Play of Shadows

2.4: Finders Keepers

A daisy-chain of little people ringed the edge of a black pool. Water lapped at the far walls, the sound traveling back in soft hisses. The door marked EXIT glowed on the other side like a ghostly lighthouse.

The pool extended the whole length of the room. It could not be bypassed; the players had spent precious minutes figuring that out, before lining up to stare into the abyss. Ann shifted restlessly above them.

"Should we just go?" a player blurted.

The question echoed. Players glanced at each other, then pointedly, at Michael and Frances and Mr. Glasses. The two groups still kept apart – Ann thought of social constructs and herd mentality – but they were united in their efforts to cross to safety, so any squabbles were set aside, at least for the present.

There was a way across. A thin metal walkway speared over the water, barely wide enough for a single man. It was mounted a palm's height from the pool's surface.

"The viewing terrace allows visitors to experience the exhibit more personally," K explained.

Calling that sorry little metal plank a terrace was so cheeky Ann nearly laughed. K didn't even twitch.

"It is also used by staff to feed the specimen," K added.

"Hah," Ann said. There it was.

The burst of spooky giggles garnered only a few startled glances. The players were much more interested in the pool and the fact that whatever lurked there apparently took its food from the very place they needed to cross in order to reach the exit.

"I will wait for you at the door," K told them.

He walked onto the plank, ignoring the questions players threw after him. His footsteps were loud against the metal. Unhurried. Under the water, shadows coiled, moving with him.

The players didn't have Ann's God-eye perspective They watched K disappear in the dark, then reappear by the door on the other side, his silhouette outlined red by the light of the EXIT sign.

"Well, it can be done," Michael allowed.

"He's an NPC," Frances pointed out. "Who knows what'll happen if one of us tries to cross."

"Let's look for the plaque, let's see what's in there," Michael decided.

They didn't find a plaque. What they did discover was an old poster plastered onto the floor, the ink thin with water. The player who had made the discovery called the rest over, wary of tearing the waterlogged paper.

"Swim with – hm," Mr. Glasses paused, eyes narrowed over the rest.

"Can anyone read Greek?" Frances asked, looking over the shuffling crowd.

Heads shook. Frances scowled down at the poster.

"Exhibit open all day. One swimmer per session," Michael read. "There's more on the bottom, but it's hard to make out."

"Something about feeding," a player aided.

"Avoid? That's the word here, right? And, um, hides?" another tried.

"It hides when it eats?" a nervous-looking man suggested.

"That, or it's telling us to avoid feeding it," a woman grumbled. "Like we'd want any part of that."

"Five minutes remain."

K's voice rose and fell sharply, a single plucked string. It shot the players into frantic motion.

"Can we even all make it across in that time?" a girl fretted.

"We'll have to try. There's no time to find another way," Michael said grimly.