“Are you just going to sit there staring at me?”

“For once, I honestly don’t know what to say. What you’ve been through is truly tragic. And I take it your mother has not improved.”

“She has not. I haven’t seen her since then. I’ve seen my father rarely at functions that we’ve both attended, but none of those were here. This is my first time home since the day I left.”

“Do you miss it?”

“For a long time I did. But then I had Chari and that was enough. She wasn’t the easiest child to deal with, but maybe that’s what I needed. I had been living in my own head for too long. Chari was the one who brought me out of it.”

“I’m sorry that all this happened to you. I’m glad something finally brought you out of it. But I’m still not clear why you are worried about seeing your mother. Do you think she might attack you?”

“No. But I also don’t think she’s forgiven me for not choosing Iorana. And honestly, I don’t need to deal with any of this right now. I have places to be. I have things to do. My mother should be the least of my concerns.”

“That’s not the way concerns work. If you feel something strongly, it becomes your concern. What you need is closure. You won’t get it if you don’t talk to her. It will sit there inside you and fester.”

“You sound as if you’re talking from experience.”

“This is not about me. And I won’t let you change the topic, even if you find it uncomfortable. It’s time to talk to your mother. Not just stand there and ignore her while she talks at you.”

“My father said I shouldn’t upset her.”

“Your father doesn’t know how you feel and how much you hurt. You haven’t told him. Maybe he would say something different if he did know.”

“He’s very protective of her.”

“It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about you. You’re well. Your mother is not. We often focus on those that need our help most. You didn’t show him your pain, so he doesn’t think you need him.”

“Well, I’m not going to show him my pain now either. I’m the ambassador to the high king.”

“That you are. So are you going to be sidelined by this side show? Or will you face it head on and move on to our next destination.”

“How are you like this? It’s like you’ve found the Book of Lost Wisdom.”

Jerish chuckled. “Sometimes, I think I wrote it.”

“I guess we’ll go find my father and visit my mother. Are you coming?”

“Of course I am. I can hardly guard your body if your body is away from me.”

He stood up, and Rhea took a step toward him and gave him a brief hug. It was the first time she had ever hugged him. He was smaller and thinner than Leonid, but he had a wiry strength beneath his slender frame. She knew he was deceptively strong. She wondered what other secrets he hid.

They left the room together, and walked side by side, though neither said a word. She returned to the banquet hall, where her father was just finishing up talking to a noble she didn’t recognize. Her father noticed her almost immediately and gave her a half nod. So she walked over to the tables where people usually ate, and sat on one of the benches. Jerish sat across from her.

When he had concluded his business, King Lynx walked over.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“You seem calmer.”

“I am. Let’s get this over with.”

The king arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Instead he led them through the palace. They didn’t head toward the main gardens, but rather to a smaller courtyard that the Queen tended personally. She had done so as long as Rhea could remember. When they finally reached the place, Rhea steeled herself before entering. And then she took a step forward, both physically and emotionally.

The woman before her was so different from the woman who Rhea thought of as her mother, she might have been a stranger.

It wasn’t just that she was older. Queen Raven had once been a beauty. The contrast between how she had been then and how she was now, brought home just how sick her mother was. She was wraith thin, her fair skin now almost white, as if all the color had been leeched out of her, and the wrinkles weren’t limited to just her eyes or the corner of her mouth. Her hair was white as well and cut short. Even her beautiful green eyes seemed to have dimmed. To Rhea she looked like a woman ready for Se Karn’s visit. Perhaps the only way to help her was to guide her to the next step on her journey. The god of death would do that for her. Iorana certainly hadn’t done anything.

“Hello, mother.”

“Rhea. Just in time.”

“In time?”

“Yes, I was expecting you.”

Rhea held back a sigh. “Of course you were, mother.”

Her mother had only glanced at her and returned her focus to the seeds she had been planting. “I know you don’t believe me when I say things like that, but it’s true. I knew you would be here.”

“How did you know?”

“The chirkir told me, of course.”

Coincidence? Possibly.

“Mom, how do you know about the chirkir?”

“I talk to them all the time. They’re very interesting. You shouldn’t spend long though. You have many kings to speak with.”

“What do you know about that?”

Rhea couldn’t remember the last time she was interested, truly interested, in something her mother had to say, but she was now.

“The gods chose wisely when they chose you, my daughter. You will gather them all, and King Terrence will lead them.”

