It was a relief to have found Felegum. We had two loci, one focus, and maybe even one person who understood how to play this game.
The sorcerer ran toward the sound of my voice and I was so happy to see another living person here who was my friend and not a dwarf that I forgot I was invisible. It was only when Felegum was clutching me by the shoulders that I realized we were running into an impediment.
Namely, me, not being on the visible spectrum anymore.
“You can let go,” I said.
“Oh.” He did not. Maybe he liked to know where I was when we talked about plans and strategy.
We discussed where we’d been so far and it seemed like Felegum had a plan. Or, at least, that Dronie was dispatched usefully on some business elsewhere and the mage was keen on tracking him down.
Muffled footsteps echoed through the maze, and the announcer’s voice again reverberated through the halls:
“Song and Dance Crew: two focus, one loci (E). Dwarves of Egonia: two focus, zero loci. Traps engaged.”
I made an incoherent noise in the back of my throat. Zombies had been one thing.
“Ugh traps,” I said. “Felegum, I’m going the southern path.”
I went in that direction for a bit, narrating as I went because invisibility made everything I did a comedy special. “Uh, it’s a hallway,” I said, dumbly. “Did you not explore that? Or were you expecting a room?”
Felegum caught up with me. “So that was taking the southern route,” he wheezed, sounding out of breath.
“Where do I go from here?” I asked. I still had no idea what would be most useful at a time like this. What was the game we were even supposed to be playing?
“The western route,” Felegum replied, although this sounded a hell of a lot more like a question than I liked.
“…Okay.” I could go west.
The disembodied voice cut through my careful picking of my way westward. “Focus G, incorrect loci. Returning focus to original location. Song and Dance Crew: two focus, one loci. Dwarves of Egonia: one focus, zero loci.”
Well, at least we hadn’t missed a locus or whatever.
And, to my delight, a new opportunity presented itself.
“Felegum!” I hissed into the corridor behind me. “I found a door!”
Zombie sounds croaked up from the south.
“Ah shit,” I said sotto voce.
“Focus D, E wrong locus. Return to original locations. Song and Dance Crew: zero focus, one loci. Dwarves of Egonia: one focus, zero loci.”
Well, I thought grimly at the door, how the tables had turned.
Suddenly, a wall collapsed. I had skittered away from it (because that was wholly unexpected and also like, dangerous), but Felegum stepped through, utterly unharmed.
“Set, Set!” he called. “There’s a zombie over here!”
“Oh my god,” I said, knowing the collapsed wall would only draw it closer. “I found doors!”
The announcer reported no change in score, so taking this to be a good sign, I approached the new paths unfurling before me.
It was not a good sign. The new paths were awful. At one point, darts shot at me from behind, two hitting my back, and at another point there was fire. I dodged the fire by clinging to the walls like a weird invisible spider, and I plucked one dart from my back and dropped it behind me as a warning to my compatriots. It became visible once it detached from me, which was cool, even if it hurt.
Most annoyingly, though, my skin was now coated in this weird oil.
“Ew,” I said. “I should have listened to Felegum about this path.”
I could almost imagine the faraway voice of the sorcerer saying, “I told you so!” and then “Dronie, save me!”
I was starting to really miss my friends.
Somewhere, dimly, the same score repeated itself. I reestablished my good opinion of myself by unlocking a door. I was rewarded with a small hallway and another locked door, as well as a trap I spotted in the wall (also involving fire). Having had quite enough of that and remembering that now being soaked in oil I was an especially good target for crisping, I fomented a plan.
On my broom, I floated over the tile that would, when depressed, activate the flame trap. I lockpicked midair, a skill that I was becoming better and better at these days, and opened the door, floating through.
Dimly, in the background, the announcer repeated the same score. I registered it only partly because most of my mind was occupied with the expanse of pots, pans, and food before me.
At last, I had found somewhere good in this terrible place.
The kitchen.
I was ready to step in and explore further when I caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance. Examining the cutlery and banquet tables with the air of someone who knew how to use all of the forks, even the tiny ones, was a familiar purple figure with bagpipes.
“Oh my god, Zeno!” I yelled, invisibly. “I’m over here! How are you here?”
Zeno’s eyes roved the room to the south, where I was, and eventually picked a point on the wall that felt likely and spoke to that. “Well, I think there’s a focus here.”
“I don’t even know what that is,” I said. This was actually pretty nice, because 1) I could finally get information and 2) no one could see how stupid I looked because no one could see how I looked, period. Perfect solution.
Zeno explained that we were looking for strange objects, specifically objects that seemed out of place. Once we had one, we needed to find the right portal, or locus, where it went. Put a focus into the wrong portal and you ended up with a sad, defeated noise and the focus returned to its original location.
As usual, though, Zeno had a plan.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning to a wall sconce. “I need your pasty arms.”
I looked at my brown skin. Was it possible that Zeno, after many long years of traveling with me, had forgotten what I looked like now that he couldn’t see me? “Uh.”
“Oh yeah,” he said distractedly, “your arms are pretty dark. Anyway, come here.”
I came thither. Zeno was standing next to what appeared to be a heavy ball on a platter.
“I see what you mean about it being out of place,” I said. “But how are we supposed to move it– oh.”
“Yes,” Zeno agreed, rolling up his sleeves.
“Okay, hold on. I’m going to cast a spell.” I rummaged in my things for the components. “I’m like, right next to you, so don’t be surprised when I pop back into existence because this is going to break my invisibility.”
And thus, I cast a strengthening spell on Zeno and myself. Between the two of us, we could surely get this thing to its proper location, right?
Zeno picked it up easily, then turned toward the swirling portal in the room. “I hope this works!” he said cheerily, and stepped through.
Reader, it did not. The maze made the sad wrong noise and the heavy ball re-appeared on its platter like an endless chef’s special.
“No, no, ugh.” I groaned, fate sealed.
It was up to me now.
“Song and Dance Crew: one focus, one loci. Dwarves of Egonia: two focus, zero loci.”
Time to play the game.
Angsty Teen Breakfast Blog 