Chapter 50

Red Screen

 

 

A similar twilight glow filled her view when Darshana stepped through the Staghead Gate. Lights from the small town twinkled beneath the deep blue sky as she made her way down the hill and through the orchard, oblivious to the other players who traveled the road with her. She thought of Falin as she leaned against a tree outside the Hunter’s Horn, remembering how he’d presented the false quest to her in the busy inn. The deception had been wrong, but she wished she hadn’t treated him so badly after the attack in the Wolfswood. Even though they’d only known each other for a few weeks, she’d still miss him and was sad she’d never get to know the man behind the dwarf.

A golden flash interrupted her thoughts. Em, dressed in his dirty robes, appeared beside her, leaning on the rough stick he used as a staff. “Any sign of the Anomaly?” he asked.

She removed Falin’s mirror from her pack and studied it. “According to this, he hasn’t been in for two days. Do you think he’s figured out how to hide from Falin’s programs?”

Em shrugged. “I hope not. I’m want nothing more than to spring the trap and give the police what they need to find him. The fucking monster needs to be locked up forever for what he did to Angela and the others.”

Shea told Em about Falin’s passing, and he shared with her what little he knew about him. Then they talked about Angela and the terrible way she’d been killed. Maxwell had been interviewed by the police that afternoon and had to relive the horror of finding her. He didn’t think he’d ever sleep again. They sat on a rock wall opposite the inn watching players come and go until the virtual sky had filled with virtual stars.

She stood and stretched. “Looks like he’s a no-show. Maybe better luck tomorrow.”

Em rose with her, and they walked together up the hill toward the gate. They had almost reached it when the mirror vibrated in her pack.

Shea stopped. “He’s in,” she said as she retrieved the mirror. She scrolled through the text displayed in the window open on its polished surface, wishing she’d paid more attention to Falin’s instructions on how to interpret it. After a moment, she turned to Em. “Raven Perch, I think.” She scrolled through some more text. “Táma’s castle.”

Em smiled. “Can’t think of a better place to take the fucker out. You ready?”

Shea handed him the mirror and pointed to the red ruby button. “Push this when the fight begins.” Then she drew the sword from her back. “FOD the fucker if he kills me.”

“I plan to FOD him either way.”

“Not before the ruby turns green. That’s how we’ll know the trap was sprung.”

Em raised his staff. “Here we go.”

Her view was filled with a bright gold light and then she was standing before the lowered draw bridge of a vast fortress. No moon or star light penetrated the thick clouds that swirled around its spires. The outline of its walls and towers were barely perceptible against the black sky. Across the bridge a single torch flickered beside a raised portcullis. Nothing stirred. The gate and the battlements were unguarded. The castle looked deserted.

“This place should be crawling with guards. Where are they?”

Em shook his head. “Don’t know. Maybe the Anomaly ran them off.”

“Nice of him to make it easy for us,” she said. Then Shea grinned and charged across the bridge and through the open portcullis with her sword held high.

Inside the passage was wide enough to accommodate a dozen men walking abreast. Torches illuminated her way, revealing dark side tunnels cut into the left and right walls. She ran past them heedless of concealed attackers. The wizard had her back and would incinerate any character, player or simulated, that emerged to challenge her. She’d been here before and knew the wide passage led to the great hall in the castle’s heart where the mirror had showed the Gray Warrior was waiting.

The passage ended at a massive wooden door with iron hinges and a black knob shaped like a raven’s head. She turned the knob and pushed. The hinges squealed as the heavy door swung inward, revealing a huge open space resembling the nave of a medieval cathedral. Enormous iron chandeliers ringed with hundreds of burning candles hung from the vaulted ceiling, bathing the stonework in a orange glow.

Shea studied the cavernous hall. Like the rest of the castle, it was deserted. “Where is everyone?” she whispered as she eased into the room.

She hadn’t taken two steps before her right temple tingled with a warning vibration from her headgear. She veered to the left as an arrow whistled past and struck the wall inches from her head. Em raced up from behind with his staff raised high above his head. He shouted an invocation phrase and a golden bubble formed around them.

