Chapter 50: Together (Patreon)

“Bingo.” The woman laughs coldly. “Some people don’t deserve to get an easy class and come back to torture everyone around them. So we give them exactly what they want. It isn’t our fault that the system has a hate-on for Worth classes. I mean, look at you–if anyone we gave the coin to was actually competent, they might’ve made it back alive.”

“Still. That’s just… flat out murder with one extra step.” I say, fully expecting to feel disgusted at the realization. But I don’t. Not at all, actually. “How do you choose?”

The man gestures at the woman proudly. “Extensive research on her part before any sale goes through. We always keep a Worth class coin on hand–used to, now–and if we find someone trying to buy a coin who doesn’t deserve to exist, we send the system a hand-wrapped package to deal with. And once it comes back we keep the actual coin for ourselves to dole out to someone who can make better use of it.”

With a grunt, the woman stands up and gestures at the door. “He’s making it seem a lot more valiant than it is. I just check to see if the buyer’s scum, then we swap the coin out before the actual sale goes through. When we saw that you didn’t get floored by the bio-magical pulse from the coin appearing, we gave you the chance to prove yourself.”

I look between the two of them. And… I don’t have an argument. They could’ve easily taken the coin from me back then. Hell, they even egged me on to use it. I don’t know if it’s because they believed I had a chance to survive, or if they thought they could just find the coin again after I instantly died, but they gave me a chance.

“They’re the only reason you met me.” Pearl says quietly. “And Illumisia. I don’t completely agree with their methods… but I also don’t disagree with them. Maybe once I learn more about Earth I’ll lean to one side or the other, but for now… I think you can trust them, Shelby. Not enough to tell them about me, though. Or Illumisia. Or how you actually got the shellraiser tech you’re using.”

“So it's more like a business relationship.” I say aloud, equally as much to Pearl as it is to the two nameless people before me. “I can live with that. You’re Ursula and Noland?”

The man shakes his head. “Not technically. Gave up our old names when we got Class Coins, but we’ve been going by the new ones so long they feel more natural than the old ones. If you want I can come up with an alias for you, and then you’ll have access to the account. Well you’ll still have access to it even if you want to keep going by Shelby. No pressure on the whole thing.”

“I’ll keep my name, thanks.” I say as I reach down to grab my duffel bags. “How’d you find my coins, anyway? And don’t lie to me and say it was luck; I left one of them in the sewers.”

Noland waggles a finger and clicks his tongue. “That is something I won’t disclose immediately. My partner might be blocking our conversation from getting out to the Preservation, but that doesn’t mean I want to go spilling class secrets outside of a safe place. We’ll talk in the car instead.”

The car. They’ve got magic, and quite possibly the ability to teleport, and they drive a car. Something that’s not just conspicuous as hell, but able to be touched by the apocalypse and turned into a metal-magic-monstrosity. I silently voice my opposition as the two stretch and walk out of my apartment like I didn’t just have a blade to Noland’s neck.

“That’s one way to formally meet.” I sigh and heft my bags over my shoulders. “Give me two minutes to write my roommate an apology and I’ll follow you down.”

Ursula shoots Noland a look. “Hey, don’t look at me. You’re the one monitoring their movements.”

She huffs and jumps the railing, landing with her knees bent as she spins a keyring with a pair of metal tags on it around her finger. “Two minutes. If I feel magic, you come down and leave that note half-written. Phones are safe to use where we’re going, so you can call her then.”

I nod and grab the notepad off the fridge, grab a pen from the counter jar, and start writing. As quickly as possible I note everything even slightly important–that I got a class, that I was in the other world for two weeks, and that I’m leaving again for the foreseeable future. I tell her that she should probably start looking for another roommate, and that I’ll send her a few months worth of rent to make up for everything if I don’t end up dead by the end of the month.

Of course I leave out everything that could be incriminating. And that has anything to do with Pearl, Illumisia, or really anything that happened before I got to Palastia. Makes the letter a lot shorter than I intended it to be.

Lifting the pen from the paper feels… empty. There’s so much I didn’t tell her–can’t tell her–and she’ll just have to worry about it. That sucks. Hard. I only met Jazz in first year, and we didn’t even hit it off right away, but she’s been the only person there for me this entire time. As is made even more obvious by her dozens of messages compared to everyone else’s zero.

Against my better judgment I scribble one last line–a promise I know I probably won’t be able to keep–and slide the note into the basket of meds on top of the fridge. Promising myself that I’ll come back for her. That I’ll… tell her everything. She’ll find it there. I know she will. With one last look around the apartment–at multiple wasted years of my life–I palm my keys and feel nothing for the place. Jazz is the only thing I regret leaving behind.

“That was nice.” Pearl murmurs as I lock the door from the outside and try the knob just to make sure. “Even if it’s just a sentiment, I hope it’ll make Jazz feel a little better. Maybe she won’t worry as much.”

It won’t. We probably won’t ever see each other again–just like most people who get classes. Hell, just earlier today, I didn't even think Jazz cared this much about me. But after seeing all her texts… even when it was obvious I wasn’t responding… shit, I just didn’t think anyone cared. I swallow around a lump in my throat and put on the face I think Ursula and Noland are expecting.