Rhea relaxed. It was something she’d heard from one of the spies.

“But be careful of your bodyguard. He is not what he seems.”

Rhea looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

Her mother smiled. “I don’t think I should say. I know he shouldn’t say. But he will protect you, you can count on that.”

“Jerish is merely a servant. What can he do that my own household guards can’t.”

“Rhea, why would Leonid assign a mere servant to protect you. Does that make sense to you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then obviously there must be more to this servant than meets the eye.”

“Mother, how can you know these things?”

“I told you. I talk with the chirkir.”

“For how long?”

“Since the accident. It’s one of the reasons that your father and I decided not to seek treatment.”

Rhea spun to face her father. “You chose not to treat her? From the beginning?”

King Lynx looked uncomfortable, but he wasn’t defensive when he answered. He was the king, he had made a decision and that was how it was. “Yes, Rhea. We chose. Your mother and I together.”

“Why?”

“Because the information she got from talking to the chirkir was too great an advantage to ignore. We have prospered greatly because of it.”

Rhea tried to calm herself. She tried to imagine what it might have been like to be them, in the situation they were in. “I can’t believe this. All my life I’ve been denied a mother because she was getting useful information?”

“Rhea,” said King Lynx, “It’s not like that. Your mother didn’t want the treatment. And yes, I did want information she had access to, but the situation is quite a bit more complicated. We chose to name you after the Rhea because it is a flightless bird. We wanted you firmly grounded in reality. We wanted you to defend yourself aggressively. We wanted you to defend your territory. These are all qualities of the Rhea. Now is the time for you to ground yourself in reality. Your mother knew today was coming since her accident. She knew that you would be the high king’s ambassador and that a great war was coming.

“Your mother sought Iorana’s advice and Iorana suggested that her communion with the chirkir could be a determining factor in the fate of the kingdom. This we could not ignore. As much as I miss the woman your mother had been, I have come to love the woman she is. But the chirkir minds are old and deep and her connection to them has removed her from our reality.”

Rhea scowled. “So all the years I thought she was insane, she was telling the truth?”

Queen Raven was the one to answer. “No, Rhea. I was speaking a truth. But you weren’t equipped at the time to understand.”

“And now?”

“Now you are, or I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Rhea forced herself to relax. “I need to process this.”

“No, Rhea, you don’t,” said her mother. “You need to move onto your next stop, because war is coming, and we are behind schedule. When do we leave?”

Rhea blinked. “What do you mean we?”

“I’m coming with you, Rhea.”

“Like hell. How do you expect me to function…”

“I won’t be a bother. And I might be able to help. In fact, I’m sure your chirkir won’t be going anywhere if I’m not standing on him when you leave.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Many true things are.”

Rhea opened her mouth to speak, closed it. She pressed her lips together until her mouth formed a thin line, evidence of her desire to restrain her reaction. After all these years, she was still concerned for her mother’s welfare.

Rhea wanted to protest, but if her mother really was speaking to the chirkir, then she was probably right.

“I had hoped to spend some time here.”

“At what cost,” asked her mother. “How many lives will be lost if you wait another hour. How many more if you waste two. You have been given a great responsibility, my daughter, even as I have. Providence requires sacrifices from the both of us. Will you not bear the burden placed upon you?”

“You know I will.”

Her mother smiled, proudly. “I have ever known. Thank you, my daughter. I know life has been hard for you, but it has been in the service of a great cause. A cause you are now part of. If you focus on anything focus on that.”

Rhea dropped her head, so her mother wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. After all these years, finally, her mother had acknowledged her. Perhaps that was all she needed. When she managed to get herself under control, she looked up.

“I guess you should get packed.”

“I’m already packed. It’s time for us to go.”

Her father motioned to the door leading back inside the palace, and Rhea walked resolutely toward it.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

Her father shrugged. “I honored your mother’s request. What else would you have me do?”

Rhea had no answer to the question.

*

When Dahr had first learned of the existence of threads, his entire world had changed. The way the threads seemed to run through everything had opened up his world in ways he couldn’t yet explain, and yet he also knew there was so much more. It was as if a layer of reality had been peeled back, revealing the inner workings that existed just beneath the surface. It was something no human should be able to see, but when he dismissed the threads, he immediately missed them.

