Epic (10 page)

Injeborg shook her head tearfully.

“Ya. And me and Bjorn will be too old next year. We’ve missed our chance to play together. That’s the end of the Osterfjord Players.” B.E. was matter of fact.

“Who have you got to replace me?” Erik asked.

They looked at each other.

“We discussed it, Erik, and we decided only to play in the individual championship. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Injeborg was their spokesperson.

“Ya,” Bjorn said. “Not so fun.”

“You are the one who makes the team. With your passion for the game. It’s not right to play if you are not there,” explained Sigrid. “And in any case we wouldn’t get very far without your swashbuckler. She was to be our surprise weapon.”

“I’m sorry.” Erik was embarrassed by the tears that came to his eyes, and which he found impossible to hide.

“Don’t be sorry, Erik,” said Injeborg. “It’s you that’s important, not the game. In any case, who wants to go away to Mikelgard University?”

 

It was very boring waiting to be allowed home. Although he still had to walk very stiffly, Erik could move around the hospital as he pleased. There were lots of books and toys, but still he was bored. No game compared to Epic and he could hardly bear to think about it, not while the championships were on and he was stuck here.

The morning had been a sad one, as around the world the Epic graduation championships were under way.

Soon after breakfast, Erik was surprised to hear Harald and Thorstein, the Hope librarian, entering his room. Between them they were carrying a heavy box. His dad’s glance was full of excitement.

“Hello, Erik.” Harald put the box down with a grunt.

“Hi, Dad. What’s this?”

“Wait and see. Can we move those things off the table?”

“Surely.”

The wooden box was opened and Thorstein placed a large black metal cube on the table. Then, very gingerly, he lifted a delicate-looking headset from a special fastening in the cube. A pair of gloves followed.

“Into bed, Erik,” instructed his dad.

Thorstein was busy with the cables. “It’s been a long time. I don’t know. I don’t know. Too much to hope,” he muttered aloud as he worked.

“Here.” Harald handed him the headset and gloves. Erik put them on, not daring to ask.

“Now.” Thorstein stepped back. A number of small colored lights were flicking on and off in seemingly random patterns on one side of the cube. The other children in the room who could walk came over and Erik saw a few nurses interrupt their routines to watch. A huge smile spread across Thorstein’s bearded face.

“There. Would you believe it? But I must hurry. I’m due in the library.” Thorstein gave Erik a quick nod and passed him the glasses.

“Quickly now. Can you play as usual?”

A few anxious moments passed while he waited to harmonize, then Erik gasped with pleasure to see Cindella rising from her box. It had been such a long time since he had seen her.

She smiled, seemingly happy to see him again.

“Well?” asked Harald anxiously.

“Yes. Just like in the library.”

“Good. I must go. Good luck!” Thorstein patted Erik on the head and hurried out as fast as his stocky legs could carry him.

“Does this mean I can play in the championships?”

“It does!” Harald was jubilant.

“The team. Do they know? You must get them!”

“They are in the library. We weren’t sure it would work and we didn’t want to make false promises. But they are ready in case.”

“This is magic.” Erik was preparing Cindella to enter her world again. “With this you could play Epic anywhere!”

“Aye. Well, we are lucky we have one working set in the whole of Hope District.” Harald sounded grim for a moment. Then his voice became more cheerful. “So, when Thorstein gets back, he will link you up with the tournament.”

“Erik? What’s that?” asked little Ivarson, the small boy from the bed opposite Erik’s.

Erik partially removed his headset in order to look at the curious face beside his bed.

“Do you know Epic?”

“Of course. My brothers are playing in the championships today.”

“Well, so am I.”

“Oh. That’s good. Can I watch?”

“I don’t know. Can he, Dad?”

Harald smiled. “Certainly, here.” Harald carefully and gently removed another headset from the device. “There are a few public characters that you can occupy to watch events in the amphitheater. They are not full interfaces. Only Erik has that.”

