Keystone (Gatewalkers) (4 page)

“No worries,” Lallia said, still bubbling with her new Name. “We are close. I can feel it. We will find our hero here.”

The pixies skipped and fluttered their way down the hall, oohing over the sparkling lights and the high ceiling and the shiny floors. They searched faces, played with babies, tied knots in hair, and fished shiny coins out of the fountain, flinging them at passers by, laughing all the while.

***

“You look like you’ve been to Hades and back,” Eliza said the moment she saw Charlie. Eliza, on the other hand, looked annoyingly well rested, complete with freshly curled, bottle green locks that bounced around her shoulders. “Rough day?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, and left it at that. Rehashing the details would only wear her out further.

Eliza signed in and set to helping Charlie prep the latest sell-through displays for the new releases. Then a call came in from the general manager.

“I decided to have a look at how the cade was doing,” Snyder said sternly, “and I happened to notice ‘Charlotte Donahue’ logged in to one of the game displays. Now, I know it could not possibly be the Charlotte Donahue who works for me, because the Charlotte Donahue who works for me knows better than to sit around at one of the game consoles while she’s on duty. The same Charlotte Donahue understands that it is strictly against company policy to allow someone else, even family and friends, to use her employee login. The Charlotte Donahue who works for me also understands that to do so is a fireable offense if, say, someone like the general manager caught her doing it.”

Charlie’s heart plummeted into her gut, her list of bills flashing through her mind: student loans, rent, utilities, groceries. Landing her position as manager on duty at the cade had been a major windfall. If she lost her job, it would take months to find another, and finding anything that paid better than minimum wage would take even longer.

Granted, rent wasn’t as much as if she’d had her own place, but Evangeline couldn’t afford to have Charlie hanging around the house without contributing. Not with two young kids of her own.
 

Minimum wage would barely stretch to cover her student loans much less anything else. Having the loan company breathing down her neck wasn’t an experience Charlie wanted to have again.
 

“Yes, sir,” Charlie answered numbly. Beggars fresh out of college couldn’t be choosers.
 

Snyder clicked off.

“What was that all about?” Eliza said, leaning on the desk, her dark eyes wide. “Did he just threaten to fire you?”

Charlie reluctantly explained about the changed policy.

“Rough,” Eliza said sympathetically. “You want me to kick him off for you?”

Oh. Of course. Of course Snyder would be expecting her to log Mr. Patchett off her ID. ASAP.
 

Charlie’s heart sank further than it had when she considered having to tell Kendra. How could she tell Mr. Patchett he couldn’t play anymore? But she also did
not
want to lose her job, either. “No, I’ll do it myself.”
 

“Hey, Charlie?” piped up a small voice. Jared. Charlie had not even noticed him standing in front of the case of sell-through games. Waiting for his next turn in the VR rooms.

“Hm? What is it, Frodo?” Charlie said, trying to sound cheerful. She and Eliza had spoken in low voices, but….

“He can have my card,” Jared said, still in that small, reluctant voice.

Charlie’s eyes misted. She knew how much his gaming meant to him. On quieter days they had spent his waiting time chatting about the latest games, the best tactics, the coolest quests. “You sure, buddy? I mean, you understand it would be only a temporary solution just for today, right?”

Jared solemnly nodded. “Yeah, I get it.”

Charlie ruffled his magic sandy blond hair. “You are awesome, you know that?”

Jared grinned. “Yup.

***

The mall food court was a two-story confection of glass and steel. The various food kiosks ringed a central hub, facing outward, while rows of tables topped with fake granite occupied the second floor and outer hub. The buffeting din of mall goers’ voices rose and fell, trapped by the court’s glass turtle shell.

Charlie’s favorite corner felt like an afterthought, as if someone had taken a backward glance at the leftover nook where the glass dome met the mall’s cinderblock and drywall, then shoved in tables and chairs to make it useful. The little space seemed lost, as if it weren’t sure if it belonged to the food court or the mall. Sort of like how Charlie wasn’t sure where she belonged, sometimes.

