Game Play (13 page)

Bryl wiped sweat
off his forehead. His knuckles whitened as he strained to keep his wall of
flames up.

"Looks like we
don't have to wait any more." Delrael shifted his grip on the sword.

An Anted thrust its
head and forelimbs through the rippling wall of fire. Its antennae burned,
smoking and writhing. The Anted collapsed with a moan like bending metal as its
insides cooked within the black armor. Delrael heard popping and sizzling; a
sour stench steamed up from cracks in the insect's shell.

Another Anted came
forward, sacrificing itself next to the first. It tumbled, legs curled into the
air. A third Anted died, completing a bridge across the fire.

Bryl squeezed the
Fire Stone, trying to push the fire up through the insect bodies, but his spell
faded. Bryl fell to his knees, exhausted, curling his lip to keep the fire
burning. The flame died away, leaving only black and smoking rocks. He blinked,
disoriented for a second, and hung his head. Other Anteds clambered over their
fallen comrades.

Vailret turned
around, squinting in the smoke and stench, trying to appear threatening with
his short sword. Journeyman punched his fist into the palm of his other hand
with a loud smacking sound. Delrael touched his sword hilt, ready to die
fighting. "Luck," he said to all of them.

The part-human
character rode on the back of one Anted where he could survey the attack. The
rider appeared to have been a human once, but was now stunted and twisted. His
hair had fallen out in patches, and his eyes bulged wide and unblinking. His
skin was pasty pale, as if he had been isolated from sunlight for years
―
but it also had an oily gleam when the light struck it at a certain angle. He
wore plates of black chitin, broken shells from the Anteds, on his back and
sides. The chitin looked as if it had grown in, rather than just tied on.

The part-human
figure gestured in the air, showing fingers that had fused together. The nails
had become solid and grown down over his knuckles in a hooked claw that
resembled those of the Anteds.

"Wait!"
Vailret called. "What do you want?"

The part-human creature
rode his Anted through the other insects, emerging at the front. He cocked his
head to look at them. He sniffed the air.

His saucer-like
eyes did not blink. The other Anteds pressed close beside him, gaping open
their sharp jaws.

"Maybe we'd
better not fight," Vailret whispered. He gestured for them to lower their
weapons. "Just surrender for now."

Delrael remembered
the role-playing game his father and Bryl had put him through on his eleventh
birthday, making him imagine he had been taken captive by a tribe of vicious
worm-men. Vailret had a similar role-playing adventure about being captured by
the cruel reptilian Slac. "Are you sure you want to be taken alive?"

Vailret looked at
him, and Delrael knew what he was thinking. Neither of them had survived their
imaginary captivity in the vivid role-playing game.

"Looks like
we're out of luck otherwise." Tallin rubbed his fingers at the point of
his beard. "I wish I was back in the forest terrain. The ylvan were
boring, but safe."

"I'd rather
stay alive, if it's all the same to you," Bryl said.

Vailret called out
again to the part-human creature. "We won't resist."

He sheathed his
short sword, and motioned for Delrael to do the same. Tallin put his crossbow
back on his shoulder.

Delrael stood
motionless, uneasy. His empty hand fidgeted around the hilt of his sword. He
shuffled his feet in the dust. He didn't like this at all.

"Take us to
your leader," Journeyman said.

The part-human
creature made a chuffing, chirping sound from the bottom of his throat. The
circle of Anteds grew tighter until one opened its deadly mandibles around
Bryl's waist. The half-Sorcerer fainted, slithering down into the grip of the
ebony jaws. The Anted lifted Bryl's limp form into the air, then marched toward
one of the tunnel openings.

Four more insects
came forward for the rest of them. The Anteds stopped chirping.

Delrael ground his
teeth together, so tense that he felt as if his muscles would snap. He wanted
to lash out, to fight to the death
―
but his feet dangled
uselessly below him when the Anted picked him up. He felt the insect's sharp
mandibles even through his leather armor.

The jaws made
gouges in the soft clay of the golem's skin, but Journeyman kept nudging the
clay back into place.

The part-human
dismounted looked at the dead Anted hulk buried near where they stood. With
both hands he lifted up the shell of the insect's head and, with a snap of his
arms, he twisted it off the main body. With his hardened knuckles, he rapped on
the chitin. The exoskeleton rang hollow, and dried threadlike debris tumbled to
the ground. Satisfied, he tucked the empty head under his arm like a trophy and
scrambled back onto his mount.

The other Anteds
moved forward and descended into one of the openings.

The tunnels slanted
downward, twisting deep beneath the surface.

Delrael wondered
how far they could go before they struck the bottom of the map. The far walls
of the tunnel flooded past into murk before and behind him.

The air held a
thick musty odor of dust and claustrophobia. The walls were made of fused,
gritty sand.

After his eyes
became accustomed, Delrael realized the catacombs were not totally dark.
Patches of fungus had been smeared on corners and near the curved ceilings, and
these glowed with a faint green, barely enough to see by.

The ants covered a
great distance in the tangled tunnels before climbing upward again. Delrael was
sore and anxious to know what they would find at the end of the journey. The
other companions did not speak.

The part-human
creature dismounted and scampered ahead, at home in the tunnels. The insects
began chirping to each other in a strange chant. The part-human made a loud
imitation of the chirps himself, then used his hooked claw-hands to tear at his
sides and under his arms. Lines of dried blood marked previous injuries on the
stiff skin.

The Anteds carried
them into a large sunlit grotto chiseled out of the cementlike walls. Delrael
knew before he could blink the bright light out of his eyes that they had entered
the queen's chamber. It was what he expected.

"And now for a
word from our sponsor," Journeyman said.

The Anteds released
their captives. Delrael staggered on numb legs and tingling feet. He rubbed his
pinched sides to restore feeling. Journeyman smoothed the gouge marks from his
clay torso.

