Grand Game 336: Things aren’t as They Seem (Patreon)

You have passed a thieving skill check!

You have removed 4 trap-making crystals from your trapper’s wristband. Remaining trap-making crystals: 128 of 200.

Elron and I drew to a stop as we reached the doors to the council chamber. In my closed fist, I held four crystals. I’d been tempted to trap the corridor but had decided against it. Even in my present circumstances, I couldn’t afford to waste my traps, and I suspected the council chamber was where most of the action would take place anyway.

“Tell the thane we’ve arrived,” Elron said, addressing the two guards outside the doors. One of them slipped into the room—closing the door behind him—and the marshal turned to me. “Here is where I leave you.”

I was not surprised. More and more, I was becoming convinced that Elron did not want to be party to whatever his superiors planned. “Thank you,” I replied, leaving unsaid exactly what I was thanking him for.

The marshal swung around, walking away without a backward glance.

I watched him go for a moment, then turned back to find the remaining guard watching me intently. Striding up to him, I leaned casually against the closed doors. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do they do in there all day long?”

The guard’s brows crinkled. “The council, you mean?”

Nodding, I opened my right hand—hidden by my body—and placed it flat against the door.

You have activated a single-use enchantment. You have concealed an explosive trap element.

“Ruling stuff, I suppose,” he said.

“Huh, imagine that,” I said, and stuck another crystal to the door.

You have concealed a second explosive trap element.

The door began to open, and I stepped aside.

“They want you now,” the second guard said, emerging from the chamber.

“Then, I better go in,” I said and slipped past him.

✵ ✵ ✵

The council hall was conspicuously bright.

Magelights hung from the rafters and lined the walls, making the room far brighter than on my first visit. I took a second to study the chamber. There was not a single shadowed area to be seen.

That was not by chance, of course.

Two closed doors were along the hall’s left and right walls. I didn’t let my gaze linger on them for too long, but I was certain they led to the antechambers Ghost had mentioned. There were no spelled wards to be seen in the hall, though. It surprised me, and I had to work to keep the troubled frown off my face.

“Have a seat.”

Glancing down the hall, I saw the dark elf, Cilia, had risen to address me. The council table was set as before, but this time a single chair had been placed on its nearside—for me, presumably. From behind, I heard the chamber’s main door close and the quiet turn of a key.

I had been locked in.

Opening my mindsight, I strode closer to the waiting council members. The five of us were the only ones in the room. I detected no mindglows in the adjacent rooms, and I should have; both were in range.

The mages had shielded themselves.

Drawing to a halt before the council table and about a foot from the chair, I opened my right hand and let the third enchanted crystal fall noiselessly to the carpeted floor.

“Sit,” Cilia repeated.

Shaking my head, I placed my booted heel over the crystal. “I prefer to stand.”

You have concealed a darkness trap element.

“What’s that on your face?” Stormhammer asked suspiciously.

“Spectacles,” I replied laconically. The thane clearly expected me to expand on my statement, but instead I took the opportunity to weave together the spelled strands of the disparate trap elements I’d placed.

You have connected 3 trap elements to a remote-control trigger.

Two explosive traps and a darkness trap have been successfully configured!

“Why do you need them?” Sienna asked, frowning.

I gestured to the magelights overhead with my right hand while keeping the trigger concealed in my left. “Those are bright enough to hurt. The spectacles help. But if you dim the lights, I’d be more than happy to take them off.”

Unsurprisingly, no one took me up on my offer.

“We didn’t assemble here for idle chatter,” Lorn remarked mildly before the silence could become too awkward.

“Quite right,” Cilia said, regaining control of the conversation. “Let’s begin.”

I pursed my lips, not missing the change in the council’s leadership. Stormhammer was no longer in charge. Was that significant?

“You have our thanks and that of the city for what you’ve done,” Cilia said. “By destroying the fog banks, you’ve ensured New Haven’s continued survival.”

I inclined my head. “You’re welcome. Now, it’s your turn. Give me the location of the portal.”

Cilia waved aside my question. “We’ll get to that in due time. First, we have some questions.”

“Questions?” I repeated blandly.

“Yes, questions,” the dark elf said, leaning forward on the table. “Nothing onerous, mind you. But we must be certain, you understand.”

“Of course,” I said, keeping my face expressionless. Inwardly, though, I quivered with anger. Cilia was up to something. I wasn’t sure what, but it was time to see to my final preparations. Drawing psi, I cast my buffs.

“Excellent,” Cilia said. “Now, tell us, how were you able to find the seed? And so quickly! You barely spent more than a few minutes in each fog bank.”

“Avery asked me the same thing,” I mused aloud. “Why all this interest in a matter of such minor importance?”

Sienna’s lips thinned. “We’re asking the questions, not you,” she retorted before Cilia could respond. “Now, answer the First!”

“Give me the location of the exit portal first,” I countered.

Sienna’s face flushed but before she could speak, Cilia laid a hand on her arm. “You don’t seem to understand the situation,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve lost your leverage. Unless you satisfy our curiosity, you will not get the answers you seek.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “If that was supposed to convince me to share even more of my secrets,” I said disdainfully, “then it was a mighty awful effort.”