From there she could look out through the dome’s triangular panes, past the low hedge pretending to be a garden, and watch the city going about its business. Skyscrapers connected by green and white skywalks rose against the watery blue sky. Below, in the busy street paralleling the mall, vents betrayed the underground mag rail system, bringing patrons to the station under the first floor. Mall goers could come, shop for a week, and leave without once setting foot outdoors.
 

Sometimes Charlie felt like jumping on the mag rail and following it until it ended, but in the end she wasn’t that brave.

Charlie plunked down her lunch tray and plopped into her usual chair. She’d opted for three-cheese pasta and a deli sandwich, washed down with the biggest soda she could lay hands on for her caffeine fix. Today she felt hungry enough that she almost tried the mystery meat at the Chinese food kiosk.

Breaking her fork out of its plastic with one hand, Charlie pulled out her pocket computer with the other and dialed up her older sister. By now, Evangeline should be back from dropping off her kids at Saturday science class. Sure enough, Eva answered after only a few moments.

Eva was three years Charlie’s senior, but growing up Eva had been more like a second mother. Smart, pretty, and now the mother of two great kids, Eva had a grounded maturity that Charlie felt herself lacking.

Charlie only planned to say a brief hello, but somehow Charlie's entire day with all of its frustrations and fears came pouring out. "I just don't know what to do, Eva. I feel terrible about the whole mess."

Eva pressed her lips into a thin line. Uh oh, here it came. "Charlie, if you disagree with the company's policies then why are you still there?"

"I'm terrible at job hunting. Besides, I really do like working with the kids; it's just the new policy -"

"And the policy before that. Didn't you say you felt they were being dishonest with their advertisement campaign?"

"All I said was they shouldn't be advertising the regular price as if the customer was getting some special one time deal," Charlie said defensively. "It's not like there's anything I could do about it."

"Quit.”

Charlie sighed. Usually she valued Eva's levelheaded advice, but quitting just wasn't in the realm of possibility. Even if she started searching for a new job, it took time that Charlie didn't have. The hours she worked didn't leave much left over. Besides, there was no such thing as the perfect job. Better to stick with what she had than to risk uncertainty because she didn’t like a policy.

“I’m still baby-sitting for you tonight, right?” Charlie said.

“Don’t think you can get away that easily, Charlotte Marie Donahue. I’m serious. You’ve been complaining about this job for months. You’re barely getting any sleep, and it’s eating you alive.”

Charlie flinched. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d been ranting. “Sorry, Eva, I really am. I don’t mean to put everything on you.”

“What else are big sisters for? Anyway, what about that design school you applied to? Shouldn’t you have gotten an answer by now?”

Charlie poked at her pasta. Suddenly she wasn’t so hungry anymore. “I didn’t get my paperwork done by the deadline,” she lied. It hadn’t been just a design school. It was game design. She’d gotten the notice in her email the week before.
Sorry, but we’re not interested.
Her grades weren’t competitive enough.

Eva sighed. Charlie let her eyes wander around the food court so she didn’t have to see Eva’s disappointment.

“I don’t understand,” Eva said. “When we were kids, if you set your mind to do something, you latched into it with a will and didn’t let anything stop you. No matter how much trouble you got into. Where’s that tenacious little girl? There are more schools out there!”

Sure there were more schools. None of them would have her.

That was the moment her colossal soda upended over her pasta.

***

Lallia shrieked as sticky brown fluid drenched her. “Ooooooh, I’ll get you for that, Tom!”

Tom darted away, howling in laughter as Lallia pursued, shaking off syrupy droplets. She chased him around the table three times before leaping up onto the plate and snatching up the plastic miniature sabre stuck through the sandwich. Lallia Changed the sabre to pink and struck a pose, brandishing the blade. “En guarde!”

Tom Made a green sabre of his own. “Touché!” he cried, matching her pose.

The two of them attacked and countered, their little blades clicking as they struck. Sticky fairy footprints tracked across the table. Lallia landed a strike across Tom’s forearm.

“I got you!” she cried. “I cut off your arm!”

“It’s only a flesh wound!” Tom roared and sprang at her again.

Tom backed Lallia to the brink of the table and lunged with a triumphant cry. Lallia hopped backward to hover midair.

“Not fair!” Tom said. “Just like a girl!”