Noland smacks the roof of the car with a wide grin as I turn towards it. “Time’s wasting, Shelby. If we want to outrun the Preservation, we’ll have to burn rubber.”

Ursula rolls down the driver’s side window and sticks her head out. “Don’t smack the car.”

He raises his hands and steps away from the car. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry–stop doing it. I’ve told you at least a dozen damn times.” She grumbles and leans back into the car, save for one arm that she gestures back at me with. “You’re in the back. It’s safer there, and Noland will make sure any stray spells or bullets don’t take you from us.”

The trunk pops open with a mechanical click. A golden mist pours out and onto the ground, revealing a lush golden velvet interior that shimmers like an entire jewelry store. Noland mutters to himself about being stuck with ‘backseat duty’ again, but pulls open the right side back door anyway. I shake my head at the absolute contrast between him now and a few minutes ago, place both of my duffel bags in the back, and press the trunk shut as gently as I can. Then I walk to the side of the car, grip the handle with my fingers, and twitch violently as magic pulses through my body.

What I’d only been able to see as a ‘car’ a moment ago is now a vibrant ocean blue muscle car. Modified to be a four-door with a roaring engine sticking through the hood and wave-like patterns of gold that crash against the car’s sides. I blink a few times as the magic cements itself in my body, throw open the door, and slide into a seat separated from Noland by just a few feet. But not before I drop a relocation-filled coin onto the pavement. My last contingency for now.

Ursula adjusts the mirror with one hand and taps on the steering wheel with the other. “Seatbelts.”

I’m already in the process of clicking mine in. But her eyes in the mirror aren’t looking at me–they’re staring a hole through Noland. He rolls his eyes and makes a show of snapping his in as theatrically as possible.

“You forget your seatbelt one time–one time–and she won’t let you live it down.” he sighs. “There, car tyrant. Happy?”

“Yup. Let’s hope we get lucky this time.”

The car screeches against the pavement as Ursula floors it, rocketing out of the parking lot and onto the two-car wide street. I smack against the door with a grunt of pain at the sudden and violent motion, then scramble for the handle above my door with one hand and search for something else with the other. It finds a very sweaty hand, connected to Noland, who looks a little paler than a few seconds ago. And who is also clutching the handle above his door. He offers me an apologetic smile, then pulls down the cupholder insert and grips his side for dear life.

I’m inclined to do the same. Considering we seem to be going about two-hundred in a thirty zone, and every turn feels like I’m going to get thrown out of the car. It’s honestly impressive how well Ursula keeps control of the car at these speeds. But I’m not in any place to be impressed. I’m just trying to keep my seatbelt from crushing me.

Pearl sighs contentedly. Somehow. “I wish I could be out there with you. I miss the rumble and violence of a good machine made with absurd specs and very little concern for whoever has the misfortune of controlling it. Which was usually me, since I was one of the few people who enjoyed it.”

“I’d be very happy to change places with you if I could.” I grind through clenched teeth, but keep my eyes focused on Ursula to make it look like I’m talking to her. “I think one of my fillings is coming loose.”

“You don’t have fillings, remember? Illumisia replaced all your teeth.” Pearl reminds me.

I had, in fact, almost forgotten about that. And the thought is bashed from my head as my head careens off my arm, which in turn smacks against the doorframe. I groan in discomfort, try to steady myself as best as I can, and turn to Noland. Who is definitely getting progressively paler.

“You said we’d talk important stuff when we were in the car.” I state through the vibrations. “We’re in the car now. Talk important stuff.”

“Can it wait until… urp… we get to straight road?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

Ursula laughs from the front as she shifts the gears. “Babies.”

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I’ve never been so happy to see a highway in my entire life. Straight road, no cars thanks to the Preservation evacuating the city, and a serious lack of construction. It’s like every unlikely thing lined up to give us a few dozen minutes of respite from Ursula enjoying driving a little too much.

“Remind me to fix the stabilizing magic before I drive with you again.” Noland groans in discomfort.

“Like I did last time, and the time before that?” Ursula looks back at Noland in the mirror and raises an eyebrow. “Keep forgetting, and I’m going to start thinking that some sick part of you actually enjoys this.”

Noland vigorously shakes his head, then stops suddenly and goes green. “Bad idea. And I definitely won’t forget.”

I unpeel my fingers from the handle and force my hands into my lap. Pearl makes a comment about my state of mind, but the truth is that I don’t feel sick at all. Just… as shaken as a cat in a dryer. It’s everything but my stomach that’s having troubles right now. 

“Okay, important talking now.” I say as I stretch my jaw. “Let’s start with where you’re taking me.”

“That’s barely important. But if that’s what you want to start with, then sure.” Ursula shrugs and leans back a little in her seat. “We’ve got a highly protected resort that’s been modified into a safe place for anyone with a Class. You’ll have a free room, food, clothes, and some entertainment if you want to take it easy between summonings.”

