Auction of Souls: Fantasy GameLit RPG Series (Pixel Dust Book 3)

by David Petrie

  “You…” Luka’s face contorted into a severe frown as she ran out of words.

  “I know it’s frustrating.” Max sent the mage a party invite. “But right now, we need to work together.”

  “Where are Ginger and the others?” Larkin added himself into the party as well.

  Echo pointed up as if that was an answer.

  “They’re heading to the bridge to stop the Silver Tongues from crashing this death trap,” Max added as he took out another three enemies, then reloaded. “Which is why we are going to get these people out of here.”

  “Aren’t you heroic.” Larkin reached out to adjust Max’s scarf so that it hung straight. “There, now you look the part.”

  “Good luck getting the rest of the survivors to work together.” Alastair swept a hand out to the pair of remaining lords, Murph and Promethium, as well as Klaxon, Dalliance, Grindstone, and Dartmouth. “I mean really, it has been like herding cats in here.”

  “Huh.” Max noted that none of them were moving toward the doors like he had suggested a moment before. “Looks like they just need some motivation.”

  “Okay, everyone, I get it!” Max stomped his way up onto a pile of debris, standing as tall as he could while Farn kept the enemies at bay. “I get that none of you trust each other and would probably stab each other in the back first chance you got. But right now, let me introduce you to someone,” He pointed with the muzzle of one of his guns to the reynard chained to his wrist. “This is Nix.”

  “Hi.” The reynard wagged her tail and waved.

  “And I hate her.” Max ignored her friendly demeanor. “I know she doesn’t look like a monster, but I assure you all, she is a liar, a fake, and she’s hurt people that I care about.” Max let that sink in. “Yet here we are, working together to save your selfish asses. So, I have to ask, if I can fight alongside this piece of crap–”

  “Hey–”

  “Then what the hell is wrong with all of you?” He thrust one gun down toward the floor. “Put your differences aside and get down here.”

  The group stood, scattered across the stage. Many exchanged glances, followed by a few shrugs. Then they started moving.

  “About damn time.” Max turned back to the theater doors.

  “Yeah!” Nix chimed in.

  “Shut up, Nix.” Max glowered down at her, getting an annoyingly playful grin in return. He turned away from her, half expecting a bullet in the back.

  None came.

  A part of him was starting to believe it wouldn’t. Hell, she could have shot him a dozen times over already.

  So why hadn’t she?

  Max hadn’t really kept her alive because he needed her help. If anything, having her bound to his wrist was a hindrance, so why had he brought her along?

  The short answer was trust.

  He needed to know she was telling the truth. He had to be sure that Kira being alive wasn’t a lie. Turning his back on his enemy seemed like the best test. If she shot him and ran, then everything was a lie, but if she helped him through to the end then, maybe, Kira was safe.

  Max brushed an ember off his shoulder and stared down at the group that had gathered below him to place their trust in him.

  “Get ready,” Max stepped down from his makeshift stage and led everyone toward the lobby. “The Silver Tongues have left a transport on the landing pad at the front of the ship. It’s not big but it’s enough to get a few lords to safety. The rest of us will stay behind and fight the Void once you’re clear.”

  Max didn’t wait for confirmation before marching toward the theater’s flaming doors. As he walked, he raised both pistols vertical in front of his face and whispered, “Custom Rounds, Frost.”

  Ice crystals spread across the grips of his guns, chilling his fingers to the bone. He ignored it and flicked both weapons to full-auto. Nix followed behind, holding up a coil of silver chain so it didn’t drag on the ground between them.

  Max pushed on through the flames without waiting for the villain.

  She can keep up.

  He raised his weapons and fired in both directions. The heat of the fire faded away, replaced by a cold chill as blue light exploded from his guns. Ice formed around the door on his wake to carve a path through the lobby. Nix took it upon herself to deal with any enemies that stood in their way.

  “We don’t have to make it far.” Max turned back to the others. “Just across the deck and up those stairs.”

  “That might be easier said than done.” Farn peered out through the lobby’s glass doors.

