Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels (92 page)

Her gaze dropped to the rich green grass beneath their feet. “Yes. I told you it was different from anything you’ve ever played. But don’t worry. The devs made sure to dial the uncomfortable stuff way back. You won’t feel much pain here.”

“I just wanted to see myself. Check out my gear and stuff.”

“Of course. You can draw your sword and enter combat stance by—” She broke off, laughing, as he found the control movement before she could explain. “Very good.” There was admiration in her voice, and something that sounded like hope.

“It’s just a pull-back. Easy enough.”

He swished the sword through the air a few times, and then re-sheathed it. His shield had immediately appeared, strapped to his left arm, as soon as his weapon was drawn.

She cocked her head and examined him a moment. “Hey, I didn’t know you had green eyes. Your hair is always in your face, you know.”

“Huh. I thought I chose blue.” Hadn’t he? He was sure of it.

“Well, the game still has some bugs. You could say it has a mind of its own.” She laughed again, but there was a forced edge to it. “Ready to quest? As soon as we step out of the fairy ring, the creatures of the world will be able to interact with us. The starting lands are pretty easy to handle, though. And you’ll pick it up quickly, I’m sure.”

“Great. Let’s go.” He took a step forward then, for fun, leaped over the boundary of mushrooms.

This gaming system was really amazing. He no sooner thought of the movement than the sim translated it to his character. There must be some kind of complicated neuro-interface built into the gear. Every other system he’d played had a response-time lag. With his own, he had to rely a lot more on manual commands - specific combinations of hand and finger gestures that sent instructions to the game. This, though, was practically powered by thought alone. It made him giddy.

Jennet stepped out of the ring, her movements graceful, then waved to a mossy path leading between the trees.

“The game begins this way,” she said, starting down the path.

Branches rustled behind them, and Tam whirled, sword at the ready. Nobody was visible, but high laughter chimed from between the leaves.

“Who’s there?” he called.

“It’s just the pixies,” Jennet said. “Don’t worry about them - they’re harmless. Come on.”

Tam sheathed his weapon and followed Jennet between the pale tree trunks. Soon the forest thinned and beyond the tree-line he glimpsed a rise of small green hills. At the very edge of the wood was a house, one of those English-cottage looking places with white walls and a thatched roof. Sitting on the doorstep was the ugliest little man Tam had ever seen.

His nose was enormous, a jutting cliff that overshadowed his dark eyes and thin lips. The only things larger than his nose were his two ears, great ugly flaps of skin on either side of his head. He was covered in a pelt of coarse brown hair, his only clothing a tattered cloth tied about his waist. He smelled, too, like moldy earth and old wood-smoke.

Jennet stopped in front of the creature. A clay bowl filled with what looked like milk appeared between her hands, and she knelt and placed it on the weathered step.

“Greetings, Fynnod,” she said. Then she leaned toward Tam and spoke softly. “He’s a Brownie - they like milk. I’ll try and explain the game lore to you as we go along.”

Tam nodded. “Right.”

“Fair Jennet.” The little man’s voice was hoarse, as though he were unused to speaking. “You return - with a companion. Will you continue further into the realm?”

“Yes,” she said.

Fynnod tilted his head up and looked at Tam. Something murky moved in his eyes. “Knight. Are you brave enough to accept the first quest?”

“Sure,” Tam said.

Every game had its beginner quests. Generally they were pretty easy. They started a storyline, and gave you a chance to practice your abilities and get comfortable in your new surroundings.

The brown man remained silent, and Jennet cleared her throat. When Tam turned to look at her, she nodded her head up and down and mouthed the word
yes
. Oh, right - a role-playing script. RP wasn’t his favorite, but it looked like “sure” hadn’t been coded into Fynnod’s list of acceptable replies.

“Yes, I accept your quest,” Tam said.

The little man let out a cackle. “Very good.” He reached into a lumpy bag beside him. “Take this sieve, and fill it with water from the river. When you return it to me, I will grant you passage to the next level.”

