Grand Game 343: Dead is not Truly Dead (Patreon)

It was difficult to imagine how I would escape this time. In fact, I was almost certain I wouldn’t, and of its own accord, my mind wandered beyond my present circumstances to thoughts of the future.

When—if—I died here, how was I going to get back to the city? I hadn’t even established where the safe zone was yet. Could I make it back without gear? Another concern loomed large. What would the possessed do with my equipment? Maybe, I should—

“I’ll save you!” Ghost yelled, interrupting my maudlin thoughts.

I winced at her loudness. “Don’t bother, Ghost,” I replied tiredly. The mages were moving about, and at least two were already heading in my direction. “It’s too late for that.”

There was no response.

“Ghost?” I called, lifting my head off the floor.

More silence.

It took me a full second to realize what that meant. Ghost had already run off. To try and save me? Probably. It was the only explanation.

Sighing, I bestirred myself further. If Ghost wasn’t giving up, I shouldn’t either. Stretching out my arms, I felt out my surroundings. It was the only thing I could do at this point. On my left was cold stone—the wall—and on my right, empty space. In front of me, I felt something soft.

A couch?

It wasn’t much of a hiding spot, but under the circumstances, it would do. Teeth clenched, I dragged myself across the floor.

My body screamed bloody murder and stars danced across my unseeing eyes, making every inch moved an exercise in torture. Still, I kept going.

Finally, the sounds of footsteps, drawing ever closer, penetrated the haze of pain surrounding my mind, and I stopped.

Two hostile entities have failed to detect you!

Biting my tongue to keep myself from venting the agony that demanded voice, I listened intently.

“He must be around here,” Lake muttered. From the sound of it, he was circling around the right side of the couch. “I saw him thrown this way.”

“Could he be hiding?” Rice whispered. He was behind me, approaching the front of the couch. I was caught between the pair.

Lake grunted. “It’s likely. But the smoke is nearly gone. He won’t be able to stay hidden much longer,” he said, his voice getting louder with each word.

Two hostile entities have failed to detect you!

“Do you think the others are right?” Rice asked from nearly on top of me. Without waiting for a response, he continued. “I tell you, there is something strange about this player. Elite or not, he shouldn’t have survived that explosion. You don’t think he is a—”

A scream cut through the air.

Shouts and bedlam followed in its wake, and the two possessed froze. “What was that?” Rice asked anxiously.

“Our quarry,” Lake crowed. “The others have found him! Quick, to the corridor.”

“But—” Rice began.

Lake raced out of the lounge, sparing no thought for his companion.

Above me, Rice sighed. “Arrogant idiot,” he grumbled before storming out as well and leaving me alone.

✵ ✵ ✵

My chance to affect a getaway had finally arrived.

If only my injuries hadn’t seen to it that that was impossible. No, not impossible. Difficult. Merely difficult.

Favoring my right leg, I grasped the back of the couch with bloody fingers and rose to my feet. I wobbled but stayed erect. Using the couch as a crutch, I took a step forward.

My right leg quivered as my weight transferred to it. It held, though. The explosion had shattered my kneecap, making every step excruciating. But I could still walk.

And despite the pain, I did.

Exhaling and inhaling in short sharp breaths, I tottered forward with my hands outstretched, blindly searching for the nearby wall I knew to be close by.

I couldn’t give up—not after what Ghost had accomplished. It was she, of course, who had caused the commotion that spurred the mages’ retreat. I didn’t know how the spirit wolf had managed it, and with more important things on my mind—like escaping—I had little attention to spare the question. But I was determined to not let her down.

My left hand brushed stone.

I exhaled in relief. Now, I was getting somewhere. Letting my fingers trail across the wall’s surface, I circled the room. Sooner or later, I would run across one of the windows, and while getting there might take me longer, it was better than stumbling across the lounge.

“Prime, Prime! I’ve drawn them away!” an excited voice shouted in my mind.

That was Ghost. Still safe, thankfully. It was more good news, and right now, I needed all of that that I could get. I limped on.

“You have to escape,” she added. “Now, before they return there!”

“I’m working on it,” I rasped. “What did you do?”

“I cast astral blades!” she exclaimed.

I chuckled hoarsely, pleased that she had finally learned the spell. “Tell me what happened,” I said as I paused for breath. I’d taken a dozen steps around the room already, and my right leg felt like it was about to collapse beneath me.

“I manifested the dagger in my jaws and ran straight at one of the possessed. I passed through his body, of course, but the astral blade didn’t! It lodged in his leg and left him limping.”