  Max stepped to her side and peeked out from the side, finding the deck more crowded than he remembered it being on the way in. With all of the ship’s passengers dead, the creatures that filled the deck didn’t seem to care about making eye contact anymore. Instead, they just went for whoever was closest.

  “Looks like we have some work to do.” Nix reloaded her M9. “You ready to show off?”

  “Just don’t slow me down.” Max pulled a handful up magazines from his pouch and handed them to Luka. “You’re on ammo duty.”

  “What?” The federal agent stared at him blankly.

  “Just stay close and keep me loaded.”

  Nix did the same, handing a few magazines to Larkin.

  “Alastair.” Max turned to the Cauldron mage. “Get a spell brewing, but don’t use it unless you have to. Save it for the Void if you can.”

  “Alright.” The CEO of Checkpoint Systems nodded and pulled a black pouch from his coat.

  “Everyone else, get ready to fight.” Max reloaded.

  Lord Murph did the same, snapping a fresh magazine into a gun with an extended barrel. He was joined by Lord Promethium, who swiped open a spell-craft menu and readied a few debuffs for the horde outside. Klaxon didn’t hold out either, dumping a pouch of ingredients into his caster’s circle of power. Even Dalliance and Grindstone pulled weapons from their inventories.

  Then there was Dartmouth, who hid behind everyone else. Max rolled his eyes at the elf before placing his hand firmly against the door.

  “Stay close and move fast.”

  He was shooting before even setting foot on the deck. Nix followed suit, her pistol blazing into the night. They sprinted forward, dropping low to sweep their tether across the floor boards. The silver chain caught the feet of a dozen of Void’s minions. They fell like bowling pins, becoming easy pickings for Farn following behind them.

  Activating her Feral Edge, Farn drew power from the Death Grip’s shield generator to increase her sword’s damage. The blade snapped open down its length to release a flow of energy from within, forming a massive glowing blade nearly twice as long. It crackled with an aura of rage that hadn’t been there before she’d gotten the Death Grip. With it in hand, she tore apart the enemies in her path.

  Max pulled the chain attached to his wrist free from the pile of bodies and yanked hard, reeling Nix in. She pushed off him, using him as an anchor point to swing out across the deck and kick an enemy with enough force to send them flying into several more. They were lucky that the void creatures didn’t use magic or ranged weapons.

  Hell, they didn’t even try to block.

  “Keep moving!” Max pushed his pistol against the chin of an enemy in his path and fired. A blast of crimson light exploded into the air. “We’re almost to the stairs.”

  Just then, a scream echoed across the deck from the rear of their group. Max stopped cold and spun, catching Grindstone being dragged off by a pair of slimy forms wielding daggers. Dalliance was next, a crimson streak of light cutting across his chest as a sword slammed into the deck at his feet.

  There was nothing Max could do.

  “Don’t worry about them.” Alastair kept running for the stairs. “They were lawyers!”

  Max didn’t argue, making use of the distraction that the pair of fallen elves provided. A moment later he reached the stairs with Nix still at his side.

  “Let’s go.” She bolted up the first few steps.

&n
bsp; “Wait!” Max yanked back on the chain. “There’s not much resistance up there, we should cover the rear while the Lords make their escape.”

  “Good call,” Nix held onto their chain with one hand to make sure no one tripped over it.

  “Go with them, Farn. Just in case.” Max gestured to the Shield with his head.

  “On it.” She plowed up the stairs to clear a path for the others.

  Dartmouth was first to follow, shoving Nix out of the way as he ran by. Larkin stayed behind to help her back up. Luka hung back as well, taking up a position next to Max. The rest pushed onward, each running up the stairs in an organized line. A few grabby hands reached out as they went, but Nix was able to put them back down. She stepped up the first flight and pressed her back against Max’s.

  “You worry about the rear. I’ll keep them safe as they climb up.”

  Max nodded and took aim as the entire deck swarmed toward them. The slides of both guns locked back empty in seconds. He tapped the mag release buttons and dropped the spent magazines to his feet.

