Game Play (34 page)

Here, far beyond
the Sitnaltan technological fringe, water still boiled, did it not? Steam still
rose, did it not?

He set his cup in a
depression on the ground and went to the engine of the car. With both hands, he
grabbed the pistons and pulled them out, pushed them back in. Yes, the pistons
still moved, one cylinder inside the other.

The steam engine
was a simple machine. He knew how it worked. Not a thing could go wrong.

It made no sense.
Nothing got Verne more frustrated than things that
made no sense
. He knitted
his eyebrows and pursed his lips, pacing around and around the steam-engine
car. He grew angry.
There was no reason for it!

His face grew red
with emotion, and he pounded his fist against the side of the boiler.

The Rules he had
made a part of his life were completely arbitrary!

Yes, he had always
accepted that Sitnaltan technology would not function beyond the fringe
―
but when inspected closely,
all
technology was based upon fundamental laws of
nature. Simple principles.

"It's not
fair!" he shouted up, as if the Outsiders were listening. He hoped they
were. He would throw their own arbitrariness back into their faces.

"I am beyond
the technological fringe, yes
―
but what is the reason for this
vehicle not working? Water still boils. Steam still rises. A piston will still
move up and down. Wheels still turn.

"Everything in
this vehicle
must
work, even on the other side of the fringe! I have used
nothing out of the ordinary here. Just boiling water, rising steam, and turning
wheels."

The sky remained
silent and empty.

"You had
better rethink your rules and restrictions."

Verne coughed
because his throat was dry and caked with dust. In annoyance he kicked the
iron-shod wheel of the car with his heel.

The steam engine
sputtered and gasped, surging back to life. Startled by the noise, Verne jumped
out of the way. The vehicle lurched ahead, rumbling along the quest-path by
itself.

Verne blinked and
smiled. His tea sat ready on the ground, but he had no time to go get it. The
vehicle moved farther away, picking up speed. He ran to catch up with it.

By noon the next
day the steam-engine car labored up a slope. The rock outcroppings had gotten
larger and more jagged. Verne had to devote more attention to steering around
sharp boulders and other debris that could cause serious damage to the vehicle.

He began to grow
concerned. The water level was going down in the main boiler, and he had
already used the auxiliary tank. But according to his calculations, based on
data he'd taken from the Sitnaltan detectors, he should be nearing Scartaris.
And the doomsday weapon was still intact.

When the
steam-engine car came to the crest of the hill, Verne looked down over a vast
basin. A hooked line of jagged mountains bordered hexagon upon hexagon of
desolation. Ah, he thought, those cliffs would be where Scartaris dwelled.

But in front of
him, spread out in encampments, was the greatest horde of monsters he had ever
imagined. They seemed unreal to him, all those creatures the Sitnaltans had
ignored for turn after turn.

Verne pulled the
car to a stop and then coaxed it into the shelter of a broken rock outcropping.
The professor dismounted from the car, removed an optick tube from the sidebox,
and peered down at the armies.

He saw marching
angular-faced Slac covered with scales. He turned the field of view to observe
monsters of all kinds, stone gargoyles, hairy brutes, a few ogres, worm-men
sloughing through the broken sand in churned paths, green-skinned and pointy-eared
goblins in their breeder groups.

On his scraps of
paper, Verne noted the main features of each monster he saw, documenting them
for future reference. With his interest in biological matters, Victor
Frankenstein would probably delight in such first-hand observations.

Then Verne realized
that each of these monster soldiers would stand in
his
way, block his passage
to Scartaris. They would want to attack him, capture him, perhaps kill him. He
suddenly considered what might happen if these unpleasant creatures managed to
possess the powerful Sitnaltan weapon.

He and Victor had
not thought of that.

"This could
cause a problem," he muttered to himself.

A direct road led
to the mountains. He saw a wide but steep path heading directly to a great
opening in the flat cliff like a lipless mouth of rock. Strange and oily colors
flashed from inside the broad cavern.

As he expected, the
Outsiders would make the lair of Scartaris wonderfully obvious. Reaching it,
though, would be the primary problem.

He shut off the
boilers in the steam engine, remembering that he had to remain hidden. The car
would make plenty of noise when he restarted it. When he decided to move, he
would have to make all possible speed to his goal and hope he could cover
enough terrain, to get to a place where he could detonate the weapon ... before
the monsters got him.

Verne sat with his
back against the shaded rock and took out his last clean piece of paper. He
jotted down notes to himself, waiting for dark.

"The
Outsiders love to play at warfare with us. They can slaughter characters by the
thousands without risking harm to themselves. But this is
our
Game too, and
we must fight back."

―
General Doril,
memoirs from the Scouring.

Clouds gathered
over Scartaris's mountain, making the sky look like a cooling pool of molten
lead. Overhead wheeled several batlike reptilian creatures. Delrael found the
air thick and hard to breathe.

The Cailee had not
come the night before. Mindar shook her head.

"Scartaris
wouldn't resurrect me without bringing back the Cailee," she said.

"He's just
having his fun."

"I'm not sure
who our true enemy is anymore
―
" Vailret said, "Scartaris,
or the Outsider David."

The Slave of the
Serpent limped and dragged his leg beside them. The wound from Delrael's sword
still bled slow and thick, but Sadic did not complain.

At dusk they
reached another hex-line. Only one more section of terrain separated them from
the end of their quest. The ground grew more broken and jagged, as if Scartaris
had tossed chunks of his mountain like giant dice in every direction.

Behind them the
monstrous black cloud rose up from the ground, near enough to hear clearly now
―
a constant buzzing, squawking turmoil. The cloud pushed ahead like a clawed
hand scooping them toward Scartaris.

