Grand Game 413: The Surrogate (Patreon)

I didn’t quite slam the door behind me. Matters were not proceeding as I had hoped, and instead of a grateful council, I was staring down the possibility of Stormhammer and Lorn reneging on our deal.

The die was cast, though, and I’d done what I could to mend the damage, both that inflicted by Minakawa and my own prior deceit. “Let’s go,” I said to Ghost the moment I barged into the entry foyer. Not stopping, I made for the exit into the corridor beyond.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Not really,” I growled. “But it is out of our hands now. Let’s get some rest. We may have a long day of traveling ahead of us tomorrow.”

If the council—whoever sat on it—didn’t have a positive answer for me by then, I would begin my journey back to the guardian. While I understood the difficult position I’d put Stormhammer and Lorn in—and Elron now, too, I supposed—I tired of the city’s politicking. Either the New Haveners saw through Minakawa’s lies and understood the reasons for my own deception—or they didn’t.

Either way, Farren and his people would see to the city’s evacuation. Meanwhile, I would have to begin searching for the thousand mercenaries I required elsewhere.

“Where are we going?” Ghost asked.

“To our rooms,” I replied.

“What about the girl?” Ghost asked.

I stopped short. I’d completely forgotten about Nyra. Lifting my head. I spotted her standing in the same corner I’d left her with a quizzical look on her face.

Of course. She didn’t recognize me.

But that didn’t stop her from identifying me. “Taim?” she hazarded after a moment.

My clothes and gear had given me away, I guessed. Still, the girl was unusually perceptive to have made the connection so quickly. “Yes,” I grunted, waving her over. “Or, more correctly, Michael. Taim is one of my aliases.”

“More than a mere alias,” she objected. “Your entire face is different!”

I waved aside her words. “An illusion, no more.”

“Fascinating,” Nyra remarked, her eyes glinting. “How did you do it? Can you show me?”

I began to shake my head, then paused, sensing an opening to resume our previous conversation. “I can’t, but the Game can.”

She blinked, instantly understanding what I meant. “You used a player ability, then.”

I nodded.

“I could show you how to obtain similar abilities of your own,” I offered.

She turned away. “Forget it. I’m not interested.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Why not?”

She turned back to me. “Was this the choice you were going to offer me? The opportunity to become a player?”

“Something like that.” I paused, sensing her resistance to the notion. “Why? Don’t tell me you don’t want to become a player?”

“I don’t.”

I arched one eyebrow. “Whyever not?”

She scowled. “How can you ask that? You must know what the possessed are. You’ve killed enough of them, or so I’ve heard!”

“Ah, you’re afraid of the possessed, is that it?”

Her scowl deepened. “I’m not afraid of them. But only a—”

The council doors opened, interrupting her. Someone rushed out. Algar. Turning around, I faced him as he came to a stop before me.

“Captain,” I greeted, my tone noticeably cooler. Right now, I was not feeling all that charitable towards New Haven’s officials.

“Taim…” he began stiffly. “Or do you prefer Michael?” he asked, with more than a hint of a bite to his words. Clearly, Algar was also unhappy about my deception.

“Michael will do,” I replied evenly. “Has the council finished its deliberations already?” If it had, I doubted it boded anything good for me.

Algar shook his head. “No. The First sent me. He said he would’ve come himself, but what with his new position…” He shrugged. “He can’t leave while the council is in sitting.”

“Understandable,” I murmured. “And what message did Elron ask you to deliver? Not a warning to leave the city, I hope?”

“What?” Algar’s eyes widened. “No! The First thinks too highly of you for that. In fact, he sent me to make sure you didn’t leave the city.”

“Why would he do that?” Nyra asked. “And what did you do to make leaving the city necessary?”

Algar shot her a curious glance but ignored her question. As did I. “You can tell Elron I will give him until tomorrow,” I said. “If the council doesn’t have an answer to my request by then, I will begin my search for allies elsewhere.”

“What request?” Nyra probed, but once more, she went unanswered.

The captain nodded. “I’ll tell him. What will you do until then?”

That was a good question and was something I’d been wondering myself. Initially, I’d thought of sleeping, but I couldn’t do that until I’d dealt with Nyra.

“You should train her,” Ghost said, speaking up abruptly.

My gaze slid to the pyre wolf. “Train her? I got the feeling you didn’t like her.”

“I’ve reconsidered. You need allies, Prime. Strong ones, preferably.” Ghost shrugged. “But even half-starved pups can become dangerous one day—especially player pups.”

Smiling, I turned back to Algar. “Tell me, captain. How did New Haven go about turning its citizens into players?”

