Gameplay (3 page)

The most important anchor in all her turmoil was the friendship of Delrael and Vailret. They poured so much attention upon her that she felt special again, as when her father Sardun cared for her. Delrael reminded her of the monumental heroes in the old legends of the Game, adventurous, sure of himself, brave and strong. Vailret had all the intelligence and background of a respected scholar—he could talk intensely about many subjects, but he was often self-conscious around her. She sighed and forced a smile.

The open fire on the hearth heated another cauldron of water in case Tareah needed her bath warmed again. The hissing and snapping of the flames soothed her, eased her into a doze. She drifted. She let her eyes sink closed as she smelled the water, the damp wood.

A sharp pain snapped inside her head. Tareah became dislocated, floating, with nothing to hold onto. She felt the Sorcerer blood within her—she knew what it could do, but all at once it didn’t seem strong enough. Tareah blinked her eyes again and stared at the fire. The flames throbbed, running together like melted wax. She grew dizzy. She seemed disembodied.

Without knowing what she was doing, Tareah slipped under the water of her bath.

She opened her eyes, but through the bath water she saw clear images. She didn’t need to breathe, didn’t even think of it. She felt no alarm at all. The water she smelled and saw was not from inside her bath.…but from the Barrier River. She felt a swaying raft beneath her feet. She saw giant, shadowy shapes, hooded figures, heard booming voices.

A man with wild dark hair and black beard stood on the raft. Like an invisible observer, Tareah felt the anger in his heart, the alien fury that controlled him from far away.

Her Sorcerer blood recognized that this was Enrod, the Sentinel from Tairé.

She heard the Deathspirits pronounce judgment on Enrod, she learned what he had been about to do to the land. In horror she stared at him, but she could feel no sympathy when the Deathspirits stripped him of the Fire Stone.

In her head, she heard the words ringing out, spoken to
her
:

“The Fire Stone was meant to assist the characters of the Game. As the last full Sorcerer character, you must now receive the Stone. We trust no one else with the decision. Take it and win the Game. Or lose. We have done our part. We care no longer.”

Then the vision left her completely.

As she blinked, Tareah found she was under water, in her own bath, cramped and unable to breathe. She pushed her head up above the surface, sputtering and spraying water from her mouth. She blinked her eyes. Thick brown hair streamed wet down her neck.

Her eyes focused, and she saw something different about the fireplace. The flames curled against the split logs like yellow tatters. Wisps of steam danced up from the surface of the cauldron of heating water. Smoke rose into the chimney, but left the room filled with the smell of burning wood.

Gleaming at the foot of the hearth, among the orange coals, lay the brilliant eight-sided ruby. The Fire Stone, red and pulsing with magic.

* * *

The musty dampness of the stonecutter’s caves filled Delrael’s nostrils. The torches and lanterns they carried flickered in the drafts of sluggish air, throwing light against the hewn rock walls. The smoke mixed with the heavy smell of stone dust and earth.

Delrael crossed his arms over his leather jerkin, looking at the dim chamber. He brushed dirt off his pants. Vailret followed him in, found a rock outcropping to sit on, and lounged against the wall. He looked thin and gaunt in the uncertain light; but his eyes were bright and intense.

Bryl the old half-Sorcerer sat by himself, glancing around as if frightened by the shadows, the oppressive weight of rock around them. Tareah waited next to Vailret.

In the silent hours before dawn, no one knew they had gone to the caves. They had much to discuss, in private, away from the villagers and—they hoped—away from the prying eyes of the Outsiders.

Vailret coughed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “We’ve got half a hilltop of rock over our heads to shield us. Maybe the Outsiders won’t be able to hear us here.”

Bryl cringed at Vailret’s mention of the weight of the rock. Delrael looked at the low ceiling and nodded, but he kept his voice quiet anyway. “The Outsiders must not know anything about this. It’s something we have to decide.”

