The Firebird Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

June skipped down the busy New York street.

“Hey, pretty lady!” The grocer raised his hand. “You happy about something?”

“Just got my first job as an airship pilot!” June continued to skip. When she reached her destination, she stopped, and looked almost straight up.

Her father, Duke Marigold, owned a company that controlled half the vineyards in the States. The building, Marigold Tower, stood as one of the centerpieces of the New York skyline. Her father’s office was on the top floor with a panoramic view.

June took the elevator to her father’s office. She walked across plush carpeting in the hallway and came to an ornate mahogany door. She knocked.

“Yes?” Her father’s voice was deep and commanding.

“It’s me, father.”

“Enter.”

June pushed open the doors and came into her father’s office. She held her hands behind her back in a proper pose. “Father.”

“Yes?” June’s father held a steadfast presence. His mustache was neatly trimmed and his beard cropped to form a staunch figure. He was muscular, to the point where his biceps bulged against his suit.

June cleared her throat. “Father. I’ve found a job as an airship pilot.”

June’s father looked up over his glasses. “You …” He looked away. “Your mother told me to keep you safe. I don’t know if she meant let you go on a dangerous adventure.”

“Who said it would be dangerous?”

June’s father sighed. “I cannot control you now that you are an adult, June. But I only wish that I not lose you as I did your mother.”

June stood on her tiptoes and kissed her dad’s cheek. “I’ll be safe, father.”

June’s father waved his hand. “Please. Leave me. I have much work to do. If you truly wish to do this, then I shall not stop you.”

June twirled around and left the office. On her way to the elevator she popped her head into the secretary’s office. “Hey Liz.”

Liz waved her arm in June’s general direction, and continued typing. “Sure, sure.”

June smiled and continued down the hallway to where the elevator was hosted. When she stepped in the elevator operator bowed.

“James!” June tapped her feet together. “I’m going to be an airship pilot.”

James nodded once. “A grand thing, Ms. Marigold.”

June held her hands behind her back as the elevator descended. When she finally exited the building, she took in a deep breath and headed to the airship docks. She passed through several alleyways and finally found herself in a dirty, little-traveled section of the airship docks. Exposed pipes hissed steam overhead. Barrels of fuel sat alongside the solid concrete walls. Rats darted in and out of cracks. The whole place smelled of sea water and diesel.

A lone airship hung above the single working dock spire. June climbed the spire and entered the airship. She stood before the control panel and cracked her knuckles.

“Okay. Turn on the tertifibulator. Engage axionic rudders. Twenty degrees point north.”

In her head, she saw herself soaring over the city, able to see the individual people like ants on the streets. In reality she was stuck on a non-functioning junk ship that was falling apart at the seams. But she didn’t care. It was good enough for her.

Tomorrow she was going to fly a real airship! She had been preparing for this moment for years. No one had taught her. She had found a pilot’s textbook in her father’s library and read through it enough times to wear out the seams. The first time she had ever been in the air behind the wheel was during her test—and she had just barely passed it. But she wasn’t going to tell that to anyone else. She wanted to be an airship pilot and she was going to become one. She imagined herself soaring over the Atlantic ocean, the waves beneath her, the smell of the salt in her nostrils. Fighting pirates, shooting cannons, flying like a gull.

And then she came back down to Earth and realized where she was. Sighing, she slid down to a sitting position and then rested her head on the cold floorboards beneath the control room.

“Welp. Here I go.”

###

“Dock twenty-seven,” said August, giving Dex his business card. “Be there tomorrow by ten am.”

Dex bobbed his head up and down. “Yes, yes. I’ll be there.”

August had expected Dex to give him a harder time about joining his crew. But in the end all he had to do was ask. It appeared this man Dex had been looking for an opportunity this whole time. Things were beginning to come together. Now all August had to do was get the blessing of his old mentor. He walked to the nearest phone booth and dialed his number.

“James Yuseph, who is this?” The voice behind the phone was deep, rough, and full of character.

“Hey, Captain.” August scratched his chin. “I need some help.”

“Then come by my place for some tea later this evening. I won’t hear no. We’ll talk then.” Captain Yuseph hung up.

August sighed. Yuseph was never one for the newer technologies like telephones and such. August sighed again, left the phone booth, and took the electric streetcar down to Linely Street Way, a new development in the lower part of the island. The air was a bit fresher on that side of the city. August found the building he was looking for and entered through the open front end. The building was just a normal apartment block that appeared to have been built recently.

August walked up to the third floor and knocked on room 305. There was a bit of a commotion on the other side and the door opened to reveal a grizzled old man with a large white beard. His eyes lit up and he swung the door all the way open.

“August! Come in, come in! I’ve got some tea on the pot for you!”

The man, James Yuseph, was an old acquaintance of August’s who had helped August acquire his first zeppelin. He had traveled across the world and was a first rate zeppelin pilot to boot. Though, he hadn’t been behind the panel for several years.

August stepped into a homely apartment decorated tastefully though in a bit of an outdated fashion. The room smelled of pipe tobacco and laundry cleaner. A single large wooden table took up most of the living area, while a couch sat next to a large radio set. Yuseph’s wife was sitting on the couch doing embroidery. She looked up as August entered and nodded.

Yuseph clattered about in the kitchen and brough out two cups of tea. He offered one to August.

August took the tea and sipped. “This is good.”

“Yes. It’s Marigold special.”

“I thought they only did wine?”

“They’ve recently branched.” Yuseph sat down. “In any case, what’s the matter? I know you called me for a reason.”

August set down his tea cup. “I’m gathering a crew to look for the mystery behind the Hindenburg.”

Yuseph frowned. “I would advise against it. There’s something sinister about this mystery. I don’t condone it.”

“I was going to ask you to come with me.” August leaned forwards.

Yuseph sat back in his chair. “You realize what you’re saying.”

“I do.”

Yuseph took a cigar out of the humidor on the table, cutting it and lighting it. “And I suppose you were going to ask me to come with you.”

August said nothing.

“Did you find a pilot?”

