Chapter 64: An Unexpected Meeting

Petrolious was a steadfast player who had almost a dozen contract marks to his name. This made him quite well known for his day and age, but it is not why he is remembered. Never forget, the way a player comports himself is far more important than the deeds they achieved and the renown they earned. What a player does in the moments in between combat and going to bed is what legends are made of.

-The Legends of Esem, by Dunki

“I know you are Spade,” hissed Meredith into his ear. “Follow me. Now.”

Feeling like a lamb being selected for the slaughter, Chase motioned to a concerned looking Brent that everything was fine. The others were too concerned with Claire’s impending battle, which was soon to be underway as Christie was handing out their magical blades and was telling them the rules. Brent shrugged and then returned his focus to the match.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Chase whispered back.

“I don’t care,” said Meredith. There was something in her tone which brooked no argument. She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “This way, guild leader.”

Chase sighed but allowed himself to be dragged, once again, away from his guild. Soon he found himself alone in the same alley he had just talked in with Claire, and wondered to himself why it was his life involved so many conversations he never wanted to have.

“If you didn’t notice, Claire is about to fight,” said Chase once they were alone. “I really need to be watching this.”

“It can wait,” said Meredith brusquely. She stared him dead in the eyes. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

“Not really, no.”

Her eyes flashed with rage and her breathing quickened. He was reminded for a moment of Claire, but instead of hyperventilating over guilt here was a woman who looked about to smack him to death.

“You’re actually Spade the Thief, from the Old Guard, aren’t you?”

“Why would you say that?” Said Chase. He examined his nails and tried not to look at her as he lied.

“Because Seb told me,” she responded.

“Seb?” Chase looked up sharply. That was an odd thing to hear. “That little liar who hates Thomas? He is clearly making it up.”

“That little liar told me months ago that he heard you talking about...what was it? Respawning on the island and how you once were Spade.” She crossed her arms. “Sound familiar.”

“I have no idea what—.”

She cut him off.

“He said he was snooping outside the library where you were having a meeting with Thomas and Alex about your contracts. It was the same day he was pranked in the bathroom with that stink bomb-likely by Thomas.”

Suddenly a memory of that afternoon wafted though his memories. Thomas had asked him to cover for him about some mischief, and Alex was being difficult about his starting contract. The memory of a strange, foul, odor came back to him as sharply as a pin prick.

“You remember,” said Meredith. Her eyes bored into his head. “I can tell. When Seb told me the first time I didn’t believe him, but after the attack I put two and two together.”

Chase tried to make his face and voice as steady as possible.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, but how would it be connected to Seb being attacked?”

“Those people who attacked him were clearly looking for you,” she said. She looked like she wanted to stomp her foot in frustration, or murder him. “You’re guild is the one in the paper, right? The Seven Stains? I should have realized it then. The Antagonista thing targeted you because of who you really are, then you beat it, and now its looking for you and your guild. And my guild got hurt as a result.”

“Keep your voice down,” said Chase, looking around. The sounds of the fight were loud and folks were cheering, but as she spoke she got louder and he was worried about being overheard by a passing player.

“So it’s true?”

Chase wanted to curl up and die.

“Partly,” admitted Chase. He sighed. “Fine. Yes. We fought with the Antagonista, but I didn’t want the news spreading.”

“Why not? If my guild had done that I would want the world to know.”

“Because...you know, it might draw unwanted attention,” he said lamely.

“No. Because you are actually Spade the Thief, right?”

A great cheer came from the arena, and as much as Chase wanted to turn around and leave this conversation in order to watch Claire, his feet refused to move. What did it matter what Meredith suspected of him? He could easily deny this as the fantasies of a young boy and move on. Then he thought about Seb, bruised and battered by those players he said were wearing masks.

“Look,” began Chase. He hesitated. “I barely know you. We competed once on the training island. Whether I am this person you suspect or not, you have to realize that it wouldn’t matter one way or the other.”

Just as she was opening her mouth with indignation Chase pushed his sleeve up on his left arm.

“What do you see?”

“Your Hunter contract mark.”

“And how many do I have?”

“Only one,” said Meredith with a frown. “But—.”

“And how many did Chase have?”

“I don’t know,” said Meredith, shaking her head. “But it doesn’t matter, you could have—.”

“Now look at my face, Meredith. Do I look like Spade? Really look at me.”

Now Chase stared at her as she thought about his words and examined his face. For the first time doubt crossed her features.

