by Terry Miles
They were a perfect match.
It looked like Mordecai Kubler had used an accurate map of North America for his fictional land of Tsippos, and by extension accurate maps of Washington State for the Province of Other Poseidon, and Seattle for the city Oudwood.
“Up here you have The Labyrinth,” I said, pointing to the circle at the top of the triangle on the map of Oudwood, “and there, in the center of The Labyrinth…”
“Holy shit,” Chloe said as her eyes followed my finger. “It’s WorGames.”
“The Tower,” I said.
“Do you think this shit might be real?”
“Look at the bottom-left-hand point of the triangle.”
“Is that the building where you found that weird graffiti behind the dumpster?”
“Sure is,” I said.
I pulled out my phone and dropped four pins in my map application: the exact locations of the three points that made up the triangle or pyramid, and the point in the center of the labyrinth, then I handed my phone to Chloe.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Our map.”
“Fuck me, are we really doing this?”
“Whattaya think?” I said. “Win the game, save the world.”
41
AN UNKINDNESS
In The Horns of Terzos, Xana begins her quest at the bottom-left-hand point of the pyramid, journeys to the right corner, and finally ends up at the top. In the novel, the highest point of the pyramid is known as The Gate.
Passing through The Gate delivers Xana into a world that looks almost identical to her own, but is actually somewhere called The Other Place.
Xana has now entered The Labyrinth.
When she eventually makes it to the center of The Labyrinth, she’ll have to find a way to defeat The Man in The Tower.
“You really think if we hit the three points of this pyramid we’ll actually find this Crow guy?”
“I don’t know. I think we might.”
“Okay,” Chloe said. “Let’s go find your Man in The Tower.”
* * *
—
We decided we’d start by following Xana’s path in the novel from the beginning, so Chloe drove us back to the alley behind the pop-up record store.
We walked over and took another look at the wall behind the dumpster. It appeared to be unchanged, but I took a picture just in case.
After I hit the button on my phone to take the photograph, the light in the alley dimmed a little, and for a split second I thought I saw the symbols come to life and shimmer against the brick wall, suddenly awash in a swirling darkness.
I shook my head and pressed my palms into my eyes. I smelled something familiar in the air, like wet feathers and fur. I was disoriented by the smell, and I could hear blood suddenly pounding in my ears. I tried to shake it off, but my body felt endless, like there were no borders between me and the world, and I was suddenly extremely cold. I knuckled my hand hard against the wall to both try to steady myself and use the pain to pull me out of whatever weird reverie I was falling into.
The next thing I knew, we were driving down the street in Chloe’s car—and judging by our location, we’d been driving for about ten minutes or so.
“I have to pee,” Chloe said.
I just stared straight ahead, trying to figure out where we were and how we got there.
“Are you okay?” Chloe was staring at me.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Oh, you’re perfectly fucking fine, are you?”
“Please, just tell me where we’re going?”
“We’re going where you told me to go.” Chloe looked down at my phone, which was sitting on my lap, the map I’d downloaded earlier displayed on the screen.
We were driving toward the point at the bottom-right-hand corner of the pyramid, someplace called Bellevue Downtown Park.
“Stay with me, K,” Chloe said.
I could tell she was worried.
I was worried too.
I’d just lost ten minutes of my life.
* * *
—
Bellevue is just across Lake Washington from Seattle. The twenty-one-acre park features a huge circular lawn with a wide waterfall that empties into a beautiful reflecting pond. Near the center of the circular lawn there’s a cluster of three large trees. If there was an obvious starting point for exploration, that cluster of trees was definitely it.
“What do you think we should be looking for?” Chloe asked.
“I don’t know. Something related to the game,” I said. “The Moonrise? Maybe a white rabbit?”
“Oh, thanks. That’s super helpful.”
As we started walking toward the cluster of trees, I felt something change.
An irresistible sinking sensation rolled over me like a thick slow wave. I looked around for the cold and crawling things I knew had to be out there waiting, but all I saw was a great creeping darkness move across the park, slow and steady, like the shadow of an enormous haunted airship from another age.
“I think we might need to hurry.” I grabbed Chloe’s hand and we rushed forward into the small grove of trees.
“You sure you’re okay to do this?” Chloe asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, which was a total lie. I felt terrible. I was feeling completely untethered again, like I was floating at least three feet above my body. I wanted to let go, to relax, but I was worried that if I did, I’d end up passing out or missing time, or both.
I bit the inside of my lip. Hard. The pain and tang of blood brought me back to my body.
I needed to keep it together.
* * *
—
Chloe and I stood in the small clearing with those three large trees. Above us, the leaves and branches came together, forming a high canopy. We took a look around, but aside from a group of enormous ravens perched high in the treetops, there didn’t appear to be anything particularly unique or interesting about the area.