“I think I did.” August thought back on his interaction with June. “She’s a bit new but I think she’ll be fine.”

“Back in Spain I had a quick pilot who got us out of a lot of trouble. Who you chose to be your pilot will have a lot of influence on how well you deal with dangerous circumstances.”

August shook his head. “I trust her.”

Yuseph puffed his cigar. “Good. I’ll tell you what. If you manage to gather a full crew for that small ship of yours I will consider joining you.”

“Really?” August’s face lit up.

Yuseph puffed his cigar again. “I have a recommendation for you. The son of an old friend of mine. His name is Stephen. If you can convince him, then you’ll have a chance of convincing me.”

“Where does this Stephen live?”

“First off let me warn you. Stephen is an odd kid. It may put you off to be near him for a while.” Yuseph puffed his cigar. “But that’s my challenge to you.”

August rubbed his temples. “Okay. So I get this Steve person on board and you’re with me?”

“Exactly.” Yuseph flicked his cigar. “I said Steve was odd, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable.”

August sighed. “Sure. Tell me where he lives and I’ll go talk to him.”

Yuseph stood up. He went to the countertop of the kitchen and wrote something down. He returned to the sitting area and handed August the paper. “This is where Steve lives. Be careful around his mother, she’s really the violent type.”

“I see.” August took the piece of paper. “I’ll be off.”

“Do you have time to listen to some stories?”

August shook his head. “Sorry, I’m really in a hurry to get going.”

“Hurriedness is the path to doing things carelessly. However, I won’t begrudge you. Go on and have an adventure.”

“Hopefully you’re coming with me.”

Yuseph sighed. “Perhaps.”

August nodded at Ms. Yuseph and left the apartment. The address Yuseph had given him was on the other side of the city. August took the subway to the district and, when he got off, the smell of fish hit him in the nose. Steve lived in the fishmonger’s quarters, and as such, everything smelled like, well, fish.

August walked through a busy fish market until he came to a dilapidated building on a little-traveled street. Only a couple of hoodlums could be seen out in the open, giving August the stink eye.

August entered the building and climbed the stairs to the room Yuseph had given him the address of. Room 503. August knocked.

The door opened and a brusque woman of about fifty opened the door. Her eyes told August that she wasn’t exactly in her right mind at the moment.

“I’m looking for a man named Stephen.”

The woman turned her head and looked back into the room. With an incredible intensity, she yelled: “Steve! Get your lazy rump in here! Someone wants to see you! What the bridges did you get into this time? I’m going to whup your sorry behind!”

Through the crack in the door, August could see a stooped man trot to the entrance, his head hanging down.

“Eh—Eh hello, sir, what—what do you want?”

“Are you Steve?”

“Eh—yes, that is me.” Steve’s voice was halting, stuttering, as if he wasn’t sure about what he was saying.

“You stupid sod.” The woman, who August assumed was Steve’s mother, slapped the poor boy. “That’s not how you greet a guest.” The mother glared at August. “What do you want?”

“I’m here with a proposition.” August tried opening the door more. Steve’s mother resisted.

“If you read the sign you know we don’t do any of that religious junk.”

“I’m here to ask Steve to join an airship crew.”

“Steve? You must be kidding me. The bloke doesn’t even know how to count to ten. You can’t possibly want him to work for you.”

“I’ll leave it to my own impression. May I come in?”

Steve’s mother looked hesitant, but then grimaced and let August all the way into the house.

The house was a mess. It looked like the mother was a hoarder, and every available space was filled with junk. How does one live in conditions like this? August picked his way through the only spaces he could find until he found a chair. He sat down.

Steve’s mother slapped him. “Aren’t you going to prepare tea for the guest?”

“Yes, yes mother.” Steve’s eyes caught on something August was wearing. “Is that—is that a Belier five pin? From the series Phono created by Rachel Godstein?”

“Why yes, yes it is.”

“What in the blazes are you babbling about?” Steve’s mother slapped Steve again.

“S—Sorry.” Steve bowed his head as he prepared tea in the nightmare of a kitchen.

“You’re right.” August touched the small broach that he always wore on his right coat lapel. “You’re the first person to recognize it.”

“I—I remember things. I once saw a booth with that pin for sale. When I was eight.”

August blinked. There’s something about him. Yuseph was right. He is an interesting man. August did his best to stay comfortable in the mess of a room. “Well then.” He leaned forward. “Let me explain to you my proposition.”

 

The Lesser One Arc 2 Chapter 30: I hope so

 

I Hope So

Anderson web swings through the city with me under his arm. I try and fight him, struggling as hard as I can, but he wraps me in silk to the point where I can’t move anything except my head.

Chris is in hot pursuit, surfing on her lava board.

The civilians on the street look up as we pass. Anderson takes a sharp turn towards the Gherkin. He shoots a web to the top of the skyscraper and lands on the pinnacle. He pulls out a gun and holds it to my head.

“If you get any closer, I’ll shoot!” Anderson’s hand is shaking, I can tell.

So he isn’t emotionless. “Why are you doing this?”

“I would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for you!” He grips me tighter and holds the gun closer to my head. “No spirit can save you from a point blank bullet to the temple.”

Maybe mine can. I do something that I haven’t even thought of before. I reinforce my skull with an organic superalloy of Rearden Metal. I think it is strong enough to deflect a bullet, but I’d rather not find out. The metal flows through my scalp and I get an intense itching feeling where the metal bonds with my skull. I do my best to keep it subdermal so that Anderson doesn’t notice what I’m doing.

Jirgrar communicates with me telepathically. We have a sniper on point. But the government wants to send in the negotiator. When you give the command we’ll shoot, however, be aware of the consequences.

I continue to struggle against the webs that surround me. Using my last bit of motion, I press the Fallen Angels HUD: Challenge.

