My boot hovered an inch from the wood of the shop door. It would take no effort at all to turn it into kindling. Inside my chest, the barbarian rage was screaming in my veins. It was a physical heat, a thrumming engine in my blood that demanded I kick the door in, flatten Vane with a single swing of my war hammer, and smear anyone else who stood in my way across the shelves of curiosities. It was the default setting for my class: See problem. Apply percussive tool to said problem. Problem solved — bonus: collect loot.

  But my heart was hammering a different rhythm. A cold, erratic, frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with game mechanics and everything to do with fear. And fear was trying to cool the fire in my veins like an iceberg meeting magma. I felt like I was going to throw up.

  Five elite guards. One Barbarian. One hostage dog that can’t transform.

  I ran the combat simulation in my head, a split-second tactical assessment. If I breached, Vane would scream. The guards, what level were they? High-level based on their size alone, and that meant they wouldn’t panic; they would react with lethal, programmed efficiency. They would close ranks.

  And Dekka? Small, bound, and unable to shift into her hellhound form? She could get caught in the crossfire. Or worse, Vane, or that rich man could hurt her out of spite before I could clear the distance to her.

  The red haze of rage flickered and died, suffocated by the sliding pit of ice in my stomach. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in this world before. I wasn’t afraid of dying; respawning was an inconvenience. But if my dog was hurt-tortured?

  And dying? If this got bad, I could just die. That would make Dekka and I return to the ring of stones. But then I would have to get all the way back here. My leg would be fixed though … Not the worst plan. The idea of having to level up and get back here was almost worse. But not worse than letting them hurt my dog.

  Slowly, agonizingly, I lowered my foot to the cobblestones.

  I picked up the crate—Vane’s stupid crate—and set it gently by the wall. Had he really wanted it at all? I stepped back and waited, loitering in the deepening shadows between the two buildings across the street, and watched the storefront.

  The door opened, spilling the light from inside onto the cobbled stones of the street for a moment. Then the light was blocked as three of the bodyguards came out, each having to make themselves smaller to fit through the door.

  Vane exited before the rich merchant, bowing so low his nose practically scraped the floorboards. He looked pathetic, wringing his hands, his eyes darting around the street nervously. “A pleasure, my Lord, truly. A rarity of the highest order. Your Emperor will be most pleased with this specimen.”

  The wealthy man stepped out, followed by the other two guards. One of which was carrying Dekka. The man gave only the briefest nod to the wizard. “You have my gratitude for thinking of me, and the emperor, of course. He does love to collect the rarest of oddities.” Then without further comment he started down the street. He moved with the casual, heavy arrogance of someone who owned the pavement he walked on.

  The five guards followed him out, forming a protective phalanx instantly. Up close, I could see why my instincts had screamed at me to stop. Their armor was black plate, etched with runes. Their swords glinted in the flickering light of the freshly lit street lamps.

  There, tucked under the arm of the largest guard like a parcel, was Dekka. She wasn’t fighting anymore. They had added a heavy leather muzzle. Maybe she had tried biting again. The ‘atta girl’ in my heart warred with the ‘no, be careful of my brain.’

  She looked impossibly small. She didn’t look like a hellhound, or a monster, or a quest reward. She just looked like a scared dog. My scared dog. I bit down on my own knuckle until I tasted the copper tang of blood. It was the only way to keep the sob that was burbling up my throat.

  I am coming; I tried desperately to project the thought, hoping my new skill would help her. Hoping she could feel me. I am right here, Dekka. Hold on.

  The group began to move. I waited three heartbeats, then followed.

  Stalking a target through a city is a Rogue’s game. I was a seven-foot-tall barbarian carrying a massive war hammer. I had to rely on the deepening twilight, the architectural chaos of the city, and the many people still doing business even into the night.

  They didn’t head for the main berths where the common merchant ships docked, the areas bustling with the last of the day’s trade and lit by magical street lamps that were as bright as if they were electric. Instead, they proceeded toward the private slips at the far end of the harbor, where the docks were better maintained and the traffic less.

  A ship waited there. It was sleek, predatory, and coated in a matte black paint that seemed to drink the moonlight. It lacked the bulky cargo hold of a trader; it was slim and built for speed. I looked up to see if it had a flag, half expecting the skull and crossbones, but it was a golden serpent coiled around a fractured sun on a field of grey.

