Nora to her feet and started walking around the outer perimeter again.
The other players were bombarding the GM with questions, so Leah took a minute to check her phone. She found the frantic text messages from Isabella and texted her the conference room number and location. About the time the other players had all their questions answered, the rest of the band entered the room.
Isabella had cast her spirit sight spell, and she could tell the GM wasn't entirely human, but it gave her no insight on what he actually was.
“The rest of the party is going to need a re-trial, thanks to you and your friends,” he said, his eyes almost glittering under the shaggy bangs.
“What's in it for you?” Nora demanded. “Dragging real people into the game like that?”
“It's how I play the game, that's all.”
“It's cruel!” Maryann said. “Whatever magic you use this for, it gives people bad luck. Someone could get really hurt!”
“These things happen,” he said mildly. “But all players in my game have heard the rumors. Many quit within a few years. It's hard to keep a long-term campaign running. But even if the players knew the truth of what I was, and the consequences for playing in my game, do you think so many would choose not to play?” he asked, directing his inquiry at Leah.
“You do run a good game,” she admitted. “But maybe you should give people that choice.”
“I do, within limits. I am the GM, after all. I give the players choices, but only I know all the consequences.”
“People aren't a game!” Nora snapped.
He shrugged. “That depends on your point of view. I know what yours is, and I know what mine is. But you did play well, so I will pass your flyers on to my gamers.”
“I'm not sure how I feel about that,” Leah said.
“Well, you came here for publicity, and you have a chance for it. I realize it must pain you to know that I am something other than normal, and that you can do little to stop my games, but such is life. In the gamer parlance, you need a few more experience levels before you could hope to confront me.”
“I don't want to owe this guy any favors,” Maryann said.
“It's no favor. It's the deal. She played the game, everyone got through alive, although there was interference by you and you,” he said, looking at Maryann and Isabella.
“Or maybe that was the point of the game to begin with?” Isabella asked. “To find out what we would do?”
He smiled slightly. “Perhaps. Do you want me to pass out the flyers or not?”
“No,” Leah said. “If we'd just played a game, I'd be fine with it. But you risked my friend and four other people. And it sounds like if any of them join your game, they'll be in for a world of hurt. We won't have any part of that.”
He inclined his head at them slightly. “As you will. If you will excuse me, I have errands to attend to,” he said, and walked out the door.
“Wait a minute!” Maryann said, and ran out behind him, but he was already gone.
“Yep, not super-creepy in any way,” Leah said dryly.
“So he just gets away?” Nora snapped.
“I don't even know what he is, much less what to do about him,” Isabella said. “From what I heard, at least his games aren't fatal.”
“Not yet,” she retorted.
“Look, we know where he is. He's been here for at least thirty-five years. We'll do some research and figure out what we're dealing with and what we can do,” she said.
“We can't get the bad guy every time,” Leah said.
Nora shook her head. “Well, fine. Let's pass out these flyers anyway. It's been a hell of a day, and I want to see that club packed.”
“Sure, we'll do that,” Isabella said.
Disappointed, but undeterred, they went back to the main floor to drum up business. Whether by their efforts, or some influence from the mysterious GM, they did indeed have a full club at their gig the next night.
The Lyrics:
I knew the day I saw you
Magic was in the air
You were beautiful, graceful
The sunlight sparkled in your hair
One look and you caught my eye
One smile and I was under your spell
The way you laugh; the way you talk
It wasn't long before I fell
Refrain: My love is like a centaur express
A fantasy approaching at the speed of light
You know it must be magic
For something to feel so right
Be my beautiful princess
And I will be your errant knight
Give me any quest, name any foe
I will not shirk from the fight
Our love will be stronger than mithril
And burn hotter than dragon flame
It will be the stuff of legends
And put all other epics to shame
Refrain
Maybe you're afraid it won't work out
Go on, take a chance, roll the dice
With so many positive modifiers
You don't need to think twice
We'll travel the path of destiny
Heroic to paragon to epic and beyond
Bards will sing the songs of our love
Come with me; a new era will dawn
Refrain
Track 13: Triskaidekaphobia
The Interview:
Brad: So now we're at your last track. Sorry this interview has run so long, ladies.
