move his head. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I was pretty sure he was wearing an expression like, Oh shit, what is this?
“What are you talking about, my dear? We have never met before tonight.”
“Oh, but we have. In fact, we knew each other for many years.”
Odeon straightened up and stepped back in alarm. “I am sure I do not know what you’re talking about.”
Alaria turned around to face him. “It’s just that I look different at the moment. But you… you’re exactly the same. As repulsive and lecherous as always.”
The old man’s face grew cold and menacing. “I’m afraid I will have to ask you to leave.”
“Why? The party is just getting started. Ian?” she called out, and I stepped around the corner.
Stig stumbled drunkenly after me, ran into a wall, and fell over backwards.
Not exactly the most imposing entrance, but it probably worked, because Odeon immediately relaxed. As far as he was concerned, we were a bunch of bumbling amateurs trying to blackmail him out of a few gold coins.
“Leave now, or I shall have to call my guards and create quite a scene, which I’m sure you would prefer to avoid,” he said in a sinister voice.
“Oh, yes – we do want to avoid making a scene,” Alaria said. “Or at least one that anyone might see.”
I tensed up, waiting for the signal from Alaria. She was playing cat to Odeon’s mouse, and was enjoying herself. She’d really taken the whole ‘a dish best served cold’ thing to heart.
“Leave now before I have to tarnish your reputation by having you forcibly ejected.”
“I couldn’t give a damn about my reputation. That was ruined decades ago, long before I ever met you.”
“Mademoiselle, you keep speaking as though we are old acquaintances, but I do not know you,” Odeon said with a voice like icy steel. “I have never laid eyes on you before in my life.”
“Perhaps this will jog your memory,” Alaria said, and two fireballs appeared in the palms of her outstretched hands.
At the same time, her dress burst into flames and slid off her body in a crackling pile of burnt cloth.
The necklace must have melted or something, because the spell was broken. A pale-skinned, white-haired French aristocrat no longer stood in front of Odeon, but a red-skinned, raven-haired succubus with bat wings.
The expression on Odeon’s face was priceless. OH SHIT pretty much covers it.
I immediately began casting my Darkbolt – but in the two seconds it took for me to get the spell ready, Odeon did something completely unexpected.
He turned and ran.
And not just into another room. He ran through the ornate gilded mirror at the end of the hallway, the one right behind him.
It was bizarre: one second he was running headlong towards his own reflection, and then the next his two bodies met and melded into one.
There was nothing left on this side of the mirror, but I could see him running deeper into the mirror world’s hallway.
I tensed up for some sort of weird freaky mirror attack, but he blew past my reflection inside the mirror.
What the hell?
“Ian, come on!” Alaria yelled, and darted through the mirror.
Just like Odeon, she met her reflection head on, and then a second later was running down the shadowy mirror-world version of the hallway.
“Come on, Stig!” I yelled, then ran after her full tilt.
Stig scampered after me as I headed for the mirror. I really hoped this worked, otherwise it was going to suck knocking myself out, not to mention cutting my face all to hell.
But it did work. There was a sensation of passing through a cool sheet of water, and then I was on the inside of the mirror.
Freaky.
Maybe this was one of the new worlds that John Perkins had mentioned when I was hired.
I followed Alaria down the hallway, rounded the corner, and headed for the ballroom.
As I ran, something surprised me. I was expecting it to be entirely silent. I mean, we were in a reflection world, right? The ball wasn’t going on here.
Except that it apparently was – because I could hear music playing.
But it was wrong.
Screechy, discordant, and ugly, the music made my skin crawl like fingernails screeching down a blackboard.
As I ran, I looked in terror all around me. Hundreds of ball attendees turned and stared at me – but they weren’t human, dwarf, or elf.
&nb
sp; They had faces made of pure fire, with mouths, noses, and eyes sculpted from glowing embers and burning flame. They were all wearing the fancy dress of the people back in the game world, but their clothes weren’t consumed by the flames.
I looked around me in horror, but nobody made a move to attack us. They just watched with undisguised curiosity as I ran after Alaria and Odeon.
In addition to the music and partygoers, the house itself was wrong. The walls were all speckled and streaked with black fungus that spread out like nightmarish lace. The beautiful artwork in the other world was now hideous and corrupted, with disfigured faces leering out of the paintings, and scenes of mutilation and torture depicted in the style of Rembrandt.
Alaria and I burst into the main foyer of the house just as Odeon was rushing down the steps outside. We raced past the footman, which were no longer frogs but twisted, vicious demons with shark-like rows of teeth.
Once we reached the porch, I saw how strange everything was outside, too. The sky was a deep purple, almost black but not quite. Shimmering clouds of phosphorescent green shifted and glowed in the sky, sort of like the aurora borealis.
Instead of green grass on the lawns, the foliage was black and spiky. The rosebushes that had adorned the outside of the house now had evil-looking black blooms, with vines that twitched and undulated grotesquely.
Everywhere there had been a tree around the property, there now stood a black, gnarled growth that burned with deep blue fire. I looked out across the horizon and could see hundreds of them lighting up the night like bonfires.
Miles away in the distance stood something that had never existed in the other world: a giant castle with a single massive tower. Everything about the city glowed a dull orange, like iron taken out of a blacksmith’s forge.
Odeon jumped on the nearest animal – a black stallion with glowing white eyes and bat-like wings – and then thundered across the plains towards the glowing city.
“Come on!” Alaria yelled at me as she set off across the black grass, running like a sprinter in her stiletto-heeled boots.
“Where are we?” I asked Alaria as I ran up next to her. “Is this hell?”
“One of them.”
“There’s more than one?”