The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) (25 page)

"It is."

Wearily I rubbed my forehead and looked up at him. "I need some time to think."

With a heavy sigh he slumped against the back of his seat. "Please do. You have a week. There're a few things you need to consider though."

"Which are?"

"I doubt the bank will give you the sum you need. We can give you more. In either case, you'll have to pay it back."

"Of course. I'm quite prepared to work for it."

He curved his mouth in a grin. "We know. As long as you understand that if you refuse our offer, you might find it extremely hard to find another employment."

* * *

Our parting was rather subdued. The representative paid for the coffee and left the tavern. I sat there for a while, staring out the window.

My mind was racing, thoughts fluttering around like moths trapped in a glass jar.

Had I done the right thing? I really didn't know. Honestly, I was at a loss. I used to wonder when and how it might happen, and now it had. Meeting the Steel Shirts head hunter had left a bad taste in my mouth but apart from that, their conditions were very acceptable. More than acceptable even. They had lots of upsides, all of which he'd laid in front of me. True, I was already getting used to my new life in the Citadel but admittedly this place was one of the game's most dangerous locations. Especially for someone like myself. How many times had I wished I could simply log in, do my quota in the mine and log out straight away? Oh, no. There I go again. I just missed my girls so much.

What was there to think of? The game's most powerful clan had just offered me a job. Wasn't it exactly what I'd been looking for? Why did I have a bad feeling about it, then?

Never mind. Time to grab some fresh air. Tanor could say all he wanted but I fully intended to see my plan through. Whether it would tank or succeed, only the bank could tell.

The Citadel streets bustled relentlessly as usual. The weather seemed to have picked up. No, don't get me wrong, it was drizzly as usual but, as Citadel old-timers would say, "This is nothing like yesterday's downpour".

On Tronus' suggestion, I made my entire achievement list private — both the good and the "undesirable" properties. Once I'd done that, NPC passersby stopped paying any attention to me altogether.

Amazing what a difference my little medals used to make. The change in the NPCs' behavior was tangible. Before, they were all smiles, winks and cheers. Now they were stone cold with me. That's the power of habit for you. Before, I used to take it all for granted, and now...

My memory promptly offered a few snippets of past days. A black-bearded dwarf player, watching thoughtfully as I chatted with an old lady NPC baker. A female archer player, staring in surprise at NPC guards giving me friendly slaps on the back.

Similar moments were legion, only I'd long stopped paying attention to them. Now that it was gone, I was beginning to understand why I never considered the Citadel as gloomy as others pictured it. That's human nature for you. To appreciate something, we need to lose it first.

I decided to give it a check. There was a greengrocer's within walking distance, just opposite Tronus' tower, where I used to buy the occasional fruit and veg to restore my Energy down the mine. Stephen, its owner, and myself had often chatted about things like the weather and the latest Citadel news. Not that what he said ever had any informational value. But for me conversations like those were like a breath of fresh air.

Interestingly, you didn't often have these kinds of relaxed chats with other players. Gamers had a very limited conversation spectrum: they mainly discussed loot, buying and selling, locating certain items, that sort of thing. Now I could better understand Weigner who liked to shoot the breeze. Such hunger for company was typical of players in extended immersion.

When I was only a few paces away from the greengrocer's display of fruit and veg, I heard a short whistle coming from my right. I turned to the sound. A squat figure hovered in the dark narrow lane. Had it not been for my Ennan eyesight, I'd never have noticed.

The stranger motioned with his hand, inviting me to approach.

How strange. I cast a look around, just in case. A dozen feet to my left, two guards were busy discussing something. To my right, a group of three NPC builders were having a smoke break on a bench.

I cast another glance into the darkness. The squat stranger gestured to me again. Interesting. I might venture a little closer and find out. Doubtful that anything bad would happen: only an idiot would attack a Grinder in the heart of the Citadel. This was one of the unwritten rules.

I took a few steps toward the edge of light and darkness. The stranger kept motioning. I thought he'd even brought a finger to his lips, signaling for me to keep quiet.

How weird. What kind of spy game was this?

Judging by his silhouette, he was either a Dwand or a puny dwarf. No: a Dwand, rather.

"I'm not coming any closer," I said firmly. "If you need me, I'll be waiting for you here."

The stranger didn't say anything. He didn't even move. Instead, my chat window blinked.

A character called Max would like to start a private conversation with you.

Accept: Yes/No

I pressed
Yes
. What would he want with me? Let's see.

With every word I read, I could feel the corners of my lips stretch into a smile.

Hi Olgerd,

This is Max. Do you remember me? Dad's sending his regards. He wants to see you. He says it's urgent.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A
lgar was a one-horse town like any other. Had it not been for the Gothic spire of the town hall, the portal station, the bank and a few more institutions securing its status as a town, it would have easily passed for a village.

Players were few, mainly Seasoned Grinders. I could see a couple of Warriors too, most of them below level 30. Basically, this place had still a lot to grow. To a newb player, Leuton might seem like a megalopolis in comparison.

Despite their relaxed lifestyle, the inhabitants of Algar were no slow coaches. Which made sense. Time waits for no man, whoever said that. This game dictated its own harsh rules.