Chris is teleported to the tag team bench. The game separates Anderson and I, putting us on opposite ends of the egg-like roof of the Gherkin. I immediately activate <Invisibility.>

Anderson activates <Counterspell.> My invisibility shatters. I activate <Confusion.>

Anderson activates <Sudden Dodge.> He performs a Matrix-style duck underneath the effect of <Confusion.>

I activate <Giant Space Hamster.> A gigantic hamster rises out of a portal in the ground. It screams with terrifyingly loud resonance. Anderson grips his hand and two cards separate from his casting device. The giant space hamster charges at Anderson.

Anderson activates the card <Flying Dragon.> I know by looking at its effect that it is an uber rare. One that you can’t buy. I think it may be his trump card. Anderson then shoots several strands of web my way. I know from the Angels’ Fallen Empire forums that you can’t bring any modern weapons into a challenge, which lines up with the dungeon rules. Maybe the two run on the same software?

I dodge two strands of silk and conjure a bow. Rolling to avoid a third thread, I fire off two arrows at once.

Both of them get caught in a web, thrown together at the last minute by Anderson.

Anderson’s dragon tussles with my giant space hamster. They crash through the glass of the Gherkin and fall onto the floor below.

I charge at Anderson with a conjured dagger. Anderson casts <Switcharoo>, which switches his place with me. I am now running straight off the building. I use the trick Chris taught me and form a platform beneath my feet using the glass of the building.

“You coward!” Anderson is standing at the building’s apex. “You can manipulate glass too?”

“It’s just silica!” I form a bow and fire two arrows at him.

Anderson dodges both arrows with form. He then forms his web into a whip and cracks it over my head.

I duck underneath the whip as it flies above me. I form a smaller, more compact bow and fire it at Anderson. It hits, dealing one hundred and fifty points of damage.

<FIRST BLOOD!>

The giant space hamster and dragon continue to tussle underneath the rooftop, tearing through rooms and sending shard of glass flying everywhere.

I summon <Unbeing.> A mist rises in front of me and darts towards Anderson. The creature inside the mist stabs Anderson in the side. Anderson loses another two hundred life points.

Anderson lands a hit with his web on my shoulder. He begins to reel me in. The web is acidic and is eating through my flesh.

<-50>

<-50>

<-50>

I manage to cut the web and back away from Anderson. “Tag!”

Chris pops into where I was standing and I teleport to the tag team bench. Chris’s life points are the same as mine when we switched.

“No fair!” Anderson backs away. “You can’t do that! I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

“I paid a lot of money for this feature.” I hold my acid-eaten shoulder as I watch Chris and Anderson fight.

Chris can use another four cards, though she has nine in her deck. I know this because of the HUD in the corner of my vision.

Chris uses the card <Dramatic Reversal.> Anderson sees her activate it. If he uses a non-creature spell, it will go right back to sender.

Anderson pulls out a card and grins. <Enchant Break.>

Chris’s <Dramatic Reversal> effect shatters in a blast of color.

Anderson pulls out, by my count, his last usable spell. <Morn of Ash and Dust.>

A swirling typhoon of bones and skulls rises from the ground and surrounds Chris.

“Tag out!”

I switch places with Chris again. I use my last remaining card, which happens to be <Spatial Bubble.> It absorbs all the damage from the bones, with a bit left over. I rush at Anderson and stab him through the gut. The simulation ends and I return to where I was before, wrapped in webs, in his clutches.

And then his head explodes. I fall a few feet, roll on the roof of the skyscraper, and am caught by Chris.

Jirgrar sends me a mental message. Bullseye.

We must have distracted him just long enough so that he couldn’t use his web to deflect or block the sniper’s round. My chest, which still hasn’t completely healed, is hurting bad. I cough and cringing pain courses through my body.

Chris lowers me to the sidewalk. She disembarks from her magma surfboard and kneels beside me.

“Are you okay?”

I rub my wound. “Yeah. I am. You did great out there.”

“So did you.”

I grip her hand and pull myself to my feet. I am a bit wobbly but am able to stand.

The police negotiator arrives right about then, accompanied by some London Spirit Patrol members. A helicopter hovers over the top of the building, presumably collecting the body.

Jorge pushes his way through the crowd. He is holding a half-eaten crepe in his hand. “You did it.” He hugs me, smushing the crepe into my shirt. “You avenged my friends.”

“It wasn’t really me who took the shot.”

The police negotiator gets a phone call and pulls away. I look up at the Gherkin. There is no sign of the intense battle that was fought up there.

Jorge pulls away. “Look. I’ll treat you to dinner if you want. You and your friend.” He looks at Chris as if he’s seeing her for the first time. “Strange.” He shakes his head. “Anyways. Tomorrow night I’ll be free from my obligations. Meet me at five in the afternoon at the Bark Tree.”

“Bark Tree?” I look at Chris.

Chris shrugs.

“You can look up the address.” Jorge slaps me on the back, turns and then leaves.

I cough. His slap really set off my broken rib. But I can’t blame him. He probably didn’t know I had a broken rib.

Sure. Tomorrow at the Bark Tree.

The police negotiator returns. “Markus Red. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to ask you some more questions.”

I sigh.

Sebastian pushes through the crowd. “Sir. You didn’t tell me you were leaving.”

“I was abducted. I didn’t choose to leave.”

Sebastian looks horrified. “But …” He looks at Chris, bowing. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

Chris’s ice cold visage cracks a bit. “Yeah.”

Sebastian talks to the police and gets them to agree to let him drive me to the police station. This is going to be difficult, I can tell. Being kidnapped from an upper floor of a skyscraper is a pretty rare thing. I imagine I’m going to be all over the news. After all, there was a man killed with a sniper round right on top of one of London’s most famous buildings. There has to be footage of it all over the internet.

We arrive at the police station. I get out, and, escorted by Chris and Sebastian, I enter the building.

Two hours, loads of paperwork, and two intense interrogations later, I leave the station. My chest is really starting to hurt. I do my best to endure the pain on my return to the Esmex building. I am in no mood to do anything other than sleep.

My dreams that night are nightmares. I keep finding myself in the clutches of Anderson, and every time he shoots me in the head and I wake up with a cold sweat. It’s getting difficult to not be affected by all the action and death that I’ve experienced. This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up with nightmares.

