DLC: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 4) Page 10

  Arath took a quick step backward just as the dwarf dropped his and Ceinwen’s plate onto the stack. The glass plummeted toward the ground, while Arath continued to retreat.

  Ceinwen darted from her seat at the same moment that Karag left his. He, having the longer stride of the two, reached them a second before she did – and a second before they hit the ground. And she barely avoided colliding with him.

  Jack half expected a snippy exchange between the pair at the near impact. But she apologized for nearly bumping heads, and so did Karag. Then, she told him, “Good catch.”

  “Thank you,” he nodded. “And well done yourself. You have the reflexes of a cat.” Then, he turned to Arath and Migli. “You’re lucky we caught them, though. I don’t believe Estelle needs more difficulties at the moment, do you?”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Arath said.

  “Yes it was,” Ceinwen said. “Both of your faults, but yours particularly. The woman just lost her father. Have some compassion, for goodness’s sake.”

  Karag nodded. “Indeed. And if not compassion – I’m not sure you’re capable of it,” he said, with a dismissive glance Arath’s way, “at least demonstrate a modicum of decorum.”

  The ranger’s scowl deepened, but he said nothing. And no wonder. Karag was towering over him with a severe expression plastered on his features. No one in their right mind wanted to further provoke an angry giant. So he remained silent, even as, never breaking eye contact, Karag placed the two plates on Arath’s stack.

  Then Karag returned to his seat, and Ceinwen to hers. Arath stood there for a long moment, red-faced with anger. Then, he turned toward the food bar. With a heavy plunk, he dropped the plate ware onto the counter.

  Jack watched all of this unfold, a little surprised. He knew the team had its personality conflicts. But so far, they’d all been scripted. At least, he’d assumed they’d been scripted. This seemed far too spontaneous to have been planned, though. Which meant the team was developing its own, unique dynamic, beyond what the programmers had originally intended.

  In the distance, he heard a door open and close. A moment later, a red-eyed Miss Mint stepped out. “Estelle has gone to speak to her mother. She – she told me the terrible news.”

  Migli got out of his seat and led the young elf to it. “Please, my dear, take a seat. This is a terrible shock to you,” he said gallantly.

  “It’s a terrible shock to all of us, Sir Dwarf. I’ve known Father Winter – well, it must be going on eight hundred years now.”

  “Eight hundred years?” Migli fished out a handkerchief. “I don’t believe it, my dear. You don’t look a day over seven hundred and ninety-nine.”

  She glanced up a little warily at that but laughed at the sight of his smile. “Thank you – I think. But I’m actually over a thousand years old. We don’t, you see, get the calling until our mid-three hundreds.”

  “The calling?”

  “The calling to serve. It’s a kind of – well, a compunction, to give back to this world that has sustained us. We feel it, deep in our souls, and we’re not satisfied until we find some way to help others. That’s why we are here, you know, working with Father Winter.” Then, her eyes watered, and her voice broke as she said, “At least, it’s why we were here. Now…well, I don’t know.”

  She devolved into tears for a long moment, and Migli devoted himself to her comfort. He brought her peppermint schnapps and told her he couldn’t begin to know what she was going through. But, he told her, she had his fullest support – all of theirs. “We will do anything we can for you in these terrible, terrible times. Anything at all, Pepper – you need only ask. Isn’t that right, Jack?”

  Jack grunted his assent but rolled his eyes. Not because he didn’t sympathize – he did. But he’d also watched Migli employ similar stratagems with half a dozen other women in their time together. If they were sad, he was all chivalry and concern. If they were joyous, he wanted nothing more than to revel in happiness. If they despised a thing, he despised it; and if they loved it, he loved it. At least, until it got him into their pants. Or, in the case of the goat girl from the other night, into their furry pantaloons.

  Pepper thanked Migli, and Jack. “But really, it’s nothing for me like it is for poor Estelle. She bears it well, of course, but Winter – well, he was a father to her after her own parents died. He found her, half frozen, selling matchbooks one horribly cold Christmas Eve. He and Mrs. Winter raised her, like their own child. I don’t know how she’ll recover from this.”

