Gameplay (9 page)

Read Gameplay Online

Authors: Kevin J. Anderson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #epic

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

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

Delrael flushed in anger. “I didn’t say that!”

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

Delrael clamped his mouth shut. Bryl let out a quiet moan of despair. Journeyman gawked in shock at Delrael, the silver belt, then the queen Anted.

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

Delrael drew his sword and crouched, looking from side to side and daring the Anteds to come closer. He stepped away from the consort-creature. The lights grew dim around him as he focused his attention on the sword, on any enemy that might come.

“Try it, Ryx! We’ll cause more damage than your Anteds have ever seen.”

Following Delrael’s lead, Journeyman drew himself up, ready to fight. Vailret and Tallin both pulled out their weapons, and Bryl held the Fire Stone. Nobody looked eager for battle. Three Anteds came forward, clacking their jaws, but hesitating. The air around them crackled with tension.

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

Consort scampered forward, clutching at Delrael’s arm. The fighter snatched the claw-hand away, sweating and looking at the gathered insects. “Come,” Consort said. “Come.”

The Anted guards backed away from one of the catacomb openings. “You will not resist,” Ryx said in a brittle voice. “You have already stretched my patience to its limits.”

Delrael looked at the queen, at the other Anteds, then sheathed his sword. “We don’t have any choice, again,” he said. “We never get to
do
anything in this adventure.”

Journeyman restored his swollen fists to normal size. “He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day.”

Consort snatched up the empty shell of the Anted head he had found and swayed forward, walking like an insect. He turned once to see that the others followed him. One of the giant ants entered the passage behind them, keeping watch.

* * *

Consort capered ahead of them, exuding coiled power and nervous energy. The tunnels wound downhill again until they saw only the dim greenish light from patches of fungus on the wall. Occasionally, an Anted poked its massive head out of side tunnels, watching the captives’ progress. Delrael could sense other insects following in the darkness of the tunnels behind them. Somehow in her great hive mind Ryx watched through all of their eyes.

Delrael kept the directions filed away in his mind. As a questing character he could recall exactly where he had been and how to retrace his steps. He kept his eyes open for any way they might escape or defeat the Anteds, ready to act on it without thinking if an idea came to mind.

They crossed a hex-line etched into the passage, up the walls, and across the ceiling over their heads, as if the Anteds had directly through the black mark that went to the base of the map. “That’s half of the desolation hexes,” Tallin said. “Things can start getting better now.”

The green light grew brighter ahead. Consort turned the corner, leading them to the glowing opening of a wide chamber. Light streamed from it.

“In,” he said. He swung his curved hands, gesturing them with his fused fingers. “In, in, in!”

Dripping growths of fungus covered the chamber walls. Mounds of dead things, mulched and unidentifiable, nourished the phosphorescent fungus, food for the Anteds. A wet, rancid smell made the air thick and difficult to breathe.

“What will Ryx do to us?” Bryl asked.

Consort looked up and bobbed his head, grinning. “Eaten. Fresh. Or added here.” He bucked his shoulder to indicate the mounds under the fungus.

Vailret tapped one of the ingrown plates on the part-human’s back. “Consort, what is your real name? Do you remember?” he asked.

“Consort,” the part-human said. “Consort.” He shuffled ahead and did not look back at them.

“No, I mean your name as a human character. Do you remember when you first came to Ryx?”

“Ryx!” Consort lifted his eyes up in a worshipful expression. “Made me Consort. Feeds me.”

“She’s changing you into … this,” Vailret said, “with what she’s feeding you.”

“Seems to be wrecking his mind, too,” Tallin snorted.

“I wandered map. Scavenger,” Consort said. “Then found Ryx.” He seemed lost in memory, trying to piece together the scattered dice game of his mind. He raked a curved claw-hand across his scalp, tearing up patchy hair. In the green light, Consort’s skin looked black and glistening, inhuman.

“Do you remember back then?” Vailret said, “Did you play any games?” He took out his set of dice. Something registered in Consort’s eyes when he stared at the dice.

