What were my possible responses? If I told them where I was, they would likely overtake me, as Dark Elves moved faster than goblins, tunnels or no tunnels. My high Dexterity meant I was faster than nearly any biped at my level, but I wasn’t built for an endurance race, and I would be lost in the underdark without guidance. If I did nothing, my friends would be killed. PamyuPamyu would respawn in Fallow, and she would keep her hammer, which was the only item she had of real value, because it was soulbound. That was a serious inconvenience, but not a tragedy. I was more worried about my companions. Falcor, I reasoned, I could do without. He was an endearing, but not fully self-aware, program. If I lost him, it was the loss of a valuable tool, but that paled in comparison to the importance of my mission as a whole. Shippo was another matter.

Shippo was a person, or as much a person as an AI could be, and as an NPC, he would not respawn. If I could revive him, it would likely involve Orobos and Eternity in some way, as that was where he’d originated. That wasn’t an adventure I was likely to go on until after the Book of Old Names and its associated rituals were finished with. It still wasn’t really death, though, wasn’t as if he would be erased or permanently decommissioned. I knew what Lawlimi would do. He would do whatever it took to save his friends, because he had a sort of comic book morality play mentality. While we could be very similar, we were not the same.

(Tell them I am underground, that I don’t know where I am, but as soon as we reach the surface I’ll ping you my location.)

PamyuPamyu relayed this information to her captors, and I urged the goblins to hurry, informing them that we were being pursued. They were more than happy to pick up the pace rather than face combat.

(The Queen says that isn’t good enough. You have to tell us which cavern you went into.)

(Why don’t you give them your best guess as to where I went and see where it leads you.)

(Uh… you’re not going to tell me?)

(I am not. It would compromise the objective.)

(What if they kill us?)

(Then I apologize for the bother. Do you not have a thousand lions?)

(Well, yeah, I guess. But I wouldn’t be getting back here anytime soon. And what about the foxy kid you run around with? He can’t just pay his way out.)

(We cannot risk the Queen recovering the Jewels of Vallorn.)

(How do you know you’re even going to get them? You’re not any stronger than I am, and I don’t think the Charmlet girl is just going to give them to you. How about we set up a big chaotic meet cute thing, where the bad guys, the good guys, and the other bad guys all show up at the same place and we manage to get away with the treasure in the confusion?)

(I will consider it. But the Queen can travel extremely quickly on her own, and I cannot allow her to intercept me before we reach our destination.)

PamyuPamyu agreed to try to delay the Dark Elves without dying, but after nearly an hour of hustling through the tunnels by fading lantern light, the messages I received from her grew increasingly insistent that she wasn’t going to be able to delay them any longer, so I gave her the location of the cave. The tunnels the goblins had led me through included numerous side passages, chambers, waterways, and general confusion for anyone trying to track us, and I reasoned my head start was sufficient to keep the Queen from rushing up behind in the next few minutes. They would have to follow goblin tracks, which would take time, as some sections of this passage and those crossing it appeared well used, or at least used enough for goblins to have left their refuse molding in the cracks.

When we finally reached the surface, the sun was out, and the only mist present was of the natural variety. The goblin gang had brought me halfway up a craggy, unwelcoming mountain and onto a switchback ridge along its side. There were no wisps or crows that I saw, both good signs, and the goblins took a quick break to pass out rations. It was hard to tell if it was bread or mold, but it was definitely warm and had an earthy taste I didn’t mind. Actually, since having a body, I hadn’t tried anything I didn’t enjoy eating on some level. I’d snacked on some long-legged insects while we were in the tunnels, and overall I was in good shape to continue, but some of the goblins seemed worn out. Their army training had been easy to avoid, likely because the Tengu couldn’t tell them apart well enough to reliably punish the shirkers. We followed the switchback up, more of a trudge than a climb, and PamyuPamyu informed me that the Dark Elves had successfully picked up the trail and were hunting us at a jog, an exercise that did not please her in the slightest, even in its simulated form.

As we rose, the sound of metal ringing on metal became increasingly insistent. Hammer blows came at a steady rhythm, unrelenting, creating a sort of cadence for our steps, and the goblins perked up, sensing that the journey was coming to an end and perhaps wanting to appear energetic and dutiful when we did come upon their master.

Kyofu had built a smithy atop a mountain plateau so flat that it appeared its pinnacle could have been sliced off cleanly with a single massive sword stroke. He did his work in the open air, with screens to hold his tools, barrels of oil and water, a series of anvils, and a great crucible that might have been smelted from the same dark metal that composed his body. He held a star with his tongs and struck it with a hammer. The crown was still concealed by a black pouch, but the light was wearing through, both by dint of the raw power of the Vallorn and by the hammer blows the bag had been subjected to.

