Bard to the Bone Page 3

  My ribs throbbed as I opened the menu. Flicking my blood-soaked fingers, I tabbed to the account page. I pressed Logout.

  Nothing happened.

  The button was blank. Every option was grayed out.

  What the hell?

  It made no sense. A glitch? Pain seized my chest. Why can’t I leave?

  I pushed Logout again. A 1 jumped from my bleeding wound. “Log out!” What would happen when I died?

  2HP

  A monstrous scream shook the trees. The battle between the mage and Snotzilla raged. Lightning struck the tree next to me, exploding it into shards. It knocked me backward, scattering flame over the swamp. I inhaled acrid smoke, choking.

  The sound of my heartbeat exploded in my ears, drowning the chaos of their fight.

  I was dying. It felt way too real.

  “Log—” I coughed, sinking to my knees. “Log out!”

  1HP

  Warmth spilled over my fingers as the world faded into a dull void.

  0HP

  Three

  I snapped awake to a strange sky. Violet rays beamed from a lavender sun. I could hear the racing of my heartbeat in my ears. Phantom pain throbbed in my crotch as I sat in a puddle. Gnarled, gray trees surrounded me.

  Well, this is a weird dream.

  The dead giveaway was my lack of clothes. I was completely naked.

  I hated dreams like this. Usually, I was in a classroom or an office. It would be the day of my big presentation. Everyone would laugh at my bare ass, and I’d wake up in a cloud of confused humiliation.

  My mind swam. This wasn’t a nightmare. Everything was way too tactile. I felt the rough dirt and cold mud on my butt. A gentle breeze made me shiver.

  My memory was a haze of startling images. Gushing blood. A sorceress guiding electricity. Explosions of fire. A heart-stopping fear. My head spun as I untangled the confusing memories. It was like swimming upstream. A current pushed me back the harder I kicked.

  Kicked. A girl had kicked me in the balls. A dull ache returned to my groin.

  Holy shit. I had died. I was still inside Cascadia Quest.

  Panic gripped my chest, and I forced myself to take deep breaths.

  This isn’t real. Don’t lose it. It’s just a game.

  What else could I remember?

  My thoughts snapped to the woman. She’d blasted that monster, a lightning bolt struck the ground, and then the world erupted into flames. When I tried to log out, but the option vanished.

  I opened my menu. Logout was barely visible in the embossed button’s shadow.

  I focused on it. Nothing happened. I mashed the button, not receiving any response from the UI. I poked it again. Again. And again.

  “Log out! Log—the fuck—out!”

  The UI didn’t respond to my yelling.

  What the hell was going on?

  A cool breeze stung my wet skin. I stood, brushing pebbles and twigs off my ass. Now I recognized the purple swamp from before. The Dreadmarsh. There could only be one explanation: I’d respawned here after being killed.

  I tabbed the floating menu back to the main page.

  James

  Level 1 Bard

  HP: 16/16

  Experience: 5 Level Goal: 60

  Strength: 2 Reflex: 4 Willpower: 4 Charisma: 6

  Traits: none

  Abilities: Song of Mocking

  Spells: none

  Gold: 5

  My clothing and dagger were gone, and half my gold and experience points had disappeared. All I had was the idiotic lute, which was magically repaired. How generous of the developers to make sure I still had this piece of crap.

  Why couldn’t I log out?

  I didn’t know. It had to be a mistake—a minor glitch. Maybe the option for logging out was disabled while players were engaged in combat? That would keep people from abusing the system, but there weren’t any hostiles nearby.

  None I could see, anyway.

  I flicked through, searching for a way to report bugs or message the developer. Account—grayed out. Settings—grayed out. Messages—grayed out.

  If I was stuck here and there was no way to summon help, how would I leave? What would happen to my body?

  I slammed the brakes on my panicked thoughts. Spiraling wouldn’t solve anything. A VR safety protocol would log me out, or I’d contact the support staff. There had to be a failsafe.

  Breathe.

  The sorceress! She might help, even if she was an NPC. I had to find her.