He’d only had the ability to read the threads for a matter of hours, and already his world was so different, he couldn’t imagine his life without them. They brought everything around him into a context he could never have grasped before he’d first seen them.

Yet when he used his new skill, Thread Reader, his experience was so profound, it was almost as if the threads he had been seeing were just a pale imitation of what really existed beneath the veil, and that the original threads were worthless in comparison. The new skill raised his perceptions as much as first seeing the threads had. Perhaps it was because the first skill he received was fifth level, but it seemed overwhelming for his very first skill.

The threads were there, like before, but they were changed now. They weren’t solid colors, or mostly solid colors. Each thread was the product of innumerable other threads, twining about each other to tell a unique story. Even trying to see more than one of these threads at a time made his head ache. The amount of information each thread held staggered him.

He dismissed all the threads, except the one he shared with Eric. Starting with something familiar gave him the reference points he needed to understand. In Eric’s thread he could see his own thread as well as Chari’s, Striker’s, Kalutu’s, King Terrence’s and Queen Treya’s. There were others too, many others, but he couldn’t immediately identify most of them. He could see how they intertwined, reacted to each other, as if the threads themselves were alive. He could see where Striker had betrayed them, and where she had parted ways with them as well. It was all there for him to read, though he could only comprehend it because he had experienced it and could find correlation between what he was seeing and what he knew had happened.

If he looked deeper into the thread, he could even find the day he and Eric had met. It was all there for the taking. Reaching back that far, however, made him feel ill, so he immediately retreated to the present and, when that didn’t help, dismissed the thread entirely. Note to self, don’t look too far into the past.

Eric was watching him again, which seemed to be his brother’s favorite past time.

“What?” he asked.

Eric shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re doing, but I am curious.”

“The situation hasn’t changed. It’s still not something I’m ready to talk about. I obviously leveled, but you knew that already. Beyond that, there are too many people nearby who are too curious about my class, so I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to…and I don’t want to. Not yet.”

Eric nodded in understanding. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be trying to work it out.”

Dahr shrugged. “Knock yourself out. But I’m confident you’re wasting your time.”

“It’s my time to waste. It’s not like I have anything else to do right now. Well that’s not completely true. I do have something I need to work on.”

“Oh?” said Dahr.

“Too many outsiders listening,” said Eric, grinning.

Dahr laughed. “Okay, okay. Well, good luck with it. Maybe when we finally get away from our captors, we can catch up. It would be nice to know what you’re up to.”

“I’m right here,” growled Eldiss.

“Yes,” said Dahr. “That’s the reason we can’t really talk to each other. You should probably pay more attention.”

Aisha burst out laughing, and Eldiss gave her an indignant look before joining her. Anyone else watching wouldn’t have seen two servants of the Undead King taking their prisoners toward one of the most dangerous places on the planet. They’d instead have seen what looked like a family on an outing. The thought amused Dahr.

He resummoned the thread that linked him to Eric and went back to examining it. It was all there. Everything Eric had ever done. Everything he was. Every relationship he had ever had. It was Eric. Was he somehow seeing Eric’s soul and all its connections? He didn’t really know, but it seemed like a possibility.

Dahr looked up at Eric and chuckled. So much for working. While he was busy trying to figure out how to use his new skill, Eric must have dozed off. He went back to studying the thread, but there was something different about it. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And then, he realized what was going on.

Eric’s body was here, but his soul was not. Eric had embarked on a soul journey.

They really needed to find a way to talk to each other without Eldiss and Aisha hearing them. They had so much to talk about.

*

This was the first time Eric had entered Danny’s body while the boy was awake. He found himself staring at the screen watching some sort of… he tried to figure out what he was watching, gave it up as a lost cause and looked around. Suzanna sat on his bed, looking at something he had never seen before.

“What’s that?” he asked.

She started. “Sorry, I’m still not used to Danny talking.”

Eric didn’t remind her that he wasn’t Danny again. He understood what she was saying. “What’s that?”

“It’s called a notebook computer. It’s like the tablet but more…powerful. I borrowed it from Mrs. Bradsworth. She said I could keep it as long as I wanted. I downloaded the free to play version of The Undead Wars, and spent the day doing research. The whole thing is pretty amazing.”

“I think I understood every other word of what you just said.”