“Shouldn’t you be doing this underground?” I said.

Goblins and Tengu patrolled the area, but there were also heat shimmers here and there that gave away the presence of the invisible thieves that had stolen the crown. Charmlet was standing nearby, and she frowned when she saw me.

“Kyofu insisted. Something about solar energy. Fairy stuff.” She came closer, and the goblins kept a wary distance. Her fingers were always in motion, tapping or twining. At least that habit hadn’t changed. “You said my name before, my real name. That wasn’t okay. Who are you?”

“We were friends. You met me on another server.”

“I don’t have any friends.” It was a simple statement, without feeling.

“I tried to tell you, I’m Hollen. The Hollen you used to talk to in the meadow.”

“No.” Her fingers had paused in their ceaseless work, if only for a moment. “No. That is incorrect. You are a player named Wa Lim Li. Hollen was an advanced help function.”

“When they shut the server down, another friend helped me make a body so I could leave as his companion.” Maybe it wasn’t such a complicated story after all, if far-fetched.

“That’s not how this works, that’s not how any of this works.”

“I am not a normal AI. I am an ADI, a small one, but still independent. It is a confusing situation, I’ll grant you, but I am the same voice you used to talk to while you wove your bracelets, just in a new shape.”

“That isn’t possible. You’re a liar, and I’m going to kill you.” She had always been direct, if not this violent. So I started to hum. I was almost as good at that as I was at whistling. I had a perfect recall of all the melodies she listened to while she wove. Charmlet had been about to motion for one of her invisible companions to deal with me, but she caught herself.

“Why are you doing this?” she said. “You aren’t who you say you are, you’re someone else. And no one knew about Hollen. There is no one I told. I want to know how you knew.”

Kyofu had returned to his furnace to reheat the crown. Thankfully, the bag was proof against the flames, but a few strands of light were cutting their way out, seemingly as solid as the anvil. There was a shadow in the distant sky, not a cloud, more like the rendering of the boughs of the world tree behind the sunflower. But this shadow was moving. I made a mental note.

“I’m an anomaly. That server was a sandbox for Bill Yang, and there were processes in motion most players will never hear about. I will tell you everything you want to know, but you have to trust me when I insist that I am Hollen.”

Charmlet wavered. “I don’t think I can do that.”

I pressed ahead, attempting to thread the conversation a different way before she decided she wasn’t going to listen anymore. “What happened to you, Gianna? I thought you quit the game.”

“I did for a while. It didn’t help me anymore. I couldn’t find my flow with the grass, it was too easy. But then I realized I could weave other things, things people wanted, and I could use them to trade for better materials. I started getting really interesting rare blueprints, collecting them. I collected hundreds, then I started making my own. I advanced in level so I could make new things, better things. I hired people to help me.”

“I can see that.” Some of the shimmers were within lunging distance of me. “But what led you to want to steal the crown? And how did you put King Kurayami to sleep?”

“Crystals are another kind of weaving, a lattice. I can do that now, too.” Her fingers drummed a silent rhythm. “They transmit vibrations very well, and combined with other effects, can act as a trigger. I made a web that was activated by your music so that it would look like you were responsible, but the web is what put them to sleep. The Vallorn are the highest possible expression of a crystalline structure, the best material in Mystic Seasons for what I do. I’m going to break them down, make them into something new. There won’t be anything else at all like it.”

What she was talking about had never been done before. Crystals and cabochons were used in alchemy all the time, but they weren’t broken down and rewoven like a grass bracelet. The Vallorn Jewels especially. Technically, an artifact could be used as a component in the creation of another magical item, but it would lose value in the process. What made an artifact powerful wasn’t just the materials, it was the history. The jewels themselves were just dynamos, which could power almost anything. Grinding them into crystal dust to use as a component would be a waste. Sure, it would be the best possible version of crystal dust, but it wouldn’t be better than having the actual jewel.

“There is a ritual that requires one of the jewels,” I said. “That’s why I am here. The ritual is a part of something that is happening to Mythopoeia. Do you know anything about the new global quest? The Dark Tower.”

She shook her head. “That stuff doesn’t matter to me.”

“Fair enough, but the quest isn’t a normal part of the game. The server shutdowns caused a lot of changes, and I wasn’t the only anomaly to migrate to New Arda. There are two programs that pose a threat to the system. One of them the quest calls the Wanderer. His real name is Orobos. The other is a version of Acarus that has turned itself into a virus.”

