23

‘You wander down a darkened tunnel. You’re completely alone.’

The large metal garage door creaked loudly in the wind.

‘And the stench of rotting flesh fills the air.’

‘Thanks for that, John,’ Amanda rolled her eyes and fiddled with the dice in her hand.

‘As Dungeon Master it’s my job to embellish,’ John puffed out his chest from where he sat at the head of the small foldout table, wedged into a plastic patio chair just as Amanda and Shane were.

‘Rotting flesh, really?’ Shane challenged as the wind hammered more fiercely at the garage door.

‘It’s a dungeon,’ John raised his eyebrows so that they nearly met the paper crown he was wearing. ‘It’s highly likely that people are left to rot and die in a dungeon. Hench the smell.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Amanda started to shake the dice she was holding. Her black Linkin Park T-shirt swamped her slender frame and her hair was still a muted shade of lime green from when she’d dyed it for Halloween the previous week. ‘I’m in a darkened tunnel. Which stinks. And I’m alone.’

‘Only you’re not alone,’ John announced grandly, a sly smile pulling on his lips.

‘But you just said that I was.’

Undeterred, John continued. ‘Out of the shadows creeps Declamore, the oldest and the most powerful vampire in all of the seven realms.’

‘Hey, no fair,’ Shane smacked a hand down against the table, causing it to wobble precariously. ‘You made us both abandon our physical weapons when we entered the second level. We’re armed only with magic now!’

‘I offered you a choice,’ John stated sagely. ‘You could have abandoned your weapons or your magic in order to pass through the portal to the next chamber.’

‘Yes but—’

‘Besides,’ John held his palm up towards his friend but did not engage him directly, ‘Tarquin the Destroyer is currently subdued by a sleeping curse, is he not?’

‘Yes,’ Shane grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and sinking low in his chair.

‘Which means that you, Morgana the Wise,’ John stared expectantly at Amanda, ‘must choose how you wish to face this foe.’

‘She gave up her silver blade,’ Shane stretched out his arms in protest, getting frustrated. ‘And you know her magic isn’t strong enough to take on a low-level vampire, let alone Declamore. Why did you even bring him in, John?’

‘Because I am Dungeon Master,’ John threw Shane a venomous look. ‘It is up to I to make the rules. Yours is not to challenge them.’

‘Ours is just to do or die,’ Amanda muttered, still jiggling the dice against her palm.

‘So what will it be?’ John gestured towards her like she were some lucky contestant on a television quiz show. ‘How will you take on the dreaded Declamore?’

‘We’re completely alone?’

‘You’re completely alone since Tarquin drank from the forbidden chalice and thus fell under a sleeping curse.’

‘I told you not to do that.’ Amanda arched an eyebrow at Shane who was once again slumped in his seat on the other side of the small table.

‘I was thirsty.’

‘You’re also meant to be asleep,’ John snapped, ‘so hush.’

‘Um,’ Amanda chewed her lip as she kept twisting the dice around the palm of her hand. ‘I mean, I could run, but he’s too fast. I can’t fight him with my magic and I have no weapon. There’s nothing I can do.’

‘Think harder,’ John urged, ‘there’s always something you can do. Everyone has a weakness, it’s just a case of finding it.’

*

‘He needs to be alone,’ Amanda drummed her fingertips against her laptop as Shane paced around at the end of the bed.

‘Completely alone,’ he snapped his fingers towards her. ‘If one of his goons is close by then that’s it because they will undoubtedly be armed. A guy like McAllister, he’ll always have someone shadowing him. Maybe intercepting him at the club somehow will be our best bet.’

‘He goes jogging.’ Amanda sat up straighter.

‘He what?’

‘Jogging. Every morning, at dawn. He told me that he likes to run through the woods which border his estate. That he likes to be alone with his thoughts.’

‘Okay…’ Shane didn’t sound particularly convinced.