PTSD. That word comes up in my mind.

No, I don’t have it. I can’t have it. I’m too mentally stable for it. PTSD is for soldiers who come home from war. I’ve never been in a war before.

I count as high as I can and fall asleep before I hit a hundred.

The next morning I wake up feeling horrible, as if I was run over by a truck. My broken rib throbs. My neck has a kink in it. Yeah, I was kidnapped by an evil wannabe Spider Man and saw his head get done in by a high power sniper rifle. Yeah, it sucks.

But I have to push through. I get up, put my suit on, and go into the living room. I don’t see Chris anywhere. I look for her for a moment, and then decide that she’s probably doing something important. Like sleeping in.

This morning, I go down to the lobby to get some of the breakfast bar’s free coffee. I eat a plate of bangers and mash—which is better than I thought it would be—and finish it with a cup of orange juice.

Sebastian comes down from his room. When he sees me, he raises an eyebrow. “You are awake early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“If you wish we can get you prescribed some sleeping pills.”

I think for a minute. “No. I don’t want to have to rely on those.”

Sebastian grabs some breakfast and sits down across from me. “Esmex is good to its employees.” He starts eating. “In lawhell the continental breakfasts are pretty bland.”

“Like the ones at those motels.”

“Exactly.” Sebastian continues to eat. He motions with his fork. “You’ve earned a few Angel Points.”

“Yeah. I think I even got one when I defeated Anderson.” I take a bite of egg. “Was that a sniper from Wagner’s Right of Way who took him down?”

“Yes.”

“Which group? Devils, or fairies?”

“It was a very talented elf sniper named Hendora. You may get to meet her soon.” Sebastian puts his fork down and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief. “In fact, you probably should meet her at some point.” He starts eating a muffin. “You should meet as many of your employees as you can. It’s good practice to do so.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that.” I also take a bite of muffin. “In any case, I’m just glad that it’s over. I can finish my internship, go home, and see my family again. No nonsense, no kidnapping, no blackmailing.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian stands up, clearing his plate. “I believe nothing else will happen during the duration of your stay.”

“I hope so. I sure do hope so.”

The Lesser One Arc 2 Chapter 29: Blood Debt

 

Blood Debt

An hour after I arrive at the hospital, I call my mom.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?” My mom’s voice sounds strained.

“Yeah. I just had a bit of a tumble from a helicopter.”

“What are you doing that had you in a helicopter in the first place?”

“Uh, adventuring business.”

“All right. I won’t dig any further. I head in the news that you had been awarded a second Adventurer’s Cross.” Her tone changes to a more happy one. “You’re a decorated hero over there. Everyone is talking about you. Your aunt wants to get your autograph when you get back.”

“Aunt Jackie?”

“Yeah.”

I spend about half an hour giving her updates and soothing her concerns. When the conversation is over I hang up and let the phone fall to my side. I sigh. The call went a lot better than I had expected.

I spend the next day in the hospital. The Blue Dryads handle my hospital paperwork, and I am let go after only a day and a half in bed. Though my chest still hurts, I have been told that I can resume any non-strenuous activity. That includes working with my conjurers. I do my job for the next couple of days, avoiding going out, as I might be challenged by a player. I am in no condition to do any sort of fighting right now.

Occasionally I browse the Angel Shop looking for anything that will help me with Alice’s condition. She’s been in a coma for weeks now and I don’t see her waking up any time soon.

Three days after I am discharged from the hospital, I have a dream. I see Alice, standing in an empty black wasteland. There are storm clouds overhead, rumbling with thunder and lightning. Alice turns to look at me.

“It took me so long to even be able to do this.” Alice’s voice is lonely and cold. “I only remember opening the portal with the key. Then everything went blank. I woke up here.”

I try something. Realizing this is a dream, I strain my mind to conjure some nice furnishings. The mental pathway is the same as when I am awake—I just imagine what I want to create, and it comes into being in front of me.

Alice’s eyes light up. “I didn’t know you could do that.” She sits down on the plush sofa I gave her. “You’re the best.”

“You’ve been here all alone?”

“I don’t know how long it’s been. Yes. I haven’t spoken to anyone since I came here.” Alice puts her chin in her hands. “Thanks. I really needed someone to talk to and you were the first one I could contact.”

“You know your mom isn’t coming back.”

“I kind of figured that. What happened to Wales? How many people died because of what I did?”

“Not many, considering the circumstances. We were able to stop it in time using an artifact called the Bone of Wisdom.”

“Ah.” Alice sighs. “So that’s what that mafia lady was after.”

“So she really was the one who convinced you to steal the key from me.”

“Are you mad?”

I shake my head. “I’m not mad at all. I respect what you were trying to do. There’s no shame in wanting to revive your mother.”

Alice smiles sadly. “Yeah.” Her form shimmers. “Thanks for the furniture. I think my connection is breaking.” Then she flickers out of existence and I enter a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I wake up I am instantly alert. I talked with Alice in my dream! This is a huge breakthrough. I need to tell Crayton right away.

I get out of bed, leave the room, and then remember that I am not dressed. I return to my room and, because of my injury, I struggle to put my usual formal attire on. Eventually I manage to do it and rush out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Chris is at the table, eating breakfast.

“I’m going to see Crayton!” I take out my phone and, in the elevator, call Crayton.

“Yes?” He replies, but his voice sounds groggy.

“I talked to Alice in my dream!”

Instantly Crayton’s voice changes. “By god, boy! Come up here and tell me what happened!”

Two minutes later I am knocking on the door to Crayton’s penthouse. Crayton opens the door with force. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me in. “Sit down. What happened?”

“In a dream. I met Alice.”

“Can you be sure it was her?” Crayton’s eyes are wide.

“It was her. For sure.”

Crayton grabs me with both hands. “Go to sleep now. Find her. Tell her to contact me with her dreams.”

“I can’t –”

Crayton seems to take control of his emotions. “Ahem. Anyways, what did she say?”

“She said she was sorry about everything. She also asked how much damage she did.”