  I crouched behind a pile of rotted netting near the end of the pier, holding my breath. The wind had died down, carrying voices clearly over the water.

  “We have the prize,” the Merchant Lord said as he stepped onto the gangplank. His voice carried a heavy, rolling accent that sounded distinct from the locals. “Secure it in the lower hold. Special containment protocols. I am not sure if it has any abilities.”

  “My Lord,” one of the guards spoke up, causing the tall, well-dressed man to halt and look imperiously down at him. The guard glanced nervously around at the city looming above them, silhouetted against the stars. “Perhaps we should sail with tonight’s tide? The … rumours about you, My Lord.”

  The Lord laughed. It was a cold, joyless laugh. “Tonight? Why? Because you fear mere words?”

  He turned back to the guard, gesturing at the city jewels catching the light and glittering as he moved his hand. “Look at it. A disorderly mishmash of a city. The entire country is like that — no order, barely any law. Ruled by a senile king who hasn’t been seen in a decade. The running of this fine country,” he spat the words, “is a prince who is barely a man. They are weak. This land is ripe for the taking, and they are too busy squabbling over copper coins like lowborn urchins to notice the knife at their throats.”

  “But the owner of the beast, my Lord. The wizard said she was a massive warrior.” the guard pressed, “What if she has friends?”

  “This is why I pay you. That is for you to worry about, not I.” Turning his back to the guard, he resumed walking up the plank. “We have more business to conclude tomorrow with the Guild representatives regarding the iron shipments. We sail on the evening tide. Now, secure the beast. I want my wine.”

  They disappeared out of view.

  I stayed there, frozen behind the netting, shivering in the damp air. The evening tide.

  Dekka should be fine till then, right? Sad, frightened, but fairly safe? I was fraught with indecision. Should I rush in? Would that make it worse? I had roughly twenty-four hours to figure out a plan.

  Settling in to gather information, I watched the ship. The deck was crawling with sailors right out of a pirate’s tale. Swarthy, dangerous-looking men with curved scimitars and minimal armor. Probably not pirates. Privateers, that was the term. Legal pirates. This ship looked the part. Regardless, there were too many of them to fight alone, even if I could catch them by surprise.

  For a long time, there was only the slap of water against the hull and the creak of the ropes. And then, I heard it. Deep in the belly of the ship, muffled by layers of wood and iron, a faint sound drifted up through the air.

  Awoooo-ooo.

  It was a high-pitched, undulating wail. It wasn’t a cry of pain—that would have sent me over the rail regardless of the odds. It was a lonely, confused sound. It was the specific, miserable complaint of a terrier who has been put behind a closed door and is upset at the universe for not giving her thumbs.

  My eyes immediately filled with tears. Not enough to spill, just enough to make all the light in my vision dance. They were tears of frustration and worry.

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  I slid down behind the netting, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to make myself fit in the space. I’m sorry, I whispered into the dark, trying to project my thoughts at her and pressing my forehead against the rough handle of my hammer. I’m so sorry, girl.

  The night was endless. I couldn’t risk sleeping. What if they changed their minds, moved her somewhere? The hours ticked by. I watched the guards patrol the deck. They were disciplined. They didn’t stop to chat; they walked perfect overlapping loops. I wanted to get up and move. Pace this nervous energy off. But I didn't want to be spotted. So I stayed, my muscles cramping and my foot going numb.

  Eventually, the howling stopped. A hoped she was sleeping.

  I spent the remaining darkness running scenarios in my head, visualizing the fight like it was a sports play.

  Scenario 1: Storm the plank. Result: Three guards engage me; two hang back with crossbows. I take heavy damage before I reach the hatch. The sailors swarm. Result: Death.

  Scenario 2: Swim to a porthole. Actually, was the water safe? Were there sharks? And never mind if I would even fit through the porthole there was no way I could swim with my hammer. If I got inside, I would be wet and unarmed. Result: Death.

  Scenario 3: Talk my way on board. Result: I get on board, but I am surrounded. They execute me as soon as they realise I am lying. Result: Death.

  Then I had a thought that was even worse. What if they captured me and then hurt Dekka to punish me? What if I was unable to cause my own death, to reset us? I should do it now and reset us. But I wasn't sure.