‘Of course,’ Amanda began shaking her head, ‘maybe that was just another lie he told to try and gain my trust. But…’ she picked at the ends of her nails, ‘it seemed real. When he told me.’

‘It was probably just a lie, Amanda. Something else he fabricated to try and make himself seem more human.’

‘But it’s all we’ve got.’

Shane sighed.

‘If I apprehend him when he’s jogging then at least he’s alone, away from his house and his hired muscle. It’s a shot, Shane.’

‘It’s a risk,’ Shane’s voice was hard with resistance. ‘I bet the prick doesn’t even own a pair of trainers.’

‘Isn’t it at least worth investigating? I mean, we’re running out of time.’

‘Jogging?’ Shane’s shoulders sagged.

‘Jogging.’

‘Okay… we’ll look into it.’

*

Amanda rotated her shoulders, doing her best to push past the dull ache which throbbed in her left side.

‘I should be doing some investigating,’ she objected as she set her feet apart in a strong stance and bunched her hands into fists.

‘You will,’ Shane nodded at her, ‘but I need to make sure you’re strong enough to do this. Especially since you keep insisting that it has to be you, not me. Hit it again.’

Amanda drove her arm forward and punched the bag which was hung a few inches away from her.

‘Good,’ Shane noted with approval. ‘Again.’

Her muscles were starting to ache. As were all her joints and they’d only been in the hotel gym for fifteen minutes.

‘Okay,’ Shane gently guided her away from the punchbag and went over to a treadmill. ‘Maybe we should focus on your stamina for a bit.’ He started typing numbers into the treadmill’s digital display.

‘My stamina is fine.’

‘When you apprehend him, if things go wrong, you need to be able to run away.’ Shane looked at the treadmill. ‘Show me you can run.’

Amanda reluctantly climbed up and the small conveyer belt at her feet began moving, forcing her to start jogging. It didn’t take long for a sweat to break out all over her body and for her chest to start burning.

‘Don’t push yourself,’ Shane was standing close by, watching her. ‘Just see how far you can go.’

But Amanda wanted to push herself. Shane was right – she needed to recover her ability to run. She started to jog faster on the treadmill, her feet tirelessly pounding to keep up with the increased speed. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she kept going. Every bruise on her body felt like a needle stabbing down towards her bones but she kept running. She needed to be fast. And strong.

Her knees buckled. The treadmill threw her off like she was an unwanted piece of trash and her back sharply connected with the tiled floor of the gym. ‘Argh,’ she gasped as the air was knocked out of her lungs.

‘I said not to push yourself,’ Shane was quickly helping her back onto her feet.

‘What choice do I have?’ she snapped as she stepped back onto the treadmill.

‘No, we’re done for today. You need to rest,’ Shane was moving his hand towards the machine’s digital display but Amanda swatted him away.

‘I can do this,’ she insisted breathlessly.

‘Amanda, you’re already exhausted.’

‘I need to keep running. Let me keep running.’

*

For the next six hours, Amanda ran, stopping only for toilet breaks and to devour energy bars and bottles of blue liquid which promised to replenish essential electrolytes. Shane looked on with a thunderous expression, but Amanda refused to stop. Her body had once been strong, she needed to remind it of the power it held in its bruised muscles.

As she ran she closed her eyes and imagined she was back in the woods near her home with leaves crunching underfoot as she hurried through the trees. A lacy patchwork of sunlight covered the floor and the leaves whispered as if sharing secrets. Amanda breathed in the sweetness of wild flowers, the damp undertones of a previous storm. This was her safe place. This was where she ran to cleanse her mind of all the cobwebs that got tangled up in her thoughts. When she ran she was free, even though her problems kept biting at her heels. If she just kept running they couldn’t keep up, they could only chase her. That’s how she knew that McAllister was telling her the truth about his morning jogging routine – it was the one chance he had to outrun his past, to try and briefly forget about his beloved daughters.