Tam took the object from the Brownie. It looked like an old-fashioned strainer. “Fill this with water, huh?”

Well, he’d had odder quests, but he’d hoped this first one would involve fighting. He really wanted to try out his moves.

Suddenly the sieve disappeared and his sword was in his hand, the blade flashing in the sunshine.

“Ack!” Fynnod leaped up from the step, overturning the bowl in his haste. “Take your cold iron and be gone from me!” He shook his fist at Tam, and then scuttled into the cottage.

“Wait. You didn’t drink your milk—” Jennet said, but the heavy wooden door slammed shut on her words. “Tam.” She turned to him. “You need to be careful. Remember, the game responds to the slightest movements. Were you thinking about battle?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He re-sheathed his weapon. “I didn’t mean to frighten him.”

She frowned. “A lot of the creatures here don’t like iron or steel - your sword affects things just by being drawn.”

“Got it. Easy on the swordplay.” He gestured to the closed door. “Will he be back?”

“No. Not until we return with the quest complete.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t actually done this one before.”

“And the milk?” He glanced at the doorstep. The liquid had seeped into the stone, leaving a dark stain. “Was that bad?”

Jennet didn’t look too happy. “We were supposed to get Fynnod’s blessing. Without it… I’m not sure what will happen.”

She turned to look out over the green hills, and Tam stared at the cottage. He hated feeling like he’d messed things up already. Here he was, usually a prime gamer, and he’d screwed up the first quest. Nice going.

The breeze kicked up, and he turned to look at Jennet. A strand of her pale hair blew against her cheek. From now on he was going to do his best. He wanted to impress her. Wanted her to smile at him again, the way she had when he’d beat Saberclaw, so he could carry the warmth of that inside himself for a little while.

A dark shadow crawled over the landscape, dimming the sunlight. He peered at the hills. Something was coming toward them - fast.

“Tam?” Jennet sounded scared. “We’ve got company.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
he thing in the shadows became clear as it got closer - a huge black horse, galloping toward them. On its back was a forbidding-looking knight, wearing armor as dark as his steed. A wicked helm concealed the rider’s face.

Pulse quickening, Tam set his hand on the hilt of his sword. “First fight?”

Not a pleasant thought - he would feel better if he’d had at least some experience with combat in the game. Frightening the hairy man with his blade didn’t count.

Jennet shifted her grasp on the staff. Her cheeks were pale. “The Black Knight. He… he shouldn’t be here. Usually he’s much deeper in the game.”

“That sounds bad.” He squinted at the approaching rider. “What’s that, in front of the saddle?”

There was a small figure perched on the horse’s neck, seemingly unafraid of either its precarious position or the imposing knight just behind. As they drew close, the creature scrambled forward, using fistfuls of mane to pull himself up until he was nearly standing on the horse’s head.

The thundering of hooves ceased as the Black Knight brought his mount to a halt directly in front of them. The spritely creature riding in front lifted one stick-like arm in a wave, the gossamer tatters of his clothing following the movement.

“Well met, Fair Jennet,” he said in a clear, high voice. He grinned at them from his vantage point, his brown eyes sparkling. “And to this brave yet untried champion. Greetings, Tamlin.”

Tam blinked up at the creature. “It’s, er, Newrin.”

Wasn’t it? Seemed like the character creation in this game was badly bugged. That’s what he got for playing the beta version. Still, it was very weird that the little creature addressed him by name.

“Well met, Puck.” Jennet made a small curtsey, but Tam could see her hands trembling. “What brings you so far from the pleasures of court?”

The sprite folded his arms. “The queen desires to know who has entered the realm. I come with a message - and a warning.”

Behind Puck, the knight sat motionless, as though he were an inanimate object. It was eerie. Usually the devs built in some kind of movement to in-game characters. Maybe they had missed coding this one.

“What message does the queen have for us?” Jennet asked, her voice higher-pitched than usual.