  Was I being selfish? My dog was alone and scared. If I died, Dekka and I would be back together and safe. She loves this game. Dekka wouldn’t be the slightest bit upset to redo the things we have done. In fact, she would likely be thrilled to see Wendel and Sera again. It was only the fact that the idea of having to do this all over again made me want to lie down and give up that was stopping me. That and the worry that my new friends wouldn’t wait for me. That they would move on to the next part of the game and leave me behind.

  Still, that sounded pretty fucking selfish.

  But I didn’t try swimming with the fishes, or suicide by guard. And I felt fucking awful.

  Dawn broke, turning the harbor from a quiet pool of ink into a bubbling stew of activity. The noise was good I didn’t have to worry about making noises that would bring someone out to investigate, but light was bad. If I stayed here, I would be noticed eventually.

  As the sun rose, the docks transformed from a rogue’s playground into a chaotic marketplace. Stevedores shouted, magical cranes creaked and groaned as they lifted pallets, and merchants argued over tariffs.

  It became infinitely harder for a seven-foot-tall barbarian to stay hidden behind netting and a fish barrel.

  Once there were enough people around, I got up and moved around the docks like I had purpose. I noticed that most of the people were carrying things, cargo type things. I grabbed an empty barrel and carried it for a while, then some rope. No one questioned me, just another, if slightly larger than average, dock worker. Even my war hammer was only slightly out of character. Almost everyone was visibly armed.

  The day dragged on. The sun crawled across the sky with agonizing slowness. I watched the sailors prep the ship. I watched them load supplies—barrels of fresh water, crates of fruit, weapons racks. I watched them check the rigging. The fruit made my stomach complain loudly. I didn’t have any cooked food left in my inventory.

  I bet Dekka was hungry too. They would have to untie her face to feed her. Would they? They would have too … right?

  Every crate that went on board was a tick of the clock. Every inch the shadow of the mast moved across the deck was a minute lost.

  I had decided that if I hadn’t come up with a plan by dinnertime, I would go in and hit as many people as I could before they killed me and we reset.

  By late afternoon, the shadows stretched again. The air turned gold, then amber. The sailors were moving with more urgency now. The captain, a man with a scarred face, was shouting orders to clear the moorings.

  The ships that were planning on leaving with the evening tide were getting ready. I was vibrating with anxiety. I was gripping the rope I was now carrying so hard my knuckles were white, and the hemp fibers creaked under the pressure. Even though I wasn’t afraid of dying, it wasn’t a fun experience.

  I checked the position of the sun. Dinnertime was nigh.

  I made the decision.

  And then, a message popped up.

  {Rositilda} - Hey where are you?

  {System Error} - Rose! They have Dekka. They are going to sail shortly after sunset. We need to save her. Or I will have to die somehow to reset us.

  {Rositilda} - Hold on. Who has Dekka?

  {System Error} - Some sort of Merchant Lord or privateer. I’m at the docks.

  {Rositilda} - Ok. How bad is it? How many people do we need?

  {System Error} - Bad. We need everyone.

  {Rositilda} - I hear you. I will be right back.

  That hadn’t been that long. I had expected Rose to be gone longer. Why was she back already?

  Then I remembered the player I got the box from. There must be other players in the area. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

  “Ok!” Rose’s voice popped into existence a split second before her avatar did, startling me. Blinking, she solidified as the digital transition settled.

  “Uh, how did you just do that?” I asked.

  “Scroll of fast travel.” Rose was scoping out the ships. “Others are coming. In the meantime, is that the ship you mean?” She nodded at the black ship bobbing slightly in the waves.

  “Yeah, that is it.”

  “Shit.” She just looked up at. “If a boat could look like the embodiment of a ninja, it would be that one.”

  I nodded; the description was apt.

  She turned to me. “Barry, Vyper, Ayerelia, and some others are coming. So tell me what happened. I see you managed to get the artifact."

  “Yeah, that was the only good thing that happened after you left.” And I told her what had happened.

  I was just finishing explaining how they had tied her up and walked off with her I saw Barry and Vyper walking up the main docks toward us. My heart leapt at seeing them.

  “I hear we are on a rescue mission,” Viper gave me a quick grin. I could only nod. My friends were here. They came to help me save my dog. I was going to cry. And then feel stupid. So I let Rose explain.

  “That ship over there?” A voice from down by my waist said. It was Copperbeard! “Looks dangerous,” he said, but his tone was calm, not worried. He joined in chatting with the others as they contemplated tactics. I couldn’t focus. I was hungry, exhausted, and worried.