“Games?” Vailret repeated. “Do the Anteds play games with you? Here, let me show you.” He rolled the dice. “You have to guess which number will come up. See?” He rolled again.

“Games.…” Consort said. His head drifted from side to side, fixing his saucer eyes on the dice.

“Del, come here,” Vailret whispered. The two of them played a dice game. Consort did not join in, but he watched with his full attention.

“Or how about this one?” Using Tallin’s dagger, they sketched a grid on the floor. Delrael and Journeyman played tic-tac-toe.

As Consort watched, old thoughts finally seemed to break through. “Ryx never plays games. Not these.”

“But you used to like to play games, didn’t you?” Vailret said. “All human characters do. Here—roll the dice yourself. Play with us.”

Consort awkwardly held the dice in his cupped claws. As he noticed his fused fingers, another thought seemed to jar loose. He stared down at his hands, as if puzzled at what could have happened to them.

They played a few rounds with the dice. Consort went through the motions, obviously not quite grasping what he was doing, but Vailret and Delrael arranged it so that he won the round. Consort’s excitement grew, and he became more and more interested.

If only they could be sure Ryx was not watching through
his
eyes, too.

“How’d you like to play another game?” Tallin said, grinning so that his pointed beard jutted out. His forest-patterned clothes had lost all their colors in the green light. He winked at Delrael. “You must have played this one, Consort. It’s fun, and you’ll probably win because you have the advantage.”

“Game?” Consort’s bulging eyes never blinked as he cocked his head from side to side. “Game?”

Tallin flashed a toothy grin. “It’s called hide and seek.”

“Yes,” Delrael picked up the conversation, fixing on the ylvan’s idea. He liked the way Tallin’s mind worked. “It’s more fun than dice. You stay here and give us time to hide. We’ll go out into the catacombs, then you try to find us! Once you find all of us, then you can hide, and we’ll try to find you.”

“Rule number one, you know,” Vailret said, “Always have fun.”

“Hide and seek.” Consort stood up and made his eerie chirping noise again. “Games.”

“All right, stay here and cover your eyes. Wait a long time now, otherwise it won’t be fair. Then you come find us.” Delrael smiled, but turned his head to the side, “Go!”

Consort hunched by the glowing fungus. He tapped his claw-hands on the hard floor, buzzing to himself. He couldn’t close his saucer eyes, but he stared at the wall.

They ran into the dimness, not knowing where they were going. “Head uphill,” Delrael said.

“And be quiet,” Tallin added. “If we don’t bump into any Anteds, Ryx won’t know where we are.”

At each intersection of tunnels, they chose the one tending upward. Delrael ran with sword drawn. “We have to kill any Anteds right away, before they can signal to more.”

They lost their sense of time. Without seeing daylight above, they had no idea how far they had come or how long they had been down in the catacombs. Delrael’s sword felt a part of him. His wooden
kennok
leg did not tire. The companions pushed on. Their eyes were wide, their lips white, their teeth pressed together in determination.

He knew they would encounter an Anted soon, very soon. He hoped they could find their way to the surface first.

The hazy green light increased the shadows around them, offering too little illumination to see anything sharply. The air was dense and warm, stifling. Delrael couldn’t seem to get enough breath.

His senses were keyed up to a fever pitch. He picked up motion in a tunnel to their right, something trying to move quietly. And then in the dim light he saw the clear outline of an Anted head moving forward, ready to spring—.

Delrael swung his sword and thrust forward as he plunged in faster than he could think. He hoped the sharp point of the old Sorcerers’ blade would break through the chitin and strike something vital in the Anted. The sword plunged home more easily than he had expected, and he twisted the hilt, driving upward. Something was wrong.

“Found you.…” said Consort, then he made a gurgling sound of delayed pain.

His hollow Anted helmet slipped off his head and clattered to the floor of the catacombs.

Delrael withdrew the blade and released his grip on Consort’s shoulder. The blade caught on one of the implanted armored plates, peeling it from his skin and exposing soft jelly-like tissue. Consort slumped bleeding to the floor.

“Ryx …” The breath rattled in his throat, gurgling. He made his inhuman chirping sound again before he died.