“I only saw a couple pictures in the Post,” she mumbled. “Yeah, you’re faces are not the same. But that still doesn’t mean you aren’t him. Or that you’re not the reason Seb was hurt,” she added sullenly.

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“I’m sorry about Seb. But if they attacked him because of me it’s not because of some outlandish story. We fought with Xemnara and we defeated her. Honestly, I don’t think this attack was connected at all.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Then why would Seb tell me this?”

“He must have been mistaken as to what we were talking about,” said Chase. “That’s the only explanation.”

“He misheard, eh?” Said Meredith. She sounded unconvinced. “So you are telling me, right now, that you are not or have never been Spade the Thief of the Old Guard?”

“Haven’t I already said that?”

“Nope. You haven’t denied it yet.”

What would Solomon do, wondered Chase. Suddenly his memory was reminded of a distant event in the early days of the Old Guard, back when they were just a fledgling guild with only four players. They had been trying to infiltrate a guild strong hold—something that no player their level had any business in doing-when they had been spotted by a guard. Karkren had knocked him unconscious, but Solomon knew the guard may awaken at any minute to spoil the plan. After some back and forth, their leader had drawn his sword and done the most logical, and the most cruel, act Chase had ever witnessed.

“I’m not Spade,” said Chase. “I spawned along with Alex and Amelie. You can ask them.”

Meredith look defeated, and she crossed her arms and sighed. For a moment she looked away from Chase as she gathered her thoughts. Chase had no idea what was going through her mind, but overall he thought he had made the right decision. No matter what Seb had told her it was his word against a little boys. A little boy who was a known liar—at least in his mind—and an unfortunate situation that could have happened to anyone. The fact that the AION post had written about his guild and he was able to confirm their involvement with the Antagonista likely aided his case.

“Fine,” she said at last. “It doesn’t matter one way or the other, but Seb did get hurt because of you guys.”

“You might be right about that,” said Chase, trying to agree with her. He had found in his life that admitting to small things could often gloss over the larger ones. “And after this tournament we are going to find these masked players who did that to him. I promise you that.”

“Really?”

“Of course, in fact—.”

But he was cut off by a dry coughing at the end of the alley.

“If promises were coins I’d be rich,” said a man in a mask. He was dressed simply in dark leathers and was flanked on either side by a two more players in masks. They were both taller than he and were holding wooden cudgels. Chase heard the crunch of gravel behind him and turned just in time to see another pair of masked players blocking the exit.

“What do you want?” Said Meredith, obviously trying to keep her voice calm. Her hand went to her hip where here hunters dagger was sheathed. “And why the masks? They look ridiculous.”

“The tournament is that way, guys,” said Chase, pointing behind him past the two players. He also placed his hand on his dagger. He had pressed himself against the wall the moment he saw they were surrounded so that he could watch all the players without having to spin around.

“We have no interest in that pathetic display,” said the man. His mask was black with little silver swirls painted around the eyes and mouth. Now Chase saw that along with the mask he had his hood up unlike the others.

“Then what do you want?” Said Meredith. “Me and my friend were having a conversation.”

“He’s a friend?” Sneered the man. The other players laughed behind their masks and Chase thought he could make out at least one female among them. “Ought to be more careful with choosing friends, woman. I make sure I only have the best around me. Not some traitorous scum with a single contract mark.”

At the word of ‘friends’ the man had raised his arms to indicate to the others. The others all laughed but it was a darkly hallow sound, as if there were a sick joke that had been shared among them at Chase and Meredith’s expense.

I have my dagger, and my bow in my bag, thought Chase. If I try to remove my bow they will jump us, plus it wouldn’t by much help in this alley.

Without knowing what contracts, or how many, this group had between them, their chances were not looking good. They would have to play this very carefully in order to make it out alive, depending on what the masked men wanted in the first place.

“Are you the ones who hurt Seb?” Said Meredith. Her voice rang in the alley as blunt as a smith striking steel.

“You mean that little thief?” Said the masked man beside the leader. “Yeah, that was us. We were supposed to get another little boy but ran into him.”

The leader looked sharply at the one who spoke and hissed.

“Shut up, idiot! They don’t need to know anything,” he said. And then he turned back to face Chase and Meredith and despite the mask Chase could feel a grin beneath the wood. “Of course, they won’t be getting out of here alive, so what does it matter, anyway?”

Another great cheer from the arena, and any hope that they would be heard died within Chase. There was too much attention on Claire’s fight which killed the chances this was about to be noticed by anyone.