“Okay, I’ll slow it down, but there’s a lot to cover. This game is an MMORPG, or a massive multi-player on line role-playing game. That is, it’s a game where you play a character in some other world, with a bunch of other people at the same time. They’re sitting in their houses like you, but the characters you play can interact in the world.”

“That’s crazy. I guess it gives the nobles something to do.”

“The nobles?”

“Sure, the ones who can afford to have one of those.” Eric pointed to the notebook.

“Eric, most families have a computer these days, not just nobles. Anyone can buy something like this. I mean there are more expensive and less expensive ones, but this isn’t something just for rich people, even if there are some poor people who might not be able to afford one. They’re a minority right now, at least in this country.”

Eric looked shocked. “But it’s so powerful.”

“Maybe, but it’s also sold in stores everywhere. Children use them to do school work. Teenagers play games on them, and not just rich ones. Businesses buy them by the dozens or even hundreds so their workers can work on them. They’re not cheap, but they’re not that expensive either.”

“Okay. So I have to reset some of my assumptions. Got it. Sorry to interrupt.”

Suzanna got off the bed and walked over to him. She looked him right in the eye. “Eric, you’re in a different world— one that you know almost nothing about. You’re going to have questions, and you should ask them.”

Eric nodded. “Okay. Just let me know if I’m becoming a pain.”

Suzanna smiled. “I know you say you’re not Danny, and I know you’re not too, but just seeing Danny talk…it’s like magic to me. You can never talk enough to annoy me.”

“Maybe. But I bet if Dahr were here, he could.”

Suzanna laughed. “Come look at this.”

She picked up the laptop and carried it out of the room. Eric followed. He had passed through this part of the house when he’d arrived, but overwhelmed as he was, he hadn’t gotten a good look at it. He was in a hallway with a few doors. They walked across it and went through the open door.

“This is my bedroom. I sleep across the hall from Danny in case he needs me during the night. We’re pretty much alone in the house right now. There’s a maid and a cook, but you probably won’t see them. You may not need a lot of money to own a computer, but that doesn’t stop Mrs. Bradsworth from being pretty close to a noble. She has a staff that cares for the house. Her husband often travels on business trips. She herself has many commitments and responsibilities. She helps run more than one company and has invested in any number of businesses. That leaves me to take care of you alone much of the time.”

“Convenient,” said Eric.

Suzanna’s room was unremarkable. There was a bed, a desk with an odd looking chair in front of it, a wardrobe, a dresser and a pair of small tables on either side of the bed. Suzanna placed the notebook on the desk, then walked across the room and picked up a flat metal object that was leaning against the wall, that she opened into a chair. Eric looked at it. It wasn’t magic, just the way it was designed. She saw him staring.

“It’s a folding chair.”

“That’s very cool.”

“Is it? Yes, I suppose it would be. I think I have to adjust my thought process on what I need to explain to you and what I don’t.”

She set up the folding chair by the desk and sat in the bigger chair.

“Get comfortable, we have a long day ahead of us.”

Eric sat down, wondered how he was supposed to get comfortable on what was essentially a metal plate, and stared at the screen, which displayed a number of little squares in neat rows.

“I have the game ready to go, but first… this is a computer. A notebook computer is just a very small portable computer. There are bigger ones as well. This one has the benefit of being something you can carry around.”

Eric studied the device, while Suzanna gave him a brief rundown of the keyboard, the screen, what icons were, essentially a computer literacy course. She had a mouse and a bigger monitor already on the desk, and she hooked the notebook to them now, so that it would be easier for Eric to see.

Eric played with the mouse in fascination. How could this not be magic? There was so much he didn’t understand. But he didn’t have much time to play around, because Suzanna was waiting to show him The Undead Wars. A game. He still couldn’t wrap his brain around that.

“As I said I’ve already downloaded the game, that means I’ve put it on this computer. It’s here ready to go. You just have to double-click the icon to start it.”

Eric moved to the indicated icon and after a couple of attempts, opened the game. After a few seconds the screen changed to a picture of a dark castle in the middle of a barren waste with the words The Undead Wars scrawled across it, as if it were written in blood. Eric wanted to touch the screen, but Suzanna grabbed his wrist.

“It’s just an image. A painting if you will. You really shouldn’t touch the monitor. It’s hard enough to keep it clean.”

Eric withdrew his hand, and then the screen shifted. The new image said character creation at the top. And beneath it were the words, “choose your race”.

“You can play five races.”