Deep laughter echoed off the stone walls. The Gray Warrior stepped out from behind a column. He drew back his great bow and released another arrow. The missile had been aimed at Darshana’s heart, but it bounced off the bubble and skipped across the stone floor.

The warrior let loose a terrible scream and tossed aside his bow. Then he drew his longsword and bounded toward them. Darshana met him at the bubble’s edge. He hewed at her with his sword, but the spell held back his blade. The monster screamed again. This time the high-pitched wail was almost unbearable. He struck over and over at Darshana’s sword. Each time Em’s spell prevented his blade from reaching hers, but with each tremendous blow Shea could feel the simulation tighten the cords in her arms. The monster was breaking through.

He let go another ear-piecing scream, then raised his sword high over his head and brought it down on hers. This time, their blades met with a blinding flash of red light and a loud ring that reverberated in her headgear speakers. The shield spell had been broken, and Em was knocked to the ground by the force of its breaking.

“Push the ruby, push the ruby!” she shouted as she parried another blow. The monster was strong, but she was Darshana. She drove him back and chanced a look at the fallen wizard.

Em sat up and blinked. He looked dazed and surprised, like he didn’t know what had happened to him. His staff lay in pieces on the floor, but the mirror was still in his hand. The confusion seemed to pass, and he scrambled to his feet. He pointed a gnarled white finger at the warrior. The finger of death. Was the ruby green? She couldn’t tell. Em shouted the FOD incantation, and a lightning bolt leapt from his fingertip and struck the warrior in his chest with a deafening thunderclap.

The monster paused, and Shea held her breath, wondering if the wizard had struck too soon. But nothing happened. The Gray Warrior didn’t disintegrate as he should have. Instead, he seemed to glow for a moment, then the lightning bolt reemerged from his sword and arced back into the wizard’s finger. Em pirouetted like a dancer, dropped the mirror, and collapsed into a smoldering pile of dirty robes.

“Holy shit.” Wizards were not supposed to die. The mirror lay several feet away. Its ruby glowed red. Em had set the trap, but the fight hadn’t generated the right events to spring it. She thought about grabbing the mirror and running. She’d outrun this monster before, but she’d had a head start then. There would be none this time. She wouldn’t make it out of the hall. Her only option was to survive for as long as she could and hope it was enough to trigger the necessary events.

Her resolve renewed, she lifted her sword and shouted, “This is for Táma,” as she brought it down on the monster’s electrified blade. The warrior deflected her blow like he was swatting away an insect and laughed. The ruby still showed red. She spun and parried his counter blow, thankful for Tony’s gift of the faster CCP. Darshana swung again. “This is for Danaka.” Again, her strike bounced harmlessly off his blade. The ruby remained red, and she shouted, “This is for Pharaoh.” Her blade rode down the edge of his creating a shower of sparks. The tip of her sword caught the monster’s chest in its downward arc and sliced open his hide. Maybe he wasn’t invincible after all.

The Gray Warrior took a step back. He studied her with lifeless black eyes. One of his sausage-sized fingers ran over the slash on his chest, then moved to his mouth, as if tasting his own blood. Blue-gray lips curled, exposing yellow fangs, then he roared and lunged forward. As he did, she screamed, “This is for Falin,” and brought her sword down with all her strength. But once again, his blade was there to meet hers. When their weapons collided, it both felt and sounded like an explosion. Shea’s rig simulated the impact by rocking her back and pulling her to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her. When she stood to resume the fight, she discovered her sword had shattered, and all she was holding was a useless shard. Game over.

“I am Akandu,” the warrior roared. “Now, I will have you.”

He plunged his sword into her chest and lifted her over his head. Her rig responded by rotating her. She stared down into his hideous upturned face as Darshana’s blood ran down his blade and covered his arm and chest. The speakers in her headset punished her ears with his laughter. The mirror lay smashed on the ground beside him. She could just make out the green glow from its ruby as her visual field turned red, and the heartbreaking message appeared.

YOUR CHARACTER HAS DIED! – RESPAWN NEW OR QUIT?