  I followed the signs of destruction to a smoldering stump and walked along the torn vegetation. Steam wafted from a smashed tree. I trudged through the festering marsh. Water coated my toes in a thin, greenish film. It felt like stepping in snot. Disgusting.

  A trail of obliterated swampland led to the giant monster. It lay vanquished before her, the corpse a smoking husk. The charred limbs crashed to the side, muscle fibers snapping as it slowly fell apart. Blood gurgled from the viscera of the monster’s shredded torso.

  The sorceress stood with her arms crossed. The navy cloak blew in the wind, revealing the full length of her navel-diving dress. Long obsidian hair spilled over a delicate face and tanned, bare shoulders. She was gorgeous, with a straight nose and rosebud lips. Smoky eyeshadow framed her deep blue eyes. She stared into the distance, her gaze filled with infinite pain.

  “Hi.”

  She swiped the air and faced me. Her eyebrow rose. “Why are you naked?”

  “No idea.” The sorceress was the hottest girl I’d ever seen, let alone had a conversation with, but this wasn’t my ideal setting.

  In my fantasies, the woman was naked.

  “I woke up like this. Hey, do you—”

  “Never mind. Don’t care.” She held up a hand, stemming my explanation. “Krile is a girl’s name. I’m guessing you’re not her. Who are you?”

  “James.” Why couldn’t I speak in anything but monosyllables? “I’m not a—”

  A soft groan erupted from a bush. We snapped our attention to the peasant, who crawled out, clutching her blonde head.

  “There you are!” Krile beamed, straightening.

  I backed away. That bitch had kicked me in the balls. “Stay the hell away.”

  Ignoring me, Krile grabbed my waist in a tight embrace. “You saved me!”

  The sorceress sighed.

  I forced a smile and patted Krile’s back. “Er—it’s no problem.”

  “Those things would’ve given me to that beast.” Disgust contorted Krile’s features, and I decided not to remind her that she’d allied herself with Snotzilla. “How can I repay your bravery?”

  At least she was treating me like a person again. The exclamation point was gone. The Song of Mocking must’ve worn off.

  “Hey, idiot.” A bemused grin tugged at the beautiful sorceress’ lips. “I asked you a question. Who are you?”

  “He’s the brave hero who saved me!” Krile squeezed my arm. “Tell her, honey.”

  That was stretching the truth.

  The mage frowned. “I killed the monster. So there’s two of you? How many goddamn peasants are kidnapped around here?”

  “I wasn’t kidnapped…” I mumbled.

  “Whatever. As long as I get my quest reward, I don’t care. Let’s move your brain-dead asses to town. Chop, chop!”

  She clapped and walked to the road, clearly expecting me to follow.

  My head reeled from the strangeness of her words. Quest reward? Brain-dead asses?

  “You’re real, aren’t you?”

  She stopped, saying nothing.

  “I need your help. I’m stuck,” I blurted. “There’s something wrong with my user interface. I can’t log out.”

  Her haunted gaze found me again. “Sorry new guy. All of us are trapped.”

  Four

  “Trapped? What do you mean, trapped?” I sounded like a chipmunk. “What’s your name again?”

  “I never gave it to you. It’s Naomi. You’re John?”


  She’d already forgotten me. “James.”

  This was beyond awkward. It didn’t help that the NPC was glued to my side.

  “You saved me.” Krile turned my head toward hers for a kiss. “Brave hero.”

  Naomi scowled at the NPC. “Make her stop.”

  “Don’t know how!” I pushed Krile aside, too uncomfortable to put strength into the shove. She didn’t behave like a normal person, but she still looked every bit as real as Naomi.

  And Krile wasn’t disturbed by my nakedness. Her breasts squished against my chest. I kept wiping my palms on my legs. I would’ve loved the attention, but the circumstances were too weird. A girl I’d be thrilled to date was rubbing against me, practically climbing onto me, and I was doing my damnedest to push her away while avoiding looking down her cleavage.

  “Are you stuck here, too?”

  “Yes.” Naomi seemed bored, as though she’d rather talk about anything else. “Logging out isn’t an option for any of us.”

