Play of Shadows

2.15: Unraveling

The ability of the villain to propel the plot couldn't be underestimated.

Ann quickly found that her presence was a cheat in active gameplay. The very first empty painting she touched after her little tête-a-tête with Michael couldn't wait to spill a confused player into her arms. As Ann staggered back, bowl-sized eyes blinked at her from within the branches of a large tree. The canvas spurted greenery and bark and was soon crowded by a dense forest.

"Thanks," Ann muttered.

The owl-headed creature hiding inside hooted once, preening happily.

The player was unharmed. Ann let him go with an awkward pat on the back and asked,

"What did you see in there?"

The player blinked hazy eyes at her. "Ah? It was nice. Quiet. Where are we?"

Ann frowned at the man. The player's gaze slipped away, distracted. He seemed to forget his own question and didn't protest when Ann directed him to remain where he was to wait for the rest of the group.

"Maybe he would be better off in the painting," Svetlan said when Ann shared the short conversation with the man. Six other players had made it through. The rest were caught in whatever subgames the paintings held and were yet to come out.

Ann swallowed an instinctive denial. She considered the words seriously instead, trying to fit the strange notion with what she had observed of the instance. "K called them breadcrumbs," she muttered.

Svetlan's eyebrows disappeared in his hairline. A smug smile slowly stretched his lips.

"K, is it?" he drawled.

Ann blushed quite against her will. She then realized that to everyone else's eyes, it was Frances standing there like a big lump, red to his ears. She cleared her throat and sidestepped the topic altogether.

"Assuming that the analogy is to Hansel and Gretel, the conclusion is that the players trapped in various stages of the game mark our path. But to what end? We can't retrace our steps. The game works to urge us forward, never back."

Svetlan hummed. His expectant, assessing gaze reminded Ann of her father when he used to quiz her over homework.

"What?" she bristled.

"You are overlooking a key detail," Svetlan said. Ann pursed her lips, and the man had the good sense to drop the teasing and continue. "Not all of us are bound to active gameplay, Frances."

Realization hit like a bolt from the blue. Ann remembered the key she had so conveniently dropped in the rose garden. She was suddenly glad that Frances had taken the initiative to deliver himself in Michael's place. Otherwise, she couldn't rest easy, knowing that she had literally left the key to the whole instance in Michael's backstabbing hands.

"His luck is really something," she said.

"As is yours," Svetlan told her.

Ann allowed the point. She glanced at Michael, who was hurrying their way with a deceptively mild expression and suspicious eyes. "You know something about the instance. Why not share it?" she asked quickly.

Svetlan laughed. "If it were only that easy. Unfortunately, I have annoyed dear K too many times to count. I am afraid that if I try to meddle, the game will go directly into hell-mode to balance my intrusion. The brat is as petty as I am when it comes to holding grudges."

Michael joined them before Ann could press for an explanation. Ann clammed up immediately, suddenly aware of every breath and twitch of her body. She didn't dare look at Michael. It was one thing to know that the man couldn't see her as she was and another to believe it, especially since Ann was herself to her own eyes. It took all of her courage not to turn tail and dart into the nearest painting.