I could feel the darkness. It was close. If I shut my eyes, I could sense something inside me reaching out, trying to connect with whatever was out there waiting.
We needed to hurry.
Once again, I looked around for some kind of sign that we’d come to the right place, but nothing appeared significant. No symbols carved into the trunks of the trees, no rogue skywriting in the firmament above, no strange foliage that didn’t appear to be indigenous to the area.
I heard a rustling sound and took another look up at the trees. There were more ravens than I’d initially thought—a lot more.
The tops of the trees were now almost completely black.
As I stared up at the huge black birds, my mind went back to a summer vacation with my parents. They were having an animated discussion about whether a group of ravens was called an unkindness or a conspiracy. I couldn’t remember which one of them ended up being right.
Then I felt my body growing thick and heavy, and the light of the world dimmed again, or, more accurately, everything became slightly desaturated, the formerly vibrant colors of the park now faded and distant. I grabbed Chloe’s hand and started to run. I couldn’t risk passing out or missing time again. We would just have to move to the next point on the map and trust that we were following the right path.
As soon as we started to run, the ravens took off into the sky—all of them at once. The sound of their wings as they all rose up together was deafening. There were hundreds, maybe as many as a thousand or more of the enormous black birds. They momentarily blacked out the light as they swirled, cawing and flapping, above the small grove of trees.
We ran as fast as we could through the park, away from the ravens, and as we ran, I could hear sharp hissing and spitting snaps as the sprinkl
ers in the grass behind us began popping up and spraying.
I looked back as we finally stepped off the grass of the park and onto the sidewalk. Only those sprinklers that had been directly behind us as we ran had been switched on. None of the other sprinklers in the park had been activated.
I had no idea if the ravens and the sprinklers were signs that we were on the right path, but they would have to do.
A couple of blocks before we made it back to where we’d parked, Chloe pulled me aside and reminded me that she had to use the bathroom. She pointed to a Starbucks across the street.
* * *
—
The coffee shop was pretty busy. Dozens of people were going about their day, looking at their computers, communicating with loved ones and reading articles, books, or magazines on their tiny screens.
They couldn’t feel the darkness that was coming.
But I could.
I rubbed my arms nervously as I waited for Chloe. She was taking forever in the bathroom and I wanted to keep moving.
“Harold,” the barista called out—the name of the person who had ordered the most recent drink. “Harold.”
Six men slowly made their way up to the counter.
“Harold?” the barista said again, clearly freaked out.
All six men held up their hands and looked around.
They were all named Harold, and they were all kind of confused.
“Nonfat latte?” the barista called out, hopefully.
“Is that for Harold?” A man stepped out of the men’s bathroom and made his way to the counter.
Harold number seven.
Kellan Meechum believed this type of significant coincidence was an indicator that you were following one of his Radiants, and Hazel had said something similar about the game as it related to these types of occurrences.
Did this mean that we were on the right path?
Or was this maybe a sign of something else? Something terrible? I felt my stomach drop. I looked over at a tower of chocolate espresso beans and artisanal popcorn that was flanked by baskets of bottled water on either side. There was no way the world could possibly end among things like these, was there? I thought back to Crow’s weird lecture about being locked in the trunk of a car. At least in that scenario you knew where you stood. There was something about considering an apocalyptic event while standing in the middle of a Starbucks staring at a banana nut muffin that felt sadly unreal.
I knocked on the door to the bathroom. “Everything okay in there?” I asked.
No answer.
I knocked again, and this time I noticed that the little green indicator above the door handle said “vacant.” The door was unlocked.
I pulled the door handle down. “I’m coming in,” I said, and opened the door.
The bathroom was empty. Chloe was gone.
I checked the other bathroom. Empty as well.
There were only two doors, and I’d been standing in front of them the entire time. There was no way Chloe could be anywhere but inside one of those two bathrooms, and there were no windows in either room.
She was gone.
I ran through the coffee shop, past the Harolds, and out into the street. I could feel the presence of the shadow things out there, like some kind of weird barometric pressure building up behind the fabric of the world.
I looked down at my phone. The point of the pyramid was about twelve miles away. I wondered if I’d blacked out and Chloe had somehow slipped past me, but I definitely hadn’t experienced any lost time, and Chloe would have no reason to leave me there alone.
I called her. There was no answer.
I summoned an Uber. Five minutes later, I was on my way to Chloe’s place.
I thought about heading directly to the top of the pyramid to complete Xana’s quest, but there was no way I was going to leave without making sure Chloe was okay.
I half-expected my driver’s name would be Harold, but it was a middle-aged woman named Geneva.
