Game Play (30 page)

Vailret rolled onto
his back and kicked his feet against the loose ground to push himself away. It
was all happening so fast. Mindar and Delrael were shouting, running with their
swords drawn.

An explosion of
fire erupted around the perimeter to separate the golem and the Cailee.
Journeyman made no sound, though the fire blackened his clay skin. The Cailee
shrieked and flung itself back into the darkness.

Bryl sat with the
Fire Stone cradled in his hands, biting his lip. He struck out again with the
flame spell, though he saw no target. When the fire faded away, Vailret smelled
smoke in the air. He heard nothing else, no insects, no footsteps, only his own
heavy breathing.

Delrael scowled and
used a stick to push the mare's head out of the fire. The blackened hide smoked
with the smell of roasting meat.

Journeyman paced
around and remained alert. "A blast of fire and it goes away?" He
used his other hand to smooth the gouges and push his clay skin back into
place.

"The other
Tairans never resisted it before," Vailret said. He picked himself up and
brushed at his skinned elbow.

Mindar shook her
head. "The Cailee is still out there. Scartaris isn't finished with us
yet."

Roaring inhuman
rage, the Cailee burst back into the camp, opposite from Delrael. Without an
instant of hesitation, Journeyman charged at it, balling both fists.

But the Cailee knew
exactly what it wanted. The shadow-thing streaked in the flickering light and
reached out its silver talons for Bryl.

Mindar's whip
cracked like the sound of a breaking spine. She crouched and placed herself in
front of Bryl. Her gaze locked on the Cailee's pupilless yellow eyes. The
moment seemed to hold for hours. Vailret could see violent emotions surging
through Mindar's mind.

The Cailee laughed
silently and tried to dodge sideways to reach Bryl.

Bryl scurried
backward, bumping into Journeyman. He cried out, but the golem held him firm.

Mindar struck out
with the whip again, tearing into the lightless flesh.

A fistful of silver
claws exploded forward, hooking into the leather whip, and jerked backward
swift as a shadow. The claws shredded the whip into a snowflake of leather
tatters, throwing Mindar's shoulder out of joint.

Though crying out
in pain, Mindar was already reaching for her rippled sword with her left hand.
She swung clumsily, trying to protect herself, and sank the blade into the dark
void of the Cailee's body. Droplets of night sprayed onto the sand, vanishing
into the shadows.

Delrael ran forward
with his own sword. Bryl rolled the Fire Stone, scrambling out of the way.

With a roar of
pain, the Cailee lunged at Mindar, striking in an arc of silver claws as it
tore open her side, breaking through ribs to her heart.

She fell, spewing a
red rain of torn flesh and spattering blood "Mindar!" Delrael
screamed.

Bryl touched the
Fire Stone again. A wall of flame erupted between the shadow-thing and Mindar,
burning both. The Cailee howled, blinded by the blaze, scratching at the air
with silver claws.

Delrael stabbed
through the flames, probably burning his own hands, blistering his skin. Singed
hair curled back away from his forehead. But the old Sorcerer sword struck
something solid where the Cailee's chest should have been.

Bryl let the flames
die away. Delrael staggered back, nearly tripping over Mindar on the ground.
Vailret went to help him.

The Cailee made a
high-pitched moan, then faded as they watched, dissolving away into the night.

Delrael stood
trembling in the wake of his attack. He stared at the blade of his sword as if
to see how the Cailee had stained the steel, but it seemed untainted.

Bryl whimpered in
the firelight. Vailret crawled forward to join him.

Mindar made a
choking sound on the ground. Delrael knelt beside her, pushing aside a sharp
rock. Her spring-green tunic had been crisped brown by the fire. She shuddered,
curling herself into a fetal position.

Together, Delrael
and Vailret rolled Mindar on her back. Fresh, dark blood poured out of her torn
side. Her face had a wet, gray appearance. Her mouth made a choking, sucking
sound as she tried to breathe.

Delrael touched his
fingers to her forehead. "It's gone. We killed it."

Vailret stared at
his cousin, but Delrael would not look up. Mindar had no chance. Vailret was
amazed she still could think or speak. He doubted even the khelebar healer
Thilane, who had created a new
kennok
leg for Delrael, could have saved her.

Bryl hunkered down,
wide-eyed in his fear. Journeyman appeared disappointed that he had not been
able to fight again. Off in the east, behind the lair of Scartaris, dawn light
seeped into the sky.

Delrael propped
Mindar's head up and placed it on his knee. He brushed her singed dark hair
away from the lumpy
S
-scar. It reminded Vailret of how Tallin had died in a
pool of blood while Delrael held him. Delrael stiffened and seemed to realize
the same thing.

"We'll destroy
Scartaris, Mindar." For a moment his face carried enough anger to rival
her own. "And I will have
fun
doing it."

The flow of blood
from her wound slowed, lacking the force of a heartbeat. The last breath out of
her mouth seemed to form one word.

"Luck."

But she did not
die.

Mindar jerked in a
convulsion that ripped through her body. She sucked a long hiss of breath
through her teeth. Vailret's eyes were drawn to the livid
S
-scar on her
forehead. The scar throbbed with a red light, like a twisted channel of lava.

Mindar's skin grew
red, also glowing. Heat poured from her body, and Vailret had to step back.
Delrael stared down. His jaw hung open in surprise; his face was ashen.

The pools of wet
blood on Mindar's skin smoked, bubbled, and burned away from her form, fading
even from her stained clothes. The open gash and splintered ribs clenched
themselves in a staccato spasm, like a mouth smacking its lips, until the wound
congealed, bound together and sealing the skin without leaving a scar.

