Chapter 26
Rosabel La Rouge
Present day
Within the first three minutes, I realized just how vast Night City actually was. Possibly twice the size of Madeline’s estate back home, if not more.
The farther I went, the taller and darker the buildings became. The narrow street I’d taken from that square where we initially landed went on and on for about five minutes, then it forked into three streets, each curving a few feet in, with two-story buildings in the middle as if to hide where they led. Nobody ahead of me, but there was someone behind me—the handsome Whitefire player who looked just as miserable as I was feeling as he dragged his feet. We made eye contact and I could have sworn his pain was the same as mine. I could have sworn he needed a hug right now just as much as I did—if we weren’t in the fucking Roe.
But we were, and so neither of us said even hi to one another .
We just continued to walk on our own.
Damn it, I should have asked Erfes for directions to that inn she told me about. Or was it even real? The elf was crazy enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d lied through her teeth just to get my weapons.
As it was, when I stopped in front of the three streets, the best I could do was close my eyes, take in a deep breath, and let my instincts decide for me.
They chose the street in the middle.
Lights and people, elves and orcs all around me. Players, too, plenty of them, all perfectly disoriented. All looking upward at the buildings that kept going higher and higher.
Then there was fire.
People screamed. Instinct took over and I raised my hands to protect myself when the roar filled my ears, and then another person screamed especially hard—and long —as he fell from the edge of a four-story building.
He was on fire.
Iris help me, his entire body was burning as he screamed and fell for about two seconds, then slammed against the asphalt some fifteen feet away from me.
Another roar over our heads, and I looked up just in time to see huge wings on a dragon as it flew away and disappeared behind the buildings.
I was in shock, and maybe that’s why I went closer without really understanding what the hell I was doing, but nobody was screaming anymore at least. Not even the man on fire—because he was dead.
Seeing death in all its forms wasn’t anything new to me—I was an IDD agent. Or at least I had been one, and I’d seen my share of awful things, but this was different. This was a game. This was not a rescue mission, and there were no bad guys to chase and capture here. No, this man had been incinerated by a fucking dragon flying in the sky, and now he was dead.
“ Get out of my way!” someone shouted as he shoved people away to get through because we’d all gathered to see. I didn’t think anyone could even help it—it was instinct, and when I saw the corpse still burning, perfectly still on the blackened asphalt, I felt like I might throw up. Despite all the corpses I’d witnessed on my missions, at the morgue, at the office, this hit me differently.
The Whitefire who’d been behind me was right next to me now. When our eyes locked, I almost leaned into him for some support—to hell with it all.
Then the guy who’d been calling for us to get out of his way kneeled in front of the still burning man, while we remained a couple feet away. He wore black leathers and had dark hair, and when he raised his hand toward the body, Blackfire magic engulfed the flames until they went out.
The body could have been a doll painted black, but the smell wouldn’t let you be fooled. I thought for sure the man had done this because he hadn’t wanted to see another player get burned, but then he started whispering a spell, fast, and more of his magic unleashed from the palms of his hands and stretched over the dead body.
Idiot, I thought, enraged. He wasn’t trying to help at all—he was trying to bring the guy back.
“Pretty sure that’s not natural causes,” said someone from the crowd.
Someone else laughed. “Yeah, dude. He got incinerated by a dragon and fell to his death,” said a woman. “Fuck it, I’m outta here.”
“Guess this means we should stay away from rooftops, rookies,” said another man, while the Blackfire was still chanting his necromantic spell. It wasn’t going to work, and I was pretty sure he knew it, but he was trying anyway.
He was trying and turning the dead man’s body to ashes right there on the asphalt as his magic fought to bring back his soul but couldn’t.
Seconds later, he stood up, cursing out loud, dusting his hands off as if he were pissed that the body of the player was ruined, and he was still without his key.
I was sick to my stomach.