He didn’t know where to begin. He had already told them in a brief whisper about the Earthspirits. At the same time, Tareah had burst out of the bath chamber, wrapped in a blanket but dripping onto the wooden floor. Wide-eyed, she held the glowing ruby Fire Stone in her hand.…

“The Earthspirits promised to help us destroy Scartaris,” Delrael said. “We might have a good chance now, especially if Tareah has the Fire and Water Stones, and Bryl has the Air Stone.”

Bryl fondled the Air Stone, the four-sided diamond that created illusions. Gairoth the ogre had used it to overthrow the Stronghold by making the other characters believe he commanded an indestructible army of other ogres.

Tareah fumbled at her waist to undo the lashings of a small cloth purse. She drew out the sapphire Water Stone, shaped like a cubical six-sided die. For centuries it had been held by Tareah’s father, Sardun the Sentinel. At Vailret’s urging, Sardun had used the Water Stone to create the Barrier River; now, after Sardun’s death, Tareah took the Water Stone herself. She held it next to her new Fire Stone, blue fire in one hand, red fire in the other.

Delrael smiled. “Scartaris is still there, and the Outsider David still wants to destroy us—but we can fight back now. This is our Game, too!”

Vailret rubbed a finger along his lower lip. “We’ve got to be careful about this, though.”

Delrael grimaced—he hated to hear his cousin say that.

“Scartaris must know we’re trying to stop him. It’s rather hard to hide something like the Barrier River, you know. And when we confronted the Outsiders in that deserted Slac fortress, we learned all about each other’s intentions.”

Bryl and Tareah muttered, and Delrael fidgeted in impatience. But Vailret looked at them. “We should assume that the Outsider David is already sending something to kill us, a monster or two. If he wants to end the Game so much, he won’t take any chances. He’ll come to get us directly—and the longer we sit here, the easier a target we make.”

“Not unless he thinks it might liven up the Game,” Delrael said. “Remember what we’re here for. Rule #1—always have fun.”

Vailret snorted. Bryl squirmed, nervous and trying to avoid the issue. Tareah put hands on her hips in an awkward, unsure gesture. “Well, what are we going to do?” she said.

“First and most important, we have to make sure the Outsiders don’t learn about the Earthspirits and their involvement,” Delrael said immediately. “That could be our loaded dice.” He touched his silver belt, but he felt nothing unusual. “I have to carry them to Scartaris—but we need to make it look like we’re just going on a quest to find out more about our enemy.”

“
We?
” Bryl said. “Who all is going on this quest? We just got back from one!”

Delrael frowned at him. “We’re supposed to enjoy going on quests, Bryl. That’s what we were all created for. It’s just a game.”

“This just might take the Outsiders by surprise.” Vailret smiled. “That’ll teach them to leave loopholes in the Rules!”

“So are the four of us going on this quest?” Tareah asked. Her voice carried an impatience for banter. She had been brought up studying the famous historical quests of the Game. Delrael knew she considered it to be very serious stuff, nothing to be made light of.

“I have to go,” Delrael said, running his fingers along the silver belt, “since I’m carrying the Earthspirits. And Vailret, because you can think fast, and you
know
things we wouldn’t even consider. That might help. I’d like you to come too, Bryl, so we can use your Sorcerer magic.”

Delrael lowered his voice. “I want you to stay here.” He touched her shoulders, then slid his palms down to hold her arms, hooking his thumbs on the insides of her elbows.

She bristled. “Stay here? But I owe it to Gamearth to fight as much as you! Now that Enrod’s gone, I’m the last full-blooded Sorcerer on the map. I have to come with you!”

Delrael held up one hand to stop her. “Tareah, you’ve been at the Ice Palace all your life—you never gained any experience. Questing isn’t something you learn offhand. It would be too dangerous to you,
and to us
, to have an inexperienced character in the party. You know the Rules, you know the probabilities.”

Tareah was angry with him. He’d thought about this so much, but when he explained it to her it seemed a weak and simple excuse. He wasn’t good at explaining things. But when Tryos the dragon had kidnapped her, Tareah sat around waiting to be rescued because that’s what she
thought
she was supposed to do. He didn’t want to count on someone who would play according to what she remembered of distorted legends and cut-and-dried interpretations of the Rules.