Anger sparked in Cilia’s eyes and her mask affability appeared in danger of slipping. “I apologize for Sienna’s impertinence, and my earlier… rudeness,” she said, managing to keep up the act. “But come, this is a small matter. You said so yourself. Only tell us, and we can move on from all this unpleasantness.”

I stared mutely back at her, wondering just how gullible she thought me.

“This is a waste of time,” Stormhammer muttered. “Just tell him what he wants to know so we can get this damn charade over with.”

“Shut up, you imbecile!” Cilia hissed, pinning the thane with a furious glare. “You were warned not to interfere!”

The dwarf’s face turned red, and he looked ready to explode. “How dare you!” he roared, jerking upright. “Don’t you forget who you’re—”

I stopped listening. Ghost had reappeared—and from her expression, things were about to get interesting.

“They’re coming,” the spirit wolf sang.

I tensed, my thumb on the button of the remote trigger. I was primed to escape, but I’d still not learned what I’d come here to. Remaining outwardly calm and, to all appearances blissfully unaware, I waited.

The doors to the antechambers blew open and two dozen mages charged in. Each sparkled with wards and protective shields, and all of them had staffs and wands in hand. The council froze, argument forgotten as they stared wide-eyed at the blue-robed figures.

Either they’re wonderful actors, I thought, or they’ve been caught as much by surprise as I was supposed to be.

The mages formed up on either side of me. All of them had their hoods up, concealing their identities, but I was sure Avery was amongst their number.

A final figure strolled languidly out of the antechamber on the right. Unlike the other mages, he was not wrapped in spells and didn’t carry any weapons. His head was uncovered, too, revealing a gleaming bald head.

“That’s the leader,” Ghost whispered.

I nodded ever so slightly in her direction and turned to inspect this approaching figure.

The target is Castor, a level 208 human.

Your mental intrusion has been detected!

You have passed a mental resistance check! A hostile entity has failed to pierce your disguise. A hostile entity has failed to analyze you.

Only by dint of will did I keep my eyes from widening in shock.

Not only was the approaching human an elite—and how did an ordinary human manage to become so powerful?—he’d used analyze on me, an ability I would have sworn only players possessed.

The strange mage’s lips turned down, seemingly disappointed by the failure of his ability.

“Castor, what’s the meaning of this?” Cilia demanded. “I thought we agreed—”

The human slashed a hand downward. “Silence!”

The dark elf’s mouth snapped closed.

My gaze darted to the other New Haven rulers; all were similarly tight lipped. Heads bowed and eyes downcast, they refused to meet Castor’s gaze. My eyes narrowed, not missing the implications. Whoever Castor was, he was the one truly in charge here—not Cilia, and certainly not the other council members.

“Better,” Castor said, letting his gaze linger over the cowed rulers. “Now, like the thane said, this charade has gone on long enough.” He looked at me. “We have what we want.”

“What are you?” I asked. Castor looked like a mundane human and the Game didn’t dispute that, but he had to be more.

“Have a seat, and I’ll tell you everything,” he replied.

“No.”

Castor raised an eyebrow and glanced meaningfully at the arrayed mages in silent threat.

“I’m bored already,” I said, faking a yawn. “Either you tell me what I want now, or I leave.”

Anger flashed in the human’s eyes, but no sign of it showed when he spoke. “We’re the possessed.”

This time, I did not manage to hide my start of surprise.

“So, you’ve heard of us,” Castor said matter-of-factly. “And how might that have happened?” he asked, studying the rulers.

Sweat dribbled down Sienna’s face and even Cilia looked worried. Lorn was implacable as ever, and the thane just as disgruntled. “I let it slip,” Stormhammer said shortly. “I accused him of being one of you.”

“You,” Castor said, his lips turning down. “I should have known.” He turned back to me. “Do you know what we are?”

We? My gaze slid from him to the rest of the silent mages in the room.

“That’s right,” Castor said. “All of us are the so-called possessed.” He stepped closer. “I never liked that term myself, but what can you do? Some idiot mistakenly labeled us so centuries ago and the name stuck.” His eyes held mine. “Now answer me, do you know what we are?”

I shook my head.

Castor spread his arms and smiled as if my ignorance amused him. “Come, can’t you guess?”

“Why bother? I can see you’re dying to tell me.”

The elite guffawed, laughing so hard he had to clutch his sides in an effort to stop.

I watched him expressionlessly. “What’s so funny?”

“That word,” Castor wheezed, getting himself under control. “Dying. We don’t do that anymore.”

I frowned.

“We’ve escaped death more fully than ever before.”

My frown deepened. Before? I wondered. Before what?

“I can see you’re finally catching on,” Castor remarked, still amused. “Go on, think it through. I’ll wait.”

Ignoring his condescending tone, I did just that. “You are players,” I said at last. Perhaps Castor and his fellows could falsify their Game data. That all of them could do so and with such effectiveness as to defeat my own perception did seem unlikely, but it was the only thing that made sense.

“So close, but so wrong,” Castor said, shaking his head in mock sadness. “We are…”

He paused theatrically.

“… former players. Only now, we’re so much better. Undying and eternal.”

I stared at him agog. Elites. Stygian Powers. And now former players—whatever the hell that was supposed to be—claiming to be undying.

Just how much worse could this bloody dungeon get?