Twenty-Sided Sorceress 3 - Pack of Lies

Pack of Lies

The Twenty-Sided Sorceress: Book Three

Annie Bellet

Copyright 2014, Annie Bellet

All rights reserved. Published by Doomed Muse Press.

This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to
[email protected]
.

Cover designed by Ravven (
www.ravven.com
)

Formatting by Polgarus Studio (
www.polgarusstudio.com
)

Electronic edition, 2014

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This book is dedicated to Demon Fox:

Curse you for all the total party kills, and all the unskippable cut scenes.

Four pairs of eyes watched the twenty-sided die bounce across the hex mat, life and death riding on its little blue plastic numbers. We had gathered in the back room of my game shop for our usual Thursday night game session. First one since I’d returned from Three Feathers. Steve hadn’t been able to make it, but the twins were here, and Harper of course. She’d stood by me while I moped and struggled to resume training to fight my psychotic ex-lover.

While I pined for my other probably ex-lover. Who hadn’t called me in over a month. The leaves were going to start changing. Our summer together, the ending of it in total disaster, it seemed like a weird dream now. I missed Alek like hell, but I was recovering. Sorta.

Okay, I’d admit it. I’d been a mess. It felt good to game again, to resume some semblance of normal life again.

“Nat TWENTY,” Ezee yelled as the die finished its roll and sat in the middle of a knocked-over pile of orc miniatures. The coyote shifter flipped his thick black hair back from his forehead and pumped a fist in the air.

“All right,” I said, hiding my grin. “You successfully perform the heal check. Harper, err, I mean Liandress the Unlucky, stabilizes.”

“Cheap bastard,” Harper muttered. “You could have just given me a potion.”

“Potions are reserved for people who don’t cast fireball in small rooms,” Levi said, reaching over and ruffling Harper’s hair. She flicked one of his many facial piercings, sending the dangling seashell shape hanging off his lower lip spinning.

“What are you doing next?” I asked, before this could end in Harper or Levi flipping the table or tearing out piercings.

“I’ll waste a heal spell on this useless wizard here,” Ezee said.

“I’ll loot the bodies,” Levi added. He winked at me, leaned away from Harper, and slid a note across the table.

“Not the notes again,” his twin groaned.

Harper rolled her eyes.

I had to admit, as I watched my friends bicker, that it was good to be here, to be doing things with them again. I felt like I was coming out of a fog, finally. For a week after I had returned from Three Feathers, after my anger and arrogance had gotten my father killed, I’d been despondent. Samir’s games had gotten to me. Had nearly killed my tribe, killed my whole family, such as they were.

I’d stopped the killings, true. But I’d gotten the man who I had thought was my father killed in the process. I had been banished from my childhood home a second time. That part stung less than knowing that Samir had manipulated me, tricked me. I felt like his little puppet toy on a string, dancing until he got tired and smashed me.

It wasn’t a good feeling. All the training in the world, training to become strong enough that I could fight him head-on, it seemed pointless. He wasn’t facing me head-on. Instead he kept up his little postcards.

Alek had heard me out, heard the whole story of Shishishiel and Not Afraid, heard how I freed the spirit or whatever it was and saved everyone, though at a cost. He seemed to understand. He told me it wasn’t my fault, that my only mistake had been acting so quickly, and acting alone.

I was used to working alone, being alone. This whole having friends who knew who I was and the dangers that posed and who didn’t care was a new thing. The whole idea of having a relationship with someone was a new thing.

A thing I apparently sucked at.

Alek and I had talked a little, but I hadn’t been ready for more, not right after. I’d retreated, hiding from everyone, alone in my grief and my pain.

Then Alek left. Justice business, he said.

He didn’t call. He didn’t come back.

I didn’t quite pull a Bella from
Twilight
and mope for weeks, but it was a close thing. Harper kicked my ass out of bed after a week of me pretending I didn’t need to eat or bathe, and made me come run the store.