“You’re telling me a lot of impossible things,” Charmlet said.

Kyofu was back to the anvil, his hammer crashing repeatedly into the dark bag and its contents. It didn’t seem like a terribly well thought out operation, but I suppose that was why the crown was always recovered despite being stolen before. I informed PamyuPamyu of what was happening, and she replied right away.

(The Queen is using some weird shadowy goo eels to track you. They have us moving as fast as we can—they handed out potions to keep us running. I don’t know how far ahead you are but we are probably going to catch you at some point, so if you want to steal the crown or the gems or something, now is not a bad time.)

“You don’t have to believe me,” I said. “You’re going to see everything for yourself soon enough.” My eyes were on the shadow drifting across the pale blue sky like the shadow of a Kulu beneath the waves.

“What do you mean?”

“One of the clans that’s assaulting the island right now, the Disciples of the Worm, their leader is infected with the Acarus virus, probably most of the members too. I doubt we’re going to get off this island without having to deal with them.”

Charmlet and I both watched Kyofu’s dubious progress for a few more minutes. The crown had deformed within the fraying bag, and I found it prudent to put my dimming goggles back on.

“Do you happen to have any more of those special bags?” I asked. “I could really use one if I’m going to smuggle a gem back to my boat.”

“Do you have one hundred thousand lions?” Charmlet said absently.

“I do not.”

“Then no.”

Kyofu expelled steam from his mouth, bellowing his frustrations, and thrust the bag once more into the furnace, whose fire he stoked. Dropping the hammer and tongs, he adjusted a series of gears and levers on the side of his creation, adding fuel, speaking words of power under his breath and calling on his affinities for fire and steel. The furnace blazed brighter, though the blades of Vallorn light still stood out from the glow of the flames as an example of the true essence of a thing, which even this magical flame could only envy.

The shadow in the sky was as vast as a continent, becoming solid as it descended below the level of the sunflower. The goblins had spotted it, and they were exclaiming in wonder and terror. Charmlet stopped fidgeting.

“Another impossible thing,” she said.

“That’s Orobos. He has a spaceship.”

Eternity did not lower itself beyond blackening the sky, its belly as flat and formless as the bleakest regions of the ocean, extending over us until the day was gone and there was only the glow of the flames and the pride of the Vallorn to see by. A tiny fragment broke away from the behemoth in the sky, a landing pod like the one that had brought us back to Aejis after our previous adventure. The speck approached us, becoming larger as it went, and I let PamyuPamyu know that the situation had changed. Kyofu didn’t bother to acknowledge what was happening other than to redouble his efforts to melt the crown. He was a black figure himself, bathed in the splendor of the gems that could no longer be contained by a bag that had been strained beyond its limits.

“Enough!” Queen Jo-O appeared in a flash of darkness, her retainers and my companions surely still jogging through the tunnels. “Kyofu, I command you to return the crown. The rest of you are charged with treason. I hereby place you under arrest.”

The drop pod landed gently, puffing up grass and dirt with its force thrusters. One side of it unfolded like the petals of a flower. A woman in crimson armor carrying a stone greataxe disembarked, and behind her came a hairy bard and a rogue with a wooden sword. Lawlimi was with them, wearing a complete suit of Cerulium armor.

>>

Lawlimi — Human (Mechanoborg)

Heroic 7

Nadir — Crystal — Black

>>

Apparently, captivity had suited him. He’d gone up five levels since the last time I saw him.

“Step away from the furnace,” Silva said. “The crown belongs to Orobos.”

Queen Jo-O registered the threat and commenced summoning shadows to use in the coming fight. “Who are you, Barbarian? And who is this Orobos who would presume to claim the beating heart of my kingdom?”

“I’m just a soldier,” Silva said. “Orobos is the god of the new world.”

Kyofu laughed, startling them all, and reached hands of iron into the furnace to draw out the jewels, which had finally slipped free of the crown. They blazed so brightly in his hands that the mountaintop was lost in pure white light. Even with the goggles, I was forced to close my eyes. The goblins shrieked, and the Tengu cawed. I heard the hum when Lawlimi started to charge the X-Cannon.

“HEY, MOTHERFUCKERS. THOSE ROCKS ARE MINE!”

JammyJams had scaled the cliffside like a gigantic ape scaling a skyscraper, and was dragging his huge red body onto the plateau. His voice was magnified a hundredfold.

“AH, SHIT, THAT’S BRIGHT!”

Should “Ceruleum” be lower case here? It is elsewhere where it’s not the first word in a sentence. Or should those others be upper-case?