Chapter 3: Part 3 - Playing Fair

Oska had been involved in some terrible ideas in his time; he’d even devised a few himself. Ruby’s, though, was one of the worst he’d ever heard.

“You want,” he said slowly, “to go poking around in ghost-infested ruins in the middle of nowhere, because…”

“Because there might be something worth looting.” Ruby was crouched at his side, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. Below them, the land dropped away into a hollow almost like a quarry, dotted with the jagged shapes of broken stone walls. “The ghosts are nothing to worry about. They won’t attack us if we don’t attack them.”

Oska honestly wasn’t sure how Ruby had persuaded him to follow her out here. They were now some distance from the camp, nothing to light their way but the moon and a scattering of stars. Distant lights burned in the distance ‒ another camp, perhaps ‒ but otherwise they might have been alone in the world.

Alone in the world, except for Ruby. Oska shuddered to even think of it.

“Since when have you been interested in treasure?” he asked.

Ruby’s gaze seemed to be fixed on the ruins. “Since Taria stopped paying me.”

“Because you don’t need paying out here.” Taria had provided all their food, camping supplies, even new weapons. There was, as far as Oska could see, absolutely nothing for them to spend money on.

He thought he knew the real problem, though. Ruby felt cast aside by Taria, thrown out into the wilderness for this ‘training’ none of them needed ‒ and worse, she was bored.

Ruefully, Oska thought back to the scrapes he’d got himself into when similarly bored. The fights. The thefts. The little wars on the streets of Divinity’s Reach. Ruby was a Valpari, through and through.

“You’ve never told us how you’re related to the family,” Oska said warily.

Ruby shot him a furious look. “You’ve never asked.”

Oska didn’t really think she was angry at him. It was obvious she was illegitimate and that she’d been raised in secret. Being a Valpari was probably a sore point.

“Well, come on then,” she said suddenly, getting to her feet. “Let’s see what we can dig up.”

Oska followed Ruby into the ruins because there seemed to be nothing else to do. He couldn’t leave her alone out here, surrounded by the dangers of the Wildlands. And what if she was wrong? What if the ghosts were vicious after all? She needed someone to watch her back.

It was quiet, down in the hollow. The ground was dry and dusty, their every footstep loud to Oska’s ears. Ruby didn’t seem to care whether they were spotted or not; she sauntered from one broken wall to the next, nudging aside fallen stones with the toe of her boot.

“There’s nothing here,” Oska said, as they rounded another corner. The ruins were unnaturally quiet, making his skin prickle with an anticipation he couldn’t explain. The whole place seemed to be… waiting.

“Of course there is.” Ruby didn’t even keep her voice down. She gestured to the heaps of stone around them. “This used to be Fort Koga. All sorts of trade used to pass through; the warring guilds wouldn’t leave it alone. There’s bound to be something worth having.”

“Three hundred years ago, maybe,” Oska muttered. All he could see were leaning walls and dusty shrubs. Ruby was deluded if she thought there was anything worth looting.

“Get down!” Ruby’s hiss almost made Oska jump out of his skin ‒ but he obeyed. He threw himself behind a moss-streaked wall, Ruby dropping down beside him. For a moment, they crouched in silence, nothing but the wind whistling past ‒ and then Oska saw a light.

It bobbed towards them out of the shadows, finally resolving into a figure carrying a staff. A ghost, Oska realised, moving fast. It didn’t seem to have any interest in them.

It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “How interesting,” Ruby said and started to get to her feet.

Oska caught her arm and pulled her back down. “What are we doing here, Ruby?” he said, ignoring her glare. “This is a waste of time.”

Ruby looked mutinous. “Who says?”

“I do. If you wanted treasure, you’d be better off raiding just about anywhere but here.”

“But these are human ruins,” Ruby said stubbornly, “full of human history. That’s what I want.”

Oska stared at her, perplexed. “What for?”

Ruby was silent for a long time. She watched the ghost disappear into the distance, then settled back on her heels. “Do you know where Taria found me?” she said finally. “Krennak’s Homestead.”

Oska had to stop himself from making a noise of bewilderment.

“It’s in Wayfarer Foothills,” Ruby said, seeing his expression. “Norn lands.”

“And you were there because…?”

“Because I lived there,” Ruby said, sounding like she wanted to punch someone. “It’s where my parents left me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ruby made a frustrated noise. “Philippe,” she said, folding her arms. “Your uncle. He’s my father.”

Philippe Valpari? He was the youngest and most wayward of Taria’s three sons. As family stories told it, he’d left home at sixteen to become an explorer and had rarely been seen since. In fact, it had been so long since he’d last shown his face that Oska had assumed he was dead.

“I don’t know who my mother was,” Ruby went on. “Taria doesn’t know, either. What I do know is that they took me with them on their journeys ‒ and then dumped me with a family of norn when I was barely a year old. I grew up in Wayfarer Foothills, passed from homestead to homestead, always knowing I didn’t belong. I hated it.”

Oska could only stare at her. That… was not the story he’d expected. An illegitimate noble’s daughter, raised on the streets of Divinity’s Reach, was a tale he might have believed ‒ but by norn?

It occurred to Oska that Ruby might be lying. He couldn’t see a reason for it, but she had duplicity in her blood; it was practically a family trait. Yet she’d watched that ghost with such intensity…

“So you’re studying human history,” he said flatly.

Ruby grimaced. “Not in books and libraries,” she said scornfully. “I just…”

She was drawn to it, that much was clear. There was such longing in her eyes that Oska almost believed her. Had Ruby really been raised by norn? Was she really fascinated by human history because she’d grown up surrounded by so little of it? And had Taria somehow got wind of her youngest son’s abandoned daughter and gone looking for Ruby herself?

Those were questions only Ruby could answer ‒ and perhaps the answers didn’t even matter. Taria trusted Ruby; Oska knew that should be enough for him.

A flicker of light caught his attention, on the ridge above. More ghosts? He couldn’t see a distinct figure, but something was moving towards them, more slowly than the runner…

Ruby gave a wordless hiss of warning as all the hairs rose on the back of Oska’s neck. That was no ghost. It was some kind of illusion, presumably sent by a mesmer ‒ and it looked a lot like Artair.

Oska leapt to his feet, weapons drawn. Secrecy was pointless; the illusion was coming straight for them. Ruby stood more slowly, twirling a dagger over her fingers. She surveyed the illusion with a frown.

The figure of the Archon came to within a dozen paces, so close that Oska could see it was smiling. It didn’t pretend to be Artair himself; it glowed too strangely for that. But its smug expression was enough to make Oska’s heart race and his fingers tighten on his weapons.

“There you are.” The illusion of Artair greeted them as though they were old friends. “I should have known I’d find you hiding in the wilderness.”

“What is this?” Ruby asked, her voice strained.

Artair kept smiling. “A friendly warning. I know where you are, you see ‒ Taria’s hiding place was never going to last.”

“We’re not hiding,” Oska said, but that only made Artair grin more widely.

“You might not be ‒ but whose orders are you following?” Artair waved the question away before either of them could answer. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m playing fair. I’m here to tell you that I know where you are, I know where Taria’s weapon is ‒ and I know who’s left in your camp, unprotected.”

Oska’s throat closed with the sudden shock of fear. Auri. She was far from defenceless, but if Artair had her in his sights…

“Shall we make a game of it?” his illusion asked, already starting to fade. “The first one back to camp wins the prize. Ready?”

Oska glanced at Ruby, whose gaze was locked on Artair. His illusion was growing fainter with every passing second, until only his face remained.

“Weren’t you listening?” he said, his voice also fading. “If you don’t want to lose, I suggest you run. The game starts now.”