“I want to play human,” said Eric immediately.

“Why? If you can play anything, why would you play human?”

“Because I am human.”

“That’s the point of playing a fantasy game though. You can do things you wouldn’t be able to do otherwise.”

Eric smiled wryly. “But I’m not playing a game. I’m trying to get information. If I ever actually wanted to play the game for fun, I might try another race. Let’s stick with human for now.”

Suzanna looked thoughtful. “I keep forgetting how smart you are.”

Eric clicked on human and two icons appeared.

“Do you want to play a male or a female?”

“Why would I play a female?” asked Eric

“A lot of men who play these games do. In fact, when I used to play video games, there was a meme going around the internet saying that MMORPG stood for many men on-line role-playing girls.”

“What’s a meme?”

“It’s a… never mind it’s not important.”

Eric started to protest, realized it most likely didn’t matter and clicked on the male character. He tried to make it look more or less the way he looked in real life, but didn’t spend much time on it. When he clicked next he got to choose a class. This was easier. He chose warrior without much thought. Then the game asked him to choose a name.

He typed ‘Eric of Twyl’ into the box that had appeared.

“This name is already in use.”

“Someone is using my name!”

“Just make up a name.”

Eric sighed. “Fine.”

Ten minutes later, after trying a wide variety of names, he couldn’t find one that wasn’t taken.

“What’s the point of this?” asked Eric in frustration. “I can’t finish making my character until I think of a decent name.”

“The easy names are always taken in games like this,” said Suzanna. “Try something a bit more creative.”

He typed Gerrick into the box. “At least that had Eric in it.”

“That name is already in use.”

Eric sighed. He spent another five minutes, before he settled on a name.

“You’re not really going to use that are you?”

“Why not? Is there any reason not to?

“No, I suppose not.”

“You said I should be creative,” said Eric. “Literally Gerrick is a good name. And it still has Eric in it.”

Suzanna shook her head and pointed, “The opening cinematic. Let’s watch.”

The screen turned black and an image formed of a great, barren waste. Smoke rose from vents in the blackened ground and rocky outcroppings sprouted from the surface of the world like boils. Then a woman’s voice started to speak.

“Over twelve hundred years ago, the Undead King rose in the Plains of Xarinos. The undead who already roamed the plains had never had a king before, and they flocked to his banner. The Undead King grew his kingdom one fallen soldier at a time, until he had an army so big, the rulers of nearby kingdoms started to fear him.”

The image had been changing all long to match the narration. The Undead King himself was portrayed only as a giant shadow of a man, with a crown made of black smoke on his head. He looked terrifying to Eric, who wondered how such a powerful being could ever really be defeated. But the narration wasn’t over yet.

“Death’s Doorstep sent soldiers into Xarinos, their only job to cull the undead herds, which they did with alacrity.

The image was now soldiers on horseback riding across a barren plain, killing and burning groups of undead.

“And in his palace, the Undead King saw the destruction of his people and grew angry. And so he summoned his armies and they road forth from Xarinos with only one thought. Vengeance for those fallen. In a short time, most of Death’s Doorstep had been taken. The Undead King’s minions occupied the shattered city/state and waited for the world to respond… and respond they did.

“The world’s armies answered the call and gathered into a force large enough to drive the Undead King back to the Plains of Xarinos, but they could not follow for fear of dying and becoming one of the enemy’s minions.

“For fifteen long years the stalemate continued. The forces of men gathered their troops in the newly renamed Final Hope, while the Undead King built his forces to take the fight back to those who had done him wrong. One final battle for complete control of Thysandrika. One final foray during which the Undead King would triumph or fall. One final test of humanity’s resilience.

“The Second Undead War starts now.”

Eric gasped. Suzanna turned to him just as the game went into a load screen.

“What is it?”

“The second undead war is starting. I have to find a way to warn my father.”

Suzanna started to chuckle. Eric frowned at her reaction, but she placed her hand on his and spoke softly.

“Eric, this is just a game. What you saw just now, is an animation that countless people have been seeing for years. This isn’t a message to you. Three years ago, if you bought this game, you’d have seen the same thing.”

Eric tried to understand. “So the second Undead War is not starting now?”

Suzanna thought for a second. “I don’t know how this game is connected to your world, or even if it is, but I do know that it’s been around for a while, and this is the introduction video since it launched. I know because during my research I watched it on You Tube. Nothing this game said is being said to you personally. Millions of people have already seen this video. If the second undead war was starting because of this, you’d already have known about it.”