  “How utterly dreadful,” the dwarf said, with such conviction that Jack might have believed he really meant it.

  “She’s devastated. And poor Mrs. Winter. They’d been together for…well, they just celebrated their golden anniversary: two thousand years.”

  “Crikey,” Arath muttered. “Are we sure he didn’t throw himself out of the sleigh?”

  Jack gave him a warning look, and Ceinwen shot him a gaze so frosty and withering he seemed to shrink back into his seat a little. Miss Mint, mercifully, hadn’t heard the comment. She focused on Migli, and his astonished murmur of surprise and sorrow. “It really is too bad,” she agreed. “I don’t know what she’ll do. Imagine being on your own after so many years.”

  Migli put a massive hand on the elf woman’s tiny one. Unlike Migli’s boxlike proportions, Pepper’s dimensions followed the more standard model – just, shortened. “My dear Pepper,” he said with a wealth of emotion in his tone, “poor Mrs. Winter is not alone. Not while we are here. Not while the people of this place remain. She will never be alone.”

  Pepper smiled, and her eyes glistened with tears. She took a long, shaky breath, and dabbed her eyes. “That was very beautifully put, Migli. You are man of great heart. I can see that.”

  Karag groaned at the same time Ceinwen did, and Arath snorted.

  It was a long two hours before Estelle returned, her beautiful blue eyes and fair skin red and puffy from crying. Pepper had been assigned the task of seeing to their comfort, but Migli had in turn assigned himself the task of seeing to her comfort. So she was wrapped in a blanket, sipping a cup of special hot chocolate – made with a heavy dose of peppermint schnapps – and reminiscing about Father Winter when her boss returned. The dwarf had seated himself beside her, sipping his own mug of infused hot chocolate, listening with every indication that he actually cared about Miss Mint’s first meeting with the dead man.

  On the topic of the dead, Jack was wishing himself dead at that precise moment. It was bad enough to listen to this sort of thing in real life. But to be forced into Migli’s – Migli’s – romantic pursuits? Death was preferable. And to judge by the faces of his other companions, they seemed similarly inclined.

  Karag sat silent and grim-faced: the picture of a man reevaluating his life choices and wondering what he’d done so very wrong to get to this point.

  Ceinwen and Er’c seemed distressed by Migli’s manipulative style of wooing.

  And as for Arath? Well, he had, in the interim between Estelle’s departure and now, helped himself to cake and snacks a dozen times or so. Now, he sat with his belt unbuckled, and his tunic stretched taut over a bulging stomach. He looked quite sick – although whether that was an effect of the overindulgence or Migli, Jack couldn’t be quite certain.

  Estelle hurried in, shutting the door after her, and stared at Miss Mint. “Oh, Pepper! Are you alright?”

  Pepper started, glanced around, as if suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be the one waiting on the others, and then gave out a little murmur of alarm. “Oh, Miss Estelle, I’m so sorry. I got to talking about – well, everything – and completely lost track of time.”

  Estelle looked her over sharply. “My poor Pepper, you’ve been crying.”

  The words seemed to work a kind of magic, because all at once, moisture sprang into the other woman’s eyes, and her lip began to tremble. Still, she made a brave showing of it. “No, I’m quite alright.”

  Estelle hurried
over and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so sorry, my dear. It was thoughtless of me to ask you to stay. Not after that news. He might have been my father, but I know he means so much to all of us.”

  “It’s quite alright, really. But tell me, how is your mother?”

  A pained expression crossing her face, Estelle shook her head. “Not well. We called for Dr. Frost, and he prescribed a tonic. She’s asleep now. But…well, they’ve been together for over two thousand years.”

  Pepper nodded, her eyes glistening. “I know. I was telling Migli.”

  The dwarf murmured sympathetically. “I’m so terribly sorry, Miss Estelle. If there’s anything we can do – anything at all – for you or your poor mother, you have only to name it.”

  Estelle nodded. “I’m glad you said that, Migli. Because, in truth, we do have something.”