“Not much, right?” Crayton rubs his forehead and walks to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

Crayton has a professional coffee steamer/espresso machine in his kitchen. “I make a killer latte. I’ve been getting into making coffee like this to get away from Alice.” He steams the milk and adds a shot of espresso. When he is done, he hands me a latte that could have come straight from Sunbucks.

I taste it. It really is good. The quality of the beans, the milk, how it was prepared—all great. I used to work at a coffee shop for a short time a year ago and I know exactly how hard it is to make a good latte.

Crayton sits down at the table in his living room and takes a sip of his latte. “About the tarasque.” He sips again. “I’ve discovered evidence that one might have come from the portal that prolapsed in Hawaii.”

“I know.” I sip my own latte. “My network found it out for me.”

“So what do you plan on doing?”

“I don’t know. The tarasque is a triple-S monster. So there’s no way I’ll be able to defeat it without an army.”

“I can gather an army.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How? There aren’t actually that many S-class adventurers in the world.”

“We can gather enough.” Crayton puts his latte down. “I have resources. And so do you. I know you’re as interested in her awakening as I am.”

I look away. “Yeah. I am. I wish things had turned out differently.”

“Now that we have a chance, I feel that we should take it.” Crayton stood up. “In any case, I have business to attend to. Company stuff. You go do your thing, and make sure to finish that writeup on the progress of the Rearden Metal conjuring.”

“Understood.” I stand up as well and bow before leaving the penthouse and taking the elevator down to the ground floor. It will be a while before I need to be at the lab. I take the time to walk through London on a hunt for players. Chris insists on coming, which I think is a good thing anyways.

Most of the players we see are much higher ranked than we are. Chris’s rank sits at 12901, and my rank is at 12906. We’re at the very bottom in terms of win ratio. One win and one loss probably balances our score. We see about five or six players on our walk. All of them notice us, but don’t approach, probably because it’s obvious we’re skulking. And we’re not stupid enough to challenge someone that much higher in rank than us.

As the rank seems to imply, there are a bit over twelve thousand people who play the game in the UK. As I heard from the Angels’ Fallen Empire Forum, each country counts as its own “server,” and people are only ranked against other people in their country. When you migrate servers your score goes to the bottom again as if you are a new player. Which is what’s going to happen when I return to New York.

We finally find someone who is a bit more than a thousand points above us.

Millie. Human level 75. Angel Points: 109. Score: 11456.

A “Challenge” button hovers in front of me. I press it.

The whole world gains the familiar post-apocalyptic veneer. Millie holds up her had and forms a sword made of rock in her hands.

“Hunters, eh?” She begins to circle me.

This time, Chris is sent to the tag team bench.

I use the card <Invisibility> to make myself invisible for thirty seconds. With that I charge her. I use the card <Confusion> to disorient her. It was the same card that was used on me when I first played the game—not too long ago. It cost me about a thousand pounds to buy at the card shop but it’s really proving its worth. I run up and cut her in half with a Rearden Metal sword, dealing over one thousand points in damage in an instant.

I thin I may have caught her by surprise, but in the end, all that matters is that I won. I gain an Angel Point and the world returns to normal.

Millie extends her hand. “First time I’ve been beaten by an American.”

I shake it. “Good game.”

Millie turns away and continues on her walk.

I return to the Esmex building and go up to my apartment to do some more research into the tarasque and Fallen Angels. I scour the Angels Fallen Empire forum for information that I can use to gain more Angel Points. I also scour the Angel Shop to see if there is anything I can use in my particular situation. But there’s nothing.

I teach my class for the day, record my progress, submit the paperwork, and then return to hunting on the street. Between the two of us, Chris and I gain three Angel Points. It looks like our financial situation has really helped us gain points in this case. Though my spirit is a good finisher, it really isn’t what pulls all the weight. In the end, though, we aren’t saving up for anything.

A day later the police come to my door asking about Anderson. After he avoided the police successfully during the pursuit, they’ve been trying to find him. He hasn’t left the country—they’re pretty sure about that—but he’s hiding somewhere where he can’t be found. I nod, answer all the questions I can, and then return to my computer.

There is a thump on the window. I look out just in time to see Anderson kicking through the glass, hanging on one of his spider webs. Shards of glass fly everywhere. I cover my eyes, staggering backwards as Anderson enters the room.

“It’s all your fault.” He holds me at knifepoint. “You’re the reason why the police know who I am.”

I conjure a Rearden Metal sword. “I’m not defenseless.”

Chris bursts into the room wielding two silver daggers. When she takes in the situation, she stands between me and Anderson.

Anderson throws out two spider webs, one from each hand. The right hand web catches Chris’s daggers, pulling them out of her hands.

I tackle Anderson, but he doesn’t fall. He grapples with me and drags me towards the window.

Chris fires darts of molten lava at Anderson. Anderson forms a shield out of web that deflects the missiles. Still holding onto me, he backs out of the room and jumps out the window. Chris grabs at me, but is unable to catch me. I am in the air with Anderson. Anderson pulls a Spiderman and swings away from the Esmex building.

“Chris!” I yell.

“Markus!” Chris leaps out of the building and forms a jet of flame that she begins to surf on. “I’ll save you!”

The Lesser One Arc 2 Chapter 28: Crash

 

Crash

We chase after the car. Two police cruisers pull from their patrols and add to the chase.

A single thick web shoots from the car’s window and tangles with the helicopter’s rotors. The helicopter spins out of control, debris flying everywhere. My world shakes violently. I am ejected from the helicopter with extreme force. My whole body moves like a ragdoll. I spin in the air, the street rotating beneath me.

Chris leaps out of the crashing helicopter and jumps after me. She grabs me by the waist and holds on to me as we fall. Before we hit the ground, Chris creates a molten rock ramp, freezing it into stone as soon as we hit it. I slide down the ramp, across the street and come to a stop against a lamp pole.

I clutch my broken rib. “Didn’t know … You could do that …”

Chris gives me a thumbs-up, which is the biggest display of positive emotion I’ve ever seen her do.