A huge Anted spoke
from an odd dais carved out of polished gray stone.

"Consort, what
have you brought your queen?" Her reedy voice was clicking and cumbersome.

The Anted queen's
body was glossy black, but her head was polished liquid-smooth, completely
without the many-faceted eyes of the other insects.

Her mandibles were
smaller, atrophied. Two thin, cellophane wings curled down beside her in a
clear amber cloak.

Delrael scanned the
throne room, automatically checking options for escape. Out of the corner of
his eye, he watched Tallin do the same. He felt a rapport with the tough little
ylvan.

In the streaming
light from the wide opening overhead, many tunnels branched off from the other
walls. Dust motes gleamed as they fell through the sunlight toward the floor.

The part-human
creature set down the empty Anted head he had been carrying and crept forward.
His lower jaw jutted out, and his words had a garbled whistling quality.
"Ryx, Ryx, Ryx..."

"Are these to
be alternative choices for me, Consort?" The queen ant spoke to the
part-human creature. "Is that why you brought them?"

"No!" The
consort-creature scrabbled forward in fear and awe, but eager. He walked on his
hands and legs in a bucking, hunchbacked gait that looked oddly natural for
him. Delrael saw wide lumpy ridges along his ribcage, as if another folded set
of limbs had begun to grow there.

Consort cooed and
made his weird chirping noise as he crawled up to Ryx's feet. He ran his clawed
fingers over her limbs, straightening the bristle hairs on her forelimbs. He
nuzzled up, rubbing his hands along her abdomen, stroking her golden wings.

Ryx tilted her
eyeless head back. Her small mandibles opened and closed. She emitted a high
keening sound.

Consort pushed his
face against her chitin plates, leaving a wet streak from his thick, damp
tongue. "Ryx ... Ryx ... Ryx..." he said. His claws scraped on her
exoskeleton, then reached between her mandibles with loving gentleness. He
probed her mouth parts.

"I can't give
you much more to eat," the queen said, "You will transform too
quickly. I don't want to risk that. You are my consort
―
I don't
want anything to go wrong."

"More, Ryx ...
more. Hungry." Consort snuffled and whined.

"Just a
sip." She reached out with her forelimbs to stroke the plates implanted in
his back and the tattered shreds of hair on his head.

A whitish-gold
syrup oozed from a channel in the inside of her mouth.

Consort jerked
forward, lapping it up. He thrust his head deep into the gap between her
mandibles, humming and sighing.

Delrael watched in
disgust. Bryl turned his head. The other Anteds stood guard around them,
motionless.

"Enough!"
Ryx pushed the part-human creature away. Rebuffed, Consort hunkered down in
front of her. His clawed hands swayed loosely. "That is your reward. What
have you brought me?"

Delrael realized
Ryx had her head cocked off to the side, as if seeing through other eyes.
Consort stared up at the huge queen ant in admiration, then tilted his head
sideways to stare at the travelers with his bulging dry eyes.

"Five
characters. Questers. One small, one old, one strong, one medium, and..."
He looked long at Journeyman, "And one made of mud."

Consort stood up as
straight as he could, swaying his hooked hands around his kneecaps, then turned
to face the motionless queen again. He stiffened, and Ryx's feelers vibrated
with intense speed.

Ryx raised her head
and continued in her humming voice. "A typical adventuring party. What is
your quest?" Her polished head turned toward the wall behind the
travelers.

Delrael fumbled in
his mind, searching for a viable excuse, but his mind went blank.

Tallin's response
was quicker. "We're just mercenaries. When the Game slowed down, this
blasted peace put us out of work! We heard stories about a battle brewing in
the east, and we're making our way there. Any problems with that?"

Ryx tilted her head
toward the ylvan's voice for a long moment. Tallin stood defiant next to
Delrael. Journeyman looked flat and emotionless; Vailret bit his lip; Bryl
scrambled up from his daze on the floor, looking around in fear. The queen of
the Anteds shifted her blank head toward the half-Sorcerer.

"You are no
mercenaries. That one's afraid of his own reflection."

Ryx vibrated her
antennae again with a thin humming sound. The noise bounced around the walls of
the grotto. Delrael felt a strange finger poking at the inside of his mind,
ferreting out his private memories. Tallin touched his hands to his forehead.

Ryx squatted back
on her polished dais. Delrael didn't know how to read any emotion on her face,
but her voice hinted at laughter. "You intend to destroy Scartaris?
Five
of you think you can defeat his armies and defenses?"

Delrael flushed in
anger. "I didn't say that!"

"Not only
that, but the Earthspirits are hiding in your belt, and you intend to take them
secretly to Scartaris, where the Spirits will be unleashed to battle him."

Delrael clamped his
mouth shut. Bryl let out a quiet moan of despair.

Journeyman gawked
in shock at Delrael, the silver belt, then the queen Anted.

"Scartaris
will reward me for this," Ryx said, tapping her forelegs together.
"Consort, remove the belt."

Delrael drew his
sword and crouched, looking from side to side and daring the Anteds to come
closer. He stepped away from the consort-creature.

The lights grew dim
around him as he focused his attention on the sword, on any enemy that might
come.

"Try it, Ryx!
We'll cause more damage than your Anteds have ever seen."

Following Delrael's
lead, Journeyman drew himself up, ready to fight.

Vailret and Tallin
both pulled out their weapons, and Bryl held the Fire Stone. Nobody looked
eager for battle. Three Anteds came forward, clacking their jaws, but
hesitating. The air around them crackled with tension.

The queen lifted
her featureless head. "Stop! Consort, you stay away from those weapons.
Take them all down to the fungus chambers and hold them there. I need to decide
what to do with them."