Lallia huffed. “I can defeat you even without flying.” She settled back onto the table and held up her sword in a “guard” position.

A sly look crossed Tom’s face. He charged, but as Lallia moved to counter he vanished and reappeared behind her, poking the point of his sword at her backside. She squealed and whirled, glaring at him.

“Hahaa! I win!” he gloated.

“No, you don’t!” Lallia dove at him, and the sword work resumed with renewed vigor. Tom started teleporting all around Lallia, but she was on to him and anticipated his attacks.

Lallia dove behind the upended glass, preventing him from trying to flank her. She stuck her sword through her belt loop, preparing to throw soggy pasta at him, but a flurry of white napkins blanketed the table, cutting off everything in sight.
 

Lallia fought her way free of the napkins just as the human mopping up the table said, “Gotta go, Eva. I have a party of dragon slayers coming. It’s going to be chaos.”

Lallia shot into the air, studying the human with intrigue. She was pretty, as far as humans went, about the right height, and a good build. Lallia loved her hair color.

A huff came from the small magic mirror in the human’s hand. “If you had devoted yourself to studying as much as you did to your archery and your dragon slaying or whatever it was, then you might have gotten more scholarships.”

“Tom!” Lallia cried. Could she be the hero they needed?

“A dragon slayer,” Tom repeated. He quickly put up a cautioning hand. “A dragon slayer may not be what we want.”

Lallia put out her tiny pink tongue. “We will keep searching then.” Her purple eyes still lingered on the magenta haired human woman, considering the possibilities. Lallia had not told Tom – though it broke her heart not to, she had made a promise – but she wasn’t searching for just any sort of hero. Any hero could be strong and brave and fight dragons. Seinne Sonne needed someone different. Someone special. “But she might just be perfect. Follow her!”

***

“The training grounds!” Lallia said triumphantly, pointing her pink sabre at the entrance, bedecked with images of dragons, castles, humans in strange uniforms, and twisted, unnamable creatures. It could be nothing else, especially as it seemed that most of the humans within were of an age to be apprentices or journeymen.

The pixie pair passed under the outspread wings of the dragon guarding the entrance and burst into fits of giggles. The strange light on the interior caused both of them to glow in bright, shifting colors.

They caroomed around the room – which was unlike any training chamber they had ever seen – and searched the faces of every human within. Some sat before magic mirrors, engaged in solving puzzles and hand-eye coordination exercises. Others stood in knots, strategizing over “raids” and “parties,” much like the boys on the bus. The pixies observed and listened, and one by one eliminated each youngling in turn. None of them was the hero they sought.

It did not escape Lallia’s notice that of the training ground’s two keepers, it was the magenta-haired woman who the younglings went to for advice.
 

They also noticed that the keepers called the bands of younglings to walk down the hall at the back of the room. These disappeared through the doorways there, and did not return.

“They must be receiving more advanced training,” Tom said.
 

“The talismans must be woven with gate spells,” Lallia decided, seeing how the keepers carried crystals as they led each group to the doors along the hall.
 

Tom nodded in agreement. “A very clever arrangement. It must be like the gates in Iomara, so that any portion of the kingdom may be reached quickly.”

“I like this world,” Lallia decided. “It is full of adventure. I told you we would find our hero here.” She pointed down at the magenta-haired human woman.

“Her?” Tom said doubtfully.

“Her,” Lallia affirmed. “She is the one.”

Lallia fluttered down to settle lightly on the woman’s shoulder, and began whispering a suggestion into her ear, weaving a subtle thread of magic.

***

An Age of Destiny “war party” came trooping out of one of the multi-player rooms, chattering animatedly about their next foray into the Dread Dungeons of Doom.
 

Charlie checked the waiting list and called up the next party. While the giggling, chattering teenagers assembled, Charlie paused to work a crick out of her neck. Twenty minutes left. Only twenty to go, and this day was
done
.

This new group wanted to play Nightfall, a dark urban fantasy in which mob-like vampires ran the underworld. Nothing like a bunch of teenagers pretending to be power-mongering bloodsuckers. If there was anything she disliked more than a Mature rated game in the hands of an underage kid, it was vampires.