50 CHAPTER 50
"Listen, what do you think about taking a trip in a few days? Just not to Turkey. Maybe to Spain or Greece? Ask her if she has any good deals going on right now."
The phone was silent. Finally, she responded, though her voice was almost inaudible.
"Are you joking?"
"Why would I joke about that?"
"Okay, but if you tell me in a few days that you can't do it after all, I'll kill you for real."
"I won't."
"All right, let me call you back."
That was one more thing done and one more thing that pleasantly surprised me by how well it went. I was still worried by how strangely she was acting, but it takes a woman to understand another woman.
There was nothing unexpected on the paper forums.
Battle lines were formed, and everyone for and against video games was going at it from one end to the other. I wouldn't say my handiwork was respon-sible. It was just a happy coincidence that the articles had been released at the right place and the right time. Still, as I scanned the debates, I felt the same sense of satisfaction a craftsman looking at his work might have.
The gaming forums, on the other hand, had quieted down. Most players had decided that the whole epic quest idea was a myth, and they'd left for greener pastures. On the other hand, I was struck by the fact that most threads on the topic were written fairly professionally. I had the feeling that there was a PR specialist behind the scenes pulling strings to get everyone focused in the right direction. Perhaps, a clan or group of clans decided to smooth things over and get rid of potential competitors while they looked for the quest holder. If that was true, they did a good job. I silently wished them luck in their search, wondered if they'd find him, and went to sleep.
I stretched and heard my phone ring.
"Kif, it's me. There's a trip to Costa Daurada, Salou. A resort city in Spain."
"Ah, Catalonia. Sounds great. When's the flight?"
"The 15th, in four days. 4:15 p.m. from Sheremetyevo."
"Perfect. And it isn't a charter, so we won't have to wait at the airport."
"So should I reserve seats?"
"Go for it."
Elvira paused before quietly muttering a goodbye.
"Okay, see you tomorrow?"
Catalonia, fruit, sangria, Port Aventura... All I had to do was write one last article and turn it in before I was on my Way to a sunny piece of heaven.
I really didn't need to log into the game, since I knew what I would write about. There wasn't anything else to do, however, and, strange as it may sound, I was starting to miss the blue sky of Elysium.
Once again, I found myself standing on the pier. The early morning sun was playing on the water of the Great River as seagulls flew overhead. A peaceful scene for once. To the left of the pier, some fishermen sat on the bank, occasionally jerking on their rods.
I stood there for another couple minutes, enjoying the picture of universal calm and stability, and then started toward the city. The very first thing I had to do was go talk to the instructor and get my two abili-ties. Knowing my luck, if I didn't, I'd soon find myself neck-deep in some drama or other and wouldn't have the time.
The town was small. There were about thirty buildings, and I saw the familiar sign for the instructor I needed before also noticing the town's Tearful Goddess Order mission. I also came across the port building, which had just one floor and looked like a barracks, as well as a tavern, a hotel, and a squat little building with a sign that read "town hall."
I paused for a second by the order mission and considered dropping by to tell the local leader hello from Master Hugo, but thought better of the idea. Who knows what kind of witcher I'd have to go catch if I did? Instead, I turned and walked straight toward the sign with the shield and sword. K'12
We'll see what kind of hobby this instructor has, I thought. The first carved and the second made kites. Maybe this one weaves sandals or plays the balalaika[15]?
I knocked on the gate.
"Come t-r-right in!" It was a child's voice, and it seemed to get caught on the letter "r."
I walked in to see a girl about five years old sitting on the porch with a straw doll in her arms.
"Hi," I said.
"Gr-r-reetings," she responded.
"Why do you like the letter 'r' so much?"
"I just lear-r-rned how to say it, and I like showing it off!"
"Got it. What's your name?"
"Adele."
"And where's your grandfather, Adele? I came to see him."
"Gr-r-randpa is fishing. As soon as he catches something, he'll r-f-return home and br-r-ring me a lol-lipop. Do you have a lollipop?"
"Nope, I don't." I held up my hands.
"That's a shame." She sighed.
"It is," I agreed. "Where does your grandfather usually go fishing?"
"By the pier-f-r. R-r-right on the other side. He's the only one there with a bear-r-rd."
"What's his name?"
"Gr-r-randpa!" The little girl looked at me in bewil-derment, as if to ask what else she was supposed to call him.
"Of course, but what do the neighbours call him?"
"Dar-r-rn old Gr-r-rod." She lowered her voice and stomped her foot.
"Got it. Well, I'll bring you a lollipop. And your 'I' sounds great!"
"R-r-really? You'll br-r-ring me a lollipop?" She beamed at me.
I nodded. "Of course I will!"
On the way back to the pier, I stopped by the tavern and found only three people there, all of whom were NPCs. The tavern keeper sold me a lollipop, though the surprised look on his face told me that players usually just bought beer. Apparently, I was the first to ask for a lollipop. But what was wrong with buying one for Adele? I'd promised I would, after all, and I could have her grandfather give it to her. Grandparents are always tickled when people like their grand-children. Of course, I'd give it to him before the conversation turned to my abilities.
After Fladridge, its restless residents, and the crowds of players rushing up and down the streets, Mettan seemed calm and peaceful. I only saw two players on the road, and it looked like they were focused on finishing quests.
I finally arrived at the pier and was happy to find that only one of the people fishing there had a beard.
"Master Grod?"
He turned and motioned for me to be quieter.
"I need to talk with you."
"I'll be fishing for another two hours, so stop by the house later. Do you know where I live?" the stocky old man asked softly.
I nodded.
Grod nodded in reply and waved his hand as if to send me on my way.
Well, there was nothing for it. I had two hours to kill, so I decided I might as well walk around the city and head over to the port to see what the twisted quest was about. The ships were anything but reassuring, but it sailing poorly was still better than walk in comfort.
I stopped at the port building and knocked on the door like any decent person might.
A gruff voice answered from behind it. "Come in, whoever you are! Just wipe your feet."
I made sure my feet were clean and pushed open the door.
The port master was pleasantly reminiscent of Gamroth. I mean, outside of their height and how hairy they were, they didn't resemble each other much on the surface. One big difference was that this salty, wind-driven sailor was one-eyed, one-legged, and incredibly grizzled. His face was marked by a permanently spiteful grimace, and there was a cigar stub jutting out of the corner of his mouth. Still, there was something about his eyes and the way he carried himself that reminded me of Gamroth. His name was Neils Holgerrson.
"What the hell do you need?" Mr. Holgerrson's greeting was more an interrogation.
Ah-ha, one more thing he and Gamroth had in common. I recognized him by his amiability and cordiality, and my heart warmed.
"I'd like a seat on the boat," I informed the sea dog.
"Oh, is that all? Belay and ballast! Well, if you're a rich little kiddie and your mommy gave you a sack of gold to go along with your Rosa-Mimosa perfume, hand over 10,000 coins a day and the spot is yours! I'll take you straight to the Kraken if you want."
"Where am I supposed to get that much money?"
"Then take a hike. I'd rather drop a hundred thousand squids down my pants than make an exception for you."
I imagined the squid, saw where they'd be going, and shuddered…
~ ~ ~
