Once everything’s said and done, I make my way through March’s portal and find myself in the meeting room. Noland’s chatting with Diane and Razi like the three of them are old friends, but the other two are obviously uncomfortable with the attention they’re getting. Someone brought them electrolyte drinks and energy bars to eat, too, though the only thing that’s been touched is Diane’s purple drink.

Right now, they’re turned away from me. Noland noticed my entrance, but they didn’t notice him noticing me. I put on a plastic smile, make sure my mouth is closed to hide my teeth, and prepare for the barrage of questions I’m about to be assaulted with.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you two for a while.” I say as I walk up. “Isla told me you’d be coming. Welcome to the resort.”

Diane frowns, but as she turns, her eyes go wide with recognition. “Shelby?!”

“Shelby?” Razi asks. His words seem to get stuck in his throat as I walk into view. “I… you… we… how do you know Isla?”

Noland shoots me a questioning glance. I wave him off, pull up a chair, and spin it around so I can lean my arms over the back of it. “Long story short; we were friends before either of us got our classes. She went solo, and I got recruited here. I was surprised when she told me she had people coming, and I was double surprised when I found out it was you two. So what happened? Did you get so strong the Preservation decided you were too dangerous?”

My Class Card flickers to let me know I have a message from Noland. I pull it out as casually as I can while Razi and Diane exchange confused, yet relieved glances. He’s asking who the hell Isla is so he can play along better.

“Me in one of those anonymity masks.” I quickly type back one-handed. “The story is that the client hired Isla and Ursula to do the job, not Ursula and me. I’ve been here all along.”

The moment I send the message, Noland’s eyes flick to the upper right corner of his vision. He reads it quickly, then discreetly gives me a knowing nod. Man, how did I ever work with incompetent people? This is just so much nicer.

“Did Isla tell you… everything?” Diane quietly asks. “About… well… everything?”

Sympathy tints my smile. Something darker tints it even further. “Yeah, she did. If you don’t want to explain it yourself, that’s fine. We’re here to protect you from Brandon Highroller and whoever he’s hiding behind.”

“Did you say Highroller? Those douchebags did something to you two?” Noland suddenly cuts in with venom in his voice.

Razi nods. Diane just squeaks confirmation.

“Mother… alright, all my questions just got answered with one name. And I’m not happy about it.” He grimaces and pulls up a chair of his own, finally joining the conversation on the same level as the rest of us. “Highroller’s on their board of directors, which are pretty much the gods of the Preservation. Speakers are physically stronger most of the time, but the board’s got much more influence over how everything works. I won’t ask how you caught king douchebag’s eye, since it’s probably not a fun story, but I have to ask how high he had to go to screw with you two. Did the name Ernest Highroller come up?”

Diane tilts her head ever so slightly. “I… don’t think so. He said his dad’s name was Calvin.”

“Yeah, and his other dad’s name is Ernest. Biggest bastard I’ve ever laid eyes on, and as cruel as a housecat toying with small forest creatures. Calvin and Ernest are both assholes, and when they got married, they paid some woman to be a surrogate for them. They had two kids this way–Brandon and Jennevieve.”

Noland stares off into the distance, like he’s watching a memory none of us can see. “Calvin’s the people person, but Ernest comes out to play when things get really bad. You should be safe if Brandon never called Ernest in, but we’ll have to put you under surveillance when you leave the resort as a precaution anyway.”

“How do you know all this?” Razi asks with suspicion.

“It’s from before I was strong enough to defend myself. When the Preservation was actually worth a damn, and all the maliciously ambitious assholes had to hide in the shadows. Calvin and Ernest slithered out of those shadows before almost anyone else. So, you’ve obviously got questions for us that don’t involve Shelby here or Isla. Fire them at will.”

For close to an hour, Noland and I answer as many questions as we can. My contributions are only about ten percent of the entire thing, but his… well, it almost feels like they’re getting a better introduction than I did. If it wasn’t for the fact that nothing he says is new to me, I would’ve been a little annoyed with it.

By the time we’re done, and Razi and Diane are well on their way to picking out their rooms, Noland’s barely keeping himself together. His hands shake so much that he has to hold them together, his foot bounces incessantly against the floor, and his gaze constantly drifts to completely empty points in the room. Somehow neither of our guest-hostages noticed.

“Okay, they’re picking out their rooms now.” March says through my headpiece at the same time as she slips through the wall. “It’s safe to really talk. Meaning… Shelby, what’s going on?”

Her words might’ve ended with a question mark, but her body language and tone do nothing to hide her blatant excitement.

“About Pearl, you mean.” I chuckle to myself and gently tap her shell. “How long until Ursula gets back? I don’t want to say this–”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

March hurries to the table and nearly slams down a hexagonal… thing. It flickers a few times, and then a holographic projection of Ursula sitting in the pilot’s seat of the helicopter–colour and all–stabilizes so close to reality that I do a double-take.

“This close enough, Gambler? Oh, wait, I gotta secure the line if we’re gonna talk about secrets. Give me… ten seconds…” She trails off and leans out of the projection, then comes right back in with a cube of fluctuating blue material. With a press of her palm, the hologram flickers, then comes back up with a little more static. “Alright, we’re all good. So, before we dip into whatever revelation I’m not aware of, I’ve got a little report of my own.”