It took a lot to stop myself from going after him, or from pulling out my gun and emptying a magazine or two into his back—or even reaching for a throwing knife under my jacket. This was anything but a game, no matter how Iridians advertised it, and the whole world knew what happened in this playground, yet nobody did anything to stop it. On the contrary—they made twice the billions they spent to prepare for this lunacy.
Unlike the other players, I was forced into this mess, but I knew the one rule in the Roe all the same: kill or be killed. There was no other way about it. If someone was foolish enough to climb on the rooftops to search for the easiest way out, that was on him.
The sooner I accepted that, the sooner I could finish this challenge and leave Night City behind.
“Are you okay?”
The voice was hushed, barely a whisper, and I turned to the Whitefire guy, surprised he was still there beside me.
And he was talking to me.
No, I’m not okay—are you ? I wanted to say, but what the hell would be the point?
“I’m fine,” I lied because we were enemies no matter what. In here, every single player was an enemy to the other .
So, I walked away without waiting for a reply, ignoring the ashes of the player on the sidewalk.
The city was alive, and the deeper I went, the more lively it became, with a lot more people, louder music, and brighter lights. Elves and orcs were drinking and laughing and dancing. I stuck to the sidewalks, to the shadows, and watched the other players approach them, ask them for food, for drinks, for beds—yet they all said no . I passed by grocery stores and bakeries and restaurants, a flower shop and a lady that sold perfumes on a stand in the middle of the street. There were no cars here, or any kind of vehicle that I saw. Everybody walked to wherever they were going, and a couple of hours in, the players no longer even tried to ask for food or drinks.
A few, though, tried to pick a fight with some orcs near a bar, who’d been drinking beers and dancing in a circle, bothering no one. They could hardly stand on their feet and keep their balance, yet they kept on moving, spinning around one another, laughing. The music reminded me of a Greek movie I saw once.
The group of three players, who’d teamed up because they probably saw no other option, tried to enter the bar in front of which the orcs danced, tried to grab the beer bottles from their hands, tried to fight them.
In an instant, more people, sober ones, approached and surrounded the group of three.
“Night City is our city. We are its residents—you don’t belong here,” they sang in unison. “Move, stranger, or we will move you.”
They said it over and over again like fucking robots, and there was no way those players could do anything against twenty of them, not to mention others who were standing by, just waiting for a move .
The players were smart enough to back away. Nobody tried to force the residents into giving them food or drinks again that I saw.
But I still tried to get someone to tell me where the hell I was going.
“Excuse me, can I ask you something?” I asked an orc as she swept the asphalt with an old broom in front of her shop— Diris’s Dris , the dris being pouches full of unicorn horn dust, meant to bring good fortune to the wearer. As far as we’d learned in school, unicorns never really existed. They were just a figment of people’s imagination, and the dris dust was just an old wives’ tale to trick humans into spending their money to keep their homes protected from bad magics.
The woman looked at me—or maybe glanced at me for a second would be a better description—then continued to sweep away like I wasn’t standing just two feet in front of her.
“Please, I just need to ask you about an inn,” I tried again, and she turned her back to me swiftly—a clear indicator that she didn’t want to be bothered.
I tried again with an elf who was smoking a cigarette at the corner of a closed shop. The windows were painted black, and you couldn’t see anything through them. He was alone, leaning against the wooden corner of the five-story building, one hand under his armpit, the other in front of his face, the cigarette burning dangerously close to his fingers.
“Sir, can I please ask you something?”
The man who’d been murmuring under his breath and staring at the ground in front of his feet turned his grey-colored eyes to me.
“No—you can’t come in. No—you can’t take my food. No—you can’t find out where we keep our dead bodies even if you kill me. And if you do, it’s game over for ya— satisfied?!”
I jumped back, a scream building in my throat, and before I knew it, I had my daggers in my hands. He looked down at them, arched a brow, then dragged more smoke from his cigarette that should have been burning his fingers by now.
“An inn,” I said through gritted teeth. “I just need to find an inn.”
It was like I hadn’t spoken at all. The elf just kept murmuring under his breath, staring at the ground.