Delrael stared down at what he had done. He felt more shaken than he thought he should. His mouth was dry, and it hurt when he tried to swallow.

Tallin reached out to grip Delrael’s wrist. “We have to get out of here. One less spy to deal with.”

“Ryx might know what’s happened,” Vailret said.

They ran, taking less care to remain silent now. They turned a dozen more times, lefts and rights, and finally they came to one passage that sloped sharply upward.

A bright golden-blue light sifted through one of the cross-ventilation holes near the ceiling of the tunnel, just above Delrael’s eye level. He stood on his tiptoes and looked. “I can see a way out on the other side of this wall.”

“No way we can get there.” Vailret scowled up at the light. The hole was less than a foot wide, too small for anyone to worm through. “It doesn’t do us any good.”

“It’s close enough,” Delrael said. “I’m not going to wander around here anymore. We can get through this.”

He used the hilt of his sword to pound at the edges of the opening. The fused sand chipped away and broke, crumbling loose as he worked. “Journeyman, help me.”

He moved to one side, allowing room for the golem. Journeyman grasped the edges of the hole and began ripping away chunks of the cementlike sand.

“It might be wide enough for Tallin to squeeze through,” Delrael said.

The ylvan came forward, raising his arms as Delrael lifted him to the hole. “Get away if Ryx comes after us.”

Tallin glanced at him, then worked his shoulders into the narrow opening, squirming through. “No, I’ll wait for you on the other side.” The ylvan pulled himself out. “Just don’t dink around—Hurry up!”

His knees and feet disappeared through the hole, and they heard him drop to the floor. Delrael passed the little man’s quiver and crossbow through to him.

“The opening to the surface is too high for me here. I can’t reach it to climb out. Anybody got a ladder?”

Delrael and Journeyman worked furiously widening the hole. “Your turn, Bryl! You can fit.”

The half-Sorcerer stood up, appearing uneasy. He brushed at the sides of his cloak and straightened his white hair and beard. Delrael wondered why he looked so frightened.

“I don’t like to be separated. Especially not here.”

Delrael urged him to the wall. “We’ll be with you in just a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

With a boost from Journeyman, Bryl crawled through the tunnel, scraping his shoulders and elbows. He fell to the floor on the other side, then scrambled to his feet. Tallin crossed his arms over his chest and watched the work on the other side of the wall. Daylight from the opening overhead gleamed down, blinding and bright after their hours in the green dimness.

Journeyman worked in silence, but the chipping of steel against stone rang out along with Delrael’s grunts of effort. Another noise suddenly joined it. Delrael paused to listen.

Tallin called up through the wall. “The Anteds are coming on
this
side!”

More sounds echoed from other tunnels, like a melodic battle cry. Twelve deadly black insects emerged from different tunnels in the maze.

“Delrael, hurry up!” Bryl said. “I don’t think my spells will be enough.”

Delrael did not answer them, grunting as he pounded with the hilt of his sword. Sweat streamed down his forehead, and his arm ached. He gritted his teeth and paid no attention.

Tallin slipped his crossbow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow. He removed a dagger from his belt and, without taking his eyes from the Anteds, thrust it hilt-first at Bryl.

“Take this! If you run out of spells, you’ll need something to defend yourself with. I’ll be too busy to worry about you.”

Bryl slipped the dagger up his flowing sleeve. He withdrew the Fire Stone and rolled it at his feet. A “2.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Bryl said. He grabbed up the ruby and held a roaring fireball in the palm of his hand. He waited for the Anteds to make the first move. “I’ve only got three spells left.”

Tallin’s eyes flashed as he crouched. He turned in slow circles, watching the insects.

All twelve Anteds rushed at once. Their claws clicked on the hard floor. Tallin shot at the foremost Anted, sinking his arrow up to the fletching in a faceted eye. The Anted wheezed and collapsed, oozing a green blot of ichor. Bryl hurled the blossoming ball of flames to explode in the face of one of the black creatures. Tallin slipped another arrow into the crossbow and fired, but it struck the hard insect armor at an angle and bounced off.

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