Closer to the night the streets might actually grow busier. A lot of players were out smoking forest mobs. Herbalists crowded all the nearest meadows. And my colleagues, fellow Diggers, spent all their waking hours underground. No point staying behind the town walls when you had work to do.

It felt good. I wasn't used to this kind of weather anymore. It was warm, the evening sun casting its gentle rays on the town. What a nice location. Especially after that humid Drammen.

This was the place Rrhorgus had suggested as our RV point.

At first I'd found Max's behavior quite funny. Still, a lot had become clear when he began to speak. I'd meant to question him at length but he only said that his father would explain everything himself, adding that he personally didn't know much. He was only a messenger, sent to me with a brief note,

Hi Olgerd,

If you're reading this letter it means Max has found you. Add me back to your friend list please, this way we can stay in touch. I need to see you. It's important. I can't come to you. They might smell a rat. It's best we meet on neutral ground. There's this God-forsaken town: Algar's the name. Let's meet up and talk.

RSVP

I read the letter, unblocked my friend list and contacted him. We decided not to drag it out and set up an RV for the same evening. I had a hunch that the mysterious "they" mentioned in his letter might have something to do with the arrival of the Steel Shirts head hunter. Before leaving, Max instructed me to be on my guard and keep my eyes peeled at portal stations to make sure no one noticed where I was porting to. All this had only strengthened my suspicions.

I hadn't risked using portals, especially seeing as today's caravan to Drammen had left the Citadel already an hour ago. If the truth were known, I hadn't considered using portals to begin with.

My satnav had had no problems locating Algar — and Boris had taken me there with an equal ease. We'd landed in one of the numerous forest clearings. Less than ten minutes later I was standing by the front door of the White Goose Inn where we'd agreed to meet up.

"Had I known you'd be such eye candy for all the Grinders in the area, I'd have invited you somewhere else."

I grinned, turning to the familiar voice. "Rrhorgus!"

"Hi there, man. So good to see you."

We hugged; then he eased me away, holding my shoulders. "You've changed. Are you posing as a dwarf these days? That's clever."

I shrugged. "I do my best."

He nodded and nudged me toward the inn door. "Let's go in and have a taste of the local brew. Then we'll talk," he paused and added in a whisper, "Were you being followed?"

I shook my head. "No. A 200% guarantee."

"Oh really?" he sounded surprised. "Now I'm curious."

"Not as curious as I am."

He slapped my shoulder. "Go in now. I can already see we'll be there a while."

As if following the already-established tradition, Rrhorgus went for the table in the farthest and darkest corner. We didn't have time to sit down before a waiter arrived, promptly took our orders and dashed back toward the kitchen. It looked like my friend had been right: players sporting my kind of gear were rare visitors here.

He smiled. "Before we begin, I have a few hellos from your family to impart."

My heart fluttered. "Did you see Dmitry?"

"I did."

"How are they?"

"Sveta and Christina are fine. Your wife says that Christina is stable. She says they both miss you. They can't wait to see you. That's all Dmitry told me."

I'd always been amazed how much one can convey in a few short, simple statements. I wanted more. One always does. Especially in my situation. But I could understand my brother. He was playing it safe. You can't share your family affairs with a stranger, they're nobody's business. And Rrhorgus
was
a stranger. But even this brief message was like a breath of fresh air for me.

"Dude, I really appreciate it. You can't even imagine how I needed it."

He nodded.

For a while, we didn't say a word. I was thinking about my own problems. Rrhorgus was tactful enough to give me time to recover from the news.

The waiter broke the silence. "Your order, gentlemen!"

He unloaded his large tray, placing several steaming platefuls, two beer mugs and two sets of cutlery onto the table. "Enjoy your meal!"

With a curt bow, he disappeared.

"Ah! That's useful!" Rrhorgus rubbed his hands. "I haven't eaten anything since this morning! Cheers, man!"

We clanked our beer mugs and tucked in.

"The service is good here," Rrhorgus nodded approvingly in the direction of the waiter.

"Just as good as in Mellenville, if not better."

He guffawed. "Oh, yeah! You're a big city boy now, aren't you?"

I decided to move to business. "Who did you mean by "them" in your letter? Steel Shirts head hunters?"

"Not necessarily."

"Shantarsky?"

"Also. A few other top clan representatives, too. Including the Dead Clan."

"Oh. So many?"

He chuckled. "Did you say they'd already found you?"

"The Steel Shirts, yeah. Tanor."

Rrhorgus nodded. "I know him. He's a piece of work. Anybody else?"

"Not yet. But judging by the expression on your, er, face it might only be a matter of time. Did you know they had their spies in all guild central offices?"

"Sure. It's not mentioned very often but those who need to know are in the know. They approach me quite often about new players. I sell gear, don't I? No newb can escape my shop."

"I see. When was the first time they asked you about me?"

"Right after your Spider Grotto gig. Shantarsky's men started grilling Max, like, you and I were friends so we were bound to know your whereabouts. At the time, I was in occupational therapy."

"Health problems?"

He emitted a short laugh. "You could say that. I've been unable to walk for many years now. I'm wheelchair-bound."