He didn’t look at me again.
So I continued ahead and I asked whoever I could— excuse me, where can I find an inn? —and everybody ignored me just like they did everyone else.
The streets came together again at a roundabout, all three of them that I’d seen in the beginning.
I wondered if I should have chosen the left. Or maybe the right? I wondered if the people were friendlier in those other streets. I wondered what more lay in the neighborhood beyond the roundabout. It looked pretty much the same as where I’d come from to me.
Darkness, lights, buildings.
Fuck, I was getting more desperate by the second.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried not to think about the fact that I might have to start searching for a cemetery around here soon. Groups of other players were everywhere by the roundabout that saw no traffic whatsoever. Some were coming and some going, some standing there and looking around, completely lost—just like me.
Dragons flew over our heads, soundless, barely shadows against the dark of the sky, and birds, too. Ravens, crows, pigeons—they flew, and the dragons didn’t spit their fire at them. They were free to go anywhere they wanted, unlike me.
My feet were glued to the asphalt. The people ahead were whispering, and some of the words I even understood.
“ They say they keep the bodies of their deceased in their basements.”
“I heard they freeze them and keep them in their kitchens!”
“That’s not right—I heard they chop them and eat their flesh and save their bones as decorations!”
The memory of the skull with ruby eyes in Erfes’s bar came in front of my mind’s eye, and I almost threw up all those crackers she’d so kindly given me.
I turned around, to head back where I came from, sure that every other road was going to lead exactly where this one had— to nowhere— and when I spotted two Greenfire players coming my way, I slipped between two buildings like a coward, in an alley so dark I couldn’t see my own hand in front of my face.
Even so, I moved farther back, hoping to find a spot where I could safely close my eyes for only a moment.
A moment—that’s all I wanted. If I could just sleep for a little while, I could figure it all out—and quickly. I could figure anything out with a clear head.
So, I sat on the ground and I pressed my back against the cold wall, and I ignored the cold tears streaming down my face as memories of Taland and the vulcera and even Erfes came before me, mocked me, laughed in my ear.
Necromancy. I couldn’t fucking do necromancy, and these voices in my head were getting so, so loud that I couldn’t ignore them any longer.
You’re good for nothing; you have no magic; you climb this building to the very top right this second; you save yourself the embarrassment of being seen dying; you better not get up from this place again!
Worthless; useless; he never really loved you; nobody ever-ever-ever-ever loved y ? —
A light turned on right over my head.
My eyes opened and the noise in my head came to a halt. My thoughts froze, and the pain that usually developed in my chest from all those emotions subsided for a moment.
I looked up to see where the light was coming from, to see that I was sitting against a door, not the wall. Which was funny because I had touched the concrete when I lowered to the ground, and I was a hundred percent sure that it hadn’t been a door then.
It hadn’t been a fucking door, and now it was. A brown, wooden door with a single yellow lightbulb hanging on a thick, curved wire, and a sign was appearing on a small golden plaque to its side as I watched:
The Inn That Doesn’t Let Anyone In
I blinked my eyes a thousand times before I was able to convince myself that I was really seeing this. That this door had really simply just appeared behind me, and that light, and that sign…
My hand rose, fisted, my knuckles slamming on the wood twice. I moved like I was in a dream. This whole thing—the thoughts in my head, the other players who’d kill me if they knew what I was, Taland and the vulcera and?—
“Read the sign! ”
A thick, male voice came from the other side of the door, making my heart jump. For a moment, my tongue was tied, my thoughts tangled.
Holy shit, I found the inn the only time I wasn’t actually looking for it.
“Hi—hello!” I said, momentarily letting the excitement that came over me take control, but I gathered myself quickly. I cleared my throat and tried again, “Good evening. My name is Rora. Erfes sent me to find you.”
Silence.
I waited a heartbeat, then put my hands on the wood and leaned closer, pressed my ear against it and held my breath.
The door opened the next second, and my heart almost jumped right out of me. It opened just a slit, and all I saw was darkness and a blue eye.