“I don’t get this at all,” said Eric. “There has to be a connection. Otherwise, why am I here?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that what you see in this game won’t directly transfer to your reality. What you’re seeing here is just a game. Why or how it exists is another question. That doesn’t mean you won’t get some clues playing it, but it could be that you’ll just be playing a game, after all. The good news is, from all reports, it’s a pretty good game.”

She smiled reassuringly and Eric relaxed. “I don’t mind telling you, that really scared me.”

“I’d have warned you if I’d thought about it. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. This has to be as weird for you as it is for me.”

The game had started and Eric’s character, Literally Gerrick, was standing in the middle of a street that might have been anywhere but looked a lot like Rish to Eric.

“I’ll control it,” said Suzanna. “It’ll take you too long to learn how to, considering we don’t really know how much time you have before you’ll wake up. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“What are we supposed to do?” asked Eric.

“Do you see the green star over the head of that NPC over there?”

“NPC?”

“Sorry, non-player character. It’s controlled by the game, not a person.”

“Oh, okay. So what does the green star mean?”

“It means we’re supposed to talk to them.”

“How?”

“You use the keyboard to move your character to them, and click interact or press the key on the keyboard to interact.”

“Okay,” said Eric, uncertainly.

Suzanna showed Eric the WASD keys briefly as she walked toward the NPC. She pressed F to interact and the NPC, who’s name was Ito Kuri, spoke. Though text appeared on the screen, the character was fully voiced.

“There you are. I know you’re disappointed that we couldn’t afford the donation so you could transition at the Temple of Sheba, but there are other ways. Pray to her, my boy. Perhaps she will speak to you. Not every person with a class gets it through the temple after all.”

Eric watched as his character replied. “It just seems wrong, that’s all. Only rich people are guaranteed to get a class. It’s not fair.”

“No, son, it’s not, but don’t let that stop you. Pray to her son. She is the goddess of honor, and I have raised you to be honorable. Go to your room, and pray. Sheba may yet answer your prayers.”

Literally Gerrick sighed and turned toward the house. A green arrow appeared pointing to the door. Suzanna interacted and it opened, then she walked inside.

There were children inside. Four of them. Eric stared at the screen, completely thrown off by that. It was a wealth of children. He didn’t even know anyone with two children and here were four in the house. If he was one of them, and if Ito Kuri was his characters father, they had five children. Just seeing them running around and acting like children brought a tear to his eye. This might have been what his world would have been like if it weren’t for Larish, the alchemist who’s experiments had cost the lives of so many children.

Suzanna didn’t seem to notice his reaction and instead followed the green arrow to the stairway and then up to what he thought to be his room. There were three sleeping mats there, one of which had a star. When she clicked the star, his character knelt and prayed. And then a voice filled the room and it was so much like Sheba’s, for a second Eric wondered if she was actually talking to him.

“Hello, my child. I know you wished to transition in the temple, but we can not always have what we want in this life. Still, you have served me well, and I would be honored to call you my soldier. I know you, child, and I accept your service.”

Literally Gerrick smiled and said, “Thank you, my goddess. I will do my best to serve you for all the days of my life.”

“I know you will. You have earned a class. You are now a Level 1 Warrior. New skill unlocked, Swipe.”

“Thank you,” said Literally Gerrick

Eric turned away from the screen.

“Are you okay?” asked Suzanna.

“Whoever made this game, they know Sheba. They’ve talked to her. That was Sheba’s voice. At least, it was too close to be a coincidence. It doesn’t make sense.”

“You’ve talked to Sheba?”

“I have. That’s how she sounds.”

Suzanna looked thoughtful. “That sounds unlikely to me. Are you suggesting the person who made this game has been to your world?”

Eric shook his head. “Maybe. But you can scry something without being there. Perhaps the person who made the game can see into my world somehow.”

“Maybe,” said Suzanna doubtfully. He couldn’t blame her skepticism. The whole thing seemed preposterous to him.

“Do you want to keep playing?”

“Yes. We need to figure out what’s going on.”

There was a knock on the door in game. The arrow clearly indicated you were meant to be the one to answer the door, so Literally Gerrick went downstairs to see who was outside. To Eric’s surprise, he recognized the NPC immediately.