I resumed my steady trek. Where were the damned windows? “Well done, Ghost. I knew you could do it.”

Another bitten-off cry carried to me from the corridor. “That’s one of the possessed, I take it. What are they up to now?”

“Jumping at shadows,” Ghost replied smugly. “They think you’re hiding somewhere in the corridor and are firing blindly in random directions in hopes of hitting you.”

I smiled. She really had done well. “Nicely done. But where are you right now?”

“In the corridor, halfway between you and the possessed,” she replied. “Maybe if I kill one of them, they’ll flee altogether,” she mused.

“Don’t do that. I need you with me.”

“Why?” Ghost asked, sounding puzzled.

“They’re mages,” I explained. “Sooner or later, one of them is going to cast a spell that will reveal you. And we can’t have that.”

“But—”

“You’ve bought me enough time,” I assured her. “In fact, I’m already at a window.” And I was.

Unsheathing ebonheart, I started sawing at one of the steel bars. “I need you here to guide me out. I lost my sight in the explosion.” I suspected that where certain danger would not convince Ghost, a cry for help would.

“Alright,” she replied. Her reluctance was obvious, but she heeded my request, nevertheless.

“Thank you,” I said fervently. Breaking off communication with her, I focused fully on what my hands were doing.

Working without sight was difficult—but not impossible—and as tough as the steel was, it could not resist ebonheart’s touch. The bottom of the bar came free, and soon after, the top broke off.

“Prime! You have company!” Ghost hissed.

“You’re mistaken,” I said absently as I positioned ebonheart at the base of the second bar. I might be blind at the moment, but there was nothing wrong with my ears, and I’d heard no one.

“I’ve just entered the room, and I’m telling you someone else is here!”

I stopped dead.  There was no doubt in her voice. “Here? As in this room?”

“Yes!”

“Who is it?” I asked, slowly readying my blade. I had no idea how I would fight blind, crippled, and hovering near death, but I would try.

“He’s... like me,” she replied, alarm transforming into wonder.

“Like you?” I asked, my brows furrowing.

“Yes. A spirit.”

For a moment, I didn’t react, thinking I’d misheard. “A... spirit?”

“I think it’s the possessed you killed.”

“Avery?” I asked, still struggling to make sense of what was going on.

“Yes, him.”

How could Ghost be seeing Avery? He was dead! “Uhm, what is he doing?”

“He is hovering above his body and staring straight at you.” She paused. “He doesn’t look happy.”

I bet he wasn’t. If it was truly Avery’s spirit Ghost was seeing, given my spirit talker trait, he should be able to understand me if I spoke. “Avery, can you hear me?”

There was no response.

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Ghost said.

“Why not?” I asked, cursing the circumstances that had left my senses so debilitated.

“He’s like me but not. His spirit is... incomplete. I don’t think he is all there.”

Had Avery become a wraith? I wondered. Some sort of half-mad spirit?

But, as fascinating as I found the subject of spirit-Avery to be, I did not have time to ponder the mystery further. “Forget him and come here. He seems harmless enough.” I pointed to the gap I’d widened. “Will I fit through?”

A pause. “Yes.”

That was good enough for me. Returning ebonheart to its scabbard, I grasped the remaining bars in my hands and pulled myself onto the windowsill. Then, turning my body sideways, I squeezed through the window.

It was a tight fit, it hurt like hell, and I thought I passed out for a split-second or two during the process. Still, I managed to haul my entire body out and onto the tiny stone ledge that lay on the other side.

A breeze tugged at me.

Gentle though it was, the wind nearly yanked me off my perch. Gripping the bars tightly, I secured myself in place. I was five floors up and hopefully no more than a distance speck to those on the ground. But just in case, I wrapped myself in shadow.

You are hidden.

The wind pulled at me again.

I couldn’t stay where I was. My position was too exposed, both to the elements and anyone who walked into the lounge. The moment the possessed found the sawn-off bar, they would know to look outside, and from such close quarters, not even my stealth would protect me.

I couldn’t make my way down the tower, though. Not blind, with a bad leg, and a single climbing glove—its partner was still stuck in the wall above the lounge entrance. One glove was better than none, though, and I equipped the right hand cat claw.

“Ghost, talk to me. How far beyond the window does this ledge extend?”

A drawn-out silence. “It doesn’t.”

That wasn’t promising. “What about handholds? Do you see any to the left or right?”

“The brickwork is smooth on both sides.”