At the top of a
rise, Delrael stopped, sheltered by a rock outcropping.

The army of
Scartaris gathered before them on the great plain. "No wonder Scartaris
wasn't worried about us." He swallowed in a dry throat.

By the light of dim
fires in the camps, hideous demons and reptilian things moved in organized
ranks. Tall Slac generals marched about shouting orders. Delrael saw an
occasional hulking stone gargoyle, like Arken. Swarms of small goblins,
green-skinned and hairless, clustered together in their breeder groups.
Guttural grunts and hisses carried out into the still air.

The massive enemy
was preparing to march upon Gamearth. Scartaris had grown tired of waiting. The
Outsider David wanted to ruin the map without further delay.

One gigantic
creature strode through the army, obviously in command. He had a powerful
lion's body, a wicked-looking scorpion-tail that flickered with blue lightning,
and a horned head showing distorted human features. Delrael thought he had
heard of such a creature in the worst old Sorcerer battles, a monster developed
by gamers to be powerful enough to oppose even the great dragons.

"It's a
manticore," Vailret said. His voice sounded thin with fear.

"Toto, I don't
think we're in Kansas anymore," Journeyman said.

Overhead, Lady
Maire's Veil reminded Delrael of green blood spilled across the sky. The
mountains of Scartaris looked like a strange, warped creature made of stone,
rearing its mighty head. Two symmetrical peaks curved upward from the main
mountain, broken and pitted, similar to the horns of a giant bull. On the
central rock face was a yawning grotto, a cavelike overhang that stared out of
the mountain like a cyclopean eye-socket, black and pupilless.

Delrael had to take
the Earthspirits into
that
cavern. It was obvious. He had gone on enough
quests to identify the goal when he saw it. But the entire army of Scartaris
stood ready to stop him. He felt his vision go dark and fuzzy; his breathing
came short.

"The game
ain't over until the fat lady sings," Journeyman said. He blinked his clay
eyelids.

"Sadic will
protect you," the burly Slave said and stood beside Delrael. "You
freed Sadic."

Delrael felt the
silver belt at his waist. All of those monsters, each one intent on destroying
Gamearth, on stopping
him
―
how could he ever take the Spirits
the final distance? "We'd need an army of our own to get past them."

"And any time
it looks as if we might succeed, Scartaris can go through his metamorphosis and
end the Game anyway," Mindar sighed. "Isn't this fun?"

Bryl shuffled his
feet and kept his head down. "I have an idea." He flinched when
everyone looked at him at once. He ran his gnarled hands through the folds of
his cloak and withdrew the Fire Stone and the Air Stone.

"Scartaris
knows we have the Fire Stone, since it was Enrod's," he said, then thrust
the eight-sided ruby back into his hidden pockets. "But I haven't used the
Air Stone yet on this quest. Remember how Gairoth had his army of illusion
ogres at the Stronghold? Gairoth has even less training than I do, and his
Sorcerer blood is tainted."

He took a deep
breath. "My father Qonnar was a full-blooded Sorcerer; my mother Tristane
was a half-breed. I've had some training. If I use up all my spells, I can
create an army for you. A good one."

Delrael pondered a
moment as possibilities came into his head, then he grinned and clapped a hand
on Bryl's shoulder.

"Whatever it
takes," Journeyman said, "The Rulewoman Melanie is counting on
me."

Bryl seemed small
and terrified. "Just remember what I'm going to do, though. It's easy to
think of one or two figures and move them around with my imagination
―
but I'll be keeping track of a thousand different faces, different characters,
all at the same time. Each one fighting, each one moving around like a real
character would."

He blinked his
eyes, looking giddy. "It'll be like role-playing on a gigantic scale! It
must be what the Outsiders do all the time."

Mindar held her
rippled sword and stared at the army below. The expression on her face seemed
explosive. "If you make it look like the monsters are being slaughtered,
that'll certainly ruin their morale."

Delrael saw concern
grown on Bryl's face. "Just remember, my illusions won't cause any actual
damage, though the monsters will
think
they're striking something solid. At
least it'll keep them busy while you slip past to Scartaris."

Bryl huddled
between broken boulders in the shelter of an outcropping.

"I'll need a
place where I can hide and not be disturbed." He wiggled small rocks from
under him, brushed his hands together, then withdrew the four-sided diamond. It
glistened even in the falling darkness.

"I'll cover
myself with an illusion too. But you'd better hurry. With two Stones in my
possession, I can use five spells now and another five after midnight
―
but I don't know how long that'll last. It depends on how I roll."

Mindar's expression
hardened. "We all have to fight to our limits." She turned to
Delrael; her eyes held the burning obsession he had seen there so many times
before.

"But it's time
for truth between us, Delrael. If we're going to fight together against
Scartaris, I need to know what weapon you've got." She fidgeted, then
looked up. "I want to be sure I'm gambling my life on a good chance."

Delrael frowned
down at the ground. He gazed back at Mindar, her high cheekbones, her deep
eyes, the tangled hair that had once been braided behind her head.

"You're right,
Mindar." He turned away, for some reason not wanting to watch her face as
he told his secret. "The Earthspirits want to destroy Scartaris, too. I'm
carrying them with me, in my belt. I have to take them there." He pointed
to the jagged mountains. "They can defeat him."

Journeyman frowned.
"It's not the only weapon we have."

"Are we going
to end this or not?" Bryl said from his hiding place. He stroked the
diamond, staring into its facets. "Let me know when you're ready to
go."

Delrael nodded.
"Luck."