Peter’s mum had to circle the block a few times before a park freed up, but soon they found themselves inside the shop looking around. One side was clearly dedicated to the serving of cake and caffeinated beverages, the other looked like a traditional library with faux mahogany shelves housing replica books. While the cafe side boasted wrought iron tables and chairs the library side had massive leather couches and armchairs for patrons to enjoy. People of the bookish persuasion wandered freely between the two areas, sometimes carrying spill-proof mugs into the stacks where they could scan a book’s spine and have a sample chapter uploaded to their account, sometimes emerging, blinking, into the better lit cafe area to purchase full copies and takeaway snacks to enjoy elsewhere. A week ago it would have been Peter’s idea of heaven.

His mother spotted the lady she was scheduled to meet at a table and gave her a polite wave, but ensured Peter had found a nice upholstered armchair in a corner amongst the shelves to wait in, then flagged down as passing server for him. Her whispered order was inaudible over the hubbub in the cafe, but the conspiratorial grin they shared left Peter hopeful.

Peter thanked her and watched as she weaved her way through the bookshelves and occupied tables to where a blonde lady in a trenchcoat sat alone. He watched as his mother sat and leaned in close. What happened next he would never know because the waiter arrived with his drink and blocked the view. Frustrated, he stiffly thanked the server and placed the lidded cup in the recess in the side table next to the chair.

Looking around, Peter saw several other people in similar chairs staring off into space or sitting with their eyes closed. This was clearly the place for consuming digital media in public, so he decided it was worth logging in, but first made sure a warning was set to kick him out if someone came close. Just in case.

As Peter faded into the world, the first thing that hit him was the smell of hay. The second thing was a pair of hooves, right to the head. The stall he had chosen to log out in was no longer as empty as it had been and he had just learned the hard way why you don’t sneak up behind a horse.

The massive head trauma the surprised equine had just inflicted was almost enough to force him to log straight back out again, but Peter persisted, determined to maximise his time online on his last day. The pain faded, the box formed and soon he was pulling on the velvet rope again.

As the sarcophagus opened Peter interjected with Jacob’s catchphrase before the man could open his mouth. “Good morning sunshine!”

“Goo… hah! Peter! By the Avatars you’re like a dodgy copper, you keep turning up.”

Peter reached out a hand for an assist. “Thanks Jacob, good to see you again. I just got a very close look at a horse’s hoof and man do I have a splitting headache!”

Jacob shook his head and helped Peter out. “My boy, you’re getting a bit too familiar with this place. You do know I have to dig you up every time, yes?” He rubbed the small of his back. “Could you try not dying for a bit? These old bones can't take much more.”

Bowing with a flourish, Peter assured the old man that he would indeed do his best to stay alive for a day or two. “No promises though,” he shot over his shoulder has he climbed the ramp to the graveyard.

Passing his own dug-up grave, Peter kicked a clod of dirt at the headstone. The clod bounced off and fell into the hole, eliciting a yelp from within. A shovel was flung up and tumbled across the grass, followed by a grimy figure clambering out. “Right, who threw that? I’ll ‘ave you mate! Oh, hi Peter!”

Peter peered at the dirt encrusted humanoid in confusion. “Dani? Is that you?”

Dani, for it was indeed her, extracted a handkerchief from one pouch on her belt and a waterskin from another. Wetting the cloth she tried to clean her face. The result was a slightly lighter shade of brown. “Better?”

Suppressing a chuckle, Peter just gave her a thumbs up. “It’s a good look on you, honest work give you this… glow.” A wet, dirty handkerchief came flying at his face, making him duck.

“Oh, so you’ll bravely face a massive sword, but can’t handle a little bit of cloth? My hero!” she mocked him as she climbed out of the hole. Today Dani was wearing a pair of cotton trousers instead of the ruffled skirt and stockings he’d last seen her in. The belts of the sheathed daggers made the pants cling and hang weirdly. Dani noticed the strange expression on his face. “Workpants, look terrible, great stats for getting dirty jobs done quick though. Do you know Appraise? Give it a go.”

It was the first time a girl had ever asked Peter to look at her pants, normally it was quite the opposite, but when he did so the notification brought a whistle to his lips. “Seriously? Increased Endurance, Strength, shortened cooldowns on resource gathering skills and no prerequisites?”

Dani plucked at the cloth. “Yeah, but they’ve bugger all Durability and they look like crap too. I only wear them when I’m working where nobody sees. Now, turn around so I can change.”

Peter dutifully about-faced and studiously examined the brick wall surrounding the graveyard until the sounds of cloth rustling had subsided. “Can I turn around yet?”

“I’m not fully dressed, but I suppose so. Don’t get any funny ideas though.”

Cautiously turning back, Peter found her fully clothed as far as he could tell. Dani was leaning against a gravestone and doing up her boots. “I thought you said you weren’t dressed?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Dani gestured to the assorted weaponry spread out on the grass beside her. “I’m not. Give me a tic, these take a bit to get sorted.”

As Dani pointed to each blade Peter handed it to her and it was strapped in place. Wearing a small armoury as she was, Peter wonder wondered how she didn't clank with every step. “How do you manage all that? It must weigh a tonne.”

Dani just gave a tight lipped smile. “When you start adventuring as young as I did, you get used to it. Citizen or Traveller, not everyone is as honorable as you are. I've had to stick each of these into somebody at one time or another.”

