Chapter 196: The Hippo, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

Chapter 196: The Hippo, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

Shortcut had me and Grotto halfway down the hall before the end of the first unexpected syllable. Gracorvus was up, Somncres was ready, and Grotto had both shields between himself and the intruder. By the time the sentence was done, I’d gotten a good look at whoever had missed the bus back to Hiward.

The rotund man who’d laughed when I’d revealed my status as a dimension-hopping reincarnator was looking into my bedroom, wearing a curious expression. As he studied the sigil that had been hidden behind my wardrobe, he was also looking down the hall at me with a dumb grin.

He wore a wide straw hat, loose pants, sandals, and an open vest, exposing smooth, bare skin beneath. His eyes were too large, his mouth too wide, and he had a distinct lack of a nose. He was the size of a very wide man, rather than an elephant, but there was no doubt who I was looking at.

“Fortune,” I said.

I relaxed my stance, not out of relief, but out of the knowledge that–no matter how much I’d grown since last running into the avatar–fighting wasn’t an option. The feeling was compounded by the presence of another uninvited guest, a woman who leaned against the wall across from Fortune. She stared at her nails while tapping each digit against her thumb, causing the polish to change color with every beat. She looked Hiwardian, but her unnaturally perfect features matched another avatar I knew.

Fortune’s head spun towards me, followed by the rest of his body, revealing another face that peered into the bedroom with a scowl. He threw his arms wide and smiled until his face was nearly split.

“Arlo!” he said. “Greetings and salutations, child. I trust you’ve been doing well?”

“I’d already know if you ever wrote,” said his right face.

“It’s okay,” said his left. “I never gave you my address.”

“I’ve been better,” I said. Grotto slowly floated behind me, his shields still raised. I didn’t know exactly how Grotto’s sight worked, but I knew his c’thonic eyes were decorative. He could still see down the hallway, even with two shields and an Arlo between him and the other side. “I’ve been dealing with a lot of impolite house guests.”

Fortune dropped his arms and shook his head.

“Bad manners,” he said. “It’s a sign of the times, I fear.”

“Is that your excuse for trespassing?”

“I go where I want,” said Right.

“It is!” said Fortune. “As much as I’d prefer to let you carry on your merry way with as little interference as possible, there are matters afoot that require a small amount of direct intervention.”

I pushed down a wave of irritation, grappling with my complex feelings toward the avatar. On the one hand, the ring he’d given me was way too strong for a Level 0 item with no stat requirements, and the Traveler’s Amulet was an unqualified cheat. Those, plus his divine intervention at the time of my first death meant that he was a major factor in my current status as a living being and my ongoing ability to maintain that alive-ness. Without him, I’d be dead; without his patronage, I’d be much weaker.

On the other hand, he was an infuriating know-it-all meddler who’d stabbed me in the back and let Anesis loose from her prison. I was worried that he was manipulating my actions through a backdoor soul connection, and his presence confirmed at least one of Leon’s concerns about me, which was intolerable.

I ignored that last bit. Starting to think of Lord Heronwyte as a person with reasonable opinions wouldn’t do me any good in the current situation.

“To what do I owe the unexpected visit?” I asked. “Does your ‘direct intervention’ involve kidnapping my party members?”

“Oh, goodness, no,” said Fortune. “Not in the sense that you’re implying. No, the kidnappability of your party is a point of minor concern–it’s practically a habit by now–but I prefer more subtlety.” He waved at the bedroom. “All of this is quite crude. It’s no mess of my making, I swear it upon the saints themselves.”

I furrowed my brow, wrestling with the theological implications of that statement. “Which saints?”

“Good question,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Most of them, I should think.”

“Not the saints of Hell,” said Right. “They’re too needy.”

“Uh, which hell?”

“There is only one true Hell, my boy,” said Fortune. “You’ll figure that out if you live long enough.”

“Does any of that mean anything to you?” I thought to Grotto.

[Nothing actionable.]

That sounded like fertile ground for a later discussion.

“If you aren’t the reason for all the traps and kidnapping, then why are you here? I don’t have time for games.”

“This brings us to the second reason I am here,” said Fortune. “Which is to delay you from taking that teleport.”

“Unless you physically stop me, I’m not going to wait for long.”

“Just a moment,” he said, pointing up and looking toward the ceiling. “Aaaaand, there it is.”

A wave of insight tore through me as the true name of The Dread Star of Heaven pierced my mind. I staggered back, overwhelmed by the weight of the word dropping onto my brain like a thousand-pound bowling ball.

The cooldown on Divine Favor of JuRoQi, The Dread Star of Heaven has ended.

I blinked away the sensation, recovering from the name burning its way into me. I checked the skill, seeing that exactly seven days had passed since I used it to ask Avarice’s first question.

“Shit,” I said, then looked at Avarice. “Are you here for your second question? This isn’t great timing.”

“No,” she said. “I am still digesting the last answer I received. It would be premature to ask another.”

“Okay, so what does ‘protecting your investment’ mean?”

“It means encouraging you to stay here,” she said. “You cannot pay your debts if you are dead.”

“Like I said, unless you stop me, I’m taking that teleport. If you have another way to get my party members back, I’m listening.”

“They may already be dead,” said Avarice.

“They aren’t. They still show on my interface with full health, and my aura still reaches them. I can’t get any other feedback from it, but I know they’re alive.”

“Oh?” said Fortune. “That’s curious.”

“If you stay here, I will ensure your safety,” said Avarice. “Better that one of you survives.”

“Do you know what the danger is?” I asked. “Or do you plan on leaving me in the dark?”

“I don’t know anything for certain, but you are not equipped to deal with whatever is happening here.”

“You don’tknow that, either,” I said.

“It is a foolish risk.”

“Yeah. That’s what we’re all about. I wouldn’t have met you, otherwise.” Avarice frowned. “Listen, you can mind fuck just about anything, right? If you want to make sure I live, then come with me. I’m not staying here unless you force me.”

Avarice reached up and rubbed at her temples.

“That is, perhaps, the most crass way anyone has ever requested my aid,” she said. “And I am not going to force you to do anything. I thought I’d made that clear when we last met.”

“Then you’ll come?”

“I am not immune to the dangers in this world,” she said. “You are one of the very few who has seen that first hand. I will not travel into the unknown, even if it means losing something precious. My business involves a degree of risk, but risk is not my business.”

“Okay,” I said. “This has been fun, you two, but you won’t convince me to abandon my allies. Feel free to show yourselves out.”

“Arlo,” said Avarice, closing the distance between us in two steps. She bent down and placed a hand on my shoulder, gazing into me. “Witness.”

Any pretense that Avarice was human disappeared, and her soul reached out to skewer my own.

She showed me her true self.