“Life gives you lemons, you poke it in the eye with a stick,” she’d said.

“Fuck you,” I’d said. “I am just making a mess of everything.”

“So he’s gone. Either suck it up and call his ass, or stop moping.”

“It isn’t just Alek,” I had muttered. “I don’t know how to stop Samir. I hate this waiting.”

“So get out of bed and train.”

“It’s that easy?”

“No. It’s hard. But you gotta get up and do it anyway.” She had settled down on the bed beside me and tugged on my admittedly greasy black braid. “I’m a professional gamer. And a woman. You know what that’s like? I get told I’m gonna get raped, that I’m ruining the game, that I should go back to playing with Barbies, that my hair is too masculine or that my boobs are too big or small or whatever, and all kinds of stupid shit. All the time. It sucks. But I don’t let it break me and I don’t let it stop me from doing what I love, from being who I am.”

I knew some of the things people said online to and about her. I’d seen the comments, read the tweets. She never seemed bothered by it. I realized I’d just assumed she wasn’t and hadn’t ever asked. Great, on top of everything, I was a shitty friend, too.

“How do you do that?” I asked, resolving in my head to ask my friends more about their lives. Be more involved. They were risking everything by wanting me to stay in Wylde, by helping me train. Maybe it was time I started risking my heart for them.

“I tell myself every morning that today, today I’m going to kick ass and take screenshots.” And with another tug on my braid and a bright grin, she had leapt up and started raiding my closet.

Kick ass. Take screenshots.

I wanted to screenshot this moment, my three best friends gathered around a table in a comic book and game store that I owned. Nobody trying to kill me. Just people who cared that I was here, people who I would die to protect. This was happiness.

“Okay,” I said. “You walk down the long hallway and see a set of huge doors. They open as you draw near, as though inviting you inside. The room is circular, with an ornate ivory throne sitting on a dais at its center. A man in red robes rises and greets you each by name.”

“I ready my crossbow,” Levi said.

“I’ve got the fireball wand online,” Harper said.

I reached into the messenger bag at my feet and drew out a flashlight. I clicked it on and pointed it at the ceiling. The words “unskippable cut scene” were illuminated instantly.

“Woah. How long did that take you?” Ezee asked.

“Not that long,” I lied. It had taken most of a season of
Highlander
while I wrestled with the stupid idea, trying to get the words to project properly.

Ezee, Levi, and Harper all swiveled their heads at the same time, just before a knock came on the back door.

“Pizza break! I’ll get it.” Harper jumped up.

So much for my big dramatic moment where I introduced them to the big bad who would hopefully become their nemesis throughout the rest of the campaign. Gamers. Universe save me.

Joel, the pizza delivery guy, came in and set the pizza warming case down on the side table next to the half-size fridge I keep in here. He was a wolf shifter, one of the few who lived in town instead of out at the official pack home; a giant faux-castle estate that pretended it was a hunting lodge.

“You guys sounded slammed,” I said as he pulled the two pizzas from the case, pepperoni and pineapple for Harper and I, everything under the sun plus mushrooms for the twins.

“It’s the wake, for Wulf. Every alpha in the States is here, with their seconds.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his short brown hair.

Harper had explained that Wulf was the local pack alpha, a legend. I’d seen him once or twice in town, an old man with white hair and watery grey eyes. His last name was Leifson, supposedly the son of Leif Erikson, the famous Viking who discovered Vinland and the new world. Harper wasn’t sure about that, but he was old even for a shifter, over a thousand if the legend was true.

He had died a week ago. Wolf shifters from all over the States were trickling into our small town, causing a weird end-of-summer boom in the hotel and restaurant industry. The hunters weren’t here yet, as only wolf season had started and hunting wolves was banned in this county, and the students up at Juniper College wouldn’t be back for two weeks, so the business was nice. Not that it was much business for me. Apparently not a lot of gamers in the alpha wolf gene pool.