Chapter 2: Part 8 - Guilty Tears

It was fair to say that Marissa was in the best mood Jean had seen her in since the game began. It wasn’t just that the warmer weather of Timberline Falls was agreeing with all of them, or that she was still flattered by Yelazar’s offer of an alliance. The moment their invitation card had begun to issue Yinn’s message, Marissa had started to laugh; she’d barely stopped since.

Jean felt as though the message was ingrained on his memory. There was a generic introduction about a ‘change of circumstances’, which had been enough to make them all listen more closely. Then there was a second piece, fuzzier than the first, in which Yinn had sounded irritated. Even Jean, who hadn’t agreed with Marissa’s decision to question Floxx, found himself amused by that. He wasn’t exactly averse to rubbing Yinn the wrong way.

Then there was the final part, the one they all knew was for their family alone.

“Are you lot listening? I’ve done my best to be polite, but there’s only so far I will be pushed. Attempt to evade the strictures of the game again and you will find yourselves back in Divinity’s Reach within the hour – minus your registration fee. In fact, the contract you signed gives me licence to impose considerable fines on game participants who break the rules. Don’t be the ones to test that.”

At that, Marissa only laughed louder. Jean rolled his eyes. Yinn didn’t understand Marissa in the slightest if he thought financial penalties would faze her. She’d grown up in wealth – all four of them had. Marissa cared less about losing money, even substantial sums, than she did about breaking a nail.

Only one part of the message gave them all pause.

“It sounds like Yinn is speeding things up,” Oska said, as they packed up their riverside camp. “We might not have long until other teams start arriving in the area.”

“And we don’t have a single clue to follow,” Jean pointed out. “Floxx didn’t tell us what we were looking for here. If all that stuff about the ‘white rabbit’ was nonsense…”

“It was,” Marissa said confidently. “Yinn just wanted us all chasing our own tails. You’re right, though. We need to move quickly, and we don’t yet have any leads. I have no doubt the game will take on a different tone now we’re in a new area. The challenges will be harder – and I suspect that means they’ll be more obvious.”

Jean’s heart beat a little faster. “You mean we’ll be able to see where Yinn wants us to head?”

“That would be my assumption.”

“Then we need to split up. Scout the area and report back.”

Marissa turned to him with a speculative look. For a moment, Jean could barely concentrate for the thump of his heartbeat in his ears. Had she seen through his ruse? Did she know he had his own reasons for wanting some time alone?

If Marissa had her suspicions, though, she didn’t show it. “A risky strategy, Jean, but that may be our only option. The quicker we can find our next lead, the better. We’ll report back here in one hour. Good hunting, everyone.”

Jean turned east immediately, hoping his decisiveness would curtail any further discussion. It did. Oska and Marissa both turned south, Auri west, and when Jean set out, he was alone.

He moved quickly, Yinn’s message playing over and over in his head. It wasn’t the message itself that interested him, but the noise in the background. The second and third parts of the recording must not have been prepared in advance; several things had been audible behind Yinn’s voice. Running water, for one, though that didn’t narrow things down much. Bird calls and what might have been distant voices. And, most interestingly of all, a roar that could only be a waterfall.

There were falls, of varying sizes, all across Timberline Falls – that much could be expected, given the name. There was one in particular that Jean knew intimately, though: Whispering Falls, the one and only place outside Divinity’s Reach he and Vasha had ever visited together.

In hindsight, that made him wince. In her more wistful moments, Vasha had spoken of wanting to see the lakes and mountains of the Shiverpeaks; most likely, she’d only wanted to escape the city, but Jean hadn’t seen that at the time. In a moment of extravagance, he’d devised an expedition to none other than Timberline Falls. They’d set out from Lion’s Arch with a frankly ludicrous train of dolyaks and mountain guides. It had taken two days to reach the region their guide insisted was the most scenic, and therefore most romantic, in the area, which had turned out to have the inauspicious name of Guilty Tears. It had been breathtaking, admittedly, with its sweeping vistas, its rocky hillsides, and a truly extraordinary carving in the hillside to the east. It had also been infested with grawl and, as Jean hadn’t paid enough attention to the season, freezing cold.

He remembered Whispering Falls, though. He remembered the strange susurrus the water made, different to any waterfall he’d experienced before. Most of all, he remembered trying to hear Vasha’s voice over the sound of it, as she’d grown more and more withdrawn. The whole expedition had been a failure, a desperate attempt to prove himself with wealth to a woman who’d never asked for anything more than his time and attention. At least it could come in useful now.