  Migli blanched a little. “Oh. Well, uh, of course. As I say, you need only name it, my fair lady.”

  Pepper’s eyebrow crept upward at this, and so did Estelle’s, at precisely the same moment. “Well, uh…” She turned to Jack now. “As you know, tonight was the night my father would deliver gifts to all the residents of the Vale. The deserving ones, anyway. The undeserving would get coal.”

  Jack grimaced. He knew, alright. He’d followed this wretched circuit once already – if a little bit reversed.

  “We – Mother and I, I mean. We feel that we must make sure the deliveries go out, especially now that…well, especially now. It was his life’s work, you know. The gifts must go out.”

  Jack nodded. “Right. And I guess you need someone to do it, now that there’s a…well, a vacancy?”

  “When Father left the other day, he took Dasher and Donder with him. You said you freed them, when you found the sleigh?”

  He nodded again, wondering if he should have left that detail out. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize they were yours. I just didn’t want them freezing to death.”

  She nodded too. “No, you were quite right. Still, if we’re to finish Father’s work, we must find them, and you must hitch them up to the sleigh.”

  “I must?” he said, a touch skeptically.

  “Yes. I need to stay here and break the news. My people need me. Don’t worry: we will have the gifts ready for when you bring back the sleigh.”

  “There were gifts in it when he crashed.”

  “Those were the cakes. They were to be delivered early. But the toys and other gifts go out tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  “Will you do that for me, Jack?”

  He knew, of course, he had no choice. So he said, “Sure. But…if the gifts have to go out tonight, how am I going to get the sleigh back in time? It took over a day to get here from the Vale.”

  “You’ll take Dancer.”

  “Who?”

  “One of Father’s other reindeer. Don’t worry, he’s saddle friendly.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jack clung for dear life to Dancer’s neck. Wind whipped through his hair, and icy pellets of snow beat against his face as they made their way over the Vale. Estelle had told him to stop in the village and ask the townsfolk if they’d seen the reindeer anywhere in the surrounding countryside.

  But Jack already knew where to find Dasher and Donder. He’d already done the bit about asking the locals back when he was playing on Team Krampus. They’d be just west of town, on or near the island.

  Which is where he directed Dancer, when he dared open his eyes. It was one thing to be in a sleigh, flying through the air. It was another altogether to have nothing but a saddle beneath himself, and between a very long, terrible fall to a certain death.

  And as far as he was concerned, the less time he spent in the air, the better. So he skipped the town altogether and headed straight for the wilds and the river.

  Dancer set down light as a feather in the snow, and Jack leaped from his back. Then, he took a moment to find his nerve. Only then did he look around. He’d landed just south of the island, but he could see up and down the river for quite a ways. He could see both sides of the bank, and the island. He could see the winter berries old lady Carol picked, and an endless supply of snow.

  What he didn’t see, though, were a pair of reindeer. He saw no reindeer at all, except the one on whose back he’d made the terrible journey here.

  He frowned into the wind, calling, “Dasher? Donder? You here? Estelle sent me.”

  Nothing but wind answered him. Maybe they’ve gone upriver, or down. He wondered for half a second if he should get on Dancer’s back again and do a flyover of the surrounding area. But, no. He’d much rather walk.

  So he did, trudging through the snow in a southward direction. He called for the reindeer as he went.

  “Dasher? Donder?”

  On and on he went, with Dancer following behind him. But he didn’t see the missing reindeer. He didn’t even find their prints.

  So he backtracked, following the river toward the town. “Donder? Dasher? You there, you stupid deer?”

  They weren’t. Or if they were, they didn’t answer his siren call. Jack reached the outskirts of the Vale on foot, cold, sore, and completely frustrated in his efforts. He wasn’t sure if he’d turned back too soon the first time, or if he’d overlooked something along the way.

  But, he was right outside town. So, grumbling to himself about how he was a damned fool for ever listening to Jordan, he stomped into Pleasant Vale.

  He met a man and a boy just inside the town. The boy walked with an old crutch, and the man carried a great plum cake. He was saying, “There we go, Tim: this will make your mother’s Christmas.”