I asked her to wait for me while I ran up to check Chloe’s loft.
But I couldn’t find it.
Chloe’s name wasn’t listed anywhere in the directory, and when I buzzed the number of her suite, a man answered. He told me he’d been living in that unit since the building had been converted into a residential property, and nobody named Chloe had ever lived on that floor.
I got back into the car and instructed Geneva to take me to the tip of the pyramid. I had no idea what was happening, but the last time Chloe and I were together, that was where we were headed.
It was up to me to try to finish what we’d started.
* * *
—
The tip of the triangle or pyramid pointed to a strip mall in Northeast Seattle.
I stepped out of Geneva’s Prius and looked over the names of the stores in the strip mall. Nothing stood out.
I turned around to see if there was anything nearby that might be connected to the game, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sky.
At first it looked like storm clouds, but clouds didn’t move like that. Something was coming. The darkness was swirling above a four-story building that took up about a quarter of the block directly across from the strip mall. At the top of that building was a neon sign that read: PYRAMID SELF STORAGE.
Their logo was a pyramid beneath a shining sun: a circle above a triangle.
I hurried across the street into the Pyramid Self Storage loading bay and ran up a short set of cement stairs that led to an open service window connected to a small office. There was nobody there, but a handwritten sign on the counter said “Back in fifteen.”
I’d been waiting around for a few minutes when I realized I didn’t have a plan. What was I going to ask them when they came back? Should I try to bribe them to show me the register, like a detective in a Raymond Chandler novel? Ask to rent a locker myself?
I decided I’d go with option two when I felt a familiar chill.
The shadow things had arrived.
A darkness descended from somewhere and began slowly pooling around the loading bay. Long tenebrous swirls twisted and slid along the smooth gray concrete. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the service window.
I wasn’t sure if the darkness was pursuing me or if I was moving along one of Meechum’s Radiants and this was just part of that process. But, either way, it was coming, and I knew exactly what was going to happen if it reached me.
I would be torn apart like the Magician in that Super 8 movie.
I took off running.
As I ran along the polished concrete corridor between the small reddish-orange garage doors that provided access to the various storage lockers, I could feel the darkness behind me, cold, hungry, and impatient—and closer now than ever before.
I could feel it longing to feed.
I rounded a corner and ran down another hall, speeding past the rows of padlocked metal doors, the darkness close behind.
Eventually, I turned in to a long corridor that ran the length of the entire building. As I ran, I finally felt like I was putting some distance between me and whatever was back there.
But the corridor was coming to an end.
About twenty yards ahead, I could make out the familiar vertical wooden slats of an old freight elevator.
I was moving so fast that I almost slipped and fell when I tried to slow down.
As I crashed into the elevator, stabs of pain from my wrist and shoulder alerted my brain that something was wrong. I ignored the pain, clutched the slats with two hands, yanked up the elevator door, and dived inside.
As I grabbed the rope and pulled the door closed behind me, I could see the gray shapes in the darkness.
Long thin shadows, like dark smoky fingers, slipped through the bars. Just as the darkness was about to reach me, I
slammed the green button and the elevator started moving up with a hard lurch.
But I was too late.
The shadow things flooded the elevator and I could feel them sliding into my mind. The world swam and shook, and I felt like my head was being ripped apart. Then I was falling backward into an impossible deep black.
And then I passed out.
42
WIN THE GAME, SAVE THE WORLD
I woke up in the elevator.
Not the storage company’s freight elevator, but the elevator in The Tower that had taken me to the penthouse to meet Crow. The PH button was illuminated and I was moving up. Fast.
I was only in there for about thirty seconds or so before the elevator stopped, the doors opened, and I was staring out at the same wide hallway as before.
I did my best to compose myself. Twice I’d been up here, and twice I’d had completely different experiences. I had no idea what to expect this time.
After I felt calm enough to walk, I stepped off the elevator and into the hallway.
I made my way quickly down the hall, passed through the now-familiar glass double doors, and entered the small lobby.
The last time I’d been here, the lobby was empty. This time, however, there was a man sitting behind a reception desk. He was Persian, in his late twenties, wearing a dark gray sweater and white collared shirt.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m here to see Crow,” I said. No point in messing around.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
He nodded and forced a smile. I heard the sound of him hitting a few keys on a keyboard, and then the foyer was completely silent.
I took a seat in one of the six small teak chairs that made up the waiting area, and glanced down at the reading materials stacked neatly on a narrow glass coffee table. Rather than the usual terribly-out-of-date magazine selection, there were books: The Beatles Anthology, The Future of Architecture, Aesop’s Fables, The Malacetic Atlas, Information Graphics, and something called Cooking for Your Future Self.