Gamers Con: The First Zak Steepleman Novel (19 page)

Didn’t really seem all that important, to be honest.

The dragon had purple-green scales, and a great big
mace
of a tail.

And the way that the fire billowed out from between its rag-tag—extremely
pointy
—teeth was a definite alarm for me.

Almost as much of an alarm as it swooping on down, from the turret of the castle, and making right for us.

I could already feel the heat from the dragon’s fiery breath just standing where I did on the hill.

Despite the oncoming peril, I managed to keep my thoughts together enough to scout out the terrain, the
façade
of the castle, and see the drawbridge there—and the sooty opening beyond which led into the castle itself.

I knew that we needed to cross the moat, get into the castle, and do whatever task it was that
Everland Rubies
expected of us—most likely sorting brightly coloured shapes into the correct slots—before it would see its way to letting us go.

Right as the dragon wheeled through the air, I looked across Kate and James’s faces, and they looked equally stumped about just what we were going to do now to try and defeat it.

It
did
look just a little bit intimidating.

I was on the point of calling us to action, to shouting out for us to gallop our horses as hard as we could down the hill in the direction of the drawbridge, when a sudden stillness entered the air.

Time seemed to stop.

The warmth faded.

Replaced by a subtle,
fresh
breeze.

And it was then that I was drawn back to the castle, or, more exactly, the light-purple—or was it faintly pink?—ray which protruded out from the roof and shot upwards into the air, splitting through the frumpy, cotton-wool clouds.

I squinted hard. Wondered if I might need glasses. Then remembered that I was inside of a video game and that glasses probably didn’t come into it.

But I saw the figure.

Flying upwards within the ray of light.

Seeming to speed up.

Alan
.

All three of us stood there stunned, watched him rise on up into the clouds, and disappear from sight.

The cool sensation in the air stopped right about then.

And the fiery glow returned.

I sank my heels into the sides of my horse, made to plunge down the hill, heading for the drawbridge. I didn’t dare to look up as I listened to the hooves of my horse pounding through the long grasses, throwing up turf on all sides as we went.

I did sense the shadow passing over me, though, the dragon coming lower and lower, preparing to pick one of us off.

Somewhere, at the back of my mind, I vaguely hoped that it would be me.

That it’d, at least, put an end to
my
role in all this.

But I quickly shoved that thought away.

Heard the
swoosh!
through the air as the dragon soared right over me, its talons just brushing the tips of the hairs on my head.

From behind I heard a scream.

This time I
did
look back.

Watched on as the dragon seized hold of James by his shoulders, sank its talons into his skin, and then rushed upwards, into the air, once more.

Our horses, apparently startled by this, halted.

I looked to Kate.

She stared upwards at the dragon and at James as he dangled down from its talons.

In the end, it fell to me, to grab hold of her and yank her—and her horse—onwards towards the drawbridge.

There was no time to waste.

And, in any case, whenever we got through with this whole thing, James would be back there, in the convention centre—at Gamers Con—waiting for us.

44

THE COOL STONE that surrounded us inside of the castle was a welcome change to the brash action outside—to the dragon which had picked off James and lugged him off into the distance.

The dragon which had
killed
him.

For a couple of moments, after me and Kate had shucked our horses, taken to foot and headed on into the castle, I just stood letting my heart tick away to itself.

Tried to get my pulse back under some sort of control.

To wipe away the veneer of sweat that’d broken out on my forehead.

I looked to Kate, saw that she’d gone totally white in the face.

I reached out, touched her gently on the shoulder. “Are you okay?” I said.

Though I saw she was trembling, she managed to give me a nod.

I did my best to smile in return, to make her feel at ease, but I was sure that it came out as more of a grimace. “We’ll see James, and Chung, in a little while, okay? It won’t be long, I promise.”

She gave me another nod, as if to try and cover up the fact that she was still shuddering all over out of fear.

For a couple of seconds, I thought over how this must’ve been playing out for all those spectators, all those people back in the convention centre watching the plasma screens.

Did they think that this was
impressive
, or just some blunt-headed
virtual reality
trick?

I knew one thing for sure, that on the message boards of Gamers Gold—the UK’s number-one, bestselling, gaming magazine—there would be some pretty heated discussion about the Final of the Grand Tournament of Gamers Con ending up with such a
novelty
challenge . . . or maybe they’d realise what was
really
going on here . . . that really
would
make for some more heated debate . . .

“So?” I said, “Where to next?”

Kate blinked a few times, apparently still getting past her fear. She breathed in deeply a few times, her shoulders shuddering as she did so. And then, just like that, she seemed to snap out of it, to get her mind back locked in with her surroundings.

She met my eye. “You play
Everland Rubies
all that much?”

I shook my head. “How about you?”

“I won a minor tournament about six months ago.”

She managed to stay straight-faced for approximately three quarters of a second before busting out in a bright, wide-eyed grin.

I smiled back at her,
now
extremely
glad to have her along for the ride.

If there’s one thing that gamers can never be accused of, it’s false modesty.

“This way,” she said, leading me along the stone corridor.

* * *

As we got deeper into the castle, I noticed the natural light from outside wane and give way to the torchlight.

That glow sent a slight shimmer across the surface of my skin as I recalled the fire-breathing dragon from before.

We’d gone down a fair few flights of steps, and I guessed we must’ve been somewhere in the basement of the castle by then, and, apparently, approaching our destination.

I couldn’t quite recall all that much about
Everland Rubies
. . . it just wasn’t one of those games which was memorable for me—and certainly not one that I ever would’ve been able to spend enough time with to actually be able to get myself up to anything resembling
competition
standard.

