We stood around his body, staring at it. My eyes drifted to the book.

  “Ingrid? Do you have gloves on you?” I asked.

  “In my belt pouch, why?”

  “I don’t want anyone touching that book, or the knife, with their bare hands. We need to call the Sheriff and get people out here. Also, find out how many more of the commune members are still alive.”

  “I agree. I’ve got extra gloves and specimen bags in my carryall bag in the van.” She glanced off toward the side. “I’ll check PokerRun first. Will, see if there’s still anything on him. I’m not getting any evil off him, and he doesn’t show CHARMed.”

  “I’ll grab your bag after I renew shields on you two. DISPLAY STATS doesn’t show the MINION status that had been there. We need to know how it got there.” I cast PSYCHIC and MANA SHIELDS on all three of them, then slow jogged back toward my van.

  The air still had the smell of blood hanging heavy in the May air. There wasn't enough breeze to blow it away. My shoes crunched on the dirt and gravel road as I messaged Sheriff Harper.

  I told him we needed ambulances, deputies, coroner, and the evidence truck at the NeedLess Commune. I mentioned the bodies…too many of them. Finally, I asked him to bring Wild Bill since he was a Holy Paladin. Harper said he’d let me know when they were on the way.

  When I got back with Ingrid’s bag, PokerRun sat on the ground, conscious but pale, his breathing fast. He looked scared. I didn’t blame him.

  When I put my hand on his shoulder, he flinched. “How ya doin’? You OK now?” I asked.

  “I… I, uh, I’m sorry, Will. Like I told Ingrid, I couldn’t help myself. He told me to do something, and I jest did it. I didn’t want to shoot you. Part of me was hopin’ that if he made me shoot, it would be you. You got hellacious shields, and they could’a protected you. I wanted to do what he said.” His voice cracked. Tears rimmed his eyes.

  I sat on the ground beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into me, shaking. “Look, man. You called us for help. We came. That’s all anyone needs to know. He would’ve taken your bullet if it hadn’t happened this way. By getting us out here, you saved some of people living here. Shadow found survivors in the long building over there and a few more behind the main hall. Ingrid’s taking care of them.”

  “I know. But what if he comes back? He said he had to die to be immortal…and he wasn’t talkin’ about heaven or hell. He meant here. He said he just needed more MANA to do it.”

  “Well, he didn’t get it from us. Now he won’t. Ever. Got that?”

  “Yeah.” He paused, then for the first time all day, a grin cracked across his face. “Roger that.” He started laughing, high and a little wild, and didn’t stop for almost half a minute. Shock, probably.

  Leaning back, I forced my eyes wide in mock surprise before laughing with him. “You’ve recovered, old man. Get your ass over there and help with the live ones. Don’t touch the dead, and don’t step on any of the floor drawings. I don’t know if they’re still active, and you aren’t gonna find out the hard way. Got that?” I gave him a one-armed squeeze and stood, offering him my hand when he’d caught his breath.

  He clasped wrists with me and I pulled him to his feet.

  “Thanks, Will. You need me, you call. I’ll get there fast as my bike’ll take me. And if I’ve got extra deer meat, I’ll drop some your way. I, uh…couldn’t let the ones that got killed by those monsters just go to waste, now, could I?” He winked.

  “Nope. That you couldn’t. Let’s clean things up before the Sheriff gets here.”

  Using pieces of wood, I slid the knife into one of Ingrid’s specimen bags, the book into another. Then I sealed each inside three more bags, four layers each. Maybe overkill, but luck and Shadow had kept us alive this time. I wasn’t about to test chance again. I kept the two packages separate and carried them to my van.

  By the time the first sheriff’s car and an ambulance pulled in, we had fourteen adults and six children alive. They looked gaunt, skin pale from hunger. Ingrid had healed their worst injuries, but their hollow eyes told the rest.

  Shadow had scrounged ingredients from the commune’s pantry and had a big pot of soup simmering over a propane burner. The smell of onions, broth, meat, and wild herbs drifted across the courtyard, chasing back some of the stench of death.

  It reminded me of something else…Shadow’s other job. Time was running out to get her to her shift as a cook somewhere.

  A few minutes later, I was driving her back to town after telling Sheriff Harper I’d return within the hour. She slipped into her usual spot behind me in the van. About ten minutes in, I heard her voice from the back.

  “Will?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need to change clothes.”

  “I expected that. I’ll do my best not to look back, but can you do it while you’re VANISHED?”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  There was a pause. “I think I can…but it’s not what you think.”

  “I’ve got a feeling you don’t want to tell me the reason.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, I know your face and your build. I might recognize you on the street someday. I promise I won’t say a word unless you talk to me first.”

  “Thank you for that. It’s just… I’ve had problems with some people. Some men.”

  That was when I noticed her accent had slipped away.

  “Whatever this is, it’s serious. How do I say this right?” I asked myself.

  “I’m jumping to conclusions, but it sounds like you’ve had trouble with men…older white men. Like me. Bhaarrt’s easier because he’s gray, not white, and reads manga. Younger, too.”

  She made a sound somewhere between a snort and a giggle. “That’s part of it. Thank you for getting it. For understanding. It’s more than that.”

  “More you don’t want to go into. That’s fine. If I ever cross a line I don’t know about, tell me. I’ll do my best not to go there again.”