A bloodshot, big, round blue eye.
The man growled like an animal. “You dare mention her name here?!”
Oh, fuck.
“She, uh…” With shaking hands, I reached for my pocket and grabbed the coins that elf had given me. “She told me to give you this for food and shelter.”
The eye moved like it wasn’t attached to a body at all—and it was freakishly big . Once he saw the small coins on the palm of my hand, everything changed.
Locks turned and chains rattled, and before I knew it, the door swung open all the way and there was light behind the giant. A lot of golden light.
The man was indeed over seven feet tall, his shoulders possibly three times the size of mine—and he was smiling.
“Are you…are you Vuvu?” I said, the words dry on my tongue .
“I most certainly have been,” he said. He could be a troll though his ears were so big and so far from me that I couldn’t really tell their exact shape. “Please, come in! You look shaken and very, very dirty. I have a bath with your own name written on it— Rora, wasn’t it?” He batted his long lashes, and for a second there I could do nothing but stare. His voice was so soft, high-pitched now and cheerful. Just like Erfes, he’d changed within the second, just like that.
And I didn’t like it one bit.
“Yes,” I said, squeezing my fists tightly until my nails sank into my skin, leaving half-moons imprinted on my palms—a reminder that I had to push through. I had to do this, there was no other choice.
“I’ve got a free room on the third floor and some leftovers from dinner I’m sure you’ll enjoy. Pork and pizza and a little bit of cake, too.” He winked, then laughed a little— giggled, as if he didn’t know the size of his body. “Come, come. This way. I’ll show you.”
He stepped aside to let me through. Even though every instinct in my body insisted that I should run away, I took in a deep breath and forced myself to move inside instead.
Before Vuvu closed the door, though, I could have sworn the engraving on that plaque had changed to The Inn That Sometimes Lets Someone In.
Definitely one of the stranger things I’d ever seen, even in this game.
The corridor was narrow and Vuvu barely fit, both his shoulders touching the walls to the sides. The doors were big, almost all the way up to the high ceiling, probably to fit his size. Vuvu took me through the first one—a rectangular room, possibly the size of my bedroom at Madeline’s mansion, with a big, black fire burning in the old fireplace, recliners and chairs spread everywhere, and a small reception desk across from them, with two doors on either side.
There were two men and a woman sitting to the right of the fireplace and they were all wearing hats, but I could tell that the man with light hair and a petite frame was an elf, while the other two weren’t. The woman wore a brown Victorian era type dress with a lot of lace and a corset and a big ribbon over the small of her back, and her friend was telling her, “Intent does not justify action, Inez.”
The woman grunted. “Nonsense—if I don’t mean to offend you, you should not take offense.” She grabbed the small glass filled with black liquid from the table and took a sip.
The man raised his brows. “Why, by that logic, if you kill a man and you say you didn’t mean it, he should not feel that he has been killed then!”
The elf sitting across from him laughed, while the woman sneered. “You know what I mean!” she complained.
Then Vuvu put his hand on my shoulder, and I jumped. “Don’t mind Mr. Hadis. He likes the sound of his voice too much. Fancies himself a philosopher.”
But Mr. Hadis and his friend laughed while the woman pretended to be irritated, and neither even turned to look my way.
“Sit—right over there,” Vuvu said, pointing at the lone recliner with a round table in front on the left side of the fireplace. “I’ll be back with whatever I can find in the kitchen—don’t go nowhere, okay, fresh thing?”
Fresh thing? Was he serious?
I forced my lips to stretch into a smile. “I won’t.”
He disappeared through one of the doors behind the half-ruined reception desk, and I went to sit to the side of the fireplace, just like he said.
Warmth.
Even though the flames in the fireplace were black, they radiated warmth, and I had no clue when I’d gotten so cold, but it felt mighty fine, that heat. It melted this ice I seemed to have all through my bones.