Dozens of spectators are watching. Some have injuries. The helicopter careens through the sky until it impacts a small business building, exploding in a huge fireball.

Lace lands on a cushion of air, carrying Detective Orines. She puts him down on the sidewalk, where he breathes heavily, clutching his side. Blood pools beneath his arm.

“We need an ambulance!” I stagger over to where the detective is sitting.

I should have used an Angel Point. I know it after the fact, but during the crash I was too stunned to do anything. It’s my fault. I didn’t react fast enough. If I had used an Angel Point, I would have been able to save more people. I would have been able to conjure something that would have kept the helicopter in the air.

This all started because of those Angel Points. Using my knowledge from class, I do my best to treat the detective’s wound. It’s a bit hard with a broken rib myself. Healing magic doesn’t work outside of a dungeon, so we’re stuck with calling an ambulance.

The siren of a London ambulance sounds totally different from an American one. It gets closer, and five minutes later Detective Orines is loaded onto it in a stretcher. His face is pale. As the door closes, he looks at me.

“Finish the job.”

The ambulance doors close. Several other injured bystanders also are taken to the hospital in an ambulance. A fire truck with paramedics pulls up and the firemen do their job. The blazing inferno of the building which the helicopter crashed into is sprayed with a high pressure fire hose.

Lace kneels in front of me. “I’m sorry.” She bows her head. “I failed you.”

“You didn’t.” I kneel beside her, grunting because of the pain in my rib. “You did the best that you could.”

Lace shakes her head. “I finally got the chance to meet you. And twenty minutes later I end up failing you.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think you did anything other than your best. You saved Detective Orines’ life, after all.”

Lace looks up. “I understand.” Her smile is a bit sad.

I stand up and look around the crash site. It is a bit less chaotic than when it happened.

But I am certain Anderson got away with it. I think about chasing him myself, but then decide against it. It would be too risky on my part—I don’t know what he is capable of.

Instead I call Jirgrar. I go into an alleyway where no one can see me and summon him. Thankfully, he’s not doing anything at the moment.

He appears out of an instant portal.

“Jirgrar.” I cross my arms. “We need to find Anderson.” I brief him on everything that has happened.

Jirgrar grins. “That, good sir, is exactly what us devils are primed to do.” He bows, and then disappears into smoke.

I’ll let them take care of it. In the meantime I need to find someone in the police station who plays Fallen Angels so at least one person knows what’s going on.

I leave the alleyway and return to the crash site. Several police cruisers have arrived. The officers get out—and one of them is a player. He gravitates towards me.

“Is this what I think it is?”

I nod. “Yeah. The Honey Badgers got betrayed by one of their members.”

“There are a couple of higher-ups who play Fallen Angels. I’ll report to them. In the meantime, you need to come to the police station to answer some questions.”

“Gladly.” I grunt. “But first, can I get someone to help me? I think I broke a rib.”

“Right.” The police officer calls the paramedics, who look me over and decide that I should probably go to the hospital as well.

“Ah, this is going to be difficult.” I am not a British citizen so I’m not sure if they’ll give me healthcare.

The police officer offers to take me to the hospital. I ask if Chris can come and he agrees.

Twenty minutes later I am in a hospital bed with a dressing on my side. Thankfully it was a clean break and shouldn’t hinder me for too long. Sebastian pushes his way through reception and comes up to see me.

“Please tell me before you do something as dangerous as this next time.” He sits in the seat next to the bed, right next to Chris.

Another detective enters the hospital room and grills me with questions about the crash and what led up to it. When he leaves, Sebastian leans forward.

“We’re tracking the person who did this to you. He’s going to come to justice.” Sebastian appears very serious. “Anyone who harms you is going to get the hammer. Wagner’s Right of Way is going to catch him, no matter what.”

I sit back and sigh, which hurts my broken rib. “Yeah. I think I’ve had enough adventure to suit me for a long while.”

“Your stay in London isn’t over yet.” Sebastian stands up. “Something else may occur that you will have to face. You can’t be sure of anything, as you are an S-class adventurer.”

I cough, which really hurts my bones. “Yeah. But I’ll be out of the running for as long as I have this injury.”

Sebastian frowns. “Indeed. I am of the opinion that you should cease working with Esmex while you recover from your injury.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I need to finish this. I need to fulfill my obligations. And this injury won’t prevent me from conjuring things or teaching other people how to conjure things.”

Sebastian sighs. “I will allow it. But please be careful.”

Carl Stevenson, head of the Blue Dryads, enters the hospital room. “I heard you got into a helicopter crash.” He sits down on the last empty seat beside the bed.

“Yeah. I was chasing this criminal with the government and he used some sort of thread to destroy the rotors.”

“We at the Blue Dryads do not work on top-level cases, but at the same time we don’t prohibit our adventurers from doing so on an individual basis. You are a decorated S-class adventurer. You have a lot of freedom in this regard.” He smiles. “I’m proud of you. You managed to do so much while here. I’m going to be sad to see you go.” He shrugs. “And of course you’ll be off the main team until your broken bone heals.”

“Thanks.” I do my best to sit up in order to shake his hand, but fall back to the pillow, unable to reach far enough.

Carl nods once and leaves the room.

I look at Chris. “By the way. That thing you did with the magma. How did you do it?”

“I am able to freeze magma as easy as I can create it.”

“Hm. So you’re not a pure fire spirit?”

“My spirit is, technically, temperature manipulation.”

“Sure.” I lay back in my bed. “Well, it saved my butt, so I can’t complain.”

Chris furrows her brow. “My job is to protect you, Markus. If you keep getting into trouble like this, I may fail at my job.” She crosses her arms. “I almost failed today. You may not have noticed, but I was forced to use …” She looks at Sebastian. “One of my points.”

I look at the text box above Chris’s head. Yeah, she is one point lower. I sigh. At least someone had the smarts to use an Angel Point.

Sebastian looks at me quizzically, but I only shake my head. Then I get an idea. I open up my personal portal dimension and pull out the pocket computer. When I put the memory card in, however, it reads memory card full.