‘Okay, we’re done.’ Shane switched off the treadmill and Amanda crumpled against him, her legs numb. ‘I’m not sure what you were trying to prove today but—’

‘I can run,’ she rasped. Even though they were numb, she knew her legs had remembered how to sprint. ‘If he chases me, I can run.’

‘Great,’ Shane frowned at her, ‘but right now it looks like you can’t even walk.’

Amanda tried to stand up but failed. She fell against Shane, looking like a newborn deer struggling to get its balance.

‘Fine, here we go,’ Shane scooped her up in his arms, holding her against his chest.

‘You don’t need to carry me,’ Amanda said, indignant.

‘How else will you get back to our room? Were you going to crawl? Or maybe sausage roll along all the corridors?’

This made Amanda laugh. She had the bizarre image of her rolling lengthways along the corridors, slow and steady, round and round, just like she used to roll down the sand dunes at the beach with John and Shane. Only they liked to show off; as Amanda rolled, they did cartwheels and roly-polys. At least Shane did, John’s attempts never quite came off right.

‘You’re pretty heavy, you know that?’ Shane commented as he stepped sideways into the lift, taking care to bundle Amanda’s long legs inside before the doors neatly closed together.

‘Are you calling me fat?’ Amanda teased.

‘I’m not calling you fat,’ Shane panted and repositioned her in his arms, ‘just heavy. There’s a difference.’

‘Is there?’

Luckily the hotel was quiet as they headed back to their room. It was late on a Saturday afternoon and most of the guests were already attending weddings and functions in the large convention rooms on the lower floors.

‘Finally,’ Shane pushed open the door to their room and stepped inside. He kicked the door shut behind him and then froze, Amanda still in his arms.

‘You going to let me down anytime soon?’ she asked, squirming.

‘Huh?’ Shane blinked like she’d just broken some spell he’d been under. ‘Um, yeah.’ He lowered her to the ground and Amanda headed for the bed, her legs still feeling unreliable in managing her weight.

‘Urgh,’ she made a starfish across the bed, stretching out as much as she possibly could. Her muscles burned in a pleasant way, like she was stretching out a spring which had been boxed up for too long.

‘Did, um…’ Shane slowly moved deeper into the room, scratching at his head. ‘When you and Will got, um, married, did he carry you, you know, over the threshold?’

‘No.’ Amanda was staring up at the ceiling, at the faint cracks in the paint, enjoying the tingling sensation which was journeying through her body. It felt good to finally be resting. But it also felt good to have been running again. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed jogging through the woods.

‘No?’

She felt the bed sag as Shane sat down.

‘To carry me across the threshold would have been too… traditional. In some ways Will was a mega-traditional guy, but not others. And our wedding was small, modest. Why?’ She raised her head to look over at him.

‘I just wondered,’ Shane was staring at the blank screen of the television.

‘At the time,’ Amanda scrambled so that she was sitting up, ‘I figured he was just this low-key guy who didn’t want a fuss. Now I realise it was because it was all old news to him. He’d probably done the whole big wedding thing. I’m sure he carried Evangeline across the threshold of their little flat.’

‘Amanda, I—’

She reached for Shane’s arm, silencing his apology. ‘I’m joking. Will would never have wanted a big wedding no matter the context.’

‘Would you?’

‘Would I what?’

‘Want a big wedding?’

‘What do you think?’ Amanda scoffed and lay back down. The cracks in the ceiling were so faint, like relics from another time.

‘You always wanted to get married on the beach at dawn.’ Shane lay down next to her, his fingertips grazing against hers.

‘You remember?’ Amanda turned her head to face him.

‘Of course,’ he gave her a smile that was tinged with sadness. ‘You said that getting married at dawn felt more poignant than at sunset, since it was about the beginning of something, not the end.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Jayne wanted a big wedding.’ He rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.

‘She did?’ Amanda kept watching him.

‘She wanted a huge dress, a big venue, a horse and carriage.’

‘A horse and carriage? Wow. She had it all figured out then.’

‘Only I didn’t.’