“That’s Veloran! Pretty good likeness.”

“Veloran?”

“The High Priest of Sheba. I don’t mind telling you, this is really weird. I’ve been through some strangeness in the past month, but this…I don’t understand how this is possible.”

“Nor do I. Any of it. You being inside of Danny’s body—it’s like a fantasy novel itself.”

I have no idea what that is.”

“Actually, it’s probably not plausible enough for a fantasy novel. Do you want to continue?”

“Yes, please.”

Suzanna interacted with Veloran and again, when he spoke, it sounded very much like him to Eric.

“The goddess wishes you to accompany me to the temple. We have much to talk about.”

With that he turned and walked out, and Suzanna followed.

“You should close the door,” said Eric.

“What?”

“If you leave it open, anyone can just walk in.”

“Eric, it’s a game. No one can just walk in because it doesn’t exist.”

“Are you sure?”

Suzanna looked thoughtful, then went back and clicked on the door. Then she hurried to catch up to Veloran, but she didn’t have to. He had stopped to wait for her and didn’t start moving until she’d caught up.

*

Ressssen studied the scroll before her as she had each time they had stopped to rest. On it was the instructions on how to learn to cast the Ice Storm spell. Instructions, of course, was the wrong word entirely. Learning how to cast a spell was different from learning how to bake a cake. Anyone could follow a recipe and cook something. But learning how to cast a spell was different.

Instructions on how to cast spells were more appropriately called study aids. The theory was that most people could cast simple spells, but you needed a very disciplined mind to cast more complex spells. You didn’t exactly follow a prescribed or ritualized guideline that let you cast it. You used the knowledge provided to understand how to unlock the power within yourself. The concept was difficult to share with new mages, let alone people who didn’t have any background in the craft.

For example, a new mage might memorize every syllable and gesture of every spell, and by emulating another doing it exactly might attain the same results. Useless in many cases, because if using Ice Storm in a battle required precious minutes to cast, you’d likely be killed before finishing, unless there was a very strong team of people protecting you.

But a more experienced practitioner wouldn’t need to do that. Casting a spell, more than anything, was a trick of the mind. Spells weren’t cast with your mouth or hands. They were cast with your mind and your soul. The study aid told you how to trick your mind and soul into finding that path within that allowed you to unlock the knowledge that presumably was already inside you. It allowed you to forgo pretty much all the steps, including the vocal component if you were good enough. Ressssen wasn’t.

She could shorten those vocal components after she learned a spell, but she still needed to speak a few words or in a couple of cases a single word to trigger her mind to find that hidden cache of knowledge. Learning a spell was like learning to consciously use your unconscious mind to talk your soul into cheating reality. That was how one of her mentors had explained it, and to Ressssen that made perfect sense. To most others she’d met, not so much.

This particular spell was in some ways similar to the ice magic she already knew. The power requirements were higher, and the scope of the spell was more complex, but she was opening a door to a dimension she was familiar with, or at least her soul was. It would be a while, even after learning the spell, that she would be able to internalize it to the point where it would be useful in a real battle. It was like trying to get a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye, that was and wasn’t there at the same time. If you turned your head just fast enough, or looked at just the right angle, the reality you needed to cast it would reveal itself.

What made this hard was the complexity of what her mind needed to do. The longer spell casting instructions just focused her mind on each part of it, but once it became second nature, she wouldn’t need the study aid at all. That was what every mage was looking for when learning to cast a spell. Casting it the first time wasn’t really an issue. Casting it with a reduced vocal component and no somatic component was the goal.

She realized her mind had strayed from the material she was studying and returned her attention to it. Or that had been her plan, until she sensed rather than saw Maynor approach.

She sighed inwardly but turned her head to watch him as he got closer. He smiled when he realized she’d noticed him, but it was an uncomfortable smile, hinting that what he might have to say might not be pleasant, not that she expected it to be. Their quarry continued to move day and night, while they needed to stop for rest and meals. There was no way they could catch them, and everyone knew it.

“How’s it going?” he asked, gesturing to the scroll in her hands.

“About as I expected. I’m familiarizing myself with the spell now. Within a week or two, I should be able to cast it for the first time, but that’s a long way from it being useful in actual combat.”

“I’m familiar with the process,” said Maynor.

Of course he was. He was a high level warrior, the captain of the guard. Of course, he knew how magic worked.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Ressssen asked.