I winced. More bad news. Had I exceeded my quota of good news already? “What about above?”

“There is... something.”

Anxiously, I waited for her to describe what she meant.

“A broken brick is within reach, and beyond that there is another one protruding out slightly. You should be able to climb upward.”

Some of my tension eased. “Then I need you to be my eyes.” I raised my gloved hand. “Guide me to those bricks...”

✵ ✵ ✵

A few minutes later, I was splayed against the tower, about three feet above the window and wrapped in shadows.

Unfortunately, there were no more helpful irregularities in the tower’s outer surface to assist my ascent, and not wanting to push my luck, I decided to stay put. The next one hundred minutes—the time remaining on the quad chained debuff—promised to be cold, excruciating, and boring.

But there was nothing for it but to wait it out.

“Something is happening,” Ghost said.

“The possessed are returning to the lounge again?” I guessed.

The mages had already come and gone once during my climb. After peering out the window and failing to spot me, they had run back into the tower to search the floors above and below. According to Ghost, spirit-Avery was still in the room, but the possessed were either not able to see him or were ignoring him just like I was.

“No,” Ghost said, surprising me. “There is a procession approaching the tower.”

Instinctively, I glanced down, then realized I was still blind. “A procession?”

“It’s the possessed from the council chamber. The one that was in charge.” Ghost paused. “There are over a dozen mages accompanying him.”

“Castor,” I breathed. The elite had returned.

“What do we do?” Ghost asked.

“Nothing but watch and wait.” And hope.

“Should I lure him away?”

“No,” I said sharply. “Castor is an elite. Risking yourself like that is too dangerous. Better I die instead.”

“But—”

“I’ll come back,” I said, overruling her, then drove the point home. “You won’t.”

Ghost subsided.

The seconds ticked by, and eventually I heard the sound I’d been dreading: the trample of many feet. Castor’s party had entered the lounge. Straining my ears, I listened intently.

“Is this where it happened?” a familiar voice—Castor’s—asked.

“Yeah,” Lake replied.

“And you’re sure my debuff tagged him?” the elite probed.

“He definitely didn’t use any abilities that we noticed,” Lake asserted confidently.

“That’s not completely accurate,” Rice interjected.

Robes swished, and I could imagine Castor swinging around to face the other possessed. “Explain,” he demanded.

“We didn’t see the player use any abilities, that’s true,” Rice admitted. “But then, how did he rebuff the spells we hit him with? And what was it that nearly crippled Haril?”

“Resistance skills could explain the first,” Castor said. “And an unseen ally, the second. Didn’t you say he appeared friendly with the marshal, Lake?”

“I did,” Lake replied. “We should bring the dark elf in for questioning.”

There was a pause as Castor considered this. “No,” he said finally. “The marshal is too well liked by the soldiers. We can’t risk alienating them.”

Footsteps approached the window.

“He escaped from here, you said?” Castor asked. From the sound of it, he had poked his head out the window.

“We think so,” Rice answered.

Castor muttered under his breath, and a moment later, I heard a sharp bang.

I dearly wanted to ask Ghost what was going on, but with the possessed elite so close, I couldn’t risk broadcasting my mindvoice.

Ghost anticipated my need anyway. “The possessed has destroyed the remaining bars on the window and is climbing out,” she said.

My alarm growing, I locked my limbs motionless.

Castor whispered the words of another spell.

“Now, he’s standing on a platform of empty air outside the window,” Ghost reported, sounding impressed.

Levitation, I guessed.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you!

At the Game message, I nearly fired a question at Ghost but managed to stay quiet.

“The platform has begun moving. Castor is circling the tower to inspect the area both above and below.”

I stifled rising fear. I was about to find out just how good my stealth was.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you!

A minute passed, then another, and still the elite kept circling the tower. He mumbled to himself as he moved around, and I could only guess at the spells he was casting. But whatever they were, they weren’t good enough to overcome my stealth.

“Find anything?” Lake shouted from the window. It seemed like he was getting patience.

Castor came to a stop. “He’s gone.”

“Do we restore the dome around the city?” Rice asked, poking his head out of the window as well.

“No,” Castor answered. “We don’t have the numbers to maintain it long enough to matter. Have the soldiers search the city again, but I expect they’ll turn up nothing. Our quarry is a slippery one.”

“Alright, boss,” Lake replied. He paused. “What about Avery?”

“Take his body back to court. The archlich will want to interrogate him, I imagine,” Castor ordered as he reentered the tower and exited the lounge.