  “Now, Luka.” He twisted the weapons toward her and the mage slapped in another pair. “Perfect.” He unloaded them again, feeling the elf beside him fall into rhythm, sliding in another pair as soon as he called for it.

  “Two left,” she called out.

  “Same.” Larkin added just as he slid a new mag into Nix’s M9.

  “Start moving.” Max pushed his back against Nix, forcing her up toward the landing pad. “We’ll have to use the stairs as a choke point.”

  That was when the sound of engines starting came from above.

  “Sounds like the lords are on their way home.” Max put another round between a pair of black eyes.

  “Then why do they sound so pissed?” Nix pointed up the stairs where Alastair and Noctem’s other rulers were shouting in the direction of the landing pad. Curse words filled the air like bullets, as well as some actual bullets from Lord Murph.

  “We gotta move.” Max shoved Nix up a few stairs before turning and rushing up behind her. Larkin and Luka ran close at their heels. Max stopped short as soon as he reached the top.

  Everyone was still standing outside the transport ship, yet the door was shut and the engines were running. That was when Max noticed they were one lord short.

  Dartmouth.

  “The bastard said there wasn’t enough room and locked us out.” Lord Murph reloaded and turned back toward the stairs.

  Max stalked to the front of the aircraft and pointed a gun at the cockpit.

  “Get the hell out of there, or I’ll make you get out.”

  Dartmouth glanced out at him but quickly returned his attention to the controls.

  “This is your last chance.” Max pointed his other pistol at the spoiled brat in the cockpit. Dartmouth simply ducked out of view. Max groaned and holstered his guns. “New plan, climb on top of the ship, you don’t have to have to be inside to get away.”

  “That’s insane.” Lord Promethium glanced back to the stairs like he might make a break for it.

  “Don’ have ta tell me twice.” Lord Murph ignored him and ran toward the ship.

  “Wait!” Nix threw a loop of chain around the lord’s neck.

  “Hurk! What’s your bloody problem?” He fell backwards on his ass.

  “That.” Nix pointed to the cockpit as the transport ship began to lift off.

  “Oh no.” Max covered his mouth, catching a dark shape approaching just behind Dartmouth’s shoulder. The Silver Tongues must have left someone behind to guard the ship, only to have them taken by the Void.

  The transport climbed a dozen feet overhead, then lurched to one side and dropped out of the sky. Max ran to the edge of the platform just as the craft crashed into the deck in an explosion of fire and slag.

  “Anyone else have any ideas?” Nix shrugged.

  “No, and also, we’re doomed.” Alastair pointed back to the stairs as the horde that climbed into view.

  “Just keep fighting.” Max pulled his guns and opened fire with his last pair of magazines. “How many more could there be?”

  “We can’t kill all of them!” Alastair took a step back. “If we do, it will trigger phase two of the fight. And we’re not equipped for that.”

  “What choice do we have?” Max fired until his guns locked back empty. “We’re out of options here.”

  Nix holstered her weapon, ready to take on the horde hand to hand. Larkin snapped his crafting shears apart, prepared to charge. Luka dropped every heal she could into her quick-cast queue, ready for one last stand.

  “I’m going to cast Desolation!” Alastair outstretched his hand. “Be ready to rush them afterwards. And don’t get blown off the ship by the blast.”

  Max crouched down and braced for impact while simultaneously getting ready to run into the madness. That was when a voice reached out over Lockheart’s house line.

  “Looks like you all could use a lift?”

  “Wait!” Max grabbed Alastair’s wrist.

  “What?” The Cauldron turned around, an annoyed expression on his face just as the Cloudbreaker rose up from behind the landing platform. Ginger’s son, Drake, sat at the controls.

  “I was getting a little bored following the ship out there, so I flew closer. Pretty glad I did. You should probably give me a more important job next time.” He gave Max a smug wave as he pulled in to land.

  “Yes, yes, you saved the day, now get the door open.” Max kicked a void creature away from the ship as it touched down.