  “Hey Elizabeth!” Barry was saying to me. I looked up, and everyone was staring at me. “I was asking you if you knew how many large guards there were on board.”

  “Oh. I only saw the five. There could be more down there. I don’t know, sorry.”

  “Are you ok?” Rose peered up at me.

  “I’m,” I yawned. The big sort of yawn that impedes your ability to speak, “Well that. And I’m starving.”

  “What’s your stamina bar at?” Vyper asked me.

  Stamina bar? I never paid attention to that. But I pulled up my HUD and checked. Oh. That was a potential problem.

  “It’s only got about ten percent left.”

  Vyper removed an apple from his inventory and tossed it at me. Rose handed me some dried jerky. I devoured them with all the grace of a terrier who is eating something they know they shouldn’t have.

  “Do we know if anyone else is coming?” Barry looked down at Rose.

  Before she could answer Soup, who had joined us without us noticing, said, “I thought I might. If you have room on your dance card.” He seemed pleased at having snuck up on us. “Mage said he was coming too.”

  “That’s good. We could use a water mage on this mission.” Barry nodded.

  “Tha’ sparkly elf better show,” Copperbeard muttered. “We could also use a healer.”

  “I heard that.” Ayerelia said as she walked up behind us from a path leading to a forested area.

  “Aye’ you were meant to.”

  Barry looked around the group. “We aren’t a very stealthy lot. I guess there is no chance of going in quiet.”

  Vyper and I were quite large; Copperbeard and Rose were short, but one had to make noise to be effective, and the other one glowed. Soup was a rogue, but any stealth he might have had was completely negated by the shininess of Ayerelia.

  I sighed. “We would have to get loud eventually,” I said, feeling a surge of adrenaline that wasn’t rage. It was hope.

  “Loud is my favourite tactic.”

  We all turned. MageAgainsttheMachine, a human mage, average height but with ice blue eyes. He was wearing a robe the colour of the deepest ocean blue. And not the nice tropical ocean, but the blue of the cold depths of the Atlantic. He had given me a slightly creepy vibe. Now he was one of my favourite people.

  “We aren’t stealthy by nature. But in the dark, we might get the jump on them. Even up the odds a little,” Vyper said, looking over the ship.

  “Liz and I could take the lead. We disable the sentries on the gangplank. Soup and Barry could hold the deck to stop reinforcements coming up…” He trailed off.

  “What if we set the ship on fire?” Soup asked thoughtfully, also watching the ship bob in the water.

  “What! No, my dog is in there.”

  He looked at me. “I know. But we have Mage here as our own personal firehose. We could cause panic on deck, which would be to our advantage, and if it started to get out of control he could put it out.”

  “I hate that idea,” I said flatly.

  Soup shrugged.

  “I think that is more complicated. And we have no easy way of starting a fire. If we had Vampress-“ He stopped dead.

  Vampress? Shit, how did I forget what happened to her? “Oh shit, how is she?” I exclaimed.

  Everyone’s face fell, and they averted their eyes. Not from me, but in a sort of ‘not it’ to not have to be the one to talk about it.

  “Right, I guess you don’t know.” It was Barry who broke the silence. “She had to be hospitalized. PTSD from Pal, you know...”

  “Oh, fuck.”

  “I was messaging with Pal yesterday. He told me she was dissociating. He’s thinking of launching a lawsuit against the game,” Vyper said.

  Poor Vampress! That was terrible. I thought of Arjun. He wasn’t as traumatised as the fire mage, but the escort quest had affected him deeply.

  “And what does that say about all of us?” Ayerelia said. Her voice was its usual haughty, slightly mocking tone, but the emotion behind it didn’t match.

  We were all quiet for a while. Did they come back to this game just to help me? Or were they all going to keep playing the game? I couldn’t let my friends face trauma just so I didn’t have to backtrack.

  {System Error} - Are they all just here because of me? Do you think they have stopped playing the game other than this?

  {Rositilda} - I don’t think so. I mean, we are all here to help you and Dekka, but not in the way that you are asking.

  {System Error} - Ok good.

  We had decided to wait until full dark or until the ship looked ready to leave the dock. Night had almost fully fallen; only a slight orange glow showed where the sun had slipped over the horizon when. The black ship prepared to cast off. We could hear the captain shouting for the lines to be loosed.

  “Ok lets go,” Barry said.

  “For Dekka!” Soup whispered as he took the lead.

  We moved.