"You never told me. Sorry."

He grinned. "What for? It wasn't you who fell asleep at the wheel. You didn't crash your car into the ditch. Did you? In which case, shut the fuck up and don't you dare feel sorry for me. I don't like it. If you absolutely need to know, I'm allergic to sympathetic stares and tearful exchanges about my everyday challenges. Just forget it. Don't make me regret telling you."

"It's all right, it's all right," I raised my hands in a mocking gesture. "I got it. I'm not saying a word."

"Much better," he took another sip of his beer. "Where were we? Oh yes. Shantarsky. Dmitry told me all about you and him. Fucking bastard! You might be interested to know that all of our guys quit and moved town after that incident. All but me, that is. You need to understand. The Digger's Store is my domain."

"Of course," I said. "It would have been stupid to pull the plug on it. Listen, I feel really bad about leaving without explaining anything to anyone. The guys must be mad at me."

"Leave it," he waved my apology away. "They weren't born yesterday. They understand you didn't mean to drag them into this thing you had with Shantarsky. Who are we to you, anyway? Nothing really. Fellow players, that's it. And even then... So just don't sweat it. On the contrary: Flint, Sandra, Greg, they all appreciate what you did. But Shantarsky's dogs have no shame, I can see. And the worst thing is, you can't put them in their place without harming yourself."

I waved his warning away. "It doesn't matter anymore."

He chuckled. "That's where you're wrong. It's only just starting, now."

That came as a surprise. "Or really? Don't you think it's too much fuss about some humble Digger? Even if he
is
a Master?"

"A Master, already?" he opened his eyes wide. "Dmitry told me you were one busy beaver, but this... Oh, well. You're right, anyway. We have a feeling that their unhealthy interest in your persona has more to it than just your skill level."

I sucked in a deep breath and mechanically touched the bridge of my nose, trying to rearrange the non-existent glasses. "You know what, man... I might actually accept Tanor's offer. Or his bosses' offer, rather. You need to understand. Time is an issue."

He smirked. "How much did they offer you?"

"Enough," I said, serious.

"Make sure you don't bust your gut."

"Why should I? It's a dry location and a nine-to-five job. All I need to do is farm some resources for the clan. It's night and day compared to what I'm doing now."

"They offered you to join the clan?" he sounded surprised. "They didn't waste their time."

"I was worried about it too. Then I thought that it might be proof of their serious intentions toward me."

He smirked again. "You bet."

"Listen, dude. If you have something to tell me, just spit it out."

He heaved a sigh and leaned back in his chair. "That's why I was looking for you. Not only to explain things but also to warn you, if possible. Apparently, I'm too late. They're going to monitor your movements now. I'm surprised you got here without a tail. Did you splurge on a portal scroll? Never mind. We'll talk about it later. Something in your cheeky mug tells me I'm in for a surprise."

I gave an all-knowing smirk.

"Well," Rrhorgus tensed up, "I think they know everything there is to know about your char."

I nodded. "That's Shantarsky."

He made an impatient gesture. "That's not what I'm talking about. This is something totally different. Basically, you see... I've been here for quite a while. I saw some of the top players in their newb underpants. The clan wars. I was one of those who started the Glasshouse."

"I know, you told me."

"Right. So. The Darkies had one hell of a scrap once. The mother of all battles!"

"What's that got to do with me?

He frowned. "Let me finish."

"All right, all right."

"At that time, the Light players were quite strong. They would habitually raid the Dark side. It was probably because they had a lot more registered players. Being a player of Light was sort of cool at the time. Forums were full of claims that all Darkies were wusses. You get the idea."

"I don't think they enjoyed it."

"They didn't. But as the saying goes, whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

"You mean this scrap?"

"Exactly. Apparently, it was quite serious. They were fighting over some large castle that made up part of several instances."

"Heh! I can imagine."

"So basically, once it was all over, dozens of clans went bust. But the two strongest ones were born: the Caste and the Independent Clan."

"From what I remember, they now have all of the top Dark players."

Rrhorgus nodded. "That's right. But there's one other thing. Very few people know about it. I do because at the time I used to follow it. I was curious, you know. I've even tried to look up the old forums that discussed it at the time."

"And?"

"Nothing. No search results. My old bookmarks all lead to some new promotional sites."

"It happens."

"Probably. Who am I to argue? In any case, I'm not too eager to look into it."

"Listen, dude, I'm sorry to interrupt you but what's that got to do with me?"

"It's what caused the conflict that's important," he went on as if not hearing me. "I had no idea! And I should have guessed, if not immediately when I met you, then at least when we celebrated your promotion. I sifted through the whole auction that day trying to find something for your race. And all I found was that ring. Statless, as well. Just a piece of junk jewelry."

He glanced at my hands, then looked me straight in the eye. "Funny I don't see it. Did you sell it?"

I felt uncomfortable under his gaze. "I can explain."

He shrugged. "Never mind. It can wait. I was talking about what triggered the Darkies' conflict. I did speak to you about the Mirror World phenomenon of dead races, remember?"

"Do I ever! I'm one of them myself."