“I’m frustrated. We’re following behind an ever more distant quarry, hoping they’ll stop and wait for us to catch up, which I don’t see happening. We have no idea where they’re going or what their game is. We don’t even really know if Eric and Dahr are with them.”

“Perhaps,” said Ressssen, “Merck Vanderoth’s god might have some answers for us. We could at least ask him.”

Maynor nodded, and she stowed the scroll back in its case, put it in a pouch on her belt and led him to wear the Priest stood watching them.

“Am I in trouble?” asked Merck.

Maynor blinked. “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Captain Maynor, I used to be a Swindler. Being in trouble was pretty much my normal state of existence. I haven’t been a priest so long that I’ve forgotten what it feels like, and the expression on your face as you approached was, how shall I put this, grim. When people approach me looking like that, I assume I’ve done something wrong.”

“Actually we were just wondering if George had any tips on what we should do.”

“Tips?”

“You know, guidance. You’re a priest of George, are you not? Have you tried talking to him?”

“No, not really.”

“You realize that it would be perfectly normal to seek the advice of your god as one of his priests, yes?”

“Actually, I missed the day they taught what you need to know about being a Priest should you unexpectedly become one, back when I was in Swindler school, so no. I didn’t realize that. Or rather, I haven’t thought much about it.”

“Perhaps you could try?”

“Very well…should I close my eyes?”

“I don’t think it should matter,” said Ressssen.

“Right. Here goes. Oh great…really?”

Ressssen turned to face the direction Merck had faced and was surprised to see Prince Dahr walking toward them. No, not quite Prince Dahr, but more like a image of him, not quite solid. He walked up to them, and when he spoke it was Dahr’s voice that emerged from his almost translucent mouth.

“Hello, everybody. I heard through the grapevine that Merck was in need of some direction.”

“George?” asked Merck.

“Of course. I took Dahr’s form since I don’t have one of my own. Not quite solid, am I? Oh well, I don’t practice forming a body on the physical plane very often. However, I thought just this once, I might give it a go. So, what can I do for you?”

For a couple of minutes no one spoke. Merck looked at Maynor, realized that the captain wasn’t likely to speak to his god without being directly addressed, and so he took over.

“We don’t seem to be making much headway in pursuing Striker and the Princes.”

“It was always a fool’s errand,” said George. “You never had a chance of catching them.”

“Then what are we to do?”

“If you knew where they were going, it might be possible to get ahead of them.”

“Do you know where they’re going?”

“Of course I do. It’s my job to know things, after all.”

“Would you tell us?”

“That’s where it becomes a bit difficult. I think…”

George trailed off and turned to look behind him. Everyone else followed suit. In the distance, a giant stone disc glid through the sky, heading straight toward them. It stopped overhead and slowly descended until it was resting on the ground. Everyone present recognized the creature immediately, though they had only seen one for the first time recently.

“Intriguing,” said George.

“Hello, Telisian,” said the chirkir.

“You know my name?”

“We do. It’s a very old name. Do you remember where it comes from?”

“As it happens I do not.”

“That’s a shame. We remember.”

“I don’t suppose you’re willing to share that information.”

The chirkir chuckled, a deep rumble coming from within the disc, but they all knew it was laughing. Laughing at a god. Each of them reacted differently, but it was Merck Vanderoth who said what he was thinking aloud.

“That’s my god you’re laughing at. I will not tolerate this sacrilege.”

“God? Telisian is no god,” said the chirkir. “Has he told you he was?”

Merck started to reply but stopped. He had assumed George was a god, but now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember being told that. He had simply assumed. Merck turned to look at George.

“Are you a god?”

Telisian shook his head. “I was here before the gods.”

“He was,” agreed the chirkir. “But we were here before even Telisian, and we remember. We remember everything.”

“Why are you here?” asked Telisian.

“Everyone is moving into position, according to plan. Everyone except the Misfits of Karmenon and Maynor. I am here to rectify that situation.”

“And who’s plan exactly are you following?”

Again the chirkir chuckled. “At the moment, the goddess of magic’s. But ultimately yours, even if you don’t remember it.”

“I don’t understand,” said Telisian.

“But you will, Telisian. When the last piece has moved into place, you will understand everything.”

 

The Book of Lost Wisdom continues with Chapter 22 – Literally Gerrick