  “It is her favorite, isn’t it?” little Tim asked.

  “It is,” the father answered.

  “We should have got two,” Tim said.

  The father smiled, and would have responded, had not Jack hallooed him. “I’m looking for a pair of reindeer,” he said.

  “Season’s Greetings, Friend. I’m Robert. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”

  Jack waved this away. He didn’t care who the other man was. He just wanted to find his quarry. “Jack. Nice to meet you. Anyway, I’m looking for reindeer.”

  A confused expression crossed Robert’s face, and he pointed behind Jack. “Uh, it’s right behind you.”

  Jack scowled at him. “Not that reindeer. Different reindeer.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m sorry. That’s the first one I’ve seen this year.” Then, he grinned, and leaned in conspiratorially toward his son. “Although, with any luck, we’ll see more soon. Isn’t that right, Tim?”

  The little boy flashed a broad grin. “That’s right. Father Winter’s coming to town.”

  Robert beamed happily, then glanced at the cake, and back to Jack. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mister Jack. But we need to get this home and out of sight before the missus gets back.”

  “It’s a surprise,” Tim explained, as if Jack cared.

  “Oh. Great. Well, have fun with that.”

  “Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to you, Friend!” Robert called over his shoulder.

  Jack brushed the greeting off dismissively. “Thanks for nothing, bub.” Then, he glanced around for someone else to question.

  With mixed feelings, he saw Klaus turning a corner, a few streets down the way. So he called out, “Klaus, hold up.”

  The other man started, threw a harried glance around, and then smiled broadly. “Ah, Sir Jack.”

  Jack sprinted forward, reaching him a moment later. “Klaus, I have a question for you.”

  “My, you are back soon. I hope your trip was pleasant. And how was jolly old Winter?”

  Three options flashed through Jack’s mind.

  Dead. Very, very dead.

  He’s been better, I’ll tell you that much.

  And,

  It’s complicated. Actually, right now I’m here on a mission from his daughter. You know, Estelle?

  He chose the latter. The first seemed too blunt
, and the second too flippant. If Klaus’s reaction was anything to go by, he chose correctly. The little man bobbed his head. “Oh, dear Estelle. Ah, to be a younger man.” He shook his head wistfully. Then, seeing Jack’s lack of response, shook it more emphatically and tutted. “You know, it’s like Cristobal always says: youth is squandered on the young.”

  “Yeah, that’s great. Anyway, she asked me to find some reindeer.”

  “Well, there’s one right behind you.”

  Jack bit down on the urge to snap that he knew that, thank you very much. Instead, he said, “Right. Different reindeer.”

  “Ah. Oh! You must mean the ones old lady Carol saw, out by the stream.”

  “By the stream, you say?”

  “That’s right. Just west of town, by the island.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re not there now.”

  “No, I’m quite sure that’s where she said. And they wouldn’t stray far. Reindeer love the berries that grow there.” He laughed, a big, happy laugh. “Not that I blame them, mind. I’ve quite a weakness for them myself – especially when Carol puts them in those pies of hers.” He shook his head yet again, sighing. “You know, I’m quite a baker in my own right, if I don’t say so myself. But that woman – she can bake circles around me.”

  “Well, that’s great. But about the reindeer…”

  “Right. Check the river, by the island. I’m certain you’ll find them there.”

  Jack wasn’t, of course, for the very good reason that he’d already scoured the banks in search of them. But Klaus had no further insight to offer. So he struck out in search of other witnesses. Some were no more use than Robert Cratchit – none at all. Most pointed out that he had a reindeer in tow, right behind him. But those who had information all pointed him in the same direction Klaus had.

  And when, on a whim, Jack checked his objective log, he saw a note:

  Locals have spotted the reindeer near the river on an island, just west of town. I should check it out.

  And a very annoying idea crept into Jack’s mind: had the game refused to spawn the missing reindeer until he followed Estelle’s directions, and actually spoke to the townsfolk? But the alternative seemed worse – because the alternative must be that this was yet another bug. The reindeer were supposed to be at the river but had gone missing.