  “Just so you know." Shadow said. "I trust you. I trusted you a little since you asked me to join your party right after you hit me in the stomach with your cane. That hurt.”

  “It taught you a lesson. Sorry it hurt. I couldn’t judge the distance right…you were invisible, after all.”

  “Yeah. I was.” This time she giggled. She was 19, after all. “I forgave you. I’ve learned a lot the hard way. You made me more careful when I STEALTH. That’s how ninjas train…if you can’t get out of the way, you get hit. You keep getting hit until you don’t no more.”

  “I’ve heard that. Seen some YouTube videos. I wasn’t thinking of that when I did it. I just wanted you to know I could spot you. When you’re using MANA, you stand out.”

  I heard her shifting, cloth rustling, weapons clinking as she set them between the seats.

  “Will? Can I take off my seatbelt for a minute?”

  The two-lane road curved through the valley ahead, no cars ahead or behind me. Just some curves as we followed the valley.

  “Go ahead. But if I say put it on, do it. OK?”

  “Roger that.” We both laughed.

  Two miles later, her belt clicked back into place.

  “All done. Thanks for understanding.”

  “I could tell you needed boundaries. The more you tell me, the better I can avoid crossing them. If you’ve got hard limits, let me know. I have mine too.”

  “How do you know about hard limits?” Her tone sharpened.

  “How did I know who Madame Boudoir was?”

  “You do that?”

  I eased my shoulders. “I used to. When my wife was alive, we dabbled. Still know people.”

  “You and your wife were…?”

  “A little. We played before our son was born, picked it up again after he left home and joined the Air Force. If you use those terms, I’ll know what you mean. If that helps you.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. I forgot you said something about that after we took her down.”

  “After you showed what you could do,” I said, “You can get real intense…scary, even. I don’t want to be on your bad side.”

  “Thanks. Didn’t think I’d find an old white guy who understood. You do better than most.”

  I laughed. “Thanks, I think.”

  “We’re almost to the road into town. Where do you want me to drop you?”

  She gave me a location. We rode the rest of the way in silence. When we got there, we said our see-ya-laters. I still had another stop before heading back to the commune.

  Most of the drive, my thoughts circled around the knife and book. They wouldn’t go into my Inventory, so they weren’t game items. Yet both radiated power…and evil. Nothing in the Rules explained that. Worry gnawed at me until it turned to fear.

  At the System STORE, I had two questions. Could I put them in the bank? And would they buy them? Not that I wanted to sell, but at least then they’d be out of reach.

  I pulled a cloth grocery bag from the van and dropped the wrapped items inside. Only then did I notice their bags were touching. Nothing happened. Small comfort.

  Inside, I tried the BANK first. It wouldn’t take them, even bare. I rewrapped the knife and carried both to the WE BUY desk.

  The same clerk as before waited there. I placed the knife on the counter. She turned it over, studied it, even held it barehanded before dropping it back with a shake of her head.

  “Can’t help you. It’s not one of ours.”

  “What about this one?” I pulled out the book while carefully re-bagging the knife.

  She repeated the same motions, same frown.

  “Can’t help you. It’s not one of ours.”

  “What do you mean, not one of yours?”

  “Not one of ours.” she answered. “We don’t trade in anything we can’t sell back to you. You can’t sell that here.”

  “Where can I sell them?”

  Her gaze went distant, like she was listening to someone. A few seconds later, she looked back. “We can’t help you. Take them away. If you’ve got anything else to sell, I’ll look at it.”

  “Thank you. Uh, not at the moment.” I re-bagged the book, and it went into the bag.

  Confusion churned in my gut. One last chance. Down the hall, I opened the door marked INFORMATION. Albert Holmes might know. I couldn’t pay gold, but maybe he’d give me a price.

  The room looked just as I remembered…Edwardian, but done by a set designer who’d only skimmed a history book. Holmes sat in his same chair.

  “Mr. Holmes. Albert Holmes. I have a question I don’t believe you can answer,” I called out.

  “There is no question I cannot answer, good sir…provided you have the wherewithal to purchase it.”

  “I might. But first I’d have to ask my question to learn your fee.”

  “Well spoken, sir. Correct indeed. I deduce you face a problem beyond the ken of others, and that you carry it in that bag. What sir, is your question?”

  “What are these two items, beyond the obvious, and where did they come from and how do I destroy them?”

  I took them out of the bag and held them up, one in each hand. He raised a magnifying glass, leaned forward, and studied them without touching. Then he had me turn them around.

  Quietly waiting for him to finish, he finally leaned back, tapping the magnifying glass against his palm. His eyes locked on mine. “I will not charge you for the obvious. You have a knife of the flamberge style and a leather-bound book with a black cover. Its title, ‘The Book of Going Forth By Day.’”

  He sipped his drink, and steepled his hands before continuing. “The answer to your question is that I can answer it. I will not. You lack the gold to buy a partial answer. To fully answer will take more than gold…and is nigh impossible to acquire.”

  With that, he settled back into his chair.

  My thoughts spun. I got somewhere! How bad can this be? I slipped them back into the bag. “What’s your price? Sounds more like a quest than a transaction.”

  “Again, you are more learned than I expected. Very well. For the information you seek, you must bring me the soul of a dungeon.”

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oo7VlD66ISM

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