Grand Game 291: Players (Patreon)

Oursk pushed our small company hard, taking us farther east and higher up into the mountains. I didn’t try questioning him or any of the other wolves again but kept my senses trained for danger and urged the twins to do likewise.

As we headed deeper into the mountains, we crossed the snow line, and the temperature plummeted. During my time on the tundra, I had endured much worse and barely felt the cold. Not so the twins. But despite their chattering teeth and shivering limbs, they refused to turn back.

Several times, Oursk trotted back to tell me I could leave whenever I wished. He said it so often that I believed he wanted me to go, but I, too, steadfastly refused to retreat, and eventually, we reached an icy clearing atop a windswept plateau.

I slowed to a halt. The clearing was occupied.

Standing in the center of the snowfield, and ignoring the falling sleet and howling wind, was a cloaked figure. Turning my gaze left and right, I swept the area but spotted no one else. Mindsight reported nothing. As did the spectacles of warding.

The stranger was alone.

As far as I could tell, at least. All my buffs were cast, and I was as ready as I could be for battle. But… who planned an ambush in an open clearing and gave me a clear target?

“W-what’s g-going on?” Teresa stuttered. “Are w-we there y-yet?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I took stock of the twins. The pair had their arms tightly wrapped around their torsos in a futile attempt to keep warm and were almost certainly suffering from frostbite.

“We’ve arrived,” Oursk announced.

I nodded, having suspected that to be the case. “Is there shelter nearby?”

Oursk bobbed his head at a distant pile of rocks on the plateau’s northern edge. “The pack has taken refuge there.”

“Good. I will go on alone from here,” I said aloud for Teresa and Terence’s benefit. “Oursk, take the twins to the pack and ensure they stay warm.” I paused, then added, “And safe.”

Terence glanced at the silently waiting figure. “W-who is t-that?”

“I don’t know, but I expect whoever it is, they are the one who orchestrated all this.”

“W-we come w-with y-you,” Teresa said stubbornly.

“You can barely move,” I said sharply. “Go with Oursk and get warm. The pack will inform you if I need help.”

“We will,” Oursk affirmed and gestured to his companions to escort the youths away. The twins didn’t argue further and went willingly, which I suppose said much about their condition.

Oursk hung back, his gaze swinging between me and the waiting figure. “I’m sorry, Michael. All the pack are. If we could have, we—”

“Stop, Oursk,” I said, raising my hand. “Whatever is going on here, it’s not your doing or the Pack’s.” I gestured to the departing wolves. “Go with the others.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I will join you later,” I said, even though I was sure of no such thing.

“Good luck, alpha,” he said and padded away.

Blowing out a frosty breath, I cast mind shield, causing the entire pool of psi at the pit of my subconsciousness to rise up and reform into steel-like bands around my mind.

Your psi pool has been transformed into a mind shield. Psi abilities are unavailable.

As evidenced by the compulsion spell cast on Oursk, my foe was a master psi-caster. I didn’t know if my psi shield would keep me safe, but it was the only defense I had against someone with mental abilities similar—but superior—to my own.

My mind fortified, I turned back to the waiting stranger. The figure had not reacted to my arrival on the plateau nor the departure of the twins and the wolves—even though we’d been in clear sight the entire time.

Reaching out with my will, I cast analyze.

You have failed a Perception check and are unable to analyze your target. This entity is a player, and her Marks are hidden.

I frowned. My failure did not bode well, nor did the fact that my foe’s Marks were concealed. I’d not even known such was possible. But at least I now had confirmation that the one who awaited me was a player. With no other choice, I padded across the snow to meet her.

Motionless, the stranger watched my approach.

As I drew closer, I tried to take her measure, but shadows swirled thick about her—magical shadows, not any trick of light—hiding her face and clothing. It was only her shape that was revealed, and by it, I could tell she was a woman of slim build and near my own size.

Unless that too was an illusion.

I drew to a halt ten yards from the figure.

“You move well across the snow,” the stranger said, her voice melodious and carrying clearly over the wind. “It’s almost as if you were born to it.”

“Who are you?” I demanded, ignoring her comment.

She tilted her head to the side. “You disappoint me. I thought you were more perceptive than that.”

I ran through the possibilities in my mind. I’d only run across one player with the level of deception my foe seemed to possess—two if you counted Loken. But while I did not doubt the trickster could seamlessly imitate a female player, nothing about the figure opposite me smelled of his unique… peculiarities.

Nor did I think it was Mariga—or Amgira as was her proper name. I couldn’t see the so-called dark druid compelling the wolves. For one, she hadn’t known about them, and for another, I’d pegged Mariga as a magic user, not a psi-caster.

Which left…

“You’re Loken’s envoy.”

The stranger clapped her hands. “Bravo. You’re not that slow, after all.”

Things were beginning to make sense. My gaze slid in the direction of the receding wolves. “What did you do to them?”

“Really? That’s the first thing you ask? Not why am I here?”

“Tell me,” I growled, taking a step forward.

Now that I knew the identity of the mysterious player, much of my fear dissipated. In its stead, rage took hold. Loken was meddling… again.