✵ ✵ ✵

Algar’s brows furrowed. “Why would you—”

Breaking off abruptly, he spun to face Nyra. Reacting almost as quickly, the young woman leaped back, her hand falling to her empty sheath.

But the captain made no aggressive move towards her. “With all that dirt and grime, I didn’t recognize you. But now I remember where I’ve seen your face before. You’re that surrogate!”

I frowned. “Surrogate?”

Algar glanced at me, shock still written across his face. “How did you find her?”

“I didn’t. She found me.”

The captain shook his head. “I can’t believe it. We’ve been searching for her for two years, and the minute you show up, she falls into your lap.”

It didn’t quite happen that way, but I didn’t contradict him.

“Anyway,” Algar went on, “you can leave her with me. I’ll take her into custody.”

My frown deepened. “Custody? What did she—”

“Look out, she’s about to bolt,” Ghost warned.

“Stop, Nyra!” I said sharply, without turning around. “You won’t get far.”

The young assassin stilled.

“Come here,” I ordered.

Reluctantly, she stepped up beside me, and I turned back to Algar. “Now, as I was asking, what did she do?”

Algar’s gaze flitted from Nyra to me. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t know why you want her,” I corrected. “Explain, please.”

“She is a surrogate,” Algar replied as if that clarified everything. But after a lengthy pause when he saw I remained no more enlightened, he went on. “Two years ago, Nyra underwent her player identification tests. The mages put her through the divining rings, and she was marked as a potential player. We lost her shortly thereafter, though, and have been searching for her ever since.”

“Lost her!” Nyra muttered. “You mean, I escaped.”

I glanced at her. “I take it that the testing was not voluntary?”

She snorted. “Of course not.”

“Forced testing,” I murmured. “Does everyone in New Haven go through it?”

“Yes,” Algar replied, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s mandatory for every New Haven citizen upon maturity.”

I could tell from the captain’s queasy expression how distasteful he found the whole notion, yet he’d not answered my original question. “But what is a surrogate?”

It was Nyra who answered. “It’s what New Haven calls those of us lucky enough to be chosen as hosts for the possessed,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Algar winced at her tone but did not disagree with her statement.

“Are there any more surrogates in the city at the moment?” I asked softly.

The captain shook his head. “There has never been more than one born every few generations.”

“Much to the council’s dismay,” Nyra added bitingly.

Ignoring her, I stayed focused on Algar. “I take it then, running away when one is a surrogate is a crime?”

He nodded. “The possessed see to it that the city is punished when that happens.”

My lips thinned. I could only imagine how the archlich’s people would have reacted to the loss of their ‘fresh bodies.’ It was not a subject I wanted to dwell on, though. “But that is all in the past now, isn’t it, Algar? With Castor and Loskin dead, there is no further need for the tests or for the city’s players to give themselves up.”

The captain opened his mouth, then frowned, and closed it again. “The council hasn’t passed any decrees on the matter yet,” he said finally, “but I suppose the tests’ banning is… inevitable.”

“I think so, too,” I murmured.

“Wait! What?” Nyra blurted.

I turned to her. “You didn’t know?” I asked with feigned surprise. “The archlich is dead, and the possessed’s forced culling of New Haven’s players is over—for good.”

✵ ✵ ✵

It took even longer than I expected for me to convince Nyra that the possessed were no longer to be feared. By that time, the young assassin, Algar, and myself were sitting down at supper in one of the fortress’ many dining halls—an empty one—while Ghost crunched her way through her own food on the floor beside me.

Nyra ate with the typical enthusiasm of someone half-starved, wolfing down portion after portion without pause. Finishing my own plate, I turned to Algar. “Now that we’ve established being a surrogate isn’t a crime, or rather, shouldn’t be one, I presume there will be no more talk of taking Nyra in custody?”

“There won’t be,” he agreed. “I will also pass on word to the city watch. “No one will try to arrest her.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Does that mean I can get my dagger back?” Nyra asked between mouthfuls of food.

“No,” I replied without even turning to look at her. “Incidentally, Algar,” I continued casually, “Is Nyra here wanted for any other crimes?”

The young assassin stopped chewing.

Algar’s brows creased. “Not that I know of. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Just an idle query, nothing of import,” I replied.

Nyra’s mouth resumed moving.

“That, though, does bring me back to my original question,” I said.

“Which was?” Algar asked.

“How did New Haven turn its potential players into players? After all, before a surrogate could become, well, a surrogate, they would have needed to be turned into fully-fledged players first.”

Algar leaned back. “Ah, I see where you’re going with this. The mages keep a cache of artifacts in their tower for just this purpose. I’m not sure what they are—” he shrugged—“but they work.”

Pushing away from the table, I rose to my feet. “Then let’s go have a look, shall we?”