Peter's eyes widened in shock. Dani couldn't be any older than he was, and yet needed to defend herself so aggressively from inappropriate attentions. The thought turned his stomach.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something a small metal bird arrived and alighted on Dani's shoulder. Tilting her head as she read the message the little egg unfolded into, she pulled a small coin from a pouch and held it out. When the bird's beak closed over disc she whispered something in the tiny avian ear before the construct gave a high pitched whistle and flew off with its prize.

Hiking up her skirts Dani held out a slightly dirt stained hand. “Momma needs me, mate. Can we play ‘who has the saddest childhood’ later?”

Clasping the outstretched hand Peter replied, “Later then. I'd win though. Um, if you want to catch up later, how can I get ahold of you? Do I call the birdie thing? How do you do that?”

“Nah, those things are too expensive for short distances unless you’re made of money,” Dani began digging through another of her seemingly bottomless pouches. “Take this ring and put it on. When you want to meet up just say my name loudly and clearly. If I'm in the county this little crystal here will turn blue. I'll meet you at Dave's as soon as I can.”

Placing the piece of jewelry on his finger, Peter gave it a closer look. The simple copper band had four small clear crystals set into it at regular intervals. “Dani,” he spoke her name firmly. On her left hand a matching ring with the same number of crystals began to emit a blue glow.

“Peter,” Dani replied. His ring glowed in a matching hue. “They're party rings. When adventurers team up they can use these to keep tabs on each other. This cheapie one just does alerts, but I saw a shop in Oldcastle with gold ones that'll tell you how your whole team's doing. Cost an arm and a leg though. Never had cause to need one o’ these before today.” She lifted the ring up to eye level. “Seems like the right thing to do though. Y’know? I got a feeling you’re going to be a good team mate if you can stay alive for more than ten minutes.”

With a smile on his face and a warm glow in his chest, Peter’s response was a simple “I know.”

“Now, I was on my way outta here and I really haveta run now. See ya Petey!” Dani gave him a punch on the arm and legged it out the gate. As she ran she called out some arcane words that Peter could not quite make out and out of nowhere three streamers of dark cloud spiraled around each other to coalesce into a jet black horse. Dani leapt onto it’s back and galloped off.

“So. Jealous.” Peter mumbled to himself. He considered dropping into the Inn to see if there were any new jobs posted, but thought it might be best to just check on the real world first. Since it was so close by, Peter decided to log off in his house. Pulling out the key he nipped into the church and found the right door.

On stepping through, something felt a little off. I could have sworn there was a staircase here, he thought. Indeed, the hallway merely led out to the kitchen in the back with doors leading off left and right. Peeking around the nearest he found it still opened into the same lounge room with the crackling fireplace and all the chairs he expected to see. Maybe I was imagining it? Bemused, Peter wandered down the hall, checking out each room as all thoughts of logging off fled in favour of curiosity.

“Lounge room, bedroom, bedroom, study, kitchen,” he counted off the rooms as he went, until, “back yard?”

Enclosed by a tall red brick wall, the cobbled yard was easily as big as the house itself. To his right stood an open stable with room for a couple of mounts, but it looked and smelt old. Nothing had been housed here in a long time and the few tools he could see hanging on the walls were more rust than metal. The clouds in the grey skies above hung low and oppressive, but without the threat of rain. They were just gloomy and dark. Sitting opposite the back door of the house, in the middle of the wall was a heavy wrought iron gate. The thick metal bars looked like they could hold off a marauding army, but they still allowed an only mildly obscured view of the fields beyond, the golden stalks of a hay crop waving in the slight breeze.

Past them was nothing at all.

The clouds overhead formed a dome that touched down on the other side of the field, creating a gently churning wall obscuring anything else. To Peter’s mind there could be nothing else, they seemed to delineate the real from the unreal. He decided not to test that hypothesis.

Suddenly gravity seemed to lurch to the side. A flashing red icon in the corner of his vision warned of immediate logout. The world dissolved, replaced by a bustling bookshop.

“C’mon bucko, grab your drink,” Peter’s mother was pushing him, not particularly gently, on the shoulder. “I guess you found a good book, you’ve barely touched this.” She held out his cup.

Where was my warning? he wondered frustratedly. Ah, damn it. That’s why. At the bottom of his vision a confirmation box remained unchecked.

Accepting with as much grace as he could muster, which honestly wasn’t much, Peter followed his mum back to the car. A movement caught his eye as a manila envelope slid out of sight into his mother’s handbag. In the brief glimpse he caught it had looked well stuffed, though what it was stuffed with was anybody’s guess.

“So,” Peter sipped his drink, “where next?”

The car horn blipped as they approached. “Now we’re going to drop past my office. I have some paperwork to drop off and you, buddy boy Jim, are going to keep your head in the real world. We’re not going to be long and I don’t need you spacing out.”

“Ok Mum,” Peter climbed into the passenger seat again while trying to hide a grin. It wouldn’t be particularly difficult to stay out of the digital if they were going to his mother’s workplace. It was an all-female advertising bureau that specialised in promoting goods and services to ladies in the eighteen to thirty age bracket. To Peter’s teenage hormone riddled brain it was the HOT bracket. On the few times he had been lucky enough to accompany his mother to the office he had been awestruck by the natural talents of the employees. It sucked that his mum mostly telecommuted, working from wherever she was when inspiration struck, instead of having regular office hours like his dad. He would definitely have made more excuses to visit if that were the case.