  “Since when?”

  “Launch.” Naomi shrugged. “Sorry, that’s how it is. The logout function has always been disabled. I’ve never been able to use it. No one has.”

  “So it’s a widespread glitch?” Jesus, this was worse than I thought.

  “I know where this is going, so let’s cut to the chase.” Impatience flickered across her face. “I’ve been here for a long time. You need to trust me on this. There’s no getting out.”

  “There must be a workaround.” I racked my brains for information, wishing I’d read through the instruction manual that came with the console. “Can we make calls from inside the game?”

  “Nope. All forms of contact with the outside are impossible. People come in, but nothing gets out.”

  That was horrible.

  Wait a second. There was a kiosk on the island, which was somewhere in this world. “What about the tutorial area? There was a support desk. Has anyone tried—”

  “Yes, but it’s useless. The whole place is a ruin. It’s called the Ancient Isle for a reason.” Naomi’s dark eyes flashed as I opened my mouth to argue. “The sooner you accept that there’s no way to leave, the easier this will be. Some of us have been stuck here for months. You’re not the only person in this situation.”

  Months?

  Panic darted into my heart. That wasn’t possible. Gamers would’ve died from starvation. Negative press would’ve drowned Cascadia Quest within a few weeks of its launch. If what Naomi said were true, people would have noticed their unmoving family members.

  She frowned at me. “I’m not lying.”

  “I can’t imagine how that’d happen.”

  “Look, I don’t have time to explain it. You’ll find out eventually. You can either follow me to Marshtown or not.”

  Naomi was blunt. Straight to the point. I wanted to travel with her. Probably would. My options were limited.

  I shivered from a sudden chill. My teeth chattered. “M-marshtown?”

  “Let’s see if I’ve something for you.” Naomi fingered the air, biting her lip. “Not sure any of my dresses are a good fit for you, unless you’re into that. Ah, here we are.” She reached into an invisible container and clothes materialized from nothing. She threw them at my feet. “Here.”

  I grabbed the Traveler Outfit, which was a roughly-spun shirt, patched trousers and a matching coat. I pulled them on, grateful to be clothed. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Level 1 Bard,” she mused. “Is this your first day?”

  “Yeah. How do you know my level?”

  “Says so on your page. You’ve accessed your character menu by looking at your health, right? Same thing. Focus on any object or person, and a description will pop up. Try it on me.”

  I focused on her face, distracted by her revealing dress.

  Naomi

  Level 12 Sorceress

  HP: 47/47

  Strength: 3 Reflex: 11 Willpower: 19 Charisma: 5

  Traits: Self-controlled, Diligent, [secret]

  Relationship: Cordial

  She was a way higher level. Sorceress—that explained the lightning.

  I licked my lips. “What’s in Marshtown?”

  “For me? Claiming quest rewards.” Naomi’s somber gaze raked my body. “For you—nicer pants, weapons, maybe a bath.”

  “Do I smell?”

  She snorted. “No, but you’re covered in slime. Most people appreciate good hygiene.”

  Warmth tickled my neck from her playful tone. “What happens if I never bathe?”

  “Nothing.” Naomi strolled the path, tilting her head to enjoy the sun’s rays. “The developers didn’t code bacteria into the game. So there’s no moldering flesh, infections, or BO.”

  “Viruses?”

  Naomi stared at me. “Nope.”

  “Well, I won’t lie. I’m eager to get the sludge out of certain areas.” It might not stink, but it itched like a motherfucker.

  Naomi tried to suppress a grin. She couldn’t.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You just reminded me what you looked like. Someone had too much fun with the crotch adjustment slider.”

  I glanced down, blushing at the sight of my bulge. “If I’m guilty, so are you.”

  I gestured at her perfectly round breasts, the straining-to-break free boobs that somehow defied gravity without the support of a bra. Her nipples poked against the thin fabric. It was beyond hot.

  “For your information, I could’ve gone higher, but I didn’t.”

  “Ah. That must be why your trait is ‘self-controlled.’”