  The door slid open and Max leaped in to grab some ammo from the stash he kept aboard. He reloaded and turned his weapons to the door to lay down some cover fire. Players piled in all at once. Three lords, a villain, a crafter, a federal agent, and one empty-headed avatar climbed aboard. It was a full boat. Farn climbed in last, slamming the door on one last grabby hand.

  Drake leaned back over the pilot seat as they lifted off the deck.

  “I take it things have not gone as planned?”

  Chapter Forty

  No! Seven watched her new boss fly into the window of the bridge. At the same moment Cassius shoved the dangerous end of his spear in her face, forcing her to catch it with one hand. She had to do something.

  She couldn’t survive on her own.

  A brief glimpse of her stat-sleeve showed Ginger’s health just before Cassius unleashed a torrent of flames in her face. Fire consumed her world and Seven retreated into the only thing that still made sense.

  Math.

  Numbers never lied or tried to manipulate her. They could always be trusted. Seven’s mind sped up as the glass around Ginger shattered in slow motion; there had to be a way to save her.

  Ginger’s hit points had been 1985 out of 3168. The resourceful Coin had blocked a critical hit but still lost thirty percent. On top of that, with the distance she had to fall to the deck, her body would hit terminal velocity before landing.

  Seven wasn’t sure how the game calculated fall damage, but she did remember how a player had died earlier when Kegan had pushed them down an elevator shaft. If that distance had been enough kill, then so was the distance to the deck.

  If Ginger had a functioning grappling hook, she could save herself, but with the mechanism out of commission there was no way to stop her fall.

  Seven was out of options.

  Or was she?

  It might have been a glitch in Seven’s overheated brain, brought on by the flame thrower pouring fire into her face, or maybe she was just losing her mind. Either way, one detail climbed to the surface.

  Ginger still had more than three hundred hit points…

  Seven reacted without thinking further, throwing her hatchet at her employer.

  “Catch!”

  The familiar sound of the weapon sinking into flesh met her ears just as Ginger passed through the window. Seven immediately thrust out her hand to call the possessed hatchet back.

  “Why aren’t you dead?” Cassius twisted a ring on the shaft o
f his spear, increasing the jet of fire pouring into Seven’s face.

  “Because she’s fireproof, you ass!” Ginger plowed into the man as Seven felt the handle of her hatchet slap back into her hand where it belonged.

  Cassius and Ginger toppled to the floor, a deep gash of glowing crimson light decorating Ginger’s chest. She rubbed at the wound as it faded away.

  “I can’t believe you just axed me to pull me back to the bridge.” Ginger drew her dagger. “I don’t know if I should be horrified or grateful.”

  “Does that mean I get a raise?” Seven fell to one knee, panting as the floor around her burned.

  “We can talk about it later.” The Coin got back to her feet and drew her dagger. “Right now, keep him busy while I get to the door to let the others in.”

  Seven did as her boss ordered, stepping toward Cassius. The man slammed the butt of his spear down to hoist himself up. Seven didn’t give him time to recover, cracking her whip a few feet before him. The flaming leather cord snapped back, releasing a plume of fire in his direction. He might have wielded a weapon of flame, but unlike her, he could still be burned. Granted, her attacks couldn’t hurt him with her stats entirely focused on survival.

  But he didn’t know that.

  Plus, having flaming a whip cracked in your face was probably pretty distracting.

  She kept at it, being careful to avoid making contact to keep up the illusion. The sound of her whip shattered the air as Cassius stepped back. Seven glanced over her shoulder to catch Ginger shoving another one of her bombs down the pants of one of her former housemates.

  Shock filled the man’s face as the Lady of Lockheart booted him down the stairs. A muffled bang came from below followed by a squeal of panic.

  That was horrifyingly inappropriate. Seven looked away, pretending that she hadn’t seen it happen.

  She cracked her whip again, its flames fanned by a cold wind blowing from the broken window. Cassius continued to stay back. It wouldn’t last forever. Eventually he would figure out she wasn’t a threat and rush her.