Ursula clears her throat for emphasis. “When the krarig disappeared, all the Preservation people had already evacuated. Save for two people, who the comms listed as ‘unintended casualties’. So good for you, Shelby, you got the anonymity you were looking for. Makes me wonder, though; how the hell did you teleport the krarig?”

I blow out a confused breath and wheel my chair closer to the table. “Hell if I know. Even if Noland supercharged the spells, it shouldn’t have done that. Maybe it has something to do with the krarig coming alive; that could’ve made my other targets be seen as a part of the whole, so it took the krarig with it.”

“No, I don’t think that’d work.” Noland shakes his head and scoots in next to me. “If I put a teleportation spell on a heart that someone was going to get as a transplant, and then they get it, my spell wouldn’t suddenly change targets to the person. I’d have to manually change the targets. And judging by your reaction, you definitely weren’t manually changing the targets.”

“Yeah, definitely not.” I vigorously agree. “Fleur got screwed because of it, and the resort was in way too much danger. Hell, you should've felt the spells when you took them over, right?”

“Uh-huh, I did. And there was something in there that felt like a skill, but it was also yours. So I ignored it.” He crosses his arms and makes a pillow out of them, then lays his head down on the table. “If you did something, you didn’t do it consciously. I’d be pissed if you were a veteran like us, but you probably haven’t had enough time to mess around with your skills and see how they really work. When you’re done with this job, I recommend taking the rest of your time before the other world calls you back to do just that.”

A slight shiver races down my spine. I… don’t know why. But something in the back of my mind tells me that he’s right–that a part of my skill I didn’t account for is the reason the krarig appeared instead of the hearts. Though, honestly, I don’t even know how High Stakes could’ve done anything to my coins. And the last time I used Twist Fate was days ago. There’s no way its effects are still ongoing.

…Right?

The bad sensations only get worse as I focus more and more on Twist Fate. But now’s not the time to worry about that. I’ll just have to be careful the next time I activate it. Just in case it messes with more of my spell coins. And… I need to find out how long it lasts. Does it depend on how likely an outcome is? If something’s almost set in stone, could it twist fate for months down the line?

I shake my head. “I’ll find out everything I can. And I’ve got a feeling about where I should start looking.”

“Perfect. I’m going to stop talking now, but I’m going to be paying attention the entire time.” Noland yawns wide, and a sheen of sleep falls over his eyes. “Just in case… March, can you record this conversation so I could rewatch it later?”

March rolls her eyes, but gives Noland a thumbs-up anyway.

“Hey, I don’t want video proof of… you know who.” I emphasize heavily with a raise of my eyebrows. “What if the system puts out a bounty for her? One leaked video and I’m never safe again.”

“You don’t need to worry. I’ve got recording software on a computer with an air gap to any kind of network. The only way someone would steal the video is over my dead body.” March assures me with a small, almost shy smile. “Pearl is completely safe here. We all are. It’s the only reason we feel confident enough to relax every now and again.”

Some part of me wants to distrust them. But ever since I got here, that part’s been getting quieter and quieter. Now it’s screaming as loud as it can, desperate not to be shoved off into the dark recesses of my mind. It’s scared that I’m getting too trusting. Even though it’s not even true. I’m just… choosing a few people I want to throw my hat in with. On the other world, that was Illumisia and Pearl. Now it’s Ursula, Noland, and March.

My shellraiser side and my Worth class side. Guess it’s finally time to open up.

“Alright. Yeah. I trust you guys.” I say slowly and nod to Pearl. “Come on out. They want to meet you.”

Pearl turns away from what I assume is a conversation with Fleur. She’s got the same reluctant aura that I know I have, but she steels herself far faster than I did. Confidence and bubbly anticipation flow out of her in equal amounts, and she steps towards her shell’s opening.

Everyone, even the half-asleep Noland, leans in close as two cosmic black feet underneath a long dress pops out of the shell. March giggles in delight as the rest of Pearl quickly follows, exposing the shellraiser to other humans for the first time. Well, second, but close enough.

“Um, hello, everyone!” Pearl waves shyly. “You don’t really know me, but I’ve seen everything you’re capable of through Shelby. And I want you to know you guys were real jerks to her when you went to recruit her at her apartment.”

She harrumphs and plants her hands on her hips. “That’s not a good way to build trust with someone. In fact, it’s probably at least ten percent of the reason Shelby took so long to introduce me in the first place!”

“Ten percent isn’t a lot.” March points out.

“It is a lot! Especially when the other ninety percent is way more important!” Pearl quips back. “I’m a shellraiser. The system hates my kind more than it does Worth classes, and you should know how much hate that is!”

Ursula chuckles reluctantly. “Not to be a bitch, but I’m pretty damn sure the system hates Worth classes more than anything else.”

“That’s right. Which is why you’ve only seen shellraiser ruins and herd myths of us. Because the system loves shellraisers so much that it killed off anywhere from most to all but one of us.” Pearl says with sickly sweet sarcasm. “The system kills you off. It turned me into a quest item, completely screwed with my sense of time, and imprisoned my friend using our contract as a prison.”

“That sounds like different kinds of hate to me.” March murmurs.

Pearl considers that for a second, then nods. “I think you’re right. But why don’t Shelby and I tell you everything that happened to us, then you can make your own decisions? How about it, Shelby?”

I nod in agreement and lean back in my chair. “Alright. Well, you already know some of this, but it all started with a shellraiser-made teleporter that I thought was a dangerous laser…”