1??????????????Soul Bound
1.1????????????Finding her Feet
1.1.7??????????An Extreme Response
1.1.7.11???????A conspiracy unmasked
On the 2nd Day
8 bells of the morning watch, Lunday Wax, the 1st day in the month of KrevinBelember.
Nadine took a break between sets, sitting back and watching her regulars contentedly. Jasic and Cosic were arguing out in the courtyard. Cosic was extolling the beauty of the stars and the benefits of fresh air. Jasic was complaining the pollen made him sneeze. She smiled to herself, noting that for all their bickering, neither of them even considered the possibility of not sitting together.
Old Daris was dozing by the fire, where Muhamed and David were playing chess. Muhamed spent his time out in the woods, a light-fingered Thoreau, while David used to be a doctor before expert systems controlling nurse bots and able to escalate to telecontrol by human specialists put general practitioners out of business. He still talked to his patients about the troubles in their lives, and was considering becoming a Rabbi.
In a far corner, Harun had engaged Tarik in a card game with Vedad, trying to cheer him up. Vedad was losing badly, as usual. They seemed to be discussing something animatedly which involved looking at mobile phones. She hoped Harun wasn’t trying to get Vedad to join a campaign again. She remembered the last time, when Vedad had walked around for a week with a badge asking people to help save the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus.
Heather came down the stairs, looking a little tired but satisfied, and walked over to sit next to Nadine on the bench.
Heather: “How are you doing?”
Nadine: “Surviving. I don’t know whether you got a chance to watch my stream, but being in that collar is nightmare fuel. I like you guys and I want to help Bulgaria, but I’m not sure it is worth experiencing that again.”
Heather wrapped an arm around her. Oh, she needed that. Bosnian culture had a lot going for it, but easy physical contact in friendship between men and women wasn’t one of them.
Heather: “I can set up a code word you can say to Minion, which will cue him to cut off any negative physical or mental effects. But you don’t have to go back in if you don’t want to. You’ve achieved enough. That last spell you cast with your Vessel worked perfectly. We didn’t just get a direction, it gave your Vessel a precise location, and even a mental glimpse of you and the room you were in. I went in ahead with Harlequin to open the doors and disarm the traps. Wellington had Bungo set up a perimeter on the tunnels we knew about with the help of the citizens and half the adventurers. Tomsk and Lelio led the charge, with a bunch of mages behind them using wands to stun the cultists.”
“Tomsk took down Wibano in 1-on-1 combat, and Kullervo only escaped by using fascination and a tunnel nobody had mapped. It turned out to lead straight up into the Alto home of House Drago - they’re in big trouble. Lelio arrested them all and escorted them back to Cov’s Sanctum, while the priests purified the corrupt sanctum that the cultists were in the process of dedicating to Bel when we broke in. As it was, their necromancer had a whole bunch of Ghasts who attacked us all from behind. Lots of adventurers were paralysed, and Fra Gamal got to show how good they are at slicing-n-dicing. Mary-Lynn uploaded the footage.”
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Nadine, somewhat crossly: “I’m glad you all had fun. And where was Bulgaria in all this? I need him to teach me and Vessel-Kafana how to do some basic necromancy. ‘Talk with Spirits’. Or, rather, the reverse of that. How to let a spirit initiate contact with a necromancer.”
Heather gave her a squeeze: “Sweetie, you’re not alone. I did experience your stream, and it was terrible. You’ve got more people supporting you than you know. But like I say, you don’t have to do any more. The Burrow has launched successfully, and even if you never logged in again, it would continue to be popular. That’s thanks to you. Nobody can ask more of you. In a few weeks, if you’re feeling better, you can create a new character, and take your time getting back up to level 25, and then we can resume playing together. You have lots of friends who’ll help you.”
Vedad approached them respectfully: “Ms Sabanagic, Ms MacQuarrie.”
Nadine: “Vedad! What can I get you?”
Vedad looked embarrassed, as though he’d lost a bet: “Could you settle a discussion between Harun and myself? He’s got this video of someone singing a song, and I said you could sing it better than they did. Could you sing it for us?”
It wasn’t that unusual for people to request particular songs of her, and she prided herself on the range of music she knew. She specialised in emotional blues music from different traditions around the world. It suited her voice, and it was what she’d grown up singing. But when she’d studied music at UCL she’d had to try everything from mass choral works and opera, through shomyo and Finnish close harmony to American musicals and cutting edge rock off-shoots.
Nadine replied off-handedly: “Sure, if it’s something I know that won’t sound too bad unaccompanied.”
Vedad smiled, relieved: “Thank you!” and started to return to his bench.
Nadine said gently: “What was the name of the song?”
Vedad: “Oh, yes, of course. It’s ‘Find Me’ by Birdy. You do know it, don’t you?” He looked anxious. “Harun’s video doesn’t have music with it, just the voice, so that’s ok, yes?”
Someone on the net had done a cover of “Find Me” and Harun didn’t think she could equal it? That put her on her mettle. She’d sung the damn thing when afraid and in pain. She’d welcome this chance to show what she could really do with it. Cover artist beware, the Queen of Song was here! Heather looked nervous.
Nadine: “Don’t worry, I got this.”
She got up and walked over to the stage, without giving Heather a chance to answer, and summoned Harun and Vedad over to sit right at the front. Heather had said yesterday that Nadine sounded “ok” when singing here, but she didn’t perform with a capital ‘P’. That also pissed her off. She was feeling a lot of anger this evening, and better to channel it into her singing than take it out on Heather. She’d show them. Ok, stance, visualise what she was going for, center herself, step into role, and action!
She imagined herself 21 again, in the throws of first love, captured by a sadistic monster and held in chains in a deep dungeon. She imagined Tomsk hearing her voice from afar, bursting apart the castle doors, slaying the baddie in combat and sweeping her into his arms. She became as isolated as the moon, terrified, desperate, trusting, yearning, fragile and delicate, a thing to be saved, surrounded by animated claws of darkness reaching for her.
And she put it all into her song. Blow games, this was her magic, it always had been. Singing like this was what she lived for, what made living worthwhile.
She finished, and threw a triumphant grin at Heather, who for some reason was looking anguished. As well she might, if she were eating her own words. Nadine accepted Vedad’s applause as her just due.
But then Daris and David approached not her but Heather.
Daris: “ *beep* *beep* “
David: “Hello BouncyGirl. Or should I say Ms Alderney?”