The land rose as Jean headed east, turning into snow-coated peaks of cold grey stone and stunted grass. He trudged down into a similarly inhospitable valley, paused to get his bearings, then turned south. He had, at least, paid attention to the route their ill-fated expedition had taken. Along the valley floor, over another rise, and–

There. Guilty Tears. A much greener valley lay before him, with the river winding through the bottom and that bizarre stone head on the other side, watching over it all. Jean could see no sign of Yinn’s game, nor could he see any grawl. Could Yinn have moved them on, somehow? Was such a thing even possible?

“Well, you’re no grawl.”

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Jean resisted the urge to draw a weapon and instead spun on his heel with as much grace as he could muster. An asura stood a short distance away, her arms folded. Jean wouldn’t have said he was an expert on asura facial expressions, but this one was definitely annoyed.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Jean said.

The asura made a disgruntled noise and gestured towards the valley. Jean felt his gaze drawn back that way, to the empty slopes and desolate riverbank. It was years since he’d last been here, but he definitely remembered grawl in great numbers. Now, the silence was almost eerie.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen any of them,” the asura said, but she wasn’t looking at Jean and she didn’t seem to expect an answer. “What strange circumstances we find ourselves in. We’ve long suspected something was afoot here, but this…”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Jean asked, unable to help himself.

The asura looked back at him, startled. “The Priory,” she said firmly. “I’m Explorer Primm, from the Durmand Priory.”

Primm studied him intently as she spoke, as though waiting for him to contradict her, though Jean couldn’t see any reason to. Instead, he held out a hand.

“Jean Valpari. Pleasure to meet you.”

Primm ignored his hand, though perhaps that wasn’t a typical asura greeting. Instead, she shrugged. “Well, I suppose that’s my survey complete. What are you doing out here, anyway? Timberline Falls is swarming with newcomers, but you’re the first I’ve seen come this far.”

Yes, newcomers. Jean might be ahead of the pack, but other teams would soon spread out and reach his destination. It was time for him to move.

Even as he thought as much, movement on the other side of the valley caught his eye. A lone figure was climbing the steep slope towards that eerie carving, a figure he’d know at a far greater distance than this.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Jean said again, too flustered to make conversation. He was dimly aware of Primm shouting something at him, but he ignored her. That was definitely Vasha on the other side of the valley and, for the first time since the game began, she was alone. If he moved quickly, he’d finally be able to catch up to her.

And then what? The question bounced around inside his mind as he scrambled down the side of the valley and waded into the cold river at the bottom. What indeed. He didn’t have an answer and he wasn’t even sure he wanted one. When he saw Vasha again, he would act on instinct alone, with no more pretence or desire to impress. It was what he should have done all along.

He hauled himself out of the water on the east shore of the river, scrambling up the slope in Vasha’s wake. She’d vanished up the rough trail, not even footsteps to mark her passage, but Jean was certain he knew which way she’d gone. Right into the shadow of the carving.

Jean paused just once, the colossal stone face looming over him. It had a name, though he couldn’t recall it. Probably something ominous, given how it seemed to fill the sky above him, gaunt and leering. What was Vasha doing here?

He was halfway up the slope when two things came to him. He was well within earshot of Whispering Falls, now; Vasha had clearly recognised their sound in Yinn’s recording, just as he had. She must have recognised something else, too – something that had escaped Jean’s notice, no doubt. She always did have an eye and an ear for detail.

Secondly, though, Jean realised what Primm had shouted after him. She’d been telling him to look up, to the mountain pass he’d come through himself. Belatedly, Jean looked back, to find a handful of figures scurrying down the far side of the valley. They were several minutes behind him, but they’d catch up soon enough.

Jean sucked in a breath and hauled himself up the last section of trail. The path made a sharp turn to the right, vanishing into darkness. Jean couldn’t afford hesitation, though. Other teams were right behind him – and, more importantly, Vasha was ahead.

He charged through the doorway, skidding to a halt on the slick stone. The room inside the carved face was small and dark, lit only by the light spilling through the head’s eye sockets. Vasha was there, though, a silhouette reaching for something fixed to the wall above her.

She spun at the sound of his entrance. Jean’s vision was already adjusting to the gloom, and he saw Vasha’s eyes go wide. “What–?” she began, just as Jean said her name.

He didn’t get chance to decide what he was going to say next. Before either of them had managed more than a single word, there was a dull slamming sound, and the room was plunged into darkness.