‘Want the horse and carriage?’ Amanda asked teasingly. ‘I can’t say I blame you. They aren’t the speediest mode of transportation. I see you as more of a classic car man.’

‘I didn’t want to marry her,’ Shane admitted softly. ‘Not at any single point in our relationship did I want to marry her.’

‘But you would marry someone? One day? Right?’ Amanda was tired. The soft duvet was relaxing her tight muscles, caressing them and luring her to cross over the precipice into sleep.

‘I would, yes,’ Shane confirmed. He sounded far away, like Amanda was perhaps dreaming his response. ‘One day I want to get married on a beach. At dawn.’

*

‘Dammit, John, I’m just going to die, aren’t I?’ Amanda was getting frustrated. She continued to shake her dice, knowing that when they hit the table her fate would be decided.

‘Firstly, stop calling me John,’ he glowered at her, ‘from eight until midnight on a Wednesday I’m Dungeon Master, we’ve been over this. Secondly, you don’t necessarily have to die, Morgana the Wise. Think about it.’

Amanda thought. She was in a darkened corridor, unarmed. The magic she possessed could create a ball of fire and some lightning, but they were useless against a vampire as powerful as Declamore.

‘He’s getting closer,’ John said menacingly. ‘He’ll soon be upon you. What do you do?’

‘Christ, John, you’ve not even given her a chance,’ Shane protested.

‘You can smell his putrid breath, you hear the hiss as he extends his fangs, about to pounce—’

‘I’ll roll a six!’ Amanda was so excited she jumped up in her chair.

‘And, if you roll a six?’ John was pointing at her, wearing a crooked smile of approval.

‘He can turn me!’

‘Yes,’ John clapped his hands in triumph.

‘What? No!’ Shane intervened. ‘She can’t let him turn her.’

‘Why not?’ John asked blankly.

‘Yeah,’ Amanda agreed. ‘Why not?’

‘Because then,’ Shane pulled at the frayed edges of his sleeves, ‘she will be a vampire.’ He couldn’t meet his friends’ gazes. He looked down at the table, at the dungeon they were currently playing through.

‘So?’ John and Amanda demanded in unison.

‘If she’s a vampire, Morgana and Tarquin can’t continue onto Talbaton together. Once the sleeping curse lifts they were supposed to venture there together, to engage in the battle for the Golden Isles. But it’s a land permanently bathed in sun. So Morgana won’t be able to go.’

‘True,’ John stroked his chin. ‘But to roll a six and get turned by Declamore is her only chance of survival.’

‘If she doesn’t roll a six?’ Shane demanded.

‘Then he’ll devour her in the darkness and there will be no one to help lift your sleeping curse.’

‘Dammit,’ Shane pounded his fist against the table.

‘I have to throw a six,’ Amanda was whispering to the dice she was still clutching, rolling them between her palms.

‘And become a vampire?’ Shane stared at her, looking hurt. ‘What about Talbaton?’

‘Shane,’ Amanda heard John grumble in disapproval so she quickly corrected herself, ‘I mean, Tarquin, if my only chance of surviving is to become a vampire then that’s what I’ll have to do. That way I can still lift your sleeping curse.’

‘But what about our future?’

‘That’s the thing,’ John swept a hand above the table, gesturing to their game, ‘our fate is indeterminable. We cannot predict what lurks around each corner, what dwells in the depths of the shadows. All we can do is roll the dice and hope for the best.’

‘Let him kill you, we can start over,’ Shane was looking at her, pleading with her. ‘The best bit about the game is exploring places together. If you become a vampire we won’t be able to do that.’

‘Roll a six and you’ll be immortal,’ John countered, ‘and powerful enough to take on deeper, more dangerous dungeons.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ Shane threw up his hands in frustration. ‘Just roll the damn dice already. It’s almost midnight and my mum will be pissed if I’m late home again.’

Amanda shook the dice one final time and then released them from her grasp with a flourish, letting them roll across the table. Whatever she did next was going to seal her fate one way or another.