Tam was glad to let her do the talking - she knew the rules, after all. It was good to get a bit of the storyline, even though it seemed disjointed. Was this queen the final boss they would have to defeat to win the game?

“She bids you remember that the realm does not give up its secrets lightly.” Puck leaped, making a sudden somersault from the horse’s head, and caught the top of Jennet’s staff. He clung there, hovering before them, and lowered his impish voice. “It is never simple to regain what was lost.”

“I know.” Jennet sounded way more unhappy than Tam would have expected from a bit of scripted dialogue. “Tell the queen I have come for what is mine.”

She shook her staff, as if to dislodge the sprite, and Puck frowned at her. “Your champion still must prove himself, foolish Jennet.”

“He will,” she said, sending Tam an anxious look.

“Ha!” The sprite laughed, and the sound sent prickles down the back of Tam’s neck. “Then he may do so this instant. Black Knight, I summon thee to battle!”

There was a blur of motion, and suddenly the Black Knight was standing before them, menace emanating from his faceless visor. His black sword hissed out of the sheath, and Tam leaped forward, making sure he was between Jennet and the knight. He drew his own weapon - barely in time. Dark metal clanged against silver, the shock jarring him to the teeth.

The knight feinted left, then thrust forward with a strength that sent Tam stumbling back. Whoa - for a first fight, this game was pretty serious. Behind him, Jennet let out a cry, but all Tam’s attention was focused on his adversary. He had a feeling he couldn’t afford to lose this fight, but how could he possibly win?

He stabbed at the knight, who blocked his sword with a bone-shaking counterstroke. Damn, the guy wasn’t even using a shield. A series of hard blows rained down on Tam. Breath scraping his throat, he fell back under the power of that relentless assault. His shield arm began to ache from the jarring impact of the Black Knight’s blade.

Slowly, the knight pressed forward. None of Tam’s attacks seemed to touch him, though he was pretty sure he’d dented the guy’s armor in a couple places. Tam couldn’t let him get to Jennet. He risked a quick glance at her, to see that she was somehow frozen in a block of clear ice. Her staff was raised and her mouth was open, as if she’d been caught mid-yell.

Clang! Another blow to his shield forced Tam’s attention back to the battle. Ok. This was just an in-game fight. An intense one, sure, but there was a pattern here. Every game had a certain level of predictability, if you paid enough attention.

One, two, three sweeping strikes, then the Black Knight lifted his sword for an overhand slice. It wasn’t the first time the knight had made that series of moves. Tam scrambled out of the way, saving his strength. He wouldn’t attack again until the moment was right - but he still had to keep those deadly sword strokes at bay. He hoped his shield wouldn’t crack under the force of those massive blows.

The knight’s sword slid across his shield, then continued slicing down. Ow! The blade nicked him in the vulnerable area just above his gauntlets. It didn’t feel like a dangerous cut, but it stung. Tam sucked in his breath and kept fighting, kept watching. That combo of moves had to come soon.

Sure enough, after another punishing rain of strikes, the knight began that same series of swings Tam had seen before. This was it - his opening. He backed up and took a firm grip on his sword.

Now! The knight lifted his sword for the overhand attack, and Tam lunged forward with all his strength, the tip of his blade pointed straight toward the Black Knight’s chest.

His sword connected with a hollow thunk, then stuck right in the center of the knight’s armor. The Black Knight froze in place.

Silence descended, marred only by Tam’s ragged breaths. Slowly, he pulled his blade free. It was unmarked by blood, but there was a hole in the knight’s chest plate. Had he won?

“Tamlin,” the Black Knight said, his voice low and grave. “First fight to you.” He raised his sword in a half-salute. Then, just as suddenly as he had dismounted, he was once again astride his horse.

“Well well!” Puck cried, a merry note in his voice. “A fight fairly won.” He gestured at Jennet. The ice block cracked open, and she took a quick, stumbling step forward.