Her eyelids jammed
shut, and she wheezed a great breath into her lungs.

Her chest rose and
fell. She jerked.

"She said
Scartaris wouldn't let her die," Vailret said. He felt as if a great
weight hung on his shoulders.

Delrael grabbed
Mindar's shoulder, but she was still too hot and he snatched his hand away.

Mindar twitched her
muscles, then rolled over, stumbling to her knees.

Tears streamed from
between her closed eyelids. The
S
-scar continued to glow red. She struggled
to her feet, then turned to face them.

Mindar stood
straight and opened her eyes. She did not move. She made no reaction at all.

Her eyes were blank
white, and pupilless. Scartaris's eyes.

INTERLUDE: OUTSIDE

Tyrone shook his
head with an expression of naive astonishment.

"Man, this is
getting pretty intense. How about we just, uh, take a break for a while? Watch
some TV. I've got all the
Star Trek
movies on tape." He stood up and
looked toward the living room where the television sat switched off like a dull
gray-green eye.

"Shut up and
sit down!" David's voice had a hollow power to it, an alien sound that
caused Melanie to jump.

She frowned and
brought her own anger to the surface. David was doing this just to sicken her,
just to flaunt his disregard for the people of Gamearth. "How can you you
do that to one of your own characters, David?

Didn't you put
Mindar through enough already?"

"She's my
character. I can do what I want with her. It's
fun
." In the globe light
over the dining room table, his smile looked bright and jagged.

"We're playing
this game for
fun
, remember?"

Melanie stared
across the table at him. She felt stronger now, keyed up. It didn't matter what
David did. She had her characters. They were fighting together, she and them.
She had given them Journeyman and the secret weapon she had painted into the
map; Gamearth had brought back the Earthspirits on its own.

"You're
changing, David. What's happening to you? Are you playing Scartaris ... or is
he playing
you
?"

David scowled at
her, but didn't seem to know how to answer. Scott cleared his throat.
"It's getting kind of strange even with you, Melanie. Do you know that
when you play different characters your voice changes? You're even worse than
David. Your eyes get sort of ... funny."

"Yeah,"
Tyrone said, not noticing the thin smear of dip on his chin, "it's like
something out of
The Exorcist
."

"When you're
playing your characters, it's like you're swallowed up in them. Like you don't
even know what you're saying." Scott pursed his lips.

Melanie felt sweat
prickle at the back of her neck. She covered it by reaching for some chips and
stuffing a handful in her mouth. "That's crazy. I know exactly what was
going on. I remember everything we did, like I was
―
"

She paused and
choked a little on her chips. She took a drink from her glass and swallowed
before she finished her sentence. "It's like I was there myself...."

"Do you
see?" David said. "Do you
see?
If we don't end this tonight, we
might never be able to escape from the game! It's coming out, it's taking over.
We've put too much magic in it, and now Gamearth doesn't need us to play anymore!"

"Maybe it's
fighting back against you
―
but I'm trying to save Gamearth. I
don't have nightmares. I have
nice
dreams about the world. I'm not afraid of
it. You are. I'm going to fight you to the end in this battle.

And I'm going to
win. I'm going to save their world, and ours."

David's face looked
pale and waxen. "What if you're wrong?"

Melanie shrugged.
She saw the deep fear behind David's false arrogance.

"If you're
afraid to lose, you should never have started playing in the first place."

"I'll stop you
with the Slave of the Serpent." He cracked his knuckles and looked at the
wide black line on the painted map where he had marked the demon's lair. The
map seemed to be cracked there, exactly along the hex-line.

Puzzled, Melanie
bent over to look at it, but Scott interrupted her.

"She's not the
only one with plans." He drummed his fingertips on the table, then wiped
his glasses on the untucked ends of his shirt. "Hurry up and finish your
turn. We don't have all night."

"We must
learn how to use the Rules to our advantage in
any
situation. That means we
need to train ourselves with every weapon listed in
The Book of Rules
. We
must study role-playing games to enhance our experience and decision-making
capabilities. Gaming doesn't come easy
―
it is a lot of work to
have fun!"

―
Drodanis, speech
to trainees at the Stronghold.

Tareah held the
sapphire Water Stone so that it glinted in the noon light. Her eyes were tired;
her body felt exhausted. But the anger and shock had given way to a clarity of
thought that made her absolutely sure of what she had to do. She felt brave
now.

On top of Steep
Hill, in the burned and splintered ruins of the Stronghold, she turned the
six-sided gem to show each of its facets to the gathered villagers. The smell
of smoke still hung in the air, and the ground at her feet was muddy from the
rain she had summoned to quench the flames.

"My father
Sardun gave me this Stone." To her own ears, her voice sounded gruff and
old. The villagers listened to her now. "He used it to build and maintain
his vast Ice Palace. He used it to control the weather, and to fight against
the dragon Tryos."

She narrowed her
eyes and looked at the other characters, making sure she held their attention.
Tareah had studied the rhetorical techniques used when the ancient Sentinel
Arken tried to convince other Sorcerers to renounce the Transition.

"I am the last
full-blooded Sorcerer woman on Gamearth. That's why Tryos found me so valuable
and kidnapped me. You all know that story. Maybe I haven't been trained enough
in fighting
―
" She drew herself tall, widening her eyes.
"But I have powers, too. Great powers. I will have to train myself how to
use them."

She sensed a
difference
within her as she stood before the villagers.

Tareah could
imagine herself as an old Sorcerer queen, maybe even Lady Maire herself. Her
joints no longer ached, and she didn't feel out of place with the other
characters. The destruction of the Stronghold had shaken her, hammered home the
new turn the Game had taken.