  “Hilarious,” she drawled.

  We ribbed at each other as Krile followed us out of the swamp. The winding road took us to the crumbling gates of Marshtown.

  New Settlement Discovered!

  Marshtown

  Reward: 15 experience

  Everything was wet.

  Guards with mud-caked greaves eyed us as we crossed. The stone walls were overgrown with moss. A maze of dirty streets led us around lopsided buildings that towered over a murky bay.

  It was a cold, decrepit place without an inch of dry land. Roads twisted through a hodgepodge of sinking apartments. Stairs took us up and down, abandoning any attempt to follow a grid. The few homes were barges wedged in whatever space could be found. The entire city was disappearing into the marsh. New floors were added as lower levels disappeared into the muck.

  A half-sunken church was buried under a second temple established on its roof, supported by a mess of scaffolding. A massive, four-story tree fort loomed behind it with extra rooms jutting out at odd angles. Zip-lines and ladders connected the house to the rest of the metropolis. Even boats were hoisted high above the water and built into existing structures. We passed under a three-deck ship raised over the main route to create a giant arch adjacent to the town square.

  It was livelier here. People from all walks of life traversed the paths, and they were as eclectic as Marshtown. Bald street vendors yelled at each other as they pulled vegetable carts through the mud. An old woman wearing a headscarf poured a chamber pot onto the road; the slop hit the cobblestones. Children ran over rooftops, leaping across narrow alleys. Nobody smiled. The exceptions were the strumpets, who blew kisses at me.

  “Is everyone here an NPC?” I studied a paladin with mismatched armor. He bought fruit from a vendor, and it disappeared into his inventory.

  Naomi shrugged. “It’s a mix, but mostly yea.”

  “Why are they all pissed?”

  “Who would be happy living here? Some towns are friendlier than others. Marshtown is not my favorite.”

  “So why come here?” A man bumped into my shoulder. “Oops. Sorry.”

  He turned his greasy head. “Fuck off, asshole.”

  Naomi smirked at my shock. “I go from place to place, picking up small quests like monster hunting. A recent one led me here.”

  “How many players have you met?”

  “Countless,” she said.

  I
accessed my menu. The button was unresponsive. “I still can’t log out.”

  “That will not change. Everyone gets stuck here. Checking every five minutes won’t help.”

  I thought of my rathole in the Upper East Side. I’d never eat from the Halal Guys food cart, walk Central Park on a crisp morning, or climb over gray slush in the spring when the snow melted. Everything I had taken for granted was gone. What I had wasn’t perfect, but it was safe. It was home.

  I’d never see my family again.

  A lump bulged in my throat. “How can you be sure that—”

  “Hold on,” Naomi said as she stopped in front of a wooden signboard. “If any of these catch your eye, grab them.”

  The board was positioned between a pair of oars converted into posts. Papers and fliers were nailed over the surface. They were a mixture of handwritten and printed designs with drawings and gibberish letters. Naomi studied them, grabbing a handful and shoving them into her pouch.

  “Why do they look weird?” I poked at a corkscrew symbol.

  “Oh, right. This is a quest board. Most of them are beyond your level. They’ll be incomprehensible until you’re a higher level. Some are clues to factions and storylines you can join. Every settlement has them. Rare quests don’t get advertised here, though. You’ll have to explore the world to find those.”

  Naomi gave me a flier as we continued walking. The writing was illegible, but a drawing of a woman sat in the center. She wore the same outfit as Krile. Spread across her freckled face was the same vacantly sweet expression.

  We moved on. Marshtown didn’t seem to have a rough area. Every street was grim. At the southern wall, we passed a lopsided tavern. Cloaked brigands hushed their conversation as we approached. A youth stared at Krile, his upper lip curled in a snarl. He elbowed his fellows, whispered, and they slid off the tavern’s porch to make a beeline for Naomi.

  Naomi frowned at the group of seedy men. “That’s close enough.”

  They blocked our path, wearing identical expressions of rage. A young man in steel armor rasped. “Halt.”

  Naomi eyed him warily. “Move.”