Lee: We've got time if you've got time.
Brad: I find it ironic you have thirteen tracks and named your thirteenth track “Triskaidekaphobia.”
Lenore: Is that actually ironic?
Brad: Well, maybe not, but it is an odd choice to cut thirteen tracks and then name your last track a word that means “fear of the number thirteen.” Your song even uses that line.
Belle: We were almost going to call the whole album “Triskaidekaphobia.”
Brad: And you decided to go with “Necromancy for the Greater Good” instead?
Anna: In the end, we liked that title better.
Brad: I have no response to that. So this is a minor-keyed alt rock song with a pop beat. It seems pretty light until the last verse. At first it sounds like you're making fun of superstition but then it sounds like you're confirming it.
Lenore: We're a bunch of contradictions.
Belle: Superstitions really don't make sense. Why is the number thirteen unlucky and seven is lucky? If you're on a craps table, and didn't roll a seven to start with, you don't want a seven to come up. So shouldn't seven then be unlucky?
Anna: In other cultures, eight is a lucky number.
Lenore: I'm sure you could find examples of pretty much any number being lucky or unlucky.
Belle: So it doesn't make sense. What's wrong with having a black cat? I've known plenty of people who have owned black cats and they don't seem to be any more unlucky than anyone else.
Lee: But animal shelters have, at least in my experience, more black cats than any other color because they're supposed to be unlucky. And I guess they are because they get stuck at animal shelters, but that's because of the silly superstition.
Lenore: Spilling salt makes a mess, and maybe back in medieval times it was a huge loss because of the price of salt, but is it really unlucky? I don't know.
Belle: And I think the act of breaking a mirror is probably unlucky because now you're out a mirror, but does it really bring seven years of bad luck? Most people don't even remember what happened last Wednesday. Are they really going to remember seven full years of all the bad things that happened to them and remember they broke a mirror?
Brad: Hey, I agree with you. But like I said, the last verses seem to confirm superstition.
Anna: Well, we don't claim to know everything. Maybe there is some reason thirteen is an unlucky number and you shouldn't walk under ladders.
Lenore: The ladder thing is just com
mon sense. Someone might be on it with some tools they could drop on your head.
Anna: Well, see, then that superstition might have some basis in truth. Don't walk where people can't see you and could drop things on your head. Or you could accidentally cause them to fall.
Brad: So what do you think - fact or fiction?
Anna: Mostly fiction. But then again...
Lenore: “There are more things on Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.”
Belle: But that said, people should think about these things and not just accept them as true.
Lee: And they should go adopt those poor black cats.
The Flashback:
The band called Nevermore and the Ravens emerged from their gig in a decently sized and mostly reputable bar in New York City to find it was pouring rain. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed.
“It appears to be a dark and stormy night,” Leah said.
“Brilliant observation, Sherlock,” Nora replied.
“There's no help for it. Let's just get packed and get to our hotel. I'm exhausted and we need to roll out no later than tomorrow afternoon,” Isabella sighed.
The band was soaking wet by the time they finished packing their van. Despite the late hour, the streets were still fairly crowded and the poor weather slowed down traffic. It took nearly an hour to get to their cheap hotel.
Thunder rumbled through the skies. “I don't care if the amps get stolen,” Leah said. “I am not hauling them out of the van tonight.”
“For once, we agree,” Nora said.
Yawning and irritable, the entered the lobby of the fourteen-story building to find a surly and inattentive night clerk. It took three tries to get checked in properly. Finally they piled onto the elevator.
“Look, the building's so old there's no thirteenth floor,” Maryann said. “Well, I mean obviously there is, but there's no button.”
“People are