“Careful,” the envoy said casually. “Or I might be forced to kill you.”

Sneering, I took another step. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh? And why’s that.”

“Your master needs me.”

The envoy threw back her head and laughed. “You really believe that? Loken doesn’t need anyone, boy. Much less a lowly tier four player.”

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but her words rang false to my ears, and I thought I detected an undercurrent of jealousy in her tone. I strode forward again, my hands dropping to my swords.

“Stay back,” the envoy ordered in a clipped tone.

“No.” I took another step.

“Oh, very well. I’ll tell you.” The words were said lightly, but I noticed the shadows about the envoy were spinning more furiously.

Leashing my anger, I stopped. I needed to keep the encounter from devolving into violence if I could.

“I haven’t hurt any of your precious wolves—yet,” the envoy went on. Her voice went cold. “But make no mistake, I will if I must, wolf-boy.”

Wolf-boy? Was that a chanced-upon insult, or did she know more about my origins than she should? Would Loken have shared such information with his envoys? I didn’t think so.

“A compulsion spell is hardly harmless,” I snarled.

“Is that what you’re calling it? It’s as good a name as any, I suppose. But my spell did no lasting harm—for which you should be thankful.  At worst, the beasts suffered a touch of pain. Nothing irreversible.” She pressed a finger against her chin. “Unless, of course, one of them was fool enough to try fighting the compulsion.” She shrugged. “Then the damage would’ve been more… pervasive.”

I ground my teeth at her cavalier attitude. “Did your master put you up to this?” I demanded. Would Loken dare use the wolves against me?

He would.

Loken, no doubt, saw my ties to the pack as a weakness, and if there was one thing I’d learned about the trickster, it was that he excelled at exploiting weaknesses.

“Whether he did or did not is no concern of yours,” the envoy snapped. “Now, if we’re done with this pointless chatter, can we get down to the business of why I’m here? You might find these dreary conditions comfortable, but I assure you, I don’t.”

Folding my arms, I waited for her to go on. Why was she here?

“Loken is not happy with you,” the envoy began.

“Oh? Fancy that.”

The envoy ignored my interruption. “You’re interfering with his plans for this sector, which Loken does not take lightly.”

I feigned a yawn. “I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

“Really? I know it was you who slaughtered the Marauders, no matter what you convinced those idiots, Yzark and Kalin, to believe.”

I grinned, but there was nothing friendly about my smile. The Marauders. So, that’s what this was about. “I’m still not following you.”

“Drop the act, boy. You’re fooling no one. You will desist in your vendetta against Kalin’s people. Immediately.”

“I will not,” I retorted.

The envoy turned to look pointedly in the direction the wolves had disappeared. She said nothing, but the threat was clear.

My grin faded. “I’m beginning to believe your master knows nothing of what you do here.”

She turned back to me. “And why’s that?”

“Because Loken would never be so foolish to threaten me in such an obvious fashion. He knows how well I react to threats.” I narrowed my eyes. “He doesn’t know about this little chat, does he?”

“You will break off your attacks against the Marauders,” the envoy said, disregarding my question entirely.

But her avoidance was a mistake and only cemented my suspicions.

“If you fail to heed me,” she continued, “I will purge this valley of every living wolf.”

On the tail end of the envoy’s words, I felt a tug on my mind. It was as if a clammy hand had reached out and tried to smear away my resistance.

You have passed a mental resistance check! Your mind shield has repelled the subversive influence of an unknown entity.

Stifling the urge to shudder, I said with pretended calm, “Your mental tricks will not work on me. And if you move against the wolves again, my vendetta will not be with the Marauders but with Loken. The day a single dire wolf in this valley dies at Shadow’s hand is the day I make it my sole mission in the Game to foil the trickster’s plots and murder his followers wherever I find them.”

For a moment, the envoy was stunned speechless. “Who do you think you are to believe you can threaten a Power—or his envoy, for that matter—and get away with it?”

The question was rhetorical, but I answered, nonetheless. “Why don’t you ask your master that? Maybe he will tell you. And while you’re at it, make sure you find out how he feels about your actions costing him the chalice he so desperately wants me to steal.”

There was another drawn-out moment of silence.

My response seemed to have confounded the envoy again. I didn’t know to what extent Loken shared information with his sworn, but I thought it a safe bet that the envoy didn’t know the whole truth of how things stood between me and the trickster, and by her silence, I suspected she was coming to the same realization.

The lull in the conversation stretched out.

Feeling the envoy’s eyes resting on me, I remained tightlipped while she weighed my words. Instinctively, I sensed saying more would be a mistake.

“Perhaps, I will,” she said finally and turned around. “But we are not done. I will be back. And when I return, for your sake, I hope I have the answers you expect.”

The shadows about her contracted, and I realized she was about to teleport out.

“Wait!” I shouted.

Pausing, the envoy turned back to me.

“I have a proposition for you.”

The silence was palpable.

“A… proposition? After all that?”

I nodded.

The envoy giggled, the sound incongruous with the rest of her demeanor, and I suspected it was her first genuine reaction. “Truly, you are audacious, wolf-boy. Go on. I can’t wait to hear it.”