He sighed and softened his voice. “Look, I’m not just being over-protective. I need someone powerful to stay and guard the Stronghold while we’re gone. Vailret just said it—there’s no telling what Scartaris might send here. I want somebody at the Stronghold who can fight back. You have the Water Stone and the Fire Stone—you might need them. The characters in the village might need you.”

Tareah still said nothing to Delrael.

“I’m going to speak to Tarne, too—he’s a fighter, an old veteran from the days when my father ran the Stronghold. He kept the characters safe when Gairoth took over. I think the two of you can stand against anything Scartaris has.”

Tareah seemed to be considering what Delrael said; finally, she nodded. “You’re right. That goes along with the other adventures I’ve studied. I’ll stay here.”

Tareah clicked the two gems together in the palm of her hand. “But it doesn’t seem practical for me to have
two
Stones, if I’m just sitting behind a wall all day long.”

She held out the eight-sided ruby to Bryl. The ruby glowed like a blazing coal. “Take the Fire Stone with you. The Deathspirits told me I should do with it as I see fit. The Water Stone was my father’s. The Fire Stone … I don’t feel comfortable with it, not after I know what Enrod was going to do. Not after the anger I felt in his mind.”

Bryl reached out his hands in amazement and took the gem. He stared with twinkling eyes and awe written on his face. “I don’t really want to go on another quest,” he said, “But now I feel a lot safer.”

“None of us is going to be safe,” Vailret said. “Not until this is all over.”

***

Interlude: Outside

Melanie arrived at Tyrone’s house for the Sunday gaming session. Standing on the doorstep, she watched a trail of her breath rise into the damp air. She tucked the heavy map of Gamearth wrapped in an old blanket under her arm. It had begun to drizzle outside, and she did not want the wood or the paint to get wet.

Melanie was surprised to find herself the last one to show up. Normally David came late just to annoy them, but this time he appeared anxious, as if he knew exactly what he wanted to do. That worried her.

David’s eyes were bloodshot and he looked tired—Melanie wondered if he had been sleeping well, or if he had been plagued by nightmares.

She greeted everyone as Tyrone returned from the refrigerator carrying a round of sourdough bread. The bread’s center had been hollowed out and filled with a white and green coagulated mass.

“Leek, spinach, and feta cheese dip,” Tyrone said.

Scott frowned at the loaf and straightened his glasses. “I thought you were kidding when you told us that.”

Tyrone set down a plate of bread chunks he had cut from the middle of the loaf. “It’s good—try it. Have I ever let you down?”

“Yes,” Melanie and Scott said in unison.

“Oh, just try it.”

David sounded gloomy when he spoke. “Are you
sure
we want to keep playing?” Melanie caught an undercurrent of hesitation in his voice. She didn’t even feel like speaking to him. He made her frightened and angry at the same time.

She uncovered the map, draping the damp blanket on a chair. The blue line of the Barrier River stood out like a scar, reminding them what had happened the week before.

“What’s going to happen this week?” he asked. “Are you sure you’re not afraid?”

“I’m not afraid,” Melanie said.

Scott could barely keep his eyes off the blue line that had appeared by itself the week before. “I’m not afraid really, either.” He frowned. “But I’m very curious to see if anything else happens.”

“We pretty much finished up Mel’s adventure last week, with the dragon being killed and all,” Tyrone said. “What are we going to start with?”

“There’s more to the adventure than that,” David said.

“A lot more.” Melanie realized she had snapped at him.

“Come on, guys. Make nice.” Scott kept his voice down, then caught himself.

“I’m going to send my characters on a quest to the east,” Melanie said. “Delrael, Vailret, and Bryl—the usual bunch.”

“For what? What are they going to do?” David asked.

“They have to find out about that Scartaris monster you sent against them. No better way than to go there themselves.”

“I’ll squash them. I’ve got so much to put in their way.”

Melanie stiffened. “Yes, but you can’t know they’re coming unless one of
your
characters encounters them. By the rules. Just because you know what’s going on yourself, David, doesn’t mean your characters will know.”