Noland nods ever so slightly in agreement. “There’s another option, too, if you don’t want to sit back and relax. That’s the option that gets you a nearly unlimited budget and access to more important facilities.”

From the way he said that, it doesn’t sound close to legal. And from the look Ursula gives him, he definitely wasn’t supposed to mention it. Not now, at least.

“That sounds… fine.” I say cautiously. “I guess not having to worry about the Preservation or the apocalypse will be nice. You two know my class. You even know about how Worth classes get shit on by the system. How?”

Noland chuckles weakly and gestures at Ursula. “There’s one simple answer for that. Think about it for all of ten seconds, and it’ll–”

“We’re both Worth classes.” Ursula interrupts him. “I’m the Mercenary. He’s the Banker. Our colleague is the Architect, and we’ve both met the Merchant. That’s every single Worth class we’ve ever come across, and we’ve come across a lot of classes. We figured out that there must only be one of each after your class kept reappearing close-ish to where the person used it.”

“Yeah. That.” Noland says with a sigh. “It looks like there’s only one of each Worth class, and each class has a unique set of primary stats. The fact we’ve only seen five of them makes it look like everyone else is in hiding, but… well, let’s just say we don’t think every coin is in use right now.”

I tilt my head to the side at his insinuation. “You think the system summoned the coins where nobody would find them?”

It’s Ursula’s turn to nod. “That or someone has a coin and isn’t using it. We found your coin with this guy’s skill,” She gestures back at Noland for emphasis, “which is the same way we found your spell-infused coins. Can’t tell you the specifics for safety reasons, but there’s a very good reason we aren’t still in Canada right now.”

“Because there aren’t any class coins up there?” I ask with a frown. “That seems really unlikely.”

“Not just class coins–Worth coins specifically.” Noland corrects me. “They give off a completely different feeling than other class coins, and we scoured every inch of Canadian soil for them. We found your coin up in Edmonton, and we’ve been chasing the afterimage of another ever since. I’ll tell you the whole story some other, safer time.”

Pearl giggles in my ear. “Ooh, a hint that you’ll be sticking around with them for a while. They really want you for some reason. Make sure they tell you why.”

That is a very good point. One that’s a little insulting, since my amazing personality should be more than enough for people to want me. Still, I can’t argue that they’re being seemingly very generous to someone that they shouldn’t trust for shit.

“Alright; time for the big question.” I take a deep breath and solidify the connection to the coin back near my apartment. “Why am I actually here?”

“Because you’re a Worth class who came back.” Noland answers without hesitation. “One of only five we’ve got on record. We know how… weak you are compared to the ‘real’ classes, since we’ve gone through it ourselves. They might be able to hold their own on the run, but not you. Not us. We have to stick together.”

He looks up at Ursula, who just nods quietly in agreement.

“Each and every Worth class has a skill that no other class can replicate.” She continues where he left off. “One that works in our world. These skills aren’t reality-warping levels of powerful, but when you put them together, you get a way to make sure everyone goes back to the other world a little bit stronger than they left it. And when we use them on other Worth classes, we can trade services instead of spending Worth to use them.”

Bargaining? What makes Worth classes different is… bargaining. Okay, maybe I’m just not understanding how impactful this actually is. There’s gotta be another layer to this I’m missing. Like… uh… huh. I can’t come up with anything right now. That’s concerning.

I lean on one elbow and glance out the window to watch the scenery whizz past. Fields of fenced-in crops with domes of a tech-magic fusion keep out the apocalypse’s influence as best as possible, but are mostly there to stop cars that get touched from hopping off the highway and ruining a season’s harvest. Trees and everything else grow way taller than they did before the apocalypse, pulsing with magic as canopies threaten to scrape the sky and blot out the sun.

And then there’s all the scrap. Junked cars, things the Preservation couldn’t clean up, and a whole lot of random garbage so tainted with magic that nobody dares go close to it. I swear a broken washing machine growls at us as we speed by, its drum rotating with rusty metal spikes that would make cleaning any clothes a real hassle. Everything is a reminder of how we have to live. The pristine highway under our car is a miracle in that regard, but if I look a little deeper into it, I’d probably see a whole lot of magic worked into it.

“Shelby! The trees!”

My awareness flares at the sound of Pearl’s voice. I snap to the trees, and for a split second, nothing.

Light flashes through the forest. Two at first, like headlights a dozen feet in the air, bleeding bright white through the darkness of the canopy. I poke Noland to get his attention, and as he slowly turns around, the two lights turn into four. Then dozens. Then hundreds. All different shapes, sizes, and intensities. When he finally gets his head looking the right way, the entire section of the forest looks like it’s watching us.

Waiting to strike.

“City limits.” He mutters hastily to himself. “Ursula, are we still in the greater city limits?”

She glances down at her lap, then out the window at the lights. “Fifty miles. Fifteen minutes if we’re not interrupted. Can you hold them off that long?”

Noland snarls as his hands start to drip with liquid golden light. “That doesn’t depend on me. It depends on who the Preservation sent to deal with the dragonjet.”