“You want to kill us?” Said Chase, trying to stall for time. One of the men behind him had begun to advance forward, but stopped when he spoke. “Why? Who are you people?”

“Because we were told—,” began the man who had spoke, but was cut off when the leader punched him in the gut, doubling him over and ending his words.

“Never you mind that, Chase,” said the leader. Suddenly he hefted the cudgel and the men about them all did the same.

“Strange choice of weapon,” said Meredith. “Why not use your real weapons? I’m starting to think you don’t mean to kill us at all. Is it money you’re after?”

“Money means nothing to the Followers,” said the leader, beginning to advance.

“Followers? Is this some kind of cult or something?”

“What does it matter to you?” Said the leader. “Now be a good girl and don’t draw that dagger.”

Meredith drew the dagger anyway, and Chase followed suit. Now the masked players charged them, but only the leader seemed confident in what he was doing. Seeing the dagger in Chase’s hand made the two at the end of the alley pause, giving Chase just enough time to lunge for the nearest one.

I wish we had all left, was the last thing Chase thought as he watched the player he had aimed for easily smack his hand away, the dagger clattering agains the wall to land on the ground. His hand throbbed with the hit from the cudgel and he instinctively moved backward.

“Chase!” Cried Meredith.

He risked turning around just to see the same had happened to her, only her face was bloody and she was on her knees. Both of the masked men were on either side of her holding out stretched arms while the leader stood before her, cudgel raised.

Chase felt a tremendous blow to his back, and he fell to his knees, then another to the side of his head. Suddenly the world was sideways and he was staring at Meredith as she was tossed to the ground beside him. He cursed his impotence and the lack of power he had. Soon the men were kicking both of them mercilessly and he felt as though the beating would never stop.

“Enough!” Said the leader, holding his hands up. The five players were standing around them in a ring as their heavy breathing filled the space. “Chase, you alive?”

He groaned. He blinked. Their masks were fuzzy and he felt the lights going out around him. Meredith seemed just as bad and her face was already swelling where she had been hit.

“Great,” said the man with satisfaction. “I hate it when the weak ones black out before the good part. Lads?”

Five cudgels were raised into the air.

“For Xemnara!”

The last thing Chase remembered was a hail of blows from above as the darkness took him.

Chase came out of the blackness only to find he was on the ground with a ringing headache and his body felt as though it had been trampled by a team of horses. Every inch of his body hurt and Meredith seemed totally unconscious, and blood pooled around her head and matted her hair.

“..should we do now? I think we went too far.”

“We should just kill them and be done with it.”

“No,” said the leader. “Those weren’t the orders. We just make them wish they were dead and we can leave.”

“Why do you always get to make the decisions?” Came a woman’s voice. “I say we just kill them, otherwise they will come after us.”

“I make the orders,” said the leader. “Because I am the only one who met Xemnara.”

“You never met her,” said another, gruff sounding man. “I agree with Agni—let’s kill them.”

“Yeah,” said the woman. “These two aren’t even the important ones, right? We can end them here and still send a message.”

“No,” fumed the man. “There’s no need to.”

“You’re nothing but a stupid schlub,” said another. “Why are we listening to you anyways? We are players. We can do what we want.”

“We serve the same master,” said the leader, his voice going deathly quiet. “And I would be careful with that word were I you. We are equals. We are Nobodies.”

“Yeah, right,” laughed the woman. “You are nothing compared to us—no matter what Xemnara says. And I say we waste these two.”

Meredith groaned and began to rustle beside Chase.

“Now look, she’s awake!” Said one of the players. “We gotta kill them now. They probably heard you idiots talking.”

Chase heard a knife being drawn, and then some commotion.

“I’ll do it—“ began one of them.

“No,” said the woman. She sounded flat and emotionless. “Let the schlub do it.”

“What? But I—.”

“You’re one of us, right? Prove it.”

“But...I...”

Chase heard the knife exchange hands, and the leader sighed.

“Fine, but then we go.”

Chase opened his eyes then and tried to raise his arms. He saw the five figures standing around them. He tried to move his mouth to cry out but no sounds came forth, and his arms felt like they weighed as much as tree trunks.

“This one’s awake, too, looks like,” said the woman.

“He’ll have to wait his turn,” said the leader grimly. He got down on his knees, dagger raised. “Ladies first.”

The leader took a deep breath.

“One...two...three!”