She tapped her fingers together. “And speaking of that, I want to introduce a new character tonight. It’s a golem.” She looked at the map, but in the bright light over the kitchen table she could not tell which hexagon she had repainted. “I’m going to have him encounter my characters in Tyrone’s section.”

“You can’t just do that!” David stood up.

“Why not? She hasn’t introduced anybody new in a long time.” Tyrone took a sip of his soda. “And we’ve never played a golem character before.”

“I rolled all the details already. Here’s a printout of his statistics.” Melanie passed around a sheet of paper with numbers jotted down in columns. “His name is going to be Journeyman.”

“You should do that when we’re around.” David frowned at the paper, the numbers.

Melanie made a disgusted sound. “Come on, David. I’m just saving us time. You think I’m trying to cheat or something? Look at the scores.”

“I think a golem would be neat,” Tyrone said.

Apparently seeing he wouldn’t win any arguments on the subject, David shrugged. “Doesn’t matter you know. Not against Scartaris.”

“It might,” Melanie said with a slight smile and looked at the map in the light, tracing the line of the Barrier River, the sections of terrain between her characters and David’s ruined portion of Gamearth. She hoped her plan would work.

She distributed new printouts of the log sheets. She kept track of every week’s game in her father’s computer. Over the years she had compiled a three-ring binder, a book-length journal of all their games and adventures.

They glanced at the new pages and shuffled them aside, except Scott stopped, picked up his copy, and stared down at it. “Hey, when did that happen, Mel?”

“What?”

David blinked at his printout and turned pale. He pressed his jaws together.

Tyrone looked at Melanie’s copy as he reached for his dip. “This says that Bryl’s got the Fire Stone. And what’s this? ‘Enrod came to destroy the land with the Fire Stone. He tried to cross the Barrier River on a raft and was stopped by the return of the Deathspirits, who cursed him to journey back and forth across the River forever. They presented his Fire Stone to Tareah, who gave it to Bryl in his quest.’ Interesting, Mel, but … well, shouldn’t we have
played
it?”

Everyone looked at Melanie. She blinked her eyes, baffled. “But … this isn’t something I wrote up at all.”

Scott made his mouth a straight line. “Nobody else has access to your Dad’s computer, Melanie.”

David sighed and put both elbows on the table. He looked pale and afraid. “Of course it happened that way! You know it’s right.” He stared at them, then shook his head. “Didn’t you guys
dream
it? It was so vivid I woke up sweating.

“I could see Enrod. I could hear what he was thinking about blasting all the trees around the Stronghold, and building his raft and crossing the River.” Sweat appeared on his forehead; he brushed it away in impatience. “And those big black hooded things coming up and yelling doom and gloom at him and taking away the Fire Stone. You had to dream the same thing.”

“I don’t remember my dreams,” Scott said.

Tyrone scratched his cheek below his ear. “You know, now that you mention it, I do remember something like that. And it was weird because it wasn’t
me
in the dream. Yeah, I remember it now.”

Melanie recalled the dream too, like a vivid slap in the face. “There’s more going on here than I thought.” She felt a perplexed hope, but she didn’t know what to do with it. “If the Deathspirits came back, what about the Earthspirits?”

Scott pursed his lips. Melanie watched him; he became very uncomfortable when he didn’t know how to explain things. “Wait a minute—I thought we decided not to play the Spirits. They were gone for good because they were too much for us to handle.”

“The game is starting to play itself,” David insisted. “It’s coming alive. It’s out of control.
This
is reality—” he slapped a palm on the tabletop. Their glasses of soda and the dice jingled on the table.

“We have to stop it!” The urgency in his voice was frightening. “Let’s all agree, all right?” David’s eyes pleaded with them. “We can try a trivia game or something if you still want to keep meeting on Sunday nights. Let’s just stop
this
game.”

Melanie swallowed hard and drew herself up. In annoyance, she flicked her hair behind her ear.

“If it’s truly coming alive, David, then it’s a wonderful, magical thing. Something here is greater than we ever dreamed of. We have no right to kill it.”

She snatched the dice on the table. “Let’s get started.”

***