Well this sucks. I turn to Sebastian. “Can you get the devils to find a certain memory card for me? A memory card for the game Fallen Angels.”

It seems that I am able to speak about the game when it comes to this specific part of it.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Okay. I will search for one.” He looks at the pocket computer. “Is that the device we spent over a million dollars on?”

“It was worth it, but yeah.”

Sebastian sighs, turning up his palms. “It is your money, after all.”

“I don’t really feel like it actually is, but sure. Yeah. Let’s go with that. By the way, did they still charge us for it, even though the auction was interrupted?”

“The owners of that device were a powerful mafia family. We considered it best practice to send them the money despite what happened at the auction house.”

“Ah.” I turn to look out the window. “Yikes. I was supposed to be at the lab a half hour ago. I haven’t even called in sick.”

I take the time to get my phone, and I call my immediate supervisor, a rather big man who I’ve only said hi to in the halls as I passed him. I tell him why I’ll be late and why I may miss a few days of work and then hang up.

I lean back again. “At this rate I’ll never finish my contract in time. Crayton will be mad at me.” I exhale slowly. “And where the hell am I supposed to find a tarasque?”

“About that.” Sebastian takes out his smartphone and scrolls through it. “Hawaii. There have been sightings of a large animal that matches the description of a tarasque. It roams around the island of Kauai. However, myth states that a tarasque cannot be killed by a mere mortal, or even a team of mortals. It is the ultimate predator, capable of leveling cities in an hour.”

“Like Godzilla.”

“Exactly, but even more powerful.”

Sebastian stands up, holding his hand to his ear. “Yes. I understand.” He looks at me. “We’ve found a possible lead about the memory card you mentioned.”

“That was quick.”

“Our network is further reaching than you may think.”

A devil who I do not recognize steps through a portal and hands Sebastian a memory card, though it is slightly different from the one I bought at the game store. I give him my pocket computer. He puts the card in, plugs in the earphone, and flickers in and out of existence in a split second. When he returns, he appears pensive.

“So this is what you’ve been hiding from me.”

His text reads: Aahlia. Devil level 142. Angel points: 10. Score: 12950.

“It worked.” I sit up again. “Go to the Angel Shop and buy the card Skulk. It will prevent higher-level players from targeting you. Also, go to the game store at this address—” I write down the address on a piece of scrap paper—“And buy enough cards to suit your playing style. The cards the game gives you are garbage.”

“Understood.” Sebastian bows and leaves the room. I am left alone with Chris.

Which, of course, isn’t exactly a bad thing.

The Lesser One Arc 2 Chapter 27: Betrayal

 

Betrayal

After a few minutes spent spinning my mental wheels, I calm down enough to actually enjoy the party. The award ceremony is in a different room of the palace and will begin in an hour. The current luncheon is for the mingling of parties who were involved, all part of a big social structure and hierarchy. The Brits really are stuffy when it comes to things like this. I spend the time spouting pleasantries and trying not to appear boorish. Though, I suspect I can get away with a bit more because I’m an American.

After the luncheon is the awards ceremony. I am presented with the medal by a high ranking official. The number of text boxes floating above heads is stunning. It seems like one out of every ten people plays Fallen Angels. And a lot of the people at this function are high on the score sheet. The highest scorer, of course, is the queen herself. She remains sandwiched between bodyguards the entire time, so I can’t even get close to her. I do my best to not stare.

This is a whole new world. A world where I am, yet again, at the very bottom. While I can conjure large amounts of pure energy like I did while fighting the S-class portal, I am still stuck when it comes to cards. From research, it appears that stopping a powerful spirit with very old spirit rings is as easy as using a card called “spirit crush,” among others.

I am glad when the ceremony is finally over. I spend a bit more time on pleasantries, and then I retire from the crowd and return to the limo.

Sebastian looks at me through the rearview mirror as we drive out of the palace lot. “You appear to be worried about something.”

“No one told me the queen of England herself played Fallen Angels.”

“It does not surprise me.” Sebastian’s gloved hands make a soft sound as they move along the steering wheel. Night has already fallen. Being in a vehicle at this time has always made me feel quite strange. As if the whole world is waiting on me. As if I am in a cocoon of darkness.

We arrive at the Esmex building and I step out. We enter the lobby. I am a bit hungry, despite the luncheon, so I head to the bar at the corner where the breakfast menu is served during the morning hours. Obviously I can’t buy alcohol but they do sell fish and chips. I order a platter for me, and turn to Chris. “You’re vegetarian, right?”

Chris nods. “Just some eggplant, please.”

“Eggplant? Do they sell that here?”

The bartender nods. “Eggplant. Coming right up.”

Two minutes later the bartender pushes me a plate of fish and chips and Chris a plate of steamed eggplant. I watch her eat it for a moment. Then I turn to my own food.

We finish fifteen minutes later. Five minutes after that I am collapsed on my bed. I am dead tired after everything that happened today. I have thirteen days left in my London adventure.

I decide to call Dr. Barrimore through Gaggle Interactions ™. I dial his number—it’s in the morning over there. He picks up.

“Markus! How have you been doing? I heard you got awarded a second Adventurer’s Cross!”

“I did. Hey, do you know anything about a game called Fallen Angels?”

Dr. Barrimore scrunches his nose. “No. Never heard of it.”

I am a bit surprised to hear that. However, once I think about trying to tell him about it, I lose all ability to form a coherent sentence. It’s just like the memetic hazard surrounding the Silverbones. Now I know why only a few people know about Fallen Angels even though it’s a really powerful platform.

“I, ah, I’ve just been wanting to play some video games. That’s all.”

“Well then, maybe you and I can have a game of Warto Car when you get back.”

“You play Warto Car?”

“My nephews love it.”

I spend about an hour shooting the breeze with Dr. Barrimore, and then I hang up and return to my bed. I am dead tired, and I fall asleep without even taking off my suit.