I sank into the recliner, which was surprisingly very comfortable, and at first, I meant to distract myself with Mr. Hadis and his friends and whatever they were saying, but the more I looked at those black flames dancing on the log, the more my thoughts ran away from me—to the outside, to Night City, to the other players. Especially the guy who’d fallen off the top of that building, burning.
And if I tried just a little harder, I could say that I almost— almost had a plan.
For the first part of the challenge, that is.
“There you go!”
I jumped again, so lost in my head I hadn’t heard Vuvu approaching, but he put a tray on the small table in front of me with three different plates in it—one with a single slice of pepperoni pizza that looked at least two days old, one with some sort of stew I would rather not even smell, and the last was meat and rice and mashed potatoes that didn’t look appealing to the eye at all.
They were plenty appealing to my growling stomach, though.
“Thank you, this looks—” I’d reached my hand for the pizza slice without really realizing it when Vuvu slapped it away.
“Payment first, fresh thing. Payment first, as is custom in Night City. Always payment first.” And he showed me the palm of his huge hand.
“Of course,” I said, reaching for the coins in my pocket again, and I only grabbed one .
Only one at a time, Erfes said, and though I didn’t trust the elf at all, she’d gotten me in here by the fire, and I had food in front of me.
I put a single coin in the middle of Vuvu’s palm.
He flinched. “You had three, if I recall correctly.”
I tried not to let my fear, my uncertainty show in my face. “Yes. I will give you one at a time.”
Suddenly, his eyes turned bloodshot again, and I could have sworn a shadow fell over his face, but it didn’t last.
He blinked and breathed in deeply and composed himself, then forced another smile.
“Very well, then. One today, and the next tomorrow.”
If I’m lucky, I won’t be here tomorrow, I thought, but of course I didn’t say that. “Thank you.”
“I’ll show you to your room when you’re done.” Definitely not all that excited anymore, but at least he wasn’t kicking me out.
“What time is it, by the way?” I asked when he turned to walk away, and for a second, it was like the world stood perfectly still. Even the three sitting on the other side of the fireplace turned and looked at me, eyes wide and mouths slightly open, as if they were shocked by my words.
“What does it matter what time it is?” Vuvu then asked, like I’d just asked the most absurd question he’d heard in his life.
I blinked. “But how will you know when tomorrow comes?”
“I’ll know,” the giant said, shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll know. Everyone knows tomorrows.”
With that, he turned around and disappeared behind the other door, and the guests went back to their own conversation and pretending I wasn’t there at all.
The food had been…not disgusting per se, but close. Very, very close.
However, I ate—pizza and some funny looking meat, some potatoes and some undercooked rice, but I was full. My vision was steady, my limbs full of energy, and there was a bed in the room Vuvu brought me to—an actual bed.
“You may use the bathroom down the hall. I’ll see you downstairs tomorrow— with my payment,” he said, then stepped aside and pulled the door closed.
He was most definitely not happy that I hadn’t given him all the coins at once, but he’d get over it. Because I was finally all alone in a closed space, and I was as safe as one could be inside the Iris Roe.
The room was small, with a bed with white sheets, a table to its side with a lamp on it—the only source of light in there—an empty wardrobe on the wall across from the bed, and right next to it was a square window. I went to it first, hoping to see the street outside, and I did. Not sure if it was the same street I’d been to—they all looked the same—but it was very likely. Mostly black buildings, asphalt, shops, drunks dancing in the streets, and players, too.
I pulled up the window and I was surprised when it actually opened. Cold air filled my lungs, making me realize just how warm it was inside. Shivers washed down my back when I leaned out to get a better view and found a balcony with metal railings attached to the black exterior of the building I was in, close enough that I could jump on it.
Good to know that I could get out of this room without Vuvu knowing about it if I needed to—or if I needed to escape. With the way my life looked right now, it was very possible .
For now, I closed the window and went to search for that bathroom down the hall, desperate to clean myself, my clothes, empty my bladder, and sleep.
Tomorrow—whenever tomorrow came—I would find my way out of Night City, or I would die trying.