Then again, I guess I could be accused of being lazy.

Or just not having that much tolerance for stuff that’s not fun.

Whatever.

At the end of this corridor—now
only
lit by the orangy glow of torchlight—I picked out the sturdy wooden door. I slipped Kate a sidelong look and she gave me a nod in return.

“This is it,” she said, “this is the final level of
Everland Rubies
.”

“Anything I should know before we head on in there?”

She gave a shrug, looked at the door, and then said, “I’m pretty sure they’ll only let
one
of us get past it.”

45

I DIDN’T HAVE much time to allow the revelation from Kate’s last comment to die down—that one of us, most likely, wouldn’t be making it past this point.

Then again, I thought about the rate we’d been picked off in the Final so far and I knew that, whatever happened, there could only be
one
winner of the Grand Tournament.

And it didn’t matter who that’d be as long as it wasn’t Alan . . . though I couldn’t quite say why that was, didn’t understand
why
I needed to stop him so badly . . . I guess it was just a gut feeling.

We passed through the door, emerging into an
enormous
room which stretched up for about ten, fifteen storeys.

I could make out the bright daylight dribbling in through the open roof above our heads.

This, I supposed, was the room which we’d seen Alan propelling himself up through, and into that ray of purple light which’d flown him into the clouds.

I brought my focus back.

Took in our immediate surroundings.

Absorbed the grid of multi-coloured, gemlike blocks which occupied the stone floor in front of us. I looked to their pattern, found myself lost for just a moment, then I glanced over to the other side. Saw that there was another grid alongside that one. And a tiny gnomelike creature sitting off on a wooden stool there, its arms crossed, wearing a bright-green tunic.

I noticed its rosy cheeks.

And its red-lipped mouth.

“Two of you, huh?” the gnome said.

I looked to Kate, seeing if she might have some sort of a tip for this encounter—she was the expert of
Everland Rubies
after all.

But she looked just as blank-faced as I felt.

“Can’t let you both through,” the gnome said, nodding to the pair of grids occupied by the gemlike, multi-coloured blocks. “Only gonna play one of you.”

“Why can’t you play us both?” I said.

The gnome shrugged. “Orders from above,” he said.

“What’ll happen to the one that has to stay behind?”

“Not
my
problem . . . but I’ve got orders that only two were allowed to progress through here, and I already let
one
through.”

Alan
, I thought.

The creature’s red-lipped mouth broke out into a filthy grin. “And that’s if one of the two of you actually
manages
to beat me . . . else you can both stick around here till the call comes.”

I looked to Kate, not really sure what to do next, though, deep down, I was
certain
that I knew. “You,” I said, “you’ve got to play him, that’s the best thing for it—you’ve got the best chance of winning.”

I half expected Kate to shake her head, to refuse to do what I said, but instead she looked to the gnome. “Can we make a deal?”

The gnome frowned. Shook his head. “Nope.”

Kate, though, wasn’t defeated yet. “How about if I play and
if
I win against you, you let Zak through to the next stage?”

Before I’d fully absorbed just what she’d said, I found myself bursting out, “No! What’re you saying?”

“Look,” she said, “it makes sense—this is my best game. If we think about things probability-wise”—that was the point where my brain might’ve switched off, since I can’t really stomach anything to do with maths—“then it’s likely that a game coming up next will be one that
you’re
better than me at.”

I breathed in deeply, about to protest again.

But Kate cut me off.

“Think about it—Chung, he knew his way around that falling section, with the mattresses, of
Labyrinths, Labyrinths
. . . then James the underwater section.” She nodded to the puzzle spread out before us. “Now
I
know this part of the game . . . thinking about it logically it’s likely that something that’s coming up
you’ll
be better at.” She looked to the gnome again, who was still sitting with his arms folded and looked more likely to allow us to eat him alive than to accept Kate’s request. “It’s the best shot we’ve got of beating Alan to the trophy—of bringing our
parents
back . . . don’t you see that?”

I did see
that
. . . but I was still having trouble in letting go.

I looked to the gnome again. “So,” I said, “what do you say to that?”

The gnome kept his arms all folded, and a slight meanness entered his eyes. I was certain that he was about to tell us no . . . but then, right as he made to part his lips, I saw something shift in him, and I knew that—for whatever reason—he had decided to change his mind.

I thought back to those earlier rounds of the Grand Tournament, to those
glitches
, and I couldn’t help but wonder if—maybe—one of the invigilators was involved here.

The gnome opened his mouth again, seemed to speak against his will. “Okay,” he said, “I
accept
.” Then, just like that, he hoiked himself up off his wooden stool, and made his way over towards the board,
his
board, while Kate headed over to her own.

And, with me watching on—
spectating
—they began to play.

46

KATE MADE ABSOLUTE MINCEMEAT of the gnome.

She beat him in what must’ve been about thirty-seconds flat.

I hardly got a grip on what was going on between them—recalling just how the game even worked—before she’d destroyed the gnome.

When she’d won, she looked over to me, a nervous smile playing out on her lips, and I watched her mouth a “Good Luck” that I only had a fraction of a second to register before I felt myself rising up into the air.

Flying
upwards.

That
coolness
passing through my body.

Taking me over whole.

When I looked back down—always a mistake—I saw the castle below me, now rendered as almost a miniature, and, off over the hills in the distance, the dragon flapping along, apparently looking for another victim.

Before the dragon had a chance to even register that there might be another meal in the offing, I ploughed upwards through the fluffy, white clouds, and into the searing, crisp, bright-blue sky.

All around me was the pink light.

The light which, when I looked up, I saw was coming from the sun.