When I wake up I am cramped. My legs feel like they are full of iron bars. I creak my way to the bathroom and see that the suit left a mark on my cheek as I slept.

Chris is sitting in the kitchen at the kitchen table, reading a book and drinking coffee, not tea. It seems she is adapting to our world.

The doorbell rings. I open it to see Jorge, who is wearing the same style of Hawaiian shirt as before. Except this time, the shirt is torn. “Please, come with me. I need your help. You’re the only S-class adventurer who plays Fallen Angels.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Anderson has taken the whole of the Honey Badgers hostage. He plans to kill one of them for every ten minutes we don’t provide him with the Resolution of Suffering card.”

“I thought you were only at fifty-eight percent.”

“Well, a mysterious donor gave us the rest of the Angel Points we needed. But when we went to exchange the points, that’s when Anderson used his spirit magic to trap us in the pocket dimension. Only I was able to escape.”

I think for a moment. “I’ll help.”

Chris moves from the kitchen and stands next to me. “It’s going to be dangerous.”

“I understand that.”

Jorge gets on his knees. “Please. You have to help. Every ten minutes he’s going to kill someone.”

“Let’s go.” I pick up my phone to call Sebastian.

Chris brings my hand down with hers. “The entrance is just down the street, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

Five minutes later we are at the call box that doubles as the entrance to the pocket dimension. Jorge steps through. Chris and I follow.

“Is this where he’s keeping the hostages?” I look around the small entrance lobby.

“He’s keeping them inside the main chamber.” Jorge opens the door a crack and peers through.

I hear a voice coming from behind the door. “I know you’re there, Jorge. Did you bring me the card like I asked you to?”

Jorge grimaces before opening the door. “I brought it.”

“You were twenty minutes late. I’ve already offed Geon and Robert.”

“You’re a monster.”

“It’s classy nowadays.”

Jorge enters the main chamber. Chris and I follow.

Anderson has all of the members of the Honey Badgers tied up with some sort of translucent string. Jorge takes out a card and slowly approaches him.

“This is what you wanted.” He holds it out. “Just take it.”

I suppose this is where I’m supposed to come in? I make a move towards Anderson.

He points with his finger and a blast of web flies out, straight at me. I manage to dodge. The web sticks to the ground behind me.

“You have good reflexes, boy.” Anderson points towards one of the wrapped up players and snaps his fingers. “For trying something, I’m going to kill this man. What was his name? I don’t remember.”

“Please, don’t.” Jorge continues to approach Anderson with the card.

“Too late.” Anderson waves his hand and the translucent threads squeeze the man until he gurgles and dies.

I feel sick to my stomach. This is not an image that will be leaving my mind any time soon. Anderson’s grin is huge.

Jorge gives the card to Anderson. Anderson looks at it, grins wider, and then snaps his fingers. The webs around the members of the Honey Badgers begin to snap, wire by wire. Anderson pulls out an object and tosses it to the ground. In an instant he disappears. We are left with the members of the Honey Badgers, who are now trying to take off the remains of the web.

“So …” I look at Jorge. “I guess he got away with it.”

Jorge collapses to the ground, covering his face with his hands. “We’ll never be able to leave this game.”

“I believe in you. I think you should keep trying. Don’t give up.”

Jorge stands up and wipes his tears. “Can you help us with this? I know you have the power to acquire a lot more Angel Points than any of us can.”

“Are Angel Points transferrable?”

“If you mean able to be given to others, then yes.”

“I’ll do it. I’ve only got two weeks left here in London but I’ll do my best to help you. I won’t be able offer any of my Angel Points. I have a lot of money, though, and that may be helpful to you.”

“You’re just going to give us that money?”

“I’ll say its so that I can call in a favor at a later date. Some of you look pretty strong even though you’re in this group.”

“Skill in combat does not translate well to skill in Fallen Angels.” Jorge wipes his forehead with a handkerchief. “We’re going to have to start all over again.”

“I think Anderson can be beaten.”

Jorge looks at me incredulously. “How do you think we can do that?”

“I can track him down. He killed three people. And these are murders. We need to call the police.”

“Yeah …” Jorge takes out his cell phone. “Yeah. That seems like the best course of action.”

Ten minutes later I am standing outside the phone booth portal, watching as paramedics load the three bodies onto an ambulance. A detective approaches me.

“Detective Orines. Tell me what happened here.”

“A man named Anderson killed these people over a sports dispute.”

“Sports?”

Detective Orines is not a player, so I can’t talk about Fallen Angels with him—even if I wanted to.

“Yeah. But a little different.”

Detective Orines makes a few notes in his notebook. “We’re on the case. I’ve heard that this Anderson fellow has an item that allows him to teleport.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve hired a member of Wagner’s Right of Way to track him. You know who they are, right?”

“Who hasn’t heard of them?” I do my best to fake a smile. Those portal beings sure are getting up to some shenanigans while I’m not watching.

An elf with a police uniform approaches me. She has white hair just like Chris and her eyes are deep purple. She pushes Detective Orines aside. Orines doesn’t seem to mind, instead nodding and backing away to talk to someone else.

The elf bows slightly. “Hello, wielder of the Bone of Wisdom.”

“Uh, hi.” I do my best to smile.

“I thank you for providing me with the support that I need to do my job.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“My name is Lace. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Yeah. Just find that Anderson guy and make sure he pays for killing those people.”

Lace turns away. “We’re tracking a signature that might be him. Do you care to come with me?”

I think for a moment. “Yeah. How are you going to try to catch up with him?”

Lace takes out a small blue pearl. “This will lead us straight to him.”

“But he teleported.”

“The range appears to be small. He’s still somewhere in the greater London area.”

A helicopter approaches from the south, hovering over the phone booth and landing in the street.

Lace, Chris, and I climb on, as well as Detective Orines. The helicopter takes off, following the direction of Lace’s blue pearl. We fly across most of the city before the pearl starts to react. It snaps into position, pointing to the east. We follow it for five minutes.

A car, on the ground, suddenly speeds up.

Orines grins. “Looks like we got him, folks.”