Ivarson clapped. “This is fun! I can watch my brother!”

“Dad?” said Erik. “Can you stay here while I play?”

“Of course I will. As much as I can.”

One of the adults in the hospital came into the room with a stack of chairs.

“You don’t mind if a few of us watch, do you?” She looked at Harald and Erik.

“No.” Erik was pleased.

Harald sat in a chair to test the viewing devices. “This is better than the library.” He sounded delighted. “Much better head motion.”

Chapter 10

HARALD UNMASKED

The sun was
finally down; Svein’s turn as the Executioner was over. It had been an insufferably long waste of time, watching kobold after kobold scurry over the mud flats of the hunting grounds, their shadows lengthening as the sky grew imperceptibly more scarlet. It was pitiful to observe the scuffles between the kobolds and small groups of gray fighters. This kind of fighting was so extraordinarily limited. The players across from him had no idea of the real depths of the game. For a while, Svein had turned his thoughts to his own goal, solving the Epicus Ultima quest. In all his research, Svein had never discovered the origin of the term, but he was convinced that it referred to something real. Several NPCs he had personally spoken to had indicated that Epic contained this ultimate quest, a quest to end all quests; many thought it to be impossible to solve but Svein felt that he was very close to a breakthrough. The threads that led to this goal were many and complex, but considering them simply increased Svein’s frustration at having to waste time on this execution shift. He could be doing something so much more productive.

A tap on his shoulder. Immediately, Svein began to unclip, rubbing the soreness from his ears.

“Anything?” asked Bekka.

“Just hour after hour of people collecting pennies from kobolds.”

Bekka sighed unhappily. “I feel sorry for them. Sometimes I just want to go over and make someone’s day by giving them a ruby or something.”

She saw the stern look on Svein’s face.

“I know. I’m just saying I empathize.”

All at once, Svein smiled, hoping it did not look forced, and reached up to touch her cheek. “I know you do, and that is a most admirable quality in you.”

Pausing only to get a plate of food from the canteen, Svein hurried to his office, avoiding contact with anyone. At last, with the door locked, he could relax and concentrate on his project.

Covering three of the four walls of his office were the tidily arranged spines of books and files. From floor to ceiling, wide shelves held journals, reports, essays, magazines, electronic data, and books. The fourth wall was mostly taken up with an enormous pin-board. As he sat at his desk eating, Svein contemplated the board. Colored pins held pieces of paper to a map of the main game world. Threads of various kinds—including silver and gold ones—ran around the pins, creating a colorful net over the world.

The Epicus Ultima, Svein had realized, could be solved by anyone, each with their own starting point. In his own case, he had made progress on several fronts, only to reach dead ends at certain stages.

Pushing his plate aside, Svein got up and examined the board again. His final entry read simply,
Find the Ethereal Tower of Nightmare
. The objective was simple enough: the Earl of Snowpeak had asked him to release from the tower the soul of his kidnapped daughter; her body lay in suspended animation in Snowpeak Castle. No doubt the essence of the girl was held in captivity by some magic device or creature. But the really interesting aspect of this quest was his only other reference to the tower, which described it as containing the “ultimate lock.”

What would happen if he completed the Epicus Ultima had been only hinted at by NPCs, but he would most likely gain some extraordinarily powerful magical item or weapon. What interested Svein, though, was not the prize, but the challenge. By solving the Epicus Ultima, Svein would instantly become the most famous player ever.

However, although he now had his most promising lead ever—this reference to the Ethereal Tower—he had still come up against a very stubborn dead end. Nobody knew where this Ethereal Tower was to be found. The Earl of Snowpeak had said only that priests had performed their most powerful auguries, and all they could see of his daughter’s soul was that it had been taken to a place called the Ethereal Tower of Nightmare, where she lay dreaming, near the world’s end. No spell had been able to help, nor the thousands of NPCs whom Svein had asked. Every librarian in the world had been alerted to the problem and monitored their localities for news of the tower—knowing that Svein would reward information with resources or promotions. Throughout his tenure as librarian, Svein had always been careful to keep the local librarians as well looked after as he could, despite opposition from other members of the committee. If anyone could complete the Epicus Ultima, surely it was Svein, with his access to a thousand sources of information. The problem was that players were so unadventurous these days that only a feeble trickle of new information was arriving from the provincial libraries. Svein might achieve better results by encouraging the university students to look for the Tower—but he had to tread a fine line. Giving information away was dangerous, especially if some precocious student somehow got a lucky break and ended up ahead of him.

A timid knock on the door disturbed him.

“What?” Svein shouted angrily.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” came the voice of student. “A Special Session of the Committee has been called and is convening now.”

“Very well.”

Curiosity overcame his annoyance. There must be a new development. Perhaps the Executioner had found its target and that business could be laid to rest?

 

Most of the committee members were there ahead of him, and the hum of good-natured conversation rose towards the high, transparent ceiling; there were even a few smiles as Svein took his seat. As if to match the humor of those at the table, outside a bright sun and racing clouds created a patchwork of color over Mikelgard. Occasionally the swift moving rays of light passed directly over them, causing the whole room to sparkle and warm.

“Good news?” Svein asked his neighbor, Wolf.

“I think so.” Wolf nodded his heavy head. “Godmund called the meeting.”

Svein looked across at the old man. Certainly his blue eyes were alive with eager animation.

With Bekka’s arrival, the meeting could begin. Hleid immediately called upon Godmund to speak.

“My researchers have done well and spared us a lot of bother. Harald Erikson is none other than Olaf the Swift.”

Several of the members gasped. Svein glanced quickly at Ragnok, whose face was flushed. Uncomfortable memories no doubt.

“Of course!” exclaimed Halfdan the Black. “No wonder they did so well.”

“Hmmm. It was not so obvious—he kept himself hidden for twenty years. But not all of us had forgotten.” Godmund was clearly very pleased with himself. “Eh, Ragnok?”

Again that rare blush on Ragnok’s face.

Lifting up the sheet in front of him, Godmund read aloud, “Olaf the Swift was exiled for striking another student of the University, the only other person training as an assassin, none other than our very own Ragnok Strongarm. Perhaps you can tell us more about this opponent of ours?”

“Th-there is no need,” Ragnok stuttered angrily. “All that matters is that the opposition is over. Remove him to exile again and that’s the end of it.”

“Not quite,” Svein mused aloud.

“Go on,” invited Hleid, gesturing towards him with the arm of her glasses.

“If those who harbored him knew he was under sentence of exile, then they too must go.”

“Svein, don’t be cruel. For all we know, he has a family now. Do you want them to suffer more than this blow?” Bekka was looking at him, astonished.

“They might prefer to go with him.”

“Then let it be their choice and let us not force them.” Bekka looked rapidly around the table for support.

“Legally Svein is right.” Godmund intervened again. “If anyone was knowingly harboring him, they must be exiled too. Otherwise our whole system is called into question.”

“And that might include more members of their team, if we are lucky!” Halfdan was jovial, his shiny face red and amused looking.

“Please,” grunted Wolf, clearly less than pleased with Halfdan’s attitude. “This is a professional and not a personal matter. Who cares about that setback in the arena in the light of this development? Let us send a judge to Hope to enforce the exile and make inquires as to whether other people were involved.”

“Agreed?” Hleid checked for assent around the table. “Good.” She gathered up her silver hair and tied it back, while checking the paper in front of her. “Svein, it is your duty to alert the librarians to this news. I take it we can leave the wording of the decree to you.”

“Indeed.”

“In that case, we have one other piece of business.” Hleid’s thin mouth tightened, and her wrinkled forehead indicated the severity of the matter. “The latest edition of the
New Leviathan
.”

For a few minutes there was silence as the paper was passed around the room